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Billionaires Books for Women

Bestsellers Ongoing Completed
Sexy Behind The Mask

Sexy Behind The Mask

She hides behind ugly suits and fake names. He's done trusting women. When they meet in a masked sex club, neither realizes they've been fighting each other across boardroom tables for eighteen months. At Taylor Industries, she's Joy Smith-the frumpy CFO who drowns her curves in shapeless polyester and wearing a wig. At home, she's the forgotten wife of a cheating lawyer who hasn't touched her in so long she's starting to wonder if she's broken. When she finds hot pink lace panties stuffed in her couch cushions...definitely not hers, it's not heartbreak she feels. It's freedom. Grayson Taylor doesn't do relationships anymore. Not after walking in on his actress fiancée with another woman. Now he channels everything into hostile takeovers and board meetings, especially the ones where his overcautious CFO fights him on every goddamn acquisition. Joy Smith is brilliant, infuriating, and funny when he pushes all her buttons. But Honey is tired of being invisible. Tired of never having felt real pleasure. So, when her best friend gives her the details of The Velvet Room-Manhattan's most exclusive masked club-she promises herself just one night. One night to find out if her husband's right, if she really is frigid, or if she's just never been touched by the right hands. She doesn't expect the masked stranger who claims her the second she walks in. Doesn't expect the chemistry that ignites between them, the way he makes her body sing, or the orgasms that leave her shaking. Doesn't expect him to hand her an email address with one command: "Only me. No one else touches you."
A Billionaire's Calculated Revenge

A Billionaire's Calculated Revenge

I was back, standing at my own opulent wedding reception in the Hamptons, surrounded by the clinking of champagne glasses and whispers of the wealthy. Just moments before, I' d been bleeding out on wet asphalt, the last sound I heard my wife Chloe and her lover Carter laughing, discussing my ten-million-dollar life insurance policy. They' d mocked me as "a broke kid from Queens, a scholarship project," after I'd given them my talent, my loyalty, my very life. Now, reborn at this fateful moment, Chloe stood before me, her hand still stinging my cheek from a vicious, public slap, her face a mask of fury. The humiliation continued as my groundbreaking M&A project was publicly handed to Carter, his smug grin twisting my past all over again. Then, Chloe offered me a "health" smoothie, a seemingly kind gesture I now knew was a slow, mind-numbing poison designed to make me believe I was losing my sanity. The sheer depravity of their long-term scheme, making me doubt my own competence and worth, solidified into a frigid rage. How could I have been so blind, so trusting, to the depths of their calculated cruelty and endless betrayal? But this time, my heart wasn't beating with love or fear; it thrummed with a cold, steady drumbeat of resolve. They gave me a coffin in my first life. In this one, I would build them a trap so perfect, they wouldn't see it until the doors locked behind them.
No Second Chance, Mr. CEO

No Second Chance, Mr. CEO

I pretended to be a gold-digger, a clever social climber who snagged the CEO. But I was hiding a secret: I engineered our entire relationship to save Ethan' s life. My family' s foundation held the only cure for his rare disease, and the price was simple: he had to be family. He hated me for it, fueled by his "sickly" ex, Jessica, who conveniently claimed a mugging left her with chronic pain-a lie that bound him with guilt. Then a viral photo of Ethan and Jessica hit the gossip blogs. His immediate accusation stabbed me: "Did you do this? You were jealous." He systematically dismantled my career, stripping me of my key projects, forcing me to take the fall for Jessica' s colossal failures. When I discovered I was pregnant, I rushed to tell him, only to find Jessica waiting. She smirked, revealing her mugging was a drunken accident, then shoved me down a flight of stairs. I lay bleeding, miscarrying our baby, as Ethan scooped up wailing Jessica and called me a "monster." He walked away, leaving me to die. The man I saved, the father of my lost child, abandoned me for a pathological liar. The betrayal was absolute, the injustice unfathomable. But my powerful family didn't let me die. They faked my death, spirited me away, and wiped me from existence. Ethan, consumed by guilt once he discovered Jessica' s truth, frantically searched for a ghost. Three years later, he crashed my wedding, desperate for a second chance. He didn't know I orchestrated his presence, ready to deliver the final, devastating truth: our "marriage" was never legal. And the watch that haunted his desperate search? I threw it in a dumpster months ago.
Auctioning Ava: A Billion-Dollar Betrayal

