icon 0
icon TOP UP
rightIcon
icon Reading History
rightIcon
icon Sign out
rightIcon
icon Get the APP
rightIcon
closeIcon

Claim Your Bonus at the APP

Open

Billionaires Books for Women

Bestsellers Ongoing Completed
The Agent in the Dark

The Agent in the Dark

My sister, Lily, was dying. Leukemia, rare and aggressive. Only an experimental bone marrow transplant could save her, costing seventy-five thousand dollars. Insurance called it "experimental," so they wouldn't cover it. I worked double shifts at the grimy diner, counting every dollar of my meager tips. It was never enough for Lily. Then Jess, my flashy old high school friend, showed up. She had an "unconventional" job, she said, with "huge pay." A vigil for a dying man, Adam Blackwood, a wealthy recluse in rural Louisiana. They needed a "pure-hearted young woman," a virgin, to perform "comforting rites" for his soul's passage. And a "discreet examination" afterwards, to confirm my "commitment." One hundred thousand dollars. More than enough for Lily. Despite a creeping unease, Lily’s pale face flashed in my mind. I took the thirty thousand upfront, let Jess drive me to the massive, gothic plantation. Mr. Blackwood was cold, Mrs. Blackwood tearfully obsessed with my "purity." They immediately took my phone, locking me alone in a dimly lit room with "Adam." He lay still, impossibly sedated, his breathing shallow, his pupils constricted pinpoints. He wasn't dying naturally. He was being drugged. The chilling truth slammed into me: this wasn't a ritual. The "pure-hearted" vigil? A calculated farce. "Adam" wasn't dying of illness; he was being systematically poisoned. And he wasn't Adam Blackwood at all. He was Ben Carter, an FBI agent, deep undercover in an antiquities smuggling ring. I was the perfect scapegoat, framed to take the fall for his impending "death." Jess, my friend, had sold me out, a willing accomplice in their deadly deception. Trapped, utterly betrayed, and staring down a dangerous criminal conspiracy, Lily's money no longer mattered. Now, it was about survival. I had to save Ben, expose the Blackwoods, and fight my way out of a nightmare.
The Sterling Unveiling: From Humiliation to Heir

The Sterling Unveiling: From Humiliation to Heir

I'm Ava Sterling, and my stepfather Richard had commandeered the Sterling ballroom for my stepsister Chloe' s lavish birthday. She was just a scholarship student, but he doted on her, while I watched her expertly play the sweet, overwhelmed girl. Mid-party, Richard tapped his champagne flute, and the mood shifted. My stepbrother Ethan put a proprietary arm around Chloe, and Richard announced she'd been viciously cyberbullied. Then, Ethan turned and glared, fixing his gaze directly on me. Richard, in a disappointed tone, demanded I apologize to Chloe publicly, "Now." The crowd murmured, their judgment palpable, instantly believing the underdog narrative. Later, as I tried to slip away, Ethan cornered me, still seething. He grabbed my phone, then my arm, his grip tightening. In the struggle, he shoved me with brutal force. I stumbled, then crashed, landing in the dessert table amidst shattered pastries, cake, and frosting, a sharp pain shooting through my wrist. Laughter erupted. Lying there, humiliated and sticky with cake, a cut on my arm bleeding, I watched Chloe feign horror and Ethan look down with cold satisfaction. How could my own family do this? How could they orchestrate such a public disgrace for a lie? The betrayal was absolute, the injustice a burning inferno. Desperate, I was escorted out, but I knew what I had to do. With unwavering resolve, I called my mother, Victoria Sterling, across oceans. Her voice, usually calm, turned to chilled steel, promising a "clean house" upon her return. My era of quiet endurance was over.
The Wife He Destroyed

The Wife He Destroyed

I remember the fall. The sharp, brutal shove from my husband, David. The sickening crack as my head hit the marble staircase. The last thing I saw was his face, twisted not with remorse, but with a grief-fueled rage. His father' s last, wheezing words echoed in my ears: "She did this... Sarah... with her rabbit food..." They blamed me for their self-inflicted misery. For years, I, a dietitian, poured my soul into saving my tech mogul father-in-law, Richard Sterling, from himself. He was a man of excess, his wife enabling every destructive craving, and my husband, David, worshipping his father's stubbornness as strength. I crafted healthy meals, managed his medications, and pleaded with him to care for his own body. My reward? His constant resentment, my mother-in-law's accusations of starvation, and David's growing impatience with the "unpleasantness" I caused. I fought for his health, for our family. I got a broken neck for my efforts. They chose his dying delusion over our life together, over my life. The darkness that swallowed me was absolute, an unjust end to a life spent trying to do the right thing. Then, I felt the sunlight on my face. It was warm, a gentle caress. I opened my eyes to the familiar silk sheets of my own bed, the digital clock glowing 8:15 AM, October 12th. The day it all began, the day Richard was diagnosed with severe type 2 diabetes. I had been given a second chance. Not a chance to save him, but a chance to save myself. This time, I would do nothing. I would let him eat his cake.
Beyond The Fairy Tale: A Monster

Beyond The Fairy Tale: A Monster

They called me the luckiest woman in New York, the girl from nowhere who had somehow captured the Sterling heir, Liam. He fought his powerful family for me, gave up his inheritance, and it was a fairy tale. Then, his brother died, and Liam became the sole heir, forced into an arranged marriage with his widowed sister-in-law, Scarlett. The city expected him to drop me, but he dramatically announced our engagement still stood. Everyone saw a grand love story. I knew the truth. While the world saw a hero, I saw a monster. He crept into Scarlett' s bed nightly, leaving me a prisoner in his house, bound by his family' s cruel rules. When I discovered I was pregnant, his mother, Mrs. Sterling, dragged me to a clinic, forcing an abortion for their "pure Sterling line." But the true horror came weeks later: an anonymous medical file revealed Liam hadn' t just allowed the abortion; he' d secretly ordered the doctor to remove my uterus, ensuring I could never bear another child, never have a claim to the Sterling fortune through an heir. He had carved out my womanhood. The love I had for him died, replaced by a cold, sharp rage. He thought I was broken, a fragile pet, but he was wrong. I would make him believe I died for him, a tragic victim of a love he destroyed. I would fake my death, escape this gilded cage, and one day, I would have my revenge. My freedom began with playing the docile, heartbroken lover, letting him believe he was in control, utterly unaware he was dancing to my tune.