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Billionaires Books for Women

Bestsellers Ongoing Completed
CLAIMED BY THE CALLAHAN HEIR

CLAIMED BY THE CALLAHAN HEIR

I came to Montclair Crown University to earn my scholarship and disappear into a better future. I didn't expect my past to be projected onto a giant screen in front of the entire university. One photograph. My mother standing beside Zayn Callahan's father-twenty-one years ago. I had never seen that photo in my life. Before I can even breathe, a priceless Callahan family heirloom disappears. And somehow, all the evidence points to me. The board wants me expelled. The students want me destroyed. Everyone except him. Zayn Callahan. Cold. Arrogant. Untouchable. The heir to the Callahan dynasty-and the one man who should hate me the most. Instead, he steps between me and his own family. "She's not the thief." I look at him, shaking. "How do you know?" His eyes never leave mine. "Because you're the reason they stole it in the first place." Suddenly, my scholarship is a lie. Someone is following me after class. My mother's name is being erased from the university archives. And the Callahans are hiding a secret that began the night I was born. To survive, I have to work with Zayn. Forced proximity. Fake dating to silence the scandal. Jealousy that feels far too real. The closer we get to the truth, the harder it becomes to pretend we hate each other. But Zayn is hiding something from me. Something about my mother. Something about why my scholarship was approved before I even applied. And when I finally discover what he knew all along, I'll have to choose between trusting the boy I was never supposed to fall for... or exposing the truth that could destroy his entire empire. I didn't come to Montclair Crown to fall for the Callahan heir. I came for a future. I just didn't know he would become my biggest scandal.
No Longer Just a Wife

No Longer Just a Wife

I was Ava, the unsung architect behind InnovateNext, the tech empire my husband Ethan now helmed. For eight years, I' d been his devoted wife, sacrificing my groundbreaking career and protecting his fragile ego by taking the blame for our infertility. Our Connecticut home was a picture of domestic bliss, a testament to our seemingly perfect life. Then came the ping. A casual link from a friend, unfurling a private Instagram story, shattered everything. There was Ethan, supposedly headlining a conference in San Francisco, but geotagged in SoHo, New York. He stood beaming in a luxury baby boutique, arm around Chloe, a young intern, her belly unmistakably round. The look on his face – pure, unadulterated joy – was a stranger to me. My frantic call to him went to voicemail, followed by his immediate lie: "In a keynote session. Can't talk." Within hours, I faced Chloe in a lavish SoHo loft, perfectly tailored to the desires Ethan had always denied me. She smugly revealed their three-year affair, flaunting how Ethan mirrored "my Pinterest boards" for her, not me. Her final, cruel blow: "He feels sorry for you... A man needs a woman who can give him a family. He needs a woman who is soft, not one who is... capable." The profound betrayal was a punch to the gut, erasing a decade of loyalty and self-sacrifice. My heart didn't break; it turned to ash. All my years shielding his insecurities had been for a man who saw me as merely "capable," not a woman worthy of love or a family. But from that ash, something sharp and cold ignited. Revenge. I wasn't just leaving him. I was going to dismantle every empire he built on my back. The war had just begun.