• June 1, 2021

Billionaire’s Baby Hidden (Chapters 1-3) FREE READING 😉😇❤😘🙌


When her baby sister wants revenge…

“Monica? Please. Give me that damn document.” I’m in an at-my-limit stare at my stepsister, Monica Grewlad.

“Only if you do what I told you to, Sandy.”

“Do what, Monica? Go to some guy’s private room, kiss him, tell him to call the fucking bartender that it’s done, and then you give me that damn document, which is legally mine from dad, Monica?”

“Don’t do it! And you’ll never have it! Like everything is never yours but mine!”

If he refuses, I’ll walk away, and Monica is dead. That’s the plan. And I’m not drunk.

Yeah…. I shouldn’t have come here. That bitch knew. I knew. Should have known better. I’ll continue searching through other legal ways my mom’s grave…. I won’t play her game.

“I wasn’t…presented…with the right…sister. If it’s you…I’ll get married.”

This is madness….

Genres of the book: Billionaire Romance, Curvy Girl Romance, Mafia Romance, Dark Mafia Romance, Possessive Alpha Males, Strong Female Lead, Contemporary Romance, Romantic Comedy, Action, Comedy, Suspense, Mystery, Thriller, with a HEA.

*This book contains language and mature themes. Suitable for +18 audience because of that.

Billionaire’s Baby Hidden, by Andra-Cristiana Stan, Romania. Copyright © June 2021. All Rights Reserved

No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the author.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Chapter 1 – If You Don’t Do It, I’ll Burn It


“Monica? Please. Give me that damn document.” I’m in an at-my-limit stare at my stepsister, Monica Grewlad.

We share same dad. Different moms. I’m older than her and born out of wedlock. No, there was no cheating involved. Dad married her mom after mom died when I was two. And they had little princess here in front of me a year later.

Dad died two months ago, and the entire empire has been left to princess and her queen mom. I got nothing, though he built that empire of hundreds of millions of dollars on mom’s ideas, as he himself confessed to me.

I don’t care though. I have my own online business, delivering me millions of dollars every year. I’ve built it from scratch since I was a freshman in college, and steadily, I developed it into what it is today. I’ve inherited my mom’s fountain of wealth ideas. It pours through my blood. No need for something else.

“Only if you do what I told you to, Sandy.” She’s in a bitchy stare and a bullying smirk at me, dressed in a screamy red dress, barely covering her ass. That short the dress is. But the cleavage is deep, to have a profound view of her silicone melons. A necklace with a ruby reigns in the middle of the melons. She’s crossing those skinny legs with some high red heels at me.

I’m dressed in a pair of black satin-like pants embracing my curvy forms at waist length, a black top on my neck, tucked in my pants, and a black leather jacket at waist level. I wear a pair of black flat shoes and a pair of cut gloves. My hair is loose in a wavy manner. I’m an all-natural compared to my plastic stepsister. However, I’m the curvy one. Ha-ha! She’s got a flashy, professional makeup on her face. I have only a moisturizing foundation and all done. Oh, and my perfume.

I’m gulping my whisky glass in one shot and slam it on the table, crossing my legs the same as she did and lean my back on my chair.

We’re in a VVIP club and her plastic friends are here with her, all grinning at me. It’s around ten in the night. And we’re here for the last hour negotiating on that damn letter, from my dad, which contains where my own mother is buried. I was never informed where my mom was buried at. That’s the only thing I ever wanted to know and have from my dad, and not even that I don’t get from this FUCKING BITCH!

“Do what, Monica? Go to some guy’s private room, kiss him, tell him to call the fucking bartender that it’s done, and then you give me that damn document, which is legally mine from dad, Monica? Are you for real and in all mental faculties? This is why you called me here on reason you’ll finally give me that letter? To try and make fun of me? How many times do you need to understand you just can’t bully me, Monica? I’m not one of your friends here, hungry for your attention to introduce them in this fucking place with rich studs for a brighter future, and play your sick games for that.”

“Miss? The gentleman from there has sent you this drink.”

I don’t even look at the one giving me the drink or to where he’s pointing or whatever at. I wave him off, with my stare straight into Monica’s irritated stare that things don’t get played on her wants, and I’m receiving another drink from an unknown person.

“Take it back and bring me another whisky. Stop bringing me unwanted drinks from unsolicited people.”

