Modern Books for Women
Bestsellers Ongoing Completed
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The Framed Wife's Reckoning
The acrid smell of burning plastic dragged me awake, a familiar chaos brewing in my own home. My monster-in-law, Carol, was mid-TikTok dance in the kitchen, casually setting fire to a kettle, already spewing her usual blame. But my heart hammered for an entirely different reason. Just moments ago, I was in a prison cell, rotting, after she and my spineless husband, Matthew, framed me for a crime I didn' t commit. I spent years paying for their lies, my body broken, my life ruined, watching as Matthew chose his toxic mother over me every single time. Every petty accusation, every malicious lie, he was always her loyal soldier, ready to throw me under the bus. How could one woman's viciousness, enabled by her own son, shatter an entire life? How could he stand by and watch me lose everything, all for his 'sainted' mother? Then, I jolted awake, not in a dingy prison, but in my bed, years of torment erased. This wasn't my first life anymore. This time, I' m not just the victim, I' m the architect of their downfall. And my revenge has just begun./1/101380/coverorgin.jpg?v=9c319ee0bfb09a7d09cb57b5124b5e25&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Seven Years His Hidden Heartbreak
For seven years, I was the secret wife and ghostwriter for the famous author Holden Gillespie. I built his literary empire with my words, all while our marriage and our son, Leo, were kept hidden to protect his "single genius" image. Then he began a public affair with his new publicist, Kassidy. When I finally quit, he tried to kick me and our son out of our home to make room for her. The breaking point came on Leo's birthday. Holden showed up with a cake to "make things right." It was mango chiffon. He had forgotten-or never cared to know-that our son has a life-threatening allergy to mangoes. He almost killed his own child out of sheer, selfish negligence. In that moment, I knew it was over. I took our son, disappeared, and filed for divorce, cutting off all contact. But now, months later, he' s standing outside my new home in Santa Fe, looking desperate. "I'm not agreeing to this divorce," he says, his voice raw. "I never will."/0/82562/coverorgin.jpg?v=95e756ee3f220df3636080b7c02db1fa&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Chem 101: Blind Justice
I was Ethan, a PhD candidate, proctoring the Chem 101 final, my future in chemistry looking bright. Then, without warning, the exam sheet blurred, students' faces dissolved, and my vision vanished into impenetrable darkness. My world went black, doctors found no cause, and my promising academic career evaporated into years of navigating a sightless existence, a struggle that culminated in my murder at a community fair, just moments after I shockingly overheard an arrogant student, Mark Jensen, boast that my inexplicable blindness was the best thing that ever happened to him. To die senselessly, just as I' d found the answer to why my life was stolen, was an unbearable injustice. But then, I blinked, and the fluorescent lights of the Chem 101 exam room flashed above me once more, the clock ticking down to the very moment my world first went dark./0/84509/coverorgin.jpg?v=145a08b688b28e4e33641e9e9dd35fce&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Lost Memories, Found Truths
The rain lashed against the window, mirroring the fresh bruises blooming on my skin. I lay on the cold bathroom tile, my breath a shallow, ragged gasp; another "accident" Mark would explain away. He stood over me, bored and callous, reminding me our son would be late for dinner-as if I chose to be broken on the floor. My sister, Chloe, bright and oblivious, called from the front door, offering ice cream, a lifeline I couldn't grasp. "Ava's not feeling well," Mark lied, his voice dripping with fake concern for her ears, sealing me away. My last chance gone, a profound cold enveloped me, deeper than the tile, as my life ebbed away, thinking of Leo who' d never see his mother again. Then, the pain vanished, replaced by an eerie lightness; I was standing, looking down at my own lifeless body. I watched, a silent phantom, as Mark called someone, casually planning to claim double indemnity on my life insurance, describing my death as a convenient "fall." He felt no grief, only calculation. The next morning, he made Leo dinosaur pancakes, telling him Mommy was "very tired," twisting my absence into abandonment. Later, I saw him systematically erase me-tossing my treasured memories, even ripping apart the novel my grandmother gave me, a symbolic execution of my very existence. He wasn't just disposing of my things; he was annihilating any proof of who I was. I floated there, a ghost of a life brutally taken, haunted by the chilling clarity of his calculated cruelty. I had to find a way to make him pay./1/111114/coverorgin.jpg?v=f0bee29d0cdd7ea0f2b6a47e8fece257&imageMogr2/format/webp)
