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Billionaires Books for Women

Bestsellers Ongoing Completed
My Blind Wife Wants Divorce

My Blind Wife Wants Divorce

Leonel Grisham, CEO Mountain Ltd, 38th, considers his wife to be merely a status symbol. There is no love between them. It's cold. They rarely spend time together. They rarely even show affection to each other, which can be counted on one hand. Throughout their 5-year marriage, nothing was special except that Chloe Delilah is Leonel's parents' favorite daughter-in-law. Leo actually has a girlfriend whom he loves deeply. Unfortunately, Leo's mother disapproves because his girlfriend, Ester Gabriella, is an ordinary class photo model. Leo's world revolves around his work and Ester. Chloe is not a part of his life; she is just a trophy wife. Until the unfortunate incident that took away Chloe's eyesight. It also shocked Leo when Chloe, after waking up from a coma, requested a divorce. Leo cannot accept Chloe's ridiculous request. But she insists, no matter what happens. This includes demanding all of Leo's assets and shares as stipulated in their prenuptial agreement. Leo can't understand how Chloe could express such a crazy idea. One by one, Leo discovers that Chloe's accident was staged. Someone orchestrated it all. Mountain Pte is also in a significant crisis because the mastermind is targeting the destruction of the Group that Leo leads. Chloe continues to insist until she eventually realizes that her accident was not without reason. Will Chloe maintain her desires or help Leo regain his power in Mountain Ltd?
Reclaiming My Lost Sons

Reclaiming My Lost Sons

My life was built on an American dream: a loving wife, Jessica, and our incredible 9-year-old son, Leo. He was the center of my world. Then, a brutal blow. Jessica was cheating, and my friend revealed, "Leo isn't yours." My wife confirmed it brazenly, smirking, naming a wealthy businessman as her lover and Leo's biological father. My very existence fractured. I sought solace from my mother, Sarah, my rock. Instead, she demanded I stay married. She bafflingly sided with Jessica, even giving her money for "debts" while denying my struggling startup a vital loan. When we both fell ill, she coldly gave my medicine to Jessica, leaving me to suffer. Her serene facade now hid a chilling calculation. "Get out!" I screamed, renouncing her, and moved out, filing for divorce, utterly abandoned. How could my own mother betray me so utterly? Why was she protecting the woman who destroyed everything? Was she mad, or was there a sinister plot behind her actions? Each day plunged me deeper into suspicion, despair, and profound confusion. Months later, a cryptic text from her: "Come to the festival. Now. You need to see this." Amidst the crowd, she stood with a boy identical to Leo. As my wife, holding our Leo, confronted her, my mother dropped the bombshell. "This is Ethan," she announced, "your son." "And so is Leo." "They are your biological twin sons. Yours and Emily's." My deceased first wife. The unimaginable truth had finally begun to unfold.
The Wife He Never Touched

The Wife He Never Touched

For five years, I, Chloe Davis, was the woman every other woman wanted to be, married to a man whose wealth was matched only by his handsome face, living in a gilded cage. But in three years of marriage, he had never touched me, our bedroom cold and empty. On my ninety-ninth attempt to seduce my husband, Ethan, he finally pulled me close. But as pleasure washed over me, he whispered, "Ashley, you know I love you. Marrying Chloe was something I had to do. How could you let her do this? How could you let her seduce me?" His confession shattered me. He wasn't incapable; he just didn't love me. His heart belonged to Ashley Thompson, his niece and my best friend, and I was just a shield. Ashley, the one who had encouraged me to pursue him, was the real object of his affection. Later, as I lay dizzy and confused in a hospital bed from donating my kidney to Ashley, Ethan offered me anything I wanted, even a child, if I saved her, revealing his plan to use me as a surrogate for him and Ashley. The truth sliced through my seven years of devotion like a knife. After all I'd given, all I' d sacrificed, I was just a tool in their twisted game, a cover for their sordid affair. Even my wedding ring was a duplicate of Ashley' s. I secretly signed our divorce papers on the operating table, and in the dead of night, I walked out of that mansion, leaving behind the shattered pieces of my naive heart and a final message: "Happy divorce! Never see you again!"
Playing the Pawn, Winning the Game

