415 Book(s) Related to billionaire

I used to believe marriage was love's happy ending, only to realize it was the gateway to my personal hell. Staring into the mirror, my hundred-thousand-dollar wedding dress wrapped around me like golden chains, binding me tight, while my father's tears silently screamed of the doom I couldn't outrun. "This is bigger than us," he choked out, his voice trembling, each syllable slicing into my heart like a knife.

When my groom flung my ring aside mid-ceremony to chase after that "fragile-hearted" Isabella, the truth crashed over me: I was nothing but a pawn in this cold political game. For three years, I've wandered the echoing, icy halls of Blackstone mansion like a forgotten ghost, unseen and utterly alone.

"Am I really not enough?" I whisper to myself in the suffocating silence of midnight. As Ethan and Isabella parade their twisted little affair right under my nose, and those society vultures murmur their venomous taunts in my ear, what storms of pain and fury rage beneath my plastered-on smile?

But destiny's shifting gears. A cryptic note slips into my hand, a smooth phrase in Arabic unlocks hidden doors, and an impulsive flight to the Middle East changes everything—the world is about to meet the fierce, unbreakable woman I've become.

$20,000 a month - that was our deal to make me his contract girlfriend.
Everything changed when he sent me to care for the woman carrying his child...
Standing heartbroken in that hospital with baby gifts in hand, I discovered a truth that shattered my world.
I thought I could play this game that started with money, but I'm losing badly - because somehow, I've really fallen for my boss.

I faked amnesia to fool him. He turned around and claimed to be my boyfriend. I moved into his place to dig up dirt, only to find his secret notebook filled with everything about me. I thought it was a secret crush, until I discovered it was tied to a grudge between our fathers. Right after we confessed everything with a kiss, an "accident" made him forget me for real. Now, it's my turn to make him fall for me again. Howard, this time, you're not getting away.

My name is Claire Bennett, and at twenty-nine, I finally said "no" to that midnight call.

Twenty years. From pudding cups in an orphanage to a lakefront mansion in Seattle, I spent two decades proving I was "useful"—until a woman in La Perla lingerie told me to fetch her coat. Like a servant.

"Without me, what can you even do?" Ethan asked, standing among broken wine glasses.

I didn't know the answer. But I left anyway.

First day back at that run-down Evergreen orphanage, I met Luca. He looked at me like I was the plague—"This isn't a resort for rich people to do guilt therapy."

I fucking hated this man.

Until that rainy night at the dive bar, under those dim lights, when I heard him singing: "I built these walls so high... then you walked in with your broken smile, and suddenly I'm terrified..."

Then he swung his guitar at the men trying to hurt me.

In the rain, in that shabby motel, he said: "The first day I saw you, I knew I was in trouble."

But the story wasn't over. Because three months later, a plain rental sedan pulled up to the orphanage...

Who would have guessed that the werewolf janitor who picked up my takeout boxes and dirty laundry was actually the missing Blackwood Alpha heir with an eight-figure bounty on his head? He'd brew me coffee with hints of citrus, fold my wrinkled t-shirts with military precision, and the heart-shaped white spot on the tip of his tail would secretly brush against my wrist.

Then one morning, he vanished without even leaving a note. On TV, he stood in a bespoke suit, his eyes cold enough to freeze your soul, declaring "Wolves never forget to seek revenge."

Until he found me again, clutching that nearly dead potted lupine, saying he wanted "to be your janitor for life." Should I ask why he pretended not to know me back then, or should I first lose myself in this ridiculously dramatic yet heart-melting embrace?

I married a billionaire for a contract. Three years, five million dollars, zero feelings required.

He made me breakfast every morning but never said it was for me. He held me through my grandfather's death, then went back to calling me "Mrs. Sterling" like a stranger. For three years, I told myself this was fine. That I could leave when the contract expired.

Then his mother showed up with a check. His ex-girlfriend appeared at the charity gala. And he asked if I wanted to "extend our arrangement."

Arrangement. Not marriage. Not us. Arrangement.

I packed my bags that night.

What I didn't know? Alexander Sterling had been keeping secrets too.

Three years. I thought that would be enough.

Enough to forget the man who never said he loved me. Enough to rebuild my life in this quiet coastal town. Enough to protect my secret, my daughter Rosie.

But when Adrian Smith appeared at the town's flower market, looking at me with those same gray-blue eyes Rosie inherited, I knew it was over.

I thought ten years of childhood sweethearts could weather any storm.

Until that night when Charles rushed out after her call, leaving me alone in bed with his child growing inside me, not knowing how to tell him.

Seraphina Blackwood, tech dynasty heiress, threatened Charles with her father's billion-dollar empire to marry her. And me? Just an orphan girl who seemed to mean nothing in Silicon Valley's power games.

When I watched him remove our wedding ring, when I saw their sweet photos at the hospital, when I lay bleeding on the floor and he chose her... I finally understood that maybe love really can't survive against money.

