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The Reluctant Bride of The Billionaire

The Reluctant Bride of The Billionaire

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Sophia is determined to prevent her critically ill mother's death. Her mother was violently shunned for marrying a poor man, leaving her with no alternative except to beg for assistance from her wealthy, ruthless grandfather. Grandpa gave his consent to assist. She must, under one terrible requirement, wed Andreas Aristoteles, a wealthy and influential Greek. Andreas is breathtaking in every way - gorgeous as sin and has a devastating effect on women. Sophia detests him, however. Like her grandfather, he is brutal and cruel. You must abide by his laws, which are absolute. His stern command Brides must dress in white. She protested out of disdain, dressing entirely in black as if she were going to her own funeral as she walked down the aisle. Another redhead beauty that will give many headaches to our sexy billionaire hero. Let's have fun together, as we witness Andreas and Sophia’s journey in finding true love.

Chapter 1


The intimidating gate guard, who was large and intimidatingly dressed in a dark uniform and a peaked cap, continued, "Go home, miss; Mr. Nikolas won't see you," to me. He gazed down at me, but there was no sign of pity.

Regardless of the weather, I had been waiting outside the Nikolas mansion's massive iron gate for many hours almost every day for the last five days. I had hunger, thirst, and chilly shivers, but I overcame them all. I had such a strong will to fight that I was able to overcome my exhaustion.

I must see my grandfather, please. I again pleaded with him, "This is a matter of life or death," sounding like a broken record.

He exhaled angrily and replied, "The master said he doesn't know you."

How is it possible? Even though I had previously told him too many times, I maintained, "My mother is his only child, and I'm his granddaughter.

He went up and tried to frighten me, saying, "Which he doesn't acknowledge, go home now. He gave us the go-ahead to remove you. If you won't go, we have no choice but to use force.

In a rage, I pursed my lips.

Pauline fell in love with Dad, who also happened to be her driver and bodyguard, and my grandfather, Demetrius Nikolas, an aristocrat and wealthy man, cruelly disowned her. When she eloped with Dad, he severed all ties with her.

Sadly, Dad passed away before he could wed Mom. On the morning of their wedding, he was killed instantly in an automobile accident.

Mom was left with a child. She was only nineteen and had no idea where to go. She was accustomed to living in comfort, being treated like a princess, and being guarded like a priceless diamond. She was forced to make contact with Grandpa and ask for his pardon. But she fell short. He wouldn't acknowledge her as his daughter again.

She has been sending him cards on his birthday for the past 23 years to let him know that he is constantly on her mind. He never did forgive her, though.

Mom never intended for me to despise him, despite everything. Up to the time I was eighteen, I grew up believing that our family would eventually come together once more.

He visited our school on invitation to address the incoming high school graduates with a motivational speech. He was my grandfather, which I proudly revealed to my classmates. I was overjoyed.

Wow, you are his heiress?

Some were quite impressed and thought I was right. Others, though, raised an eyebrow in the belief that I was insane.

"I don't think you have a connection to him. You've been wearing those since... three years ago? Janet, the meanest girl in high school, glanced down at my feet and said, "You can't even buy a new pair of shoes."

She and her two friends made fun of me in front of some students who overheard us.

My cheeks were incredibly flushed, but I reminded myself that I was a strong girl and lifted my chin, saying, "Believe what you want. Nikolas, I assume we share the same last name. That suffices as proof.

Janet remarked loudly, "My dear, I have the same surname as the King of England," and everyone laughed.

To show everyone that I was telling the truth, was my goal.

When Grandpa had finished speaking, I went over to him and introduced myself as his granddaughter with a big smile.

I clearly recall how his smile vanished and how he gave me a weird look. I didn't know until much later that the expression on his face was one of hatred and rage.

"Kid, I have no idea what you're talking about. His chin lifted haughtily as he vehemently denied me in front of everyone, and it stung so much. "I don't have a granddaughter," he said.

Later, I understood that he did it on purpose to make me feel bad. to make up for my mother's crimes by punishing me. He humiliated me in front of everyone, and that undoubtedly affected me.

My attempts to reconcile failed. I vowed never to approach him again.

But I have now reneged on my promise. Despite the fact that it makes me sick, I am pleading for his mercy. If only I had a person I could talk to...

I took a big breath. We had no choice, which was quite frustrating. He was our final option.

I was standing outside the iron gate when it began to rain.

The guard yelled at me, "Go home!" but I shook my head.

"Please allow me entry. I must speak with my grandfather.

