Modern Books for Women
Bestsellers Ongoing Completed
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Prison For Love, Drowning In Deceit
I served five years in prison for my fiancé, Austin, to save the company we built together. The day I got out, I found him on a yacht, marrying a woman who looked exactly like me. He told me the position of Mrs. Alexander was still mine, but when his new bride, Eva, dragged us both into the ocean, he swam right past me to save her, leaving me to drown. He brought me to his home only to force me to serve the woman who stole my life. When she deliberately scalded my arm with hot porridge, he screamed at me. "You're an animal!" He was destroying me for a woman and a child he believed were his future. The ultimate betrayal. But then I found his medical report. Austin was sterile. The baby wasn't his./0/81413/coverorgin.jpg?v=041e3ef10ece7ed65cbbb9d3cb672479&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Too Late, Vicky: You Can't Buy Me Now
My world was a gilded cage, ruled by the opulent cruelty of Vicky Sterling and her sadistic boyfriend, Chad. I was their personal punching bag, their all-hours errand boy, enduring midnight downpours and "accidental" broken bones. Every insult, every wound, was a grim bargain to secure my sister, Lily' s, critical medical treatments. The day Lily' s final, life-saving payment cleared, a profound calm settled over me. My agonizing mission was complete. But my escape wasn't clean. At a lavish party, a humiliating video of my lowest point was intentionally broadcast. Then, in a final, brutal act, Chad lunged, plunging a letter opener into my side, and Vicky, my supposed keeper, chose his transparent lie over my bleeding truth. Abandoned and bleeding, my vision fading, I watched Vicky dote on Chad' s feigned injury, leaving me to crawl away like forgotten trash. She sped off to urgent care with him, oblivious to the security footage that had captured the entire, ugly reality of his attack and her blind betrayal. It was the ultimate humiliation. Yet, as I pulled the blade free and hobbled towards freedom, shame dissolved into searing clarity. No more silent endurance, no more desperate hope. My purpose was truly fulfilled. How had I ever tolerated such monstrous treatment, and what would it take for her to truly see? Hours later, as her private jet waited to drag me back, I faced her. With Lily safe, I didn't just leave; I ripped open her flawless facade, exposing the years of abuse and her hollow attempts to buy me back. I was done being her plaything - and this time, I wouldn't just walk away; I' d make sure she knew why./0/83916/coverorgin.jpg?v=a4f32fb673272747961f041cee5c56a3&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Reborn in Fire: A Second Chance at Vengeance
My alarm shrieked, a familiar sound that usually meant chaos and camaraderie with my fiancé, Anthony, at Station 51. But this time, it was a second chance. In my previous life, a new probie, Sabrina Chavez, claimed to have chilling premonitions. I scoffed at her "bad feelings" during a warehouse fire, only to witness a section of the roof collapse exactly where she'd warned. My captain, usually level-headed, and even Anthony, my partner in everything, started believing her. Then came the day I was benched, branded a jinx by Sabrina' s latest "prophecy." During a hazmat spill, my team-my family-froze, watching, as chemicals ate through my skin. Anthony, the man I loved, stood there, paralyzed by Sabrina's terrified gaze, as I screamed for help. I died alone, betrayed, in a hospital room, not understanding how fear could turn my own crew into murderers. What secret did Sabrina hold that stripped away their courage, turning them into cold, superstitious strangers who let me burn? But now, I' m back. The alarm is screaming again, the call is the same, and Sabrina is about to make her first prediction. This time, I' m not just fighting fires; I' m fighting for my life, and I' m taking down everyone who betrayed me./0/86419/coverorgin.jpg?v=d739a8dd29a97ebbdc066bcea7ebca1e&imageMogr2/format/webp)
His Betrayal, My Unmaking, Her Crime
