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Trapping the Billionaire: An Age Gap Romance
Trapping the Billionaire: An Age Gap Romance
Trapping the Billionaire: An Age Gap Romance
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Trapping the Billionaire: An Age Gap Romance

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Mama says in a barely audible voice, "They suggested that if I were unable to come up with cash, I could perhaps sell some of my organs on the black market."

 

My stomach twists. "Oh my God, are you serious? We can't let that happen."

 

"Which is why you should marry the billionaire," she says.

 

I let out a breath. "Mom, it's not like I can convince the man to marry me tomorrow. I literally met him today."

 

She rubs her chin. "Maybe you don't have to marry him."

 

"Uh, what do you have in mind?" I ask, not liking the gleam in her brown eyes.

 

"What if you get pregnant with his baby?" 

 

WORD COUNT: 6,600

 

A sexy short story about a young woman and a handsome billionaire!

LanguageEnglish
PublisherIsla Chiu
Release dateMar 2, 2023
ISBN9798215311189
Trapping the Billionaire: An Age Gap Romance
Author

Isla Chiu

When I manage to tear myself away from taking Buzzfeed quizzes and watching unhealthy amounts of TV, I write romance and smut. My works feature alpha males, sexy times, and/or my sarcastic sense of humor. I hail from Cleveland, aka the best freaking city in the world, and believe LeBron James is the perfect human being. Despite all of my efforts, I have never truly been able to quit caffeine. My favorites include Taylor Swift, Florence + the Machine, and SHINee. I love to hate/hate to love k-dramas. If I say I’m on a diet, I’m just lying to you and myself. One of these days, I'm going to get hypertension from an excess of salt, both literal and figurative. If I'm awkward around you, I probably don't know what to say to you and/or I think you're hot. And despite what anyone says, Forrest Gump so deserved that Oscar over Pulp Fiction.

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    Book preview

    Trapping the Billionaire - Isla Chiu

    Trapping the Billionaire

    YOU SHOULD DANCE WITH him, Mom says.

    A frown appears on my face when I look in the direction of Mom’s pointed finger. Mom, that guy is, like, 80. A few decades ago, the old man’s suit likely fit him perfectly, but now, he is practically swimming in the fabric and has a black cane to match his outfit. He stumbles, but luckily, one of his handlers catches him before he hits the floor.

    Mr. Lee is only 75, Mom says with a straight face.

    I roll my eyes. Oh, he’s merely 53 years older than me? That means he’s an entirely age-appropriate match for me then.

    My mother’s eyes turn into slits. "I don’t appreciate your sarcasm, Violet. Mr. Lee might be significantly older, yes, but he’s also more than significantly wealthy."

    My stomach twists.

    Growing up, I lived in luxury with my parents. We had a mansion that resembled a fairytale castle, we ate fresh abalone and bird’s nest soup on a regular basis, and I went to Dartmouth College with the intention to major in English.

    In other words, I was a spoiled little rich girl.

    Then two years ago, my father went on a trip to the Cayman Islands and never came back. With my father’s disappearance came the appearance of creditors who all claimed my dad owed them money. A lot of money. It turned out my father had a gambling addiction, and on top of that, he had made some poor investments. And instead of staying in the United States to face the consequences of his actions, he’d taken whatever liquid assets he could get his hands on and fled overseas, leaving Mom and me to deal with the financial fallout.

    We had to trade the castle for a tiny one-bedroom apartment (Mom sleeps in the bedroom while I sleep on a futon in the living room), abalone and bird’s nest soup for instant ramen and bologna sandwiches, and English classes at Dartmouth for practical medical coding classes at community college.

    It

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