“Yes, Miss. I’m sorry.” He goes away with the drink he has brought, and Monica is boiling her face at me.

“If you don’t do it, I’ll burn it. Don’t believe me? Don’t do what I told you to.” She hisses at me and I jump in rage on my feet with her standing up to confront me.


Though there’s loud music, people dancing, dim lights and everything in a club, there’s a thick silence feeling and all eyes on us. It’s just the feeling, things are still running as previously around us. I can’t help but want to strangle her.

I’m bobbing my head, all contracted with my heart racing in murders, with my chest breathing my rage against her, chewing from my left cheek.


“Don’t do it!” She throws her venomous mouth at me. “And you’ll never have it! Like everything is never yours but mine!”

I’m rebelling inside and I can feel her neck in my right hand.

FINE! FINE! I’LL HAVE YOU GET THE ‘IT’S DONE’ FROM THE FUCKING BARTENDER! I fucking hate her guts. Can’t believe we share same blood. But after this, we can cut all ties. Fine. Fine.

The guy from earlier comes with my whisky and I grab the glass from the tray and gulp it, slam it on the tray, and cut Monica with my inflamed stare.

“Fine. I’ll do it. Wait at the bar for the call.” I approach her and whisper at her right ear. “But if you don’t have that damn letter ready to hand it to me by the time I come back? Don’t do it, and you’ll never leave this place in one piece. Only silicones are long lasting. The rest is not….”

I don’t have anything against people with plastic surgery, don’t get confused. This is only about my sister and her fam of idiots around her.

She flashes a Grinch smirk at me and a vicious stare.

“Don’t think it’s easy, Sandy. Ha-ha! If you don’t succeed in having him do that, the letter goes burning, sis!”

I’m walking between dancing people, aiming the stairs. I’ve not stayed longer with her to respond and have a murder tonight. I’m at my final limit with this brat of a sister I have!

While going up the stairs, the rush of blood I have through my veins is pumping my heart. I’m going to some stranger to ask him to kiss him and make him call the bartender and confirm the done act over the kiss.

I know his name as she told me who to ask. It’s Max Rollington. I don’t know who the guy is, what he does, how he looks like, what age he is or anything on that line. Just a name and the certainty that there must be something odd about this if she has put me do it.

I don’t care though. I won’t kiss the guy. I’ll deal with this in other ways. Hopefully, I’ll have him make that call, fetch my letter, and go to my own life, away from the crazy side of it.

With dad dead, I’m no longer obliged to participate in family reunions, holidays, and all that. I can put everything behind and mind my own business in all parlors of life. At thirty years of life, I’m already consumed by bad things and energy sucking vampires like Monica and her mom.

She said last door at the end of the hallway. I won’t miss it, she said. Of course you can’t miss it. It’s with heavy security. Five hunks, in black suits, earpieces, and for sure with guns under those jackets, are guarding that door.

I chuckle and stop in my tracks at this other end of the hallway. I’m shoving my hands in my pants’ pockets.

Geez, Sandra. What the fuck are you doing? That guy is either Mafia, or a big shot in business world to have this with him. How do we do this?

I’m with a lion stance, assessing the guys at that door from distance and they seem to do the same. I’m smiling. Ha-ha!

Oh, Sandra…. You’re crazy. They’re smiling back. How lovely. That’s a good sign though. I might have a chance to get inside to main target, that Max whatever. I’ll so kill Monica after this. First time ever breaking in front of her. If it weren’t for mom, it would never happen.

“Hey, guys.” I’m with a not shy smile at them. More like a confronting one.

“Hello, Miss. What can we do for you?”

Oh God…. I hate that kind of look on me…. Oh yeah.

They’re in a turned-on stare at me. I’m in all clothes on me. No skin revealed. Still, I get more looks at me than my sister does who’s all on display. Well, that and the fact that I never go clubbing, so, I’m fresh meat how it is called in this world or something. I’m too fucking old for this shit though. I wouldn’t be here, in this club, if it weren’t for vicious, bitchy, forever with a grudge on me, Monica. She never misses a chance on me to revenge for I don’t know what. Between us, I should be the one with grudges and thirst of revenge. But I’m not. Anyways.

“Okay. I’ll be honest with you, guys. I need to have a word with one Max Rollington. I don’t know him, and he doesn’t know me. But I need to ask him something. My stepsister sent me here for that something and I can’t go back without it. My mom is at stake. So, I need this tiny favor from you guys, to allow me to see him, ask him, and if he doesn’t agree, then I walk away without further ado. It’s not a joke, it’s a real thing.”

