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Billionaires Books for Women

Bestsellers Ongoing Completed
I Left Broken and Fat, I Came Back His Boss With Triplets

I Left Broken and Fat, I Came Back His Boss With Triplets

I LEFT BROKEN AND FAT, I CAME BACK HIS BOSS WITH TRIPLETS Fourteen months, three weeks, four days. That is how long Emma Carson has been married to a man who barely looks at her. She has learned to zip her own dresses, eat dinners alone, and stand slightly behind her husband at every event. Being overlooked teaches you to listen extremely well. What she has not learned is what Liam Carson planned two weeks before the wedding. Six months. Marry her cleanly. End it cleanly. Return to the woman he actually wanted. But Liam serves the divorce over coffee like he is cancelling a subscription, sends Emma away with nothing but her dignity, and never asks the one question that would have changed everything. He never asks if she is carrying his child. She is. Three of them. Eighteen months later, Emma Carson does not exist anymore. Emma Bellamy does. She runs Bellamy Inc, one of Europe's fastest-rising companies. She answers to no one. She raises three brilliant, chaotic, grey-eyed children in a Paris apartment filled with love instead of loneliness. Nobody in her industry knows who she used to be. Until Carson Holdings submits a meeting request. She declines it. Then another. When Liam finally flies to Paris himself, Emma sits at the head of her own boardroom table and tells him to call her Ms. Bellamy. He thought he was closing a business deal. He has no idea what he is walking into. He wants the partnership. He will have to earn everything else. The company. The forgiveness. The three small children with his eyes who have never been told his name. Some women fall apart. Emma Bellamy built an empire.
He Broke My Hands, I Broke His Empire

He Broke My Hands, I Broke His Empire

Caleb, my brilliant partner and fiancé, stroked my hand. "One more month, Gabby," he whispered, "and you'll officially be the COO of Aura. My queen." We were celebrating our empire, the tech company I architected from our dorm room. I thought we were building a kingdom together. That was the last clear thing I remembered before waking up to shattering pain. My hands, once capable of flying across a keyboard, were broken, mangled. Rough voices laughed from beyond a thin wall: "Caleb paid good money... said to make sure her hands were unusable." My world imploded. It was Caleb. All of it. He "rescued" me, a perfect performance for the world. But in the ambulance, he leaned in, his breath warm against my ear. "You should have just been happy with what you had. Now, you have nothing." My hospital room became a gilded cage. I listened as he plotted with his intern, Molly, to take my COO position, mocking my nerve damage, certain I was finished. He even sabotaged my surgery, ensuring permanent injury. The humiliation peaked when he wheeled me onto a stage, only for me to "accidentally" fall, exposed and vulnerable, to the world. The "Shark of Silicon Valley" became "Poor Gabby Johns," a tragic spectacle. Every condescending word, every false show of concern, was a fresh wound. He thought he'd broken me, reduced me to a pitiful charity case. He had no idea. While he celebrated his victory, believing I was defeated, a hidden message whispered into an encrypted tablet ignited a plan. I pretended to surrender, buying myself time. He just made his biggest mistake: underestimating the woman he tried to bury. I was re-arming, and the real war was about to begin.