The sterile scent of my forensic lab usually brought me comfort, an oasis where I rebuilt lives from bone. Tonight, it felt like a heavy shroud. As a forensic artist, I was nearing completion on Case 734-a "Jane Doe" skull-when her face, slowly emerging from the clay, tightened my stomach with sickening recognition. It was Eleanor Blackwood, my fiancé Ryan' s mother, vanished two years ago. I reached for my phone, hand trembling, to tell him the impossible truth: I' d found his missing mother' s remains. Before I could dial, the lab door creaked open, revealing two ski-masked figures; a primal fear choked me. A foul-smelling cloth descended, and the world went black. I woke to searing pain, the stench of blood, and pulsing music. My face a swollen mess, I was dragged to a brightly lit stage-a boxing ring built for a depraved spectacle. Then I saw him, leaning against the ropes: Ryan, my fiancé, laughing, his arm wrapped around Chloe Davis' s waist, kissing her. He swept his eyes over the stage, over me, without a flicker of recognition. To him, I was just "entertainment." "She' s a forensic artist! Think she can reconstruct her own face after tonight?" someone yelled, their words twisting my life' s purpose into a grotesque joke. He drunkenly slurred about needing to "blow off steam" before our wedding, then, goaded by Chloe, bought me for ten thousand dollars, his eyes filled with hatred for the "toy" who dared to "disrespect" him. He paid to destroy the woman carrying his child. And he was proud of it./0/81257/coverorgin.jpg?v=dc07369591fd443fbd3b8211dedf175e&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Mother's Second Chance
I was a devoted mother, my world revolving around my precious baby girl, Lily. All I wanted was to keep her safe, to give her the best life possible, despite living under my in-laws' roof. But my mother-in-law, Karen, was a monster of penny-pinching cruelty. Her idiotic refusal to pay for proper medical care for Lily's jaundice, choosing a blazing hot lamp instead, was just the beginning. Then came her ultimate act of malice: swapping Lily's vital probiotic with her lethal pesticide, Bora-Kill. My baby, my sweet Lily, died a horrific, agonizing death. My husband, Mike, blamed me, calling it an accident, while his father, Frank, backed them both up. Consumed by a rage so pure it burned, I ended it all, taking them with me in a fiery gas explosion. The last thing I remembered was the sweet, cloying scent of gas, and a chilling satisfaction. Then I opened my eyes, not to death, but to the familiar, dingy floral wallpaper of Karen' s living room. Disbelief warred with a crushing wave of horror: I was alive, somehow, back in the very moment the nightmare began. And I heard it again – the piercing cry of my baby. This time, there would be no mistake. No more weeping for a broken life. I had the foresight, the memory of every single treacherous move they would make. My grief now fueled an unstoppable resolve: I would protect my Lily, and I would make every single one of them pay./0/82665/coverorgin.jpg?v=1402ae44c0524538430a9019578667b0&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Betrayed Fiancée's Triumph
My brother David's St. Florian's medallion, a cool silver comfort against my palm, was my anchor, a constant reminder of the hero I'd lost three years ago in the city blaze. His best friend, Mark, became my fiancé, a bond everyone insisted David would have blessed, yet his growing neglect felt like a deepening shadow. On David's death anniversary, Mark, unapologetically distant, sent his brazen new girlfriend, Jessica, not just to fetch keys, but to gloat, turning Mark's dismissive neglect of my pain into a sneer about my "sensitivity." The humiliation deepened when Jessica 'accidentally' destroyed David's cherished firefighter helmet and a precious childhood figurine, Mark instantly defending her, dismissing my brother's legacy as "just an old thing" while showering Jessica with affection. He then brazenly paraded his affair, actively portraying me to others as "difficult" and claiming my heartbreak was a "small price to pay" for his newfound happiness with Jessica. How could the man who promised to honor David' s memory, David' s own best friend, allow such desecration, gaslighting my grief and trampling on sacred bonds with such callous disregard? The white-hot rage, a purifying fire, ignited an unwavering resolve; David's medallion, once a symbol of loss, became the silent marker of my audacious, meticulously planned escape. They had no idea the heartbroken woman they casually broke was about to orchestrate their spectacular public unraveling, cementing her own dramatic rebirth into freedom./1/101594/coverorgin.jpg?v=c1743c0940bfe706708c81dc8e1a1125&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Empress Who Buries Her Past