But what I didn't know was that while I started my new life in Switzerland, there was a man secretly protecting me with his kidney, his heart, his everything...

Until his assistant appeared at my little bakery, desperation in his eyes: "Ms. Thorne, please, you have to save him!"

Seven months pregnant and finally happy, I thought my past was buried. Then I walked into that upscale baby boutique and saw him—Donovan Ashworth, the billionaire who kept me as his secret for ten years. Standing beside him was Charlotte, his picture-perfect fiancée, flashing a diamond that could buy my house.
But Charlotte had her own agenda. A fake pregnancy. A desperate plan. And when she demanded a DNA test claiming my baby might be Don's, I knew this wasn't coincidence—it was sabotage.
What I didn't expect was the results. What I didn't expect was Don showing up at my door with an engagement ring, begging me to leave my husband. What I didn't expect was having to choose between the man who gave me everything except respect, and the one who gave me something more precious than money.
Some mistakes can't be undone. Some chances come too late. And sometimes, the best revenge is simply being happy.

Five years ago, I knelt on marble floors, cleaning wine with my own dress while they laughed.

Five years later, they knelt before me, begging for forgiveness while I walked away.

They thought three hundred thousand dollars could buy my soul. They thought I was just another disposable substitute, another broken girl desperate enough to sell her dignity for her dying mother's medical bills.

Caspian Ashford wanted a replacement for his precious Scarlett. The Hampton elite wanted a servant to humiliate. They all wanted me to disappear quietly when they were done with me.

They got their wish—I did disappear.

But the girl who drowned in that yacht "accident" five years ago? She was weak, desperate, powerless.

The woman who returned as Elena Whitman?

I'm their worst fucking nightmare.

I supported my "broke boyfriend" for five years, only to discover he's actually a Wall Street billionaire!

That day at the elite club, I overheard him talking with his friends:

"How long have you been playing poor?"

"Almost five years. Time to wrap it up."

"That girl still funding you?"

"Just bought me pants yesterday. Levi's—she saved for a whole month."

Then they all burst out laughing!

For five years I sent him over $30,000, thinking I was helping my hardworking boyfriend. Turns out I was just his "sociology research subject"! Even worse—this bastard has a rich heiress fiancée!

When he begged for forgiveness on his knees, I only had one thing to say:

"Game over. Get the fuck out."

I'm the Santos family heiress—born into the kind of wealth and power that people kill for. For eighteen years, I've adored my "brother" Diego with all my heart—that golden, gorgeous surfing champion who's the pride of our family.

Then came that shark attack. A mysterious lifeguard nearly died saving us. When that DNA report landed on my desk, my world shattered completely: this beaten-up kid Lucas from the slums—he's my real blood brother!

And Diego? The boy I've cherished like family for eighteen years? Not one drop of Santos blood in his veins.

Blood or bond—who do I choose?

Six years ago, I left him to protect him, letting him believe I betrayed him for money.

Six years later, when I thought I could quietly slip back into New York, I discovered I'd already fallen into the web he'd carefully woven around me—my job, my apartment, even my mother's medical bills, everything was under his control.

"Welcome home, Irene. This time, you're not going anywhere."

Ronald Ashworth was no longer the college boy who'd drop to his knees begging me to stay. He'd become a Wall Street finance mogul who could control everything, an obsessive man willing to fight the entire world to keep me.

He said he'd give me freedom, but I'd never escape his reach.
He said he'd cage me in silk and worship me like a queen.

On my wedding night, my husband Tyler pushed me onto the poker table as his final bet.

"She's just a retard anyway—perfect for getting rid of a problem," he sneered.

That moment, I thought my life was completely over.

Until the man in the delivery uniform won me, gently called me "princess," and filled his tiny apartment with pink dresses just for me.

I thought I'd found a kind, poor guy.

I thought this was the only warmth in my pathetic life.

Until that day at the TED conference, when five hundred million viewers watched him walk onto the stage, and the big screen displayed "Phantom AI Founder, Net Worth: $52 Billion"...

Tyler was on his knees, sobbing: "Please spare our family..."

And my "delivery boy" stroked my hair, saying: "Emma, I built this empire to be worthy of you someday."

I thought I had married the love of my life, until I discovered he planned to use my womb as a sacrifice for his mistress.

For five years, I gave Dax everything—my brilliance, my body, my soul. I believed we were building a future together, trying for the baby that would complete our Silicon Valley fairy tale.

Then I overheard the conspiracy that shattered my world: defective embryos implanted in my body, followed by a hysterectomy disguised as "medical complications." All to clear the path for Ada and their "perfect heir."

In that moment, I realized I had never been his wife—I was just a disposable vessel.

But they made one fatal mistake: they underestimated the fury of a betrayed woman with an MIT degree and nothing left to lose.

Love had made me blind, but betrayal made me brilliant.