His Betrayal, My Reborn Heart
In my previous life, I poured my family's savings into Diego Torres. He was a scholarship student I mistook for a tech prodigy, and I helped him become a billionaire. His way of thanking me was conspiring with his first love, Kiana, to kill me in an explosion. My mistake cost me everything. But when I opened my eyes again, I found myself back in the campus cafe, years before my murder. There was still time to fix every mistake. Diego sat across from me, demanding a thirty-thousand-dollar monthly allowance for Kiana, or else he would refuse my funding. In that instant, I knew he had been reborn too./1/101705/coverorgin.jpg?v=d26c750e99f60f501c5a9611950dce3c&imageMogr2/format/webp)
From Prison to His Perfect Regret
I sacrificed five years of my freedom to save my husband' s billion-dollar empire. I walked out of prison expecting gratitude, but instead, I found his assistant wearing my life like a second skin. And when his company faced a new crisis, he didn't look to me for support-he looked at me as the prime suspect. Jasper thought a luxury suite at The Plaza could erase five years of silence. He claimed he was "protecting" me, while Candice, the woman who orchestrated my fall, blocked my letters and managed his heart. But the moment his laptop was wiped, his mask of devotion crumbled. He accused me of sabotage instantly, blind to the real enemy standing right beside him. I didn't argue. I just walked away. He screamed that I' d be destitute without him, that I was throwing my life away for a "nobody." Instead, I found Cohen, the inmate who had protected me inside when Jasper abandoned me. Months later, Jasper called, sobbing. He' d finally found the security footage proving Candice' s guilt. "I'll wire you ten million dollars," he begged, his voice breaking. "I'll even give Cohen a construction job. Just come home." I looked at Cohen, who was gently painting a crib for our unborn child in our warm, safe home. "Keep your money, Jasper," I said. "We're already taken care of."/1/102354/coverorgin.jpg?v=ce13252dcfc1b78a3ff17a627e35b806&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Billionaire Who Thought I Was Nothing
At twenty-one, Aria Vale believed marriage would give her the family she had always dreamed of. Married to Lucien Blackwood-a wealthy, admired man who promised protection-she sacrificed her dreams, her independence, and her voice. One year later, with a newborn in her arms and no money to her name, Aria is abandoned without warning. Broken, poor, and underestimated, she disappears from his world. Years later, she returns transformed, not as the naïve girl he controlled, but as a powerful woman standing far above him. This time, love is not her weakness. And the billionaire who thought she was nothing will learn what he lost./0/61149/coverorgin.jpg?v=288f0ca617ff2d0e1e018251599cbce8&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Cannibal's Revenge
Here's the translation: "My blind date took me to a restaurant and only ordered one meal. I said I wasn't hungry. He chuckled, 'Then let's not waste it.' He quickly grabbed my noodles and dumplings and added chicken legs and egg rolls for himself. Seeing him eat with grease all over his mouth and his belly round, I was furiously typing on my phone under the table. 'Family, who understands? Today I met a chicken leg guy... I'll bring him home for you to try in a couple of days.'"/0/71207/coverorgin.jpg?v=44f167c4dbf232de977ca6eb49d8299d&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Requiem of A Broken Heart
Rachel used to think that her devotion would win Brian over one day, but she was proven wrong when his true love returned. Rachel had endured it all-from standing alone at the altar to dragging herself to the hospital for an emergency treatment. Everyone thought she was crazy to give up so much of herself for someone who didn't return her feelings. But when Brian received news of Rachel's terminal illness and realized she didn't have long to live, he completely broke down. "I forbid you to die!" Rachel just smiled. She no longer needed him. "I will finally be free."/0/60825/coverorgin.jpg?v=fb57f294d775dd8ab4f14dd5ead00ac9&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Love After Divorce