I sacrificed my womb and my youth to build Alec' s architectural empire from the shadows. He repaid me by bringing his mistress, Billie, to frame me for plagiarism and destroy my reputation. When my father suffered a massive heart attack, Billie used her influence to block his life-saving surgery. Alec held my dying father' s life hostage, forcing me to my knees in front of the woman who ruined me. "Apologize to her, Cydney," he commanded, "or I pull the plug." I begged. I scraped my dignity off the floor. But they let my father die anyway. Discarded and humiliated, I vanished in a plane crash, leaving only a wedding ring in a landfill. Years later, at a global summit, Alec watched his company crumble under the attacks of a ruthless new rival. He grabbed the woman in the emerald dress, his hands trembling as he recognized the eyes he thought were gone forever. "Cydney? You're alive?" I smiled, cold as ice. "Ms. Frazier is dead, Alec. I' m the one who' s going to bury you."/1/104097/coverorgin.jpg?v=44792361b8bb547b70131d3f4ab9791b&imageMogr2/format/webp)
A Billionaire Heiress From The Ashes
My husband, Deegan, plunged a needle into my heavily pregnant belly. He said it was a mild sedative to "slow things down." The truth was a brutal betrayal. His brother's widow, Karmen, was also due, and her son had to be born first to secure the family inheritance. He was sacrificing our child for money. He locked me in a panic room, leaving me to suffer through agonizing contractions alone. His sister found me, not to help, but to kick me and let her venomous snake sink its fangs into my arm. As I lay bleeding out, my baby dying inside me, he had all the life-saving medical equipment moved to Karmen's private clinic, leaving me with nothing. He called me a manipulative actress, a gold-digger trying to steal the inheritance. The man who swore to protect me left me to die on a cold floor, choosing a birthright over his own child. But I didn't die. My billionaire father saved me, and I was reborn from the ashes of my grief. Years later, when Deegan stormed into my boardroom, convinced he could drag his "dead" wife home, I looked at the pathetic man he'd become. I slowly pulled the wedding ring from my finger and let it fall to the floor. "The woman who loved you died that night."/1/101907/coverorgin.jpg?v=0ba0124054b8f67e93aca760bce85698&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Rooftop Edge, A New Life Began
The doctor finally gave me the green light to conceive, and I floated home to tell my husband, Clay. We toasted to our future children, Charis and Donny, names he swore were unique and special. Later that night, I unlocked his iPad and realized those names weren't unique-they were a sick tribute to his mistress, Charity Odonnell. When I confronted him, the "perfect husband" mask shattered. He didn't apologize. Instead, he and his mother slapped me across the face, claiming my "mental instability" had returned, while my own parents begged me not to ruin his reputation. Then came the video from Charity, laughing as she told me to "do everyone a favor and die." Broken and cornered, I stood on the edge of the hospital roof that night. I called Clay, told him to look up, and watched his face crumble in terror as I let go. But I wasn't trying to kill myself. I was aiming for the large oak tree below, calculating the perfect fall to destroy his life and secure my freedom./1/104410/coverorgin.jpg?v=22417976ea095ba641f3d43c89936c98&imageMogr2/format/webp)
His Ordinary Girl Found Everything
After ten years with my boyfriend, Brenton, I overheard him call me "ordinary" on my 28th birthday. He told his friend he'd regret marrying me because my middle-class background wasn't good enough for his wealthy family. The next day, he kicked me out of our home. His mother then paid me to cater a party, serving the very woman she' d always wanted for her son. Ten years of my life, erased. I was disposable, a placeholder they no longer needed. That night, heartbroken and homeless, I did something crazy. I opened a dating app, found a quiet, dependable Marine from high school, and sent him a message. His profile said: "Looking for a serious partner for marriage and family. No games." So I typed out the words that would change my life. "This might sound crazy, but if you're serious about getting married... would you consider marrying me?"/0/81101/coverorgin.jpg?v=6945bc10ff63c10247c2db83dcfd1dc3&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Sizzle Brighter Than Ever