He said, "That won't be possible, miss," and a car drew up to the gate from the inside.

When I noticed the elderly man with white hair seated in the passenger seat of the moving car, my heart began to soar.

"Grandpa!" When the gate opened, I shouted, "Grandpa!" and sprinted towards the automobile.

He wouldn't listen to me. His aristocratic face was deliberately turned away from me and toward the front.

"Please, Grandpa! Mom is seriously ill and needs your assistance urgently. "Please help mom... she'll die if you don't," I begged, placing my quivering palms on the car's glass window.

I was crying and pleading for his mercy while drenched in the heavy rain. However, it appeared like he never heard me. I was jogging beside the car as it passed through the gates.

"Grandpa, we need your help. Please, I ask you. Grandpa, I'll do everything for you. Whatever you desire, I swear! Just give Mom a chance to live; she's dying.

I was left standing there, gazing at the car, until it vanished as it sped faster and faster.

Both the rain and my tears fell in torrents. I bowed down to the ground and felt completely powerless.

I eventually made it home. I expressed my gratitude to our neighbor for caring for Mom while I was away.

Mom was deteriorating daily. She was already bare bones. Her Stage A liver cancer required immediate, intense palliative care.

Looking at her made my heart feel so sad. She had put in a lot of effort for the two of us to live for years. She endured all manual labor because she was unqualified for any office position. Growing up, I witnessed her perpetual exhaustion and poor or unhealthy eating habits. She got sick because of her poor eating habits.

I started working as an all-around assistant for a fashion design and manufacturing company after I finished high school. I was able to use my income to assist Mom in covering the housing rent and our daily costs. Our way of life improved, and it became simple for us both.

Sadly, the business filed for bankruptcy. Me and my best friend decided to launch our own internet shopping company rather than looking for a new job. A few months ago, we had barely begun it when we learned that Mom's health had deteriorated.

The question, "Did you see him?"

I brought myself back to the present and focused on Mom.

Indeed, I did.

"What did he say?" she said as soon as her eyes widened.

I informed him that you were ill, but he ignored me. I sighed deeply and said, "I'll think of other ways, Mom."

She shook her head weakly and said, "No, I think he heard you. Sophia, come back tomorrow.

She was accurate. When I arrived at Nikolas's home, the gatekeeper and the other guards were extremely welcoming. To make me feel welcome, they would cover the floor with a red carpet if they could.

"Mr. Nikolas needs to meet with you. You'll be taken inside the mansion by a chauffeured automobile.

At the Nikolas estate, an aging butler let me in. He grinned warmly as he brought me into the spacious, lavish living room. Everything screamed wealth, sophistication, and elegance. From the clean black tiled floor to the chandeliers hanging in each room corner, the pricey decorations around the space, and the gold ceiling moldings...

My lips curled up in disgust. That did not impress me.

When I thought of Mom being enslaved in this world of riches and privilege, I shuddered. She had a stern father who controlled every aspect of her life, robbing her of her independence.

I sat down in the middle of the large Victorian couch and was startled to see two maids enter the room, each wheeling a tray that had a variety of drinks and colorful pastries.

One maid smiled and asked, "What do you like to eat, madam?"

No thanks. I said, seeing the dismay on the maids' faces, "I'm not thirsty or hungry.

I was once again left alone when the two maids left. Once more, I found myself glancing around the room and examining the furnishings and decorations.

Numerous porcelain vases, sculptures, and paintings that appeared unique and priceless were displayed on the shelves and on the walls. We may have enough food for a lifetime or enough money for Mom's medical care in one vase or picture. The idea made me angrier.


I heard my name, and my heart stopped. I took a deep breath and remained seated as I watched the tall, elderly man with white hair come toward me.


Chapter 2

When I was younger, I daydreamed about meeting my grandpa far too frequently. I pictured him swinging me in his arms and giving me a big bear embrace. Then he would take care of my mother and me, alleviating the hardship of our substandard lives. But each of them was an illusion, the product of a child's fantasy.

In distaste, I wrinkled my nose.

Grandpa drew my attention. I couldn't help but make a comparison between his well-built and fit appearance and my mother's declining health despite his advanced age.

Even though life can occasionally seem unjust, that doesn't mean you should give up.

Grandpa sat down in the cushioned chair across from me. He still carried himself with such aristocratic pride. He treated me like a piece of trash on this opulent-looking Victorian couch.

I was controlling my rage. I couldn't help but think back to the moment he made me feel bad in high school by shunning me in front of everyone. I'll n


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