Stella Richard married Rene Kingston in the place of her sister Sophia due to some reasons. But from the beginning, she knows that her marriage was just a time-limit contract and once the time was up she had to go. For RK, this marriage was just a burden but for her, it was a gift from God. Because RK was the man who she had loved all her Youth... So, in the meantime of her marriage, Stella did her best so that this marriage may work out. But on the day she found she was pregnant, her husband gives her the divorce paper and said... "I don't want this child. Don't forget to abort." These words come out of his mouth, like a bomb for Stella, and changed her life... She signed her name on the divorce paper and left the house... Because she doesn't want to be with such a cold-hearted man... Five years later... RK bought the company In which Stella worked. But Stella did her best not to have anything to do with him... Because she had a child and she didn't want him to find out about him... But one day When Stella picked up her son from school he saw her... RK, "How dare you had a child with another man?" Stella, "I don't think it has anything to do with you." RK was about to say more when his gaze fell on the child beside her... His face looked as same as when he was young.../1/111115/coverorgin.jpg?v=e133b675c946b3bef309a32fdc610954&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Too Late, My Love, You Lost Me
After seven years of dating, Holden said he was bored and found a younger girl. This time, I didn't cry or throw a fit. I simply threw away the ring, shredded my wedding dress, and bought a one-way ticket to Los Angeles. He even bet his friends that I would definitely be back within three days, begging him to take me back. He was wrong. Three days passed, and then another three. I completely vanished from his world. Holden finally couldn't take it anymore and called me: "Ella, stop throwing a tantrum. Come back." But the voice that answered from the other end of the line belonged to a strange man, who let out a low chuckle: "My wife is asleep and can't come to the phone. I need to wake her up with a kiss first."/1/101706/coverorgin.jpg?v=895acc362b7f5efc456b94567187011b&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Frozen Cargo, A Betrayed Wife
My husband made me ride in the freezing cargo hold because his mistress wanted peace and quiet. I died back there, clutching the "vitamins" she gave me, while they laughed in the front seat. It wasn't until my frozen body was found that Atlas realized he had just killed his own wife and unborn child. Ten years ago, I saved Atlas from a car crash that left me with the mind of a child. He hated me for it. He treated me like a burden and let his mistress, Kacie, feed me high-dose abortion pills disguised as health supplements. When the police uncovered the truth, Atlas' s world shattered. He discovered Kacie had never been pregnant-but I was. Consumed by a belated, violent rage, he executed Kacie with his own hands and demanded the death penalty for himself. He thought death would be his redemption. He thought he could find me on the other side and make amends. But when his spirit finally reached out to mine, begging for forgiveness, I didn't feel the love I had yearned for in life. I felt nothing. "Go away, Atlas," I whispered, watching his soul crumble. "I'm finally free."/0/84186/coverorgin.jpg?v=a07508136fbe2e7572da1e5abcd3df29&imageMogr2/format/webp)
He Played Her False: She Played Her Way Out
My Juilliard cello degree was just background noise to the perfect smile I plastered on for my husband, Wesley' s, political fundraisers. For eight years, I was "Mrs. Wesley Lester," a pretty prop, while my priceless 18th-century cello sat in its case, my only sacred space, untouched by him. Then, he grabbed it-not the case, the actual instrument-and shoved it into the arms of Gabrielle, his childhood friend and campaign manager, without a single thought. I watched in horror as her lacquered nails scraped a searing line across its varnish. My husband, the man I sacrificed everything for, didn' t even flinch. He handed my soul to another woman as if it were a coat, then fussed over her while I stood there, burning from his complete dismissal. Later, burned by scalding coffee after he literally carried Gabrielle past my collapse, he still left me there, choosing her comfort over my agony. Then, with my hands bandaged into useless clubs, he demanded I donate my rare blood for Gabrielle, claiming her life was "on the line" for a fabricated public sympathy play. How could he ask this? How could