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
Marrying My Ex's Billionaire Brother

Marrying My Ex's Billionaire Brother

I stood alone in the grand lobby of City Hall. It was exactly noon, and my marriage reservation had officially expired. My fiancé, Caleb, didn't show up. Instead, my best friend sent me a video of him at a high-end Manhattan club. He was wearing his tailored wedding suit, pushing a massive five-tier birthday cake for his sister, Isla. When I rushed to the VIP booth to confront him, Caleb wasn't apologetic at all. He instinctively shielded Isla behind his body while his wealthy friends laughed at me. "Are you done throwing a tantrum? Did you really have to come here and humiliate her on her birthday?" Isla leaned into his chest, fake-crying and begging me not to be mad. Caleb glared at me, warning me that if I walked out the door today, I should never come back to beg him. Looking at the man I was supposed to marry, I felt completely disgusted. For three years, he had canceled our anniversaries and dinners every time Isla had a headache or felt lonely. He genuinely believed his blatant favoritism was justified, leaving me to look like the villain. I realized I had just wasted my youth on a dog. I pulled off my diamond ring, smashed it hard into the top of the expensive cake, and walked away. Just as I left the club, my phone rang. It was Julian Blackwood, Caleb's ruthless, billionaire older brother. "Since you planned on getting married today, you might as well change the groom," his deep voice said. "Become his sister-in-law, and make him bow his head to you." I clenched my ID card and walked straight toward his Rolls-Royce.
After the Divorce, He Warned Off Every Man Who Looked at Her

After the Divorce, He Warned Off Every Man Who Looked at Her

For three years, Hortense was trapped in a gilded cage, playing the perfect, submissive wife to billionaire CEO Gerhardt Goodwin. The fragile facade shattered when his mistress, Brittni, waltzed into their Upper East Side townhouse with the front door passcode, flaunting an ultrasound photo of Gerhardt's "heir." When Hortense coldly demanded a divorce, Gerhardt violently refused. He used her sick mother's health insurance to force her compliance and keep her as a prisoner. At the hospital, Brittni deliberately faked a sudden miscarriage to frame her, and Gerhardt looked at Hortense with pure, undiluted hatred. "If anything happens to that baby, I will destroy you." To make matters worse, Clyde Emerson—the psychotic stalker who had once used a legal loophole to terminate Hortense's own pregnancy—suddenly resurfaced, cornering her in a hallway and vowing to claim her. Hortense was suffocating in despair. She had sacrificed her career for a man whose brain injury made him forget she had saved his life, replacing his love with a fabricated, venomous hatred. Why wouldn't her cruel husband just let her go? Why was she being punished and humiliated while he built a new family? The breaking point came when Brittni publicly mocked her for being a "barren, empty vessel." All the pain vanished, replaced by a terrifying, icy resolve. Hortense slapped the mistress hard across the face, filed a unilateral divorce petition despite Gerhardt's furious threats, and made a decisive phone call. "Paul, it's Hortense. I need your help. It's time to come home."
Reborn on the Day of Reckoning

Reborn on the Day of Reckoning

The faint line on the pregnancy test glowed, a stark white against the cold marble. My hand trembled, not with joy, but with the icy grip of a memory that chilled me to the bone. This was the day, the exact day it all began to unravel in my first life. Ethan, my charming, ambitious husband, a rising Harrison political star. And Seraphina, my beautiful, "golden child" stepsister, who always got what she wanted. I remembered their smiles, their whispers, and how they destroyed me. The searing pain of the car veering off the road, the blinding headlights, Sera' s triumphant sneer in the shadows just before the end. They wanted my inheritance, my position, and my very existence gone. My baby, this tiny, unformed life inside me now, had died with me then. Their betrayal was complete, my fate sealed. How could they have been so cruel, so calculating, to orchestrate such a gruesome end for a naive wife and her unborn child? The bitter injustice had consumed me, haunting my final moments. Yet, here I was. Reborn. I was actually back, precisely on the day of my first demise. The universe, it seemed, had a twisted sense of humor, or perhaps, a penchant for second acts. But this time, I wouldn' t be the unaware victim. Ava Harrison would no longer be a naive fool, easily dazzled and discarded. This time, Ava Harrison would be the one pulling the strings. My objective was clear, etched in the remembered pain: secure my child' s future, and make them all pay. Every single one of them. My revenge finally begins tonight.
Beyond the Fairytale Facade

Beyond the Fairytale Facade

My fiancé, tech mogul Ethan Reed, and I were the epitome of New York City's fairytale romance. For ten years, our "perfect love story" graced billboards and magazine covers, culminating in the highly anticipated "wedding of the decade." But my world shattered when I saw him. Through a discreet one-way observation window, I watched Ethan-my Ethan-in his penthouse office, engaged in graphic acts with his executive assistant, Chloe Vance. Her triumphant smirk, directed straight at me, made it clear: this wasn't an accident. The humiliation escalated into a relentless campaign of psychological torture. Chloe sent vile texts, explicit photos of them, even a horrific "penthouse tally" of used condoms she boasted they'd amassed while I lay sick. Meanwhile, Ethan played the doting fiancé, planning our wedding with sickening enthusiasm. I watched my Parisian bridal gown, custom-made for me, defiled as Chloe wore it, preening before Ethan, who then engaged in sordid acts with her in the fitting room. The ultimate affront came at my beloved mentor's funeral, where I caught them engaging in despicable acts, steps away from her casket. The city adored our love story, oblivious to the monstrous lies. My life, my integrity, everything felt like a grand, public fraud. How could anyone live such a public lie for so long? Why did everyone believe him, even as my world crumbled around me? But their cruelty didn't break me; it forged an icy resolve. I accepted a Federal Identity Relocation Service offer to disappear, to become Alex Parker. But before vanishing, I intended to ensure Ethan Reed's perfect world, and his public image, collapsed just as spectacularly as mine had. I meticulously collected every piece of evidence, every message, every video. The wedding of the decade would still happen. It just wouldn't be the one anyone expected.