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Billionaires Books for Women

Bestsellers Ongoing Completed
The Billionaire's Perfect, Plastic Wife

The Billionaire's Perfect, Plastic Wife

For five years, I played the part of the perfect wife to Knox Steele, heir to a media empire. My life was a curated masterpiece, a reward for surviving the car accident his stepsister, Gemma, caused-an accident that was meant to kill me. At a charity gala, I saw her. Gemma, supposed to be locked away in rehab, was glowing. She was holding the hand of a small boy. And next to her, laughing as the boy tugged on his jacket, was my husband. Hiding in the shadows, I heard the boy call Knox "Daddy." I heard them planning his birthday party for the next day at our lake house-a "family-only" trip I was, as always, excluded from. Then I heard Gemma' s voice, laced with poison. "What about Adelaide? Will she be a problem?" "Don't worry about her," Knox said, his tone dismissive. "I'll tell her it's a business retreat. She'll stay home like a good little wife. Poor thing." My entire five-year marriage was a performance. A carefully constructed cage to keep me quiet while they lived their real life right under my nose. I wasn't family. I was the cover story. But the final betrayal was discovering their plan to drug my morning coffee, to keep me sedated and "unwell" so I wouldn't interfere with their celebration. They weren't just lying to me; they were going to incapacitate me. That's when the woman he married died. I signed the divorce papers, walking away from billions. I wanted nothing from them but their ruin. And as I watched them cut the birthday cake at the lake house, I smiled. My gift was on its way.
On Her Wedding Day, His Death Began

On Her Wedding Day, His Death Began

I was Ethan Miller, a boy from a trailer park, who married into the impossibly wealthy Vanderbilt family. My life with Vicky was a gilded cage – opulent, yes, but undeniably a prison. My stutter, a constant echo of my humble beginnings, always made me feel like an outsider in her world. But nothing prepared me for the day Vicky believed I'd abducted her ‘lover,' Julian Astor. Her voice, usually just sharp, turned venomous. She threatened to destroy my only family, my beloved grandparents, if I didn't produce him. And then, I watched, live on a screen, as a bulldozer tore apart their cherished farm. My frail grandmother collapsed. Vicky laughed, blaming me for every single splinter. From then on, I was a ghost in her mansion, silently enduring her escalating cruelty. She publicly humiliated me with leaked, shameful photos of my past. She had me doused with garbage at a lavish party. She framed me for poisoning Julian, then forced me to drain my own blood to save him. Finally, she threw me into a decrepit, cockroach-infested basement, filled with the rancid smell of my deepest traumas. How could love morph into such a grotesque instrument of torture? Was this her way of molding me, or just pure sadism? With nothing left to lose, only one desperate thought remained: freedom, at any cost. As Vicky married Julian, live-streamed directly to my dark prison, I swallowed an experimental drug. I hoped for a final, peaceful escape. But my ‘death' was just the beginning of her utter ruin.
BILLIONAIRE LEGAL WIFE