he drain my life force to sustain his pathetic lie? Why was I, his wife, solely a biological resource, while Gabrielle, healthy as ever, lay next to me, sighing dramatically, soaking up his attention? When she intentionally ruined my late mentor' s irreplaceable autographed music, something snapped. And as chaos erupted, with a fire alarm blaring, I saw him choose her again, turning his back on me as I lay fallen on the marble floor. But a strong hand pulled me up-a lifeline. This time, I wouldn't just leave; I would reclaim everything he had tried to bury./0/80293/coverorgin.jpg?v=94cdaa48235aa98103a67cf4bde10a0c&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Son-in-Law Who Stole My Life
After three years of living in California, selflessly caring for my granddaughter so my daughter and son-in-law could work, I was finally home in Oregon. My daughter, Susan, had handed me a $3,000 envelope at the airport, a token of thanks I thought was true appreciation for my sacrifice. But the quiet comfort barely lasted moments. My son-in-law, Kevin, called, his voice dripping with venom. The $3,000 wasn’t a gift, he sneered, but a "gesture" – money he now demanded back for their "emergency fund" and growing expenses. My own daughter, Susan, echoed his plea, asking me to return it "for peace." This was just the beginning. Kevin's audacity spiraled; he demanded I sell *my* home, the one filled with my late husband’s memories, to fund theirs, and later, using my granddaughter as a pawn, coerced me into handing over access to all my bank accounts and property deeds, draining my life savings. How could the very people I’d sacrificed three years of my life for, my own flesh and blood, turn so utterly against me, their greed a bottomless pit that consumed every ounce of decency? But when they staged a public spectacle, trying to paint me as the villain, I knew the time for quiet suffering was over. With hidden security footage and damning audio recordings, I prepared to expose their manipulative, abusive game for the entire world to see./0/80942/coverorgin.jpg?v=21cc5fd6831455c3a555b53f606f8998&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Wife Who Walked Away
For thirty years, I lovingly maintained our family home, a legacy from my parents. Now, in my late fifties, a promise resonated: the Italy trip my husband, David, made me under wedding fireworks. When I finally brought up that cherished dream, he scoffed, "Too old for that." Days later, on his laptop, I saw it: five plane tickets to Rome and Florence. For David, our son Mike, his wife Jessica, our grandson Leo. And my sister, Emily. Not for me. My dream trip, his very promise, was given to everyone else—especially Emily, whom David openly admired. This wasn't an oversight; it was a deliberate, casual cruelty. I drove them to the airport, listening to their excited chatter. At the curb, David publicly humiliated me over a "lost" passport, grabbing my arm. Even after it was found, he didn't apologize. They just rushed to the gate, leaving me alone. No one looked back. The humiliation burned, hotter than anything before. My family, my entire life, simply walked away, discarding me. Thirty years of giving, of being taken for granted, culminated in this brutal moment. This was my reward. I watched them disappear, then turned and walked out of the airport for good. I drove straight to a real estate agent, listing the house—my house, inherited and solely in my name. Then, I booked my own one-way ticket: Paris, France. My flight was in three days, the same day they were due in Rome. My old life was over./1/119876/coverorgin.jpg?v=3fcada586ce92a046a546c0f350bd3c5&imageMogr2/format/webp)
When Time Stopped, Love Was Lost
My husband, Daniel Carter, was obsessive about time. He had to wake up at exactly 7:05, and breakfast had to begin at 7:15 sharp. Even sex was limited to exactly thirty minutes. The second time was up, he pulled away and left. That day, our daughter had a dangerously high fever, yet he still refused to leave. Every second dragged by. I kept urging Daniel to hurry. But he only ate his breakfast at his usual unhurried pace. "My breakfast has to last a full ten minutes. Besides, children build stronger immune systems when they tough it out a little." I touched my daughter's forehead, which was growing hotter by the minute, and urged him to give me the car keys so I could take her myself. Daniel did not even look up. He slowly adjusted his tie and said, "Then I won't make it to the office by 7:50. Wait five more minutes. That's when I'm supposed to leave." Just then, his phone rang. It was his assistant, Emily Morgan. "Mr. Carter, I twisted my ankle. Could you come pick me up?" His expression changed at once. He grabbed the car keys and rushed toward the door. "I have something urgent to deal with. Call a cab yourselves." The next day, he called and asked why we had not gone home yet. I held my daughter's ashes in my arms, numb with grief. "Our daughter can't go home anymore." And neither could we./1/101707/coverorgin.jpg?v=643742439c52a28f150f659c9ca969e4&imageMogr2/format/webp)
