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Billionaires Books for Women

Bestsellers Ongoing Completed
Mysterious Husband Is a Billionaire

Mysterious Husband Is a Billionaire

"Carroll Brown is dead! But you have to marry him in your sister's name." My mother said to me in a cold tone. My sister was engaged to the hottest billionaire. It should have been a perfect marriage. Unexpectedly, Carroll was dead in an accident. My sister didn't want to become a widow, so she forced me to marry her dead fiance. And I had no right to refuse her. Actually, I was the biological daughter of the Smith family. My sister was an adoptive one. My sister and I had been swapped at the hospital when we were just born. My parents had already had a deep relationship with her. So they chose to sacrifice me. On the wedding day, I was taken to the mourning hall. "Ma'am, please keep Master company and let him feel warm." The housekeeper said with a cold expression. I couldn't help but look up at the portrait above the coffin, and my heart skipped a beat at this glance. The man in the portrait was more handsome than the superstars in Hollywood. Carroll Brown? My dead husband? Wow, he was really handsome! I didn't know how long had passed when my stomach began to rebel. After one glance at the coffin, I swallowed my saliva and then begged with my fingers crossed. "Mr. Carroll, I'm starving! May I eat your pastries? You don't mind, do you?" "I do." "Ah!" Scared, I broke out in a cold sweat. My legs went limp, and I fell to the ground. I shouted, "Ghost!" Carroll curled his lips, leaned over, and touched the black coffin. "Mr. Carroll has risen from the dead. What do you think of this headline tomorrow?"
The Mistress's Deceit

The Mistress's Deceit

I was reborn, back in a sterile hospital room, clutching my swollen belly, desperately fighting the excruciating pain of labor. My aim: to delay the birth of my twins, believing that if Chloe' s child was born first, Ethan might spare mine. But my husband, Ethan Sterling, was a pawn in a cruel game. He was convinced by his manipulative mistress, Chloe Evans, that I was a monstrous villain from our past life, deserving of only destruction. He was already celebrating Chloe's son, declared his heir, while I lay in agony. My desperate sacrifice was in vain. I was forcibly dragged from the hospital mid-labor, compelled to ingest a miscarriage-inducing tonic, then brutally beaten and publicly shamed. Bleeding profusely, I heard the devastating news: my innocent father had been murdered by Ethan's command. One of my precious twins was already gone, a silent casualty of their monstrous deceit. Imprisoned in a frigid cellar, dying a slow, painful death, I couldn' t grasp how the man I once loved could be so utterly blind, so consumed by a delusion that he would destroy everything, even his own family. The injustice was an unbearable weight, yet the terrifying question remained: how could he not see Chloe's wicked lies? Yet, a twisted fate intervened. On the brink of death, my supposed demise shockingly exposed Chloe' s elaborate fraud to Ethan. Consumed by a horrifying, soul-crushing regret, he sought his own form of brutal justice: orchestrating a fiery explosion that consumed Chloe, her child, and himself. I miraculously survived, with one last, living son. Now, I am relentlessly building a new life, refusing all traces of the Sterling curse, choosing absolute freedom over a tainted fortune that once cost me everything.
The Mafia Lord’s Revenge Possession [Life Of A Substitute Bride]

The Mafia Lord’s Revenge Possession [Life Of A Substitute Bride]

"You know, you always look so much better when I mark you up." He husked out as he palmed my burning cheeks. I buried my face in the soft, silky sheets some more, muffling the stuttered whimper that bubbled past my throat. "If you're going to act like a desperate little brat, I'm going to treat you like one. Got It?” ——— When eighteen year old Mia’s identical twin gets betrothed to an underboss, Mia was silently grateful for being the least favorite twin who was never noticed. Her relief was abruptly shortened when her twin disappeared on her wedding day, which resulted in Mia being forced to take her twin’s spot and marry a man way older than her father. Mia thought her life could never get any worse, but was proved wrong on her wedding night, when her newly wedded husband was killed and she was being kidnapped by a Mafia Lord hellbent on getting revenge on her father through her, showing her just how cruel and heartless, power starved and rage-blinded men could be. And yet, Mia found herself falling. Falling ridiculously fast, for the most dangerous mafia lord to ever walk the earth. Lorenzo Domenico, the one who never dies. All Lorenzo wanted was to get revenge, he was supposed to put a bullet through the petite girl’s pretty face and send her body back to her father as a present. But somehow, here he was– willing to go to any lengths to protect, keep her safe, and all to himself.
Marrying My Runaway Groom's Powerful Father

Marrying My Runaway Groom's Powerful Father

I was sitting in the Presidential Suite of The Pierre, wearing a Vera Wang gown worth more than most people earn in a decade. It was supposed to be the wedding of the century, the final move to merge two of Manhattan's most powerful empires. Then my phone buzzed. It was an Instagram Story from my fiancé, Jameson. He was at Charles de Gaulle Airport in Paris with a caption that read: "Fuck the chains. Chasing freedom." He hadn't just gotten cold feet; he had abandoned me at the altar to run across the world. My father didn't come in to comfort me. He burst through the door roaring about a lost acquisition deal, telling me the Holland Group would strip our family for parts if the ceremony didn't happen by noon. My stepmother wailed about us becoming the laughingstock of the Upper East Side. The Holland PR director even suggested I fake a "panic attack" to make myself look weak and sympathetic to save their stock price. Then Jameson’s sleazy cousin, Pierce, walked in with a lopsided grin, offering to "step in" and marry me just to get his hands on my assets. I looked at them and realized I wasn't a daughter or a bride to anyone in that room. I was a failed asset, a bouncing check, a girl whose own father told her to go to Paris and "beg" the man who had just publicly humiliated her. The girl who wanted to be loved died in that mirror. I realized that if I was going to be sold to save a merger, I was going to sell myself to the one who actually controlled the money. I marched past my parents and walked straight into the VIP holding room. I looked the most powerful man in the room—Jameson’s cold, ruthless uncle, Fletcher Holland—dead in the eye and threw the iPad on the table. "Jameson is gone," I said, my voice as hard as stone. "Marry me instead."