BILLIONAIRE LEGAL WIFE

"Would you allow me to sip on your coffee cup?" he asked. Whenever he tried to entice her, she quickly found a reason to avoid it. But he wouldn't settle for that. As time passed, he found himself more challenged by this woman who seemed unfazed by his charisma. "No," she quickly replied, her smile widening. "Why not? I don't have any contagious illnesses." "I'll do it for you," she answered. But before she could get up, he took the paper cup and brought it to his lips. "Iced coffee in the morning?" He raised an eyebrow when he realized it was cold. He immediately placed the glass back on her table. "I prefer it cold," she replied. He waited for her to take it back so she could drink. Perhaps she felt embarrassed, which is why she took another sip. "Now you just tasted my lips, sweetheart," he said with a smile while she still held the glass. He also noticed her cheeks turn slightly red. "How does it taste?" "It tastes like coffee," she shrugged and turned her attention back to the screen. Her reactions were starting to irritate him. He quickly stood up and headed to his office. Not even five minutes later, she entered his office with a pen and a few folders. He stood up and sat on the edge of the desk in front of her. "What's my schedule for today, sweetheart?" "You have only three meetings today because Mr. del Mundo suddenly canceled yesterday," she replied. "Yesterday was Sunday, Anikka." "He called my number," she answered, furrowing her brows at him. "He's calling you off office hours?" He handed Anikka the company phone she was supposed to use. It slipped his mind that clients would use it to call her even when she was off duty. "Just to cancel the meeting for today," she quickly explained. "Is Oliver calling you often?" he asked, referring to the supplier who now stood in front of her table. "Sort of." She shrugged again. He cursed quietly. "Add my visit to Zenclub at six in my schedule later," he instructed and returned to his swivel chair. "You're going with me," he added. "That's not within office hours, Jayzee," she declined, as he expected. He didn't pay any attention to her, instead starting to go through the folders she brought. "You will now be in charge of taking minutes of the meeting from now on," he also ordered, a task usually handled by his father's secretary. "You'll be with me in the conference room later." "A bit sudden, isn't it?" she smirked. He, on the other hand, was boiling with irritation at the thought that Oliver was often talking to her when she wasn't in the office. "It's part of your job as my secretary. I didn't assign it right away because you're still new." "Okay, boss," she said, teasingly this time, still smiling while he was serious. "Is there anything else you need?" "I need a coffee," he said without looking at her. "Hot or cold?" she asked. He stared at her, seeing her amused by his apparent annoyance. "I don't drink cold coffee, sweetheart." He looked at her intently. "I want it as 'hot' as you." He emphasized the last part, but she still didn't react. She left his office for a moment before returning with a cup of coffee. "Here's your hot coffee, sir," she said, still teasing him. He stood up to meet her. "Is this as hot as you?" he asked playfully, deliberately taking her hand as she handed him the cup. If she thought she could outsmart him with teasing, she was wrong. And if Oliver thought he could beat him to the girl, he was also wrong. He wouldn't be Jayzee Albano if he could be easily surpassed by another man. "You decide," she replied, waiting for him to take a sip of the coffee to answer his question. "I can't decide yet," he said after taking a sip. In truth, he had burned himself slightly because the coffee was still hot. But he had to stand by his words. "Why not?" she challenged him. "Because I haven't tasted you," he almost whispered, automatically placing one hand on her waist and kissing her in surprise. He quickly placed the cup on the table and raised his other hand to the back of her neck to deepen the kiss. To his surprise, Anikka responded in a way that showed she knew how to drive him further from reason. They both struggled to catch their breath afterwards. "I think you're hotter," he quickly said to dispel any awkwardness between them. She didn't respond, but quickly turned and left his room. He sat back in the swivel chair. Her mouth was sweet; a mixture of mint and coffee. He had answered one curiosity about Anikka - how she kissed and what her kisses tasted like. He was sure that was her first. He smiled and felt a sense of pride. He promised himself that wouldn't be the first and last. Welcome to my world, Anikka Merced... he said to himself.
The Assistant's Secret, The CEO's Obsession

The Assistant's Secret, The CEO's Obsession

They called it an "accidental drowning." Eighteen months. Eighteen months since my brother, Leo, was gone. His infectious laugh, his terrible jokes, all silenced. But I knew the truth. It was a lie. Izzy Sterling’s name was branded on my soul. Those Hamptons words – "Deal with him" – led to Leo’s broken body on the shore. Their money, their lawyers, buried the truth. So I spent eighteen months learning. Not just my NYU degree, but about the Sterlings, their dirty secrets. I became Ethan Reed’s executive assistant, perfect, invisible. I meticulously orchestrated Izzy Sterling’s downfall, manipulating jealousy, sowing doubt, turning her own cruelty against her. My plan worked. I replaced her. Yet, somewhere along the way, I fell in love with Ethan, the man I was meant to use. Just as I thought justice was within reach, a new, far more cunning darkness emerged: Julian Vance. Not just a cover-up artist, but a true monster. He saw me as a threat, poisoned me, kidnapped me, even hired a hitman for my unborn child. Each escalating attack pushed me to the edge, a new kind of desperation. Cornered, I confessed my carefully guarded secrets to Ethan. And to my surprise, he didn't run. Instead, he chose to fight with me, against the monsters who wronged my family, against anyone who threatened our newfound love. But even after Julian's imprisonment, a ruthless business rival, Marcus Thorne, launched a deadly attack, pushing me into premature labor. This isn't just about truth anymore. It’s about survival. It's about protecting what’s left, and ensuring no one else suffers like Leo, even if it means fighting beyond the law.