Auctioning Ava: A Billion-Dollar Betrayal

My husband, Ethan, the charming CEO of Hayes Innovations, and I were the picture-perfect couple at our anniversary gala. I wanted a sapphire necklace for our milestone, a glimmer of hope for my struggling family art gallery. But then Chloe Vance, Ethan’s young intern who always seemed to be by his side, started bidding against me, encouraged by his subtle chuckles. The room watched as I spent five million dollars to win, a public humiliation masked as a playful game. Months later, my family’s legacy was systematically crumbling, financial ruin orchestrated with surgical precision. Ethan just offered platitudes, his eyes holding that same unreadable amusement. Then came the clandestine auction notice, a venue filled with predatory energy. There, on a stage, stood Ethan and Chloe, beaming. A massive screen flickered to life, displaying my most intimate moments – 365 private photos and videos Ethan had taken throughout our marriage. "My beautiful Ava," he used to say. Now, my entire life was a public spectacle, being auctioned off for their amusement. I used every last dime of my emergency fund, then liquidated all my personal assets, even old family jewelry. But it wasn't enough. With the crowd's cruel laughter echoing, the auctioneer declared my funds officially depleted. Chloe, my husband’s protégé, then offered to pay the next bid, her sweet concern dripping with poison. The abyss opened beneath me. How could he, the man who vowed to cherish me, orchestrate such a public, cruel destruction? Why was this intern, always by his side, so eager to participate in this calculated torment? Was this his twisted revenge for a simple public slight, or something far deeper, a monster hidden beneath a charming facade? I walked away from the jeering crowd, not to hide, but to make a single, desperate call: "Code Nightingale. I need The Circle. Now."
The Barren Wife's Billion-Dollar Secret

The Barren Wife's Billion-Dollar Secret

My husband, Mark, and I had built a life on a promise: dual incomes, no kids. For our freedom, our shared dreams, he even urged me to get a hysterectomy. I agreed, believing it cemented our bond. Years later, he brought home two “orphans,” Kevin and Kate. They were small, dark-haired, and oddly resembled Emily White, his high school flame, now a rising exec in my own company. I played the loving mother, pouring my heart and billions into them for eighteen years. Then, at their fake graduation party—a party for a future they weren’t remotely qualified for—Mark cornered me. With a smug grin, he demanded I sign over my entire multi-billion dollar empire to Kevin and Kate. Emily White glided over, divorce papers in hand, her voice dripping with venom: “Thank you for taking care of Mark and *my* children. It’s time for our family.” My parents’ pleas and warnings were ignored as I signed away everything. I watched my life unravel, my legacy stolen by the people I cherished most. The children I raised, his own blood with Emily, mocked me. As I lay bleeding on the asphalt, victims of their orchestrated “accident,” Kevin even kicked me, “Stupid old bitch.” Kate laughed, “Thanks for the money, Mom.” Dying, the betrayal was unbearable, a sharp, cold satisfaction mixed with burning rage. Why? How could they? The injustice screamed, a silent vow forged in darkness. Then, light. I woke up. Back at that dinner table, years ago, where Mark first uttered the word “hysterectomy.” This wasn’t a second chance. This was my turn. My eighteen-year revenge began now.
Ditch the Billionaire, Own My Better Life!

Ditch the Billionaire, Own My Better Life!

Hazel Foster had been married with Rayan Kingston for three years. Even though Hazel knows that Rayan had only married her because her face looked like his dead girlfriend Evleyn Hamper, she still tried her best to maintain her marriage, because she loved him and believed that maybe one day he also fall in love with her. However, one day Rayan's ex-girlfriend sister's Oliver Hamper kidnapped Hazel and she almost lost her life, but her so-called husband didn't even come to visit at hospital even once, but asked his assistant Simon to warn Hazel not to cause trouble for him. Hearing assistant's words, Hazel heart turned cold. Just then her phone buzzed. Olivia had posted a new photo on Instagram. In the picture, Rayan was carrying her upstairs in his arms-like a scene from some romantic movie. You couldn't see his face, only his back, but Hazel knew that silhouette anywhere. After three years of marriage, she could recognize him by the way his shoulders moved. That was her husband. The man she'd once believed was hers. The caption read: "Twisted my ankle, and someone insisted on carrying me." Below, the comments flooded in: "So sweet!" "Couple goals!" "Perfect together!" Hazel's hands trembled. Tears stung her eyes. While she'd been fighting for her life, her husband had been playing lover to another woman. She wiped her tears away quickly. He wasn't worth it. Not a single drop. Without hesitation, she called her friend. She didn't explain much-just asked her to prepare divorce papers. She realized that it was time for her to leave this so-called marriage. ***** At the courthouse. Hazel held the divorce certificate and left with her held high. Rayan looked at her back, and sneered, thinking she will certainly regret it and come to him soon. However, what he didn't know was that the one who was going to regret was not her, but him.