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Billionaires Books for Women

Bestsellers Ongoing Completed
Your Caresses On My Skin

Your Caresses On My Skin

Nikolay Petrov, heir to a large billionaire sum and the family business; only child; obstinate; Trained since childhood only for one thing, to kill whoever gets in his way and how until now he had managed to comply. Nobody messes with the Petrov’s, they are the most powerful dynasty in all of Russia, but because of some conflicts and bad alliances he will have to leave his native country and seek refuge somewhere in Spain, who would say? His father would probably see him as a stain on the family legacy and would not help solve the problems that involved his son. Because of all his mistakes, his whole family had to leave Russia and get shelters in neighboring countries. Ivonne Wilson, a poor orphan girl who was left at the hands of her aunt when her two parents died, in different circumstances, some suspicious as expressed by the national police at some point, will have to endure a life that never corresponded to her and that she did not ask for, her aunt will want to seize everything that once belonged to her niece and her mother. After an assassination order against her, Ivonne between a swing of events linked in her search for freedom, escapes from the horrible place where she was trapped and ends up in the house that belonged to her boyfriend, but now, coincidentally, belongs to Nikolay Petrov, the biggest mobster in Russia and her best option to survive. He offers her refuge in exchange for some favors that could help him out of his mess, but what, would start this whole game in which faithful fate puts us and cruel life destroys us, can these young lovers save themselves from all the problems that each entail? Could it be that Nikolay will involve Ivonne with his affairs and end up losing her? Or, on the contrary, will it be Ivonne who lies Nikolay in his problems and ends up destroying the rest of his family's legacy?
Too Late To Beg The Heiress

Too Late To Beg The Heiress

For eighteen years, Arielle was raised in a cramped trailer park, treated as nothing more than a walking blood bag to keep her sick sister, Kimora, breathing. But today, her adoptive family hurled her belongings into a muddy pothole and kicked her out into the freezing rain. "Get the hell out, you ungrateful parasite! You'll rot in the gutter!" Kimora’s wealthy biological mother threw a check at her chest, warning her to stay away, while Kimora stepped out of a Porsche to mock her in the mud, flaunting her upcoming violin solo at Lincoln Center. They didn't care that Arielle was the one locked in a basement, forced to write that very violin piece until her fingers bled. They had drained eight hundred milliliters of her blood every month to keep up the illusion of Kimora's health, and now that they were done using her, they threw her away like garbage. Did they really think she was just a fragile, broken country girl who would starve without them? They had no idea she was a top-tier hacker who had just frozen a third of their offshore assets with a single keystroke. As a massive, armored Maybach pulled up to take her back to her true bloodline—the ultra-wealthy Chandler empire—and her terrifyingly powerful billionaire fiancé, Arielle wiped the mud from her face. Manhattan was waiting, and she was going to burn their world to the ground.
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.
Bound by Blood and Vows