Playing the Pawn, Winning the Game

For seven long years, I've lived in this gilded cage, the King family mansion, playing the role of the quiet, mousy charity case, pathetically infatuated with Ethan Prescott – Victoria King' s dazzling fiancé. Everyone, especially Victoria, thought I was a fool, a harmless fixture always mooning over her prize. Then, hidden in the library shadows, I overheard their wicked plan. Victoria' s voice, sharp with disdain, saying I was 'still mooning over him.' And Ethan, smooth as silk, calling it 'useful,' for 'keeps her docile.' The chilling part? Their scheme to ensure I was 'out of sight for good,' and horrifyingly, Ethan's suggestion: 'Or better yet, pregnant. That would certainly tie things up neatly, wouldn't it?' My breath caught, but inside, a cold fire ignited. Pregnant. So that was their game: ruin me completely, tie me down, then discard me. And I played my part beautifully. I let them see my 'blush,' feigned shyness, even made sure they 'overheard' my morning sickness. They exchanged triumphant glances, utterly convinced their cruel masterpiece was unfolding perfectly. They believed I was a mere pawn, eating out of their hands, destined for a pauper's grave like my mother, Sarah Vance. They took everything from her – her life, her dignity – and then from me. Every sneer, every whispered insult, every moment of humiliation I endured was a necessary sacrifice, a foundation built on their scorn. But they were fools, hopelessly blinded by their arrogance. They had no idea who they were truly dealing with. Ethan, their precious golden boy, was just a finely crafted key, and I was learning every single one of its grooves. Let them think they were in control. The game, this grand, devastating game of revenge, had been mine all along.
The Pentagon's Fury

The Pentagon's Fury

My life was perfect. I had a loving husband, Andrew, and our bright, energetic five-year-old son, Caleb. We lived happily in Chicago, a normal American family. Then, in a screech of tires and a thunderous crash, a low-slung, obscenely yellow Lamborghini, driven by rich kid Barney Hughes, stole them from me. One moment they were alive, the next, crumpled on the asphalt. But the nightmare didn' t end there. Barney' s father, a powerful real estate magnate, bought off the police, made surveillance footage vanish, and had my family' s bodies illegally cremated. Every lawyer I approached laughed me out of their office, warning of "professional suicide" against the Hughes empire. I lost my job, and then Barney sued me for harassment. My world crumbled. One night, Barney and his thugs broke into my home, beat me mercilessly, shattered every photo of my family, then committed the ultimate desecration: they opened the box of ashes, the stolen remains of my husband and son, and dumped them over my head. "Buy yourself a new kid or something. Get over it," he sneered, before urinating on the floor beside me. How could this happen in America? How could a family of heroes, dedicated to service, be murdered and then have their memory so brutally insulted by a corrupt system? Lying broken on the floor, covered in dust and urine, I suddenly remembered two Medal of Honor recipients and an old promise: "The United States Army does not forget its own." I packed the medals and made a silent vow. My fight had just begun.
Love Lost, Self Found

Love Lost, Self Found

The invitation sat in my hand, a gilded lie addressed to "The Chen Residence," leading me into a lavish hall humming with triumph. On a giant screen, my husband, David Chen, was hailed as a visionary billionaire, the man behind Genesis Inc.-a stark contrast to the humble app developer who used to struggle for our rent. My mind reeled as I remembered selling my grandmother's treasured necklace, donating every penny of my art money to his "struggling startup," and watching him feign humility while I slaved away at three jobs, my dreams gathering dust for ten years. Then, I saw her: Emily Hayes, his COO, his collegiate sweetheart, their public smiles melting into an intimate embrace as I overheard her murmur, "She' s still useful," and David dismissively add, "The story of my 'struggle' is good for PR." My stomach churned-my entire married life a calculated performance, my sacrifices the fuel for his betrayal, leaving me with nothing but raw hands and a shattered heart. The truth hit me like a physical blow: he hadn't just taken everything; he had laughed while doing it, while I counted pennies in our hovel as he built an empire with another woman. Back in our cramped apartment, memories flooded back of his manufactured poverty, the cruel deception surrounding my miscarriage, and his chilling inaction as my father died, money he had all along. The final insult came in a lavish penthouse suite where David and Emily, dripping with feigned concern for his "debt," demanded I kneel and then crawl before them, a twisted game designed to bleed me dry of dignity. My fury finally broke through the numbness as David, mask discarded, grabbed me, warning, "You're not going anywhere. You'll do as you're told." Then, Emily slapped me, showering me with hundreds of dollars, sneering, "Pick it up. Isn't that what you're good at? Scrabbling for scraps?" as David watched, complicit. His final betrayal arrived with Emily, wearing my deceased mother's sacred jade bracelet, stolen by David, prompting me to lash out and her to feign injury. He believed her instantly, his eyes pure hatred, so I grabbed a plate shard, dragging it across my own arm-a desperate, bloody truth in their world of lies. Abandoned, bleeding, and aching for justice, I made a choice: there would be no more lies, no more victims, only the chilling dawn of revenge.