If he refuses, I’ll walk away, and Monica is dead. That’s the plan. And I’m not drunk.

Chapter 2 – It’s A Black Friday Night


They all give me an in-depth check with their stares. The guy I’m talking to is staring into my eyes with a smug smile.

I think I’ll walk away before seeing if that Max guy will call, and I’ll have Monica dead. Yep.

“Boss? We have a Miss here who wants a word with you.” He has just called Max from his phone.

I feel like a pathetic being right now, though I don’t show it. I’ve never been in such a situation before. And for this specific moment, I need to thank my dear-oh-sister, Santa Monica. THAT FUCKING BITCH! Oh….

He smiles at me and checks me out again. I would murder him along with Monica.

“Yes, boss.”

I’ll murder your boss, too. It’s a Black Friday night. All killed with one price. Free fun.

No, it’s Saturday. Just saying. I’m still with my hands in my pockets. I need to have means of control and play along.

He opens the door for me to get inside.

I’m twisting my lips, nod my head, and I would fucking turn around and go downstairs, fuck that letter, and just cry at home for how long it takes I’ll never know where my mom is buried.

But my footsteps take me inside where there are four guys. All some studs, one more handsome than the other, like coming down from top magazines, all neat and dressed in last trends suits. They are all ogling at me with some surprised and interested stares, and I’m looking at them with my eyebrows up, laughing under my lips – kind of rude of me, I know – with my hands still in my pockets. Yes, I have pockets on my pants.

The door is being shut behind me.

“Is it too much to ask to speak in private to whoever Mr. Max Rollington is?”

They all look so young and like some idols at face. They seem in their mid-twenties something. No, my heart is not racing, nor my core is ignited at their image and stuff. I’m not the type. Monica is.

She sometimes doesn’t wear panties, just to be ready. If you know what I mean. I’m thirty and still a virgin because I don’t want any of this part of life. Never kissed before either. So, there’ll be no kiss in here if the guy agrees.

I’m willing to pay the guy one million fucking dollars to call that bartender and say it’s done for that bitch to hear and hand me that piece of paper in a stamped envelope, all sealed. If I pay, he agrees, and she doesn’t want to meet her end of the deal? She’s dead.

Three of them look at the remaining one who’s sipping whisky on the rocks from his glass, sitting like a king on his red leathered chair, taking in my sight with his dark green eyes. He’s with messy waves of dirty blond hair, but in such a way that it looks neat and polished. He’s the kind of guy that when women lay eyes on him, they get an instant orgasm just like that. That ravishing all of him is. I just need all this to end as soon as possible.

He motions his head at them to go and leans his head at his right at me with a growing smile, revealing some delicious dimples.

“Thank you. I promise it won’t take long.” I’m looking at Max guy while the others are going out without me seeing how they’re looking at me.

When the last one is out and shuts the door behind him….

“I’m listening. You may take a seat, Miss…?” He’s in a husky, strong and sexy male voice.

I’m sighing.

“Thank you, but no. Sandra Grewlad is my name. Alright, I’ll be fast about it. My stepsister, for some reason, asked me to come here and do something. I would never do or ask this, but there’s a thing I need from her, which she won’t give otherwise, though it’s lawfully mine. She gave me your name, your room, and condition of what to do if I want that thing to be handed to me. So, to cut it short, you just need to call the main bartender and say it’s done, for him to tell her that from you, and we’re all done. Instead of what she asked of me to do with you, I’ll just give you one million dollars for that damn phone call, and you’ll never see me again from next second. I’m sorry for all this nonsense, but I have no other way around. That thing is important to me and I need it in my hands, not burned as she wants. However, if all this is not in agreement with you, I’ll understand.”

I’m the same at him as before, relaxed, hands in pockets, wanting of finishing this fast, not impressed by the piece of God art before my eyes.

His eyes change into a crazy sparkle, like a storm is forming in there. A smirk blossoms on his lips. His left eyebrow goes up.

Now it’s probably the moment when I find out why she has chosen him with all this shit she wants.

“What’s your sister’s name?”

“Monica Grewlad. Heir of Grewlad Cosmetics.”