Bound by Blood and Vows

Aria Vescari was never the sister meant to be noticed. She lived in the quiet corners of her family's life, eclipsed by Bella-the favored daughter, the beauty, the one adored by all. While Bella basked in admiration and luxury, Aria worked quietly, attempting to build a life of her own, far from the expectations and spotlight that never seemed to touch her. But everything changed when her father's company stood at the edge of collapse. Desperate and drowning in debt, he reached out to old connections, unaware of the chain reaction he was about to set in motion. Leonardo Matteo Ricci was a man forged in cold ambition. He didn't believe in love, in softness, or in second chances. Raised at the helm of a ruthless Mafia empire, he learned early that emotion was weakness, and power meant survival. To the outside world, he was a billionaire businessman, sharp and controlled. Behind closed doors, he was a strategist-a man who moved pieces, not people. The only thing he never allowed himself to be was a pawn. When his mother demanded marriage, Leonardo didn't argue. He didn't believe in the illusion of choice or freedom. If it had to happen, it would be on his terms. He chose a bride with precision, not passion. He didn't pick the girl who flirted in diamonds or laughed too loudly at his words. He chose the one who stood in silence. The one who didn't look at him with infatuation, but with wariness. He chose Aria. It wasn't about love. It was about leverage. Her father's debt would vanish. In return, she would wear his ring. Aria didn't ask for the arrangement. She didn't dream of power or privilege. But when faced with her family's ruin, she accepted what she couldn't change. In a single moment, she stepped into a world she didn't understand, beside a man she didn't trust, bound by a vow that wasn't built on affection-but control. Their marriage was cold from the beginning. Leonardo made no effort to pretend otherwise. Aria was given status, wealth, a new name-but no warmth. In public, she became Mrs. Ricci. In private, she was alone. And yet, Aria didn't break. She adapted. She observed. She stayed quiet, but never small. She learned to navigate the world of underground politics and whispered threats. She didn't chase Leonardo's attention or beg for his affection. That silence, more than anything, began to pull him in. He didn't understand her. She wasn't like the women who surrounded him. She didn't flatter. She didn't scheme. She didn't pretend. She simply existed-unmoved, unshaken, and completely uninterested in what he could offer. And that made her dangerous in a way he never expected. Behind closed doors, the air shifted. It wasn't warmth, not yet. But tension. A kind of awareness neither of them spoke of. There were stolen glances across marble halls, an accidental brush of hands, the heaviness of words left unsaid. Slowly, without meaning to, they became something more than strangers bound by contract. But not everyone welcomed the shift. Bella watched the world she thought was hers unravel. She had spent years imagining herself beside Leonardo-imagining power, love, and a name like Ricci attached to her own. Aria's marriage felt like betrayal. And in betrayal, she found rage. Jealousy turned sharp. Whispers turned into sabotage. Bella wasn't just heartbroken-she was humiliated. In her eyes, Aria had stolen the life she was born for. And she would stop at nothing to take it back. Tensions rose inside the house and outside its walls. Leonardo's enemies, always watching, began to notice his attention shifting. They saw in Aria something rare-a weakness they could exploit. In the shadows of loyalty and power, danger circled. A single misstep could mean war. Leonardo had never cared for weakness. But for the first time, he cared for her. What began as a calculated decision turned into something neither of them could define. He began to protect her-not out of obligation, but instinct. He saw how she moved, how she listened, how she began to understand the weight of the world she married into. And Aria, who once only wanted freedom, now had to decide what that meant. Because freedom might mean walking away. And leaving might mean losing everything they'd quietly built. As Bella pushed further into chaos, as enemies in the criminal underworld sharpened their blades, as Leonardo's control began to fray beneath the pressure of emotion he didn't know how to name-Aria became the center of it all. No longer the invisible sister. No longer the quiet girl. She was the wife of a man feared by an entire city. A woman others wanted to break, who refused to bend. A girl who once lived in shadows, now standing in the most dangerous spotlight of all. Their marriage wasn't romantic. It wasn't perfect. It wasn't built on dreams. But it was real. And in the world they belonged to-real was the only thing that survived.
The Billionaire's Unwanted Heir

The Billionaire's Unwanted Heir

For five long years, my sister Meg and I lived in Ryan Sterling's opulent mansion, a "gilded cage" disguised as an act of kindness after our accident. My days were consumed by caring for his demanding son, Kyler, while my musical dreams lay dormant, my face forever marked. One morning, Kyler, with a malicious smirk, deliberately scalded my guitar hand with scorching coffee. But a far colder burn came moments later: I was six weeks pregnant with Ryan's baby. His chilling words, delivered with flat precision, demanded: "An abortion, Ellie. It's the only way." My hand blistered, a constant ache, yet it was dwarfed by his casual dismissal of our unborn child as a mere "complication." He spoke of my "damaged" and "dependent" state, his tone echoing the pervasive control that had suffocated us for five years. How could the man who once seemed captivated by my music now strip me of all humanity, reducing my life, my body, and my child to inconvenient problems? This callous disregard, this profound sense of injustice, was the final, devastating cut to my soul. But in that instant, a desperate resolve ignited within me. I would not bring my beloved child into such a cold, demeaning existence, nor would I let her witness my own subjugation. Clasping my still-blistering hand, now a symbol of their cruelty and my newfound defiance, I looked Ryan in the eye and declared, voice trembling but firm: "Meg and I are leaving."