My Marriage License, His Public Fall
For five years, I was the secret wife of billionaire Chace Bentley, hiding in the shadows because he swore it was the only way to protect me from his ruthless family. But when his security guards dragged me out of his gala by my hair, breaking my ribs while the crowd jeered at the "delusional stalker," Chace didn't save me. He stood on the balcony, smoking a cigarette, and watched me bleed with cold, dead eyes. I thought I had hit rock bottom in that jail cell, until I found the documents in his safe. A prenuptial agreement with a socialite named Celina. And a trust fund for their future children. When I confronted him, he didn't beg for forgiveness. He laughed. "Everything you own, the clothes on your back, the roof over your head, it's all because of me. My charity." He thought he had broken me. He thought I was just a disposable pawn in his rise to power. But he forgot that I still held the one thing that could destroy him: our original marriage license. On the day of his grand engagement announcement, I didn't hide. I walked onto the stage, took the microphone, and introduced myself to the world. "I'm Gracelyn Weeks, and I'm Chace Bentley's wife."/0/82889/coverorgin.jpg?v=9dffc8650109eebc45b97e46d1b3dc51&imageMogr2/format/webp)
His Toxic Legacy, Her Triumph
I poured my heart and soul into Momentum Marketing, the agency my fiancé Mark and I had built. My loyalty to him ran deep, a bond forged over years. Then, Mark dropped a bomb: he slashed my salary by more than half, citing financial crisis. Days later, his chirpy executive assistant, Chloe, plastered Instagram with her brand-new Tesla, a "surprise bonus!" from the "best boss ever." My accidental "like" on her post triggered his rage. He publicly humiliated me, then docked my entire reduced monthly salary, gifting it to Chloe for "emotional distress." Utterly betrayed, I resigned, only for him to cold-bloodedly refuse severance. But his cruelty wasn't finished. After I left our condo, he lured me back under false pretenses, filming me to construct a malicious lawsuit, accusing me of corporate espionage. My name, my career, everything was smeared, a calculated ruin. They thought they' d finally destroy me in court. Instead, with undeniable evidence, my lawyer exposed their vile conspiracy, including Chloe's fake pregnancy. The truth exploded, leading to Mark's public breakdown and ultimate suicide. His will left me everything, a final, twisted apology. Now, I'm forging a new empire from the ashes, turning his toxic legacy into my own triumph./0/83214/coverorgin.jpg?v=d35430a04ece188277e6d5450c1348a6&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Unwanted Husband's Comeback
Our startup, Veridian Capital, was supposed to be our shared dream-Sarah's and mine. I poured my life, my family's money, everything into it, even as a mysterious, chronic fatigue consumed me. Tonight, at the annual gala, Sarah, now CEO, was radiant. Then, on stage, she didn't just announce a new strategic business partner. Her voice, filled with sickening pride, declared they were expecting a child. With him. My blood ran cold as the room erupted in whispers. She looked at me, the man she' d called her husband, and spat, "This is your fault! Your debilitating negativity! Your lack of vitality!" After I demanded a divorce, her new "partner," a supposed Italian Count, brutally attacked me in our apartment, leaving me broken and bleeding. I lay there, ribs cracked, utterly bewildered. But the true horror hit harder than any fist: My sister, a tough US Attorney, later confirmed that my mysterious illness – the very fatigue Sarah used to justify her betrayal – wasn't natural. It was a slow-acting poison, meticulously administered over two years. By Sarah. The woman I loved, the partner I built everything with, had systematically poisoned me to take my company, my life, and replace me. And now, she was about to learn that Michael Holloway, once discarded and broken, was finally free. And I was coming for everything she held dear./1/101708/coverorgin.jpg?v=a477e4757bca58640dd968163778de3b&imageMogr2/format/webp)