He chuckles and places his glass on the table, leaning his back on the chair, crossing his legs in a man’s pose, resuming his stare at me, scanning me in a slow motion from head to toes.

“Younger sister of hers, right?”

This guy had too much to drink. I’m the older one.

“No, the older one. Can we stop developing on things and you just make the call, give me your bank account, I send you the money right away, and everyone goes to their normal whatever?” I’m saying this twisting my head per my words, fishing out my phone from my jacket.

He tilts his eyebrows at me.

“I’m a billionaire, Miss Grewlad. I don’t need or get persuaded over money.”

Oh shit…. Alright. If he won’t agree, then I’ll give up. Yeah. He’s indeed not obliged to do anything for me. That fucking bitch.

“So, tell me what she told you to do with me and then call it done. I’m so damn curious over that.”

I’m chewing from my inner left cheek and he’s smirking at me, waiting to hear. My heart is on some killing notes thinking at Monica. We’re in a lock of stares. I’m not intimidated by it.

“Alright. But first, tell me why she would choose you for anything?”

He chuckles again.

“Brutal truth or the polite one?”

“Whatever you prefer. As long as it’s the truth, it works for me.”

“Because no bitch fucks with me or enters through that door, Miss Grewlad. She knew it would be a dead end for you to come here but do or ask me anything. Your sister wants to fuck me for a long time now and she’s frustrated she can’t. Your late father wanted a marriage between us, I refused. So, knowing I’m a harsh guy in general with things imposed on me, she has sent you here to a total rejection and a certain win on her part for whatever you two have to share.”

I’m with my brows tilted and in a slow bobbing of my head at what I’m hearing.

“I’ve answered your question, Miss Grewlad. Now, muse me with answering my question.” He’s so confident, with a look that penetrates your everything. Well, billionaires.

“Well, I’m not saying I don’t believe you, as I do, but you said no bitch enters through that door. I don’t identify myself with a bitch, but I did enter through that door, and it wasn’t that hard to get to you. It’s not like I had to knock out the guards outside and then do the same in here to reach to you.”

He’s laughing with a throw of head at his back. I’m serious in my everything.

“You’ve underlined very well, Miss Grewlad. You’re not a bitch. I did ask my man upon calling me. If you were one, he wouldn’t call me. For the letting you inside, that was totally out of question. Now, my answer. It’s itchy to know.” He’s in a smug smile, sincere, wandering his eyes over me, waiting for his answer.

Yeah…. I shouldn’t have come here. That bitch knew. I knew. Should have known better. I’ll continue searching through other legal ways my mom’s grave…. I won’t play her game.

Chapter 3 – This Is Madness…


I’m shoving my phone back in my jacket and take a deep breath.

“Right. It doesn’t matter anymore, Mr. Rollington. I changed my mind. I’ll find another way to deal with my problem. I’m sorry for disturbing you and thank you for your time and answers.” I’m turning around to walk to the door, which I do.

“That’s not fair, Miss Grewlad. For my time and answers, you can at least tell me that. Who knows? Maybe I agree to it. I can’t know before you tell me.”

I’m with my hand on the door’s handle and my back at him.

“To kiss you. You to call for it’s done. I don’t do that. Reason why I was willing to pay one million dollars for that one call to the bartender. A million dollars for an envelope which she should give to me without fuss, containing info with where my dead biological mother has her grave. I never knew my own mother as I was two when she died. I wanted at least to know and visit her grave. Have a good night, Mr. Rollington.”

I open the door and get out, slamming the door behind me. I don’t look at the security guys or the others on the hallway.

I’m with hurried steps, feeling suffocated, and the need to get the fuck out of this club is exponential.

My dad has never done something I wanted. One thing I wanted badly. My mom. Even that, he gave it to Monica’s possession. Is that fair? I mean, what the fuck all of them have against me?! I’ve never done something to them! I just stayed aside and let them do whatever they wanted! I’ve never asked questions or imposed on things I should have a right over! I preferred working on my own and detach myself from them since a teen! And even that wasn’t satisfying to them! To not be able to find your mom’s grave! Does that sound normal to you guys?! To make such a stunt from that?! And now Monica to bask in her sick revenge against me like that?! My dad was the only one who knew that info. 28 years after my mom’s death, and when I should have been finally told where she’s at, I get the blow.

It’s alright. I’m fucking used to this.

I’m down the stairs, increasing the pace of my steps. A headache hits my head and it’s a pulsating one. I’m getting hot and I’m clenching my jawline.

I’m trying to avoid the area where she is at and go to the exit through the crowd.

This is final. I’m cutting all ties with them. I don’t give a fuck anymore on what she has from my mom. Yeah, they have lots of things from my mom which I’ve never been allowed to see or touch. But all I wanted was that letter or document with her grave’s location. That was all.

I’m having a blood rush in me and I can smell blood in my nostrils. My heart is a punching cat against my ribcage. And without want, I see her at the bar.

“It’s not done! I can’t believe this! That whore!” She’s yelling at the bartender claiming attention around her. “Give me that bin! Now!”

I’m staring at her, stupefied. She’s like a little spitting fire monster over a fucking letter. I feel like crying for all this happening to me a millionth time, and I should be the one acting like that. She’s got everything and I’ve never complained. I took not even a penny from them. Everything I have comes from my own work, sweat, and everything else. She has never worked for anything. Her mom the same. And here we are.

No, I’m not crying, yet. I’m fighting myself to not give her satisfaction.

One of her friends gives her the envelope. The bartender gives her the bin, and she fetches a lighter from another friend of hers. She’s rabid, with her head trembling, and owning such a malefic stare.

She spots me with her sight.

“Here it is, sis!” She shakes the envelope in the air for me to see it, and now she lights a corner of it with the lighter. “I can’t believe what I asked of you it’s done! Hence! This gets burned down! Ha-ha!”

I’m squeezing my fists, my jawline is at twitching point, and silent tears are coming down my cheeks. I’m in a heavy breathing, unable to move yet. But I’m done. I won’t engage into a fight with her. I’ll just go and never look back again.

Yeah, she wouldn’t have kept her end of the deal…. She has never done it. But that guy called. Well, thanks for trying….

Before I finish my thought, staring at my lunatic sister who’s laughing like an evil witch and enjoying the burning envelope with her dumb friends, a big, burning hand grabs my left one and turns me around, cupping my face, stamping me on a hard torso, and taking reign over my mouth, gaining silence around us. Even the fucking music is stopping.


It’s Max, thrusting his tongue in my mouth and kissing me without stopping, with his muscular arm wrapped around me, tightening me on him, holding my head with his other hand. My hands are on his arms, squeezing his suit jacket, with my heart almost smashing my chest. This is my first kiss and it happened like this…. With a complete stranger, in a fucking trap my sister has set for me, to indulge in my pain.

“No! He’s mine! Let me go! That’s not happening! Sandy! He’s mine! Take your all off him! He didn’t kiss you! You fucking bitch! How could you do this to me?! My own sister! Let go!”

He should take his all off me! I’m not the one doing this! Not because I give a fuck on you, but I didn’t want this!

She’s screaming at my back with someone holding her to not come here while Max is not halting his intoxicating kissing on me, not hearing what she’s saying, not having enough of me. When I want to back off and stop the kiss because I don’t want it, he keeps me in the kiss with his hand, not allowing me to do it, pressing me against him.

An unknown fire is flooding my being and I’m losing my breath in a way, but I’m kissing him back, and I’m able to breathe this way.


What the fuck do you want from me? Can’t you see your darling is not stopping?! Didn’t you want this?! Huh?! Don’t like it now?! Well, FUCK YOU AND DEAL WITH IT! I HAVE ASKED FOR NONE OF THIS! HOPE IT’S AS PAINFUL FOR YOU TO WATCH AS IT WAS FOR ME TO SEE THAT LETTER BURNING!

He’s finally breaking the kiss in small ones, kissing my lips, lip by lip, suavely. I’m looking up at him with a murderous stare and he’s in a stare with dancing stars at me and with a smirk on him, kissing me like that and speaking. I’m breathing with difficulty.

“I wasn’t…presented…with the right…sister. If it’s you…I’ll get married.”

What?! Are you all fucking crazy?! I’m marrying no one! Take the bitch behind me!

“Let’s go, baby.”

Before I can catch my breath, and be able to word a thing against this, and halt the screaming in pains bitch behind me, he scoops me up in his arms, bridal style, and takes me out through the crowd with those guys guarding him following us.

This is madness….

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Love you!

Your true friend always,

Andra-Cristiana Stan


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3 months ago

I hate her sister.. See some pain in return you soulless being. I wonder if Max is in her sis game or not. I hope not.


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