My food truck, "Sarah's Sizzle Stop," wasn't just a business; it was my life's work, providing for me and constantly bailing out my unemployed brother Kevin, his demanding fiancée Brittany, and our enabling mother Carol. When I needed special chilies for a big Austin food festival, I simply asked Kevin, assuming he could help given his ample free time. Instead, Brittany unleashed a torrent of venomous texts, branding me a "lonely workaholic" and a "bougie bitch" for asking a simple favor, followed by Kevin's outrageous demand for a luxury handbag and a public apology on my business social media-or else he'd call off my financially supported wedding. My refusal prompted their horrifying retaliation: I found "Sarah's Sizzle Stop" desecrated, tires slashed, windows smashed, and hateful obscenities spray-painted across its every panel. When I confronted them, Kevin, Brittany, and my mother shamelessly demanded $10,000 for Brittany's "emotional distress," threatening worse. They then launched a vicious online smear campaign, using tearful videos and a "pity party" GoFundMe to portray me as a heartless monster abandoning my "sick" mother and "struggling" brother, effectively turning public opinion and damaging my reputation. Even after this financial ruin and public humiliation, our mother still begged me to drop it all, prioritizing Kevin's "happiness" over my destroyed livelihood. Years of their greed, entitlement, and emotional blackmail culminated in this calculated act of destruction, igniting a cold, righteous fury within me. They truly believed they could destroy my life and still control me through manufactured victimhood and public shaming. But the moment Kevin lunged at me, and I instinctively defended myself with a pan, I snapped-the time for being their victim was finally over. I called the police, filing full charges for vandalism and assault, and then immediately told my stunned mother I was selling the house I owned and cutting off every cent of financial support. This wasn't just family drama; this was my declaration of freedom, and I would fight to ensure the world knew the brutal, liberating truth./1/101751/coverorgin.jpg?v=6f1febdf974f621b2b5d8da59c35427c&imageMogr2/format/webp)
My Ex-husband Went to Jail After we Divorced
Nicolas Shaw became the chairman of a publicly listed company. On that very day, he proposed a divorce. In an interview, Nicolas credited all his current achievements to the unwavering support of his beloved, who stood by him all the time. However, his beloved wasn't me but his colleague, Gillian Ford. She was suffering from a terminal illness. To treat Gillian, Nicolas spared no expense to hire a reclusive surgeon to lead the procedure. But he didn't realize that the medical genius he desperately sought was me. He thought he had secured the support of the Ford Pharmaceutical Group, but a month later, I appeared on stage as a special consultant for the Ford Pharmaceutical Group to be interviewed. A reporter asked me, "Dr. Sini, it's said that you've been out of the medical field for years. May I ask what prompted your return to the medical team?" I glanced at Nicolas, who looked utterly shocked. I replied, "My husband paid a lot of money for me to perform surgery on his lover."/1/102690/coverorgin.jpg?v=8c69b56ed7cedb1754d2b0b85832703a&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Caught In His Web of Manipulation
My genius boyfriend, Colten, was my savior. I was the "slow" girl he single-handedly tutored into NYU. He built my entire academic future, and I thought our love story was a fairytale. But after I found another woman's birth control pills in his bag and caught him in lie after lie with his lab partner, Addisyn, I finally left him. The price was brutal: I failed every class and faced expulsion. Desperate to save myself, I went back. I played the part of his sweet, obedient girlfriend, using his tutoring to ace my retake exams while secretly planning my escape to a new program. The day my transfer was approved, he ambushed me with a public proposal. In front of a cheering crowd, he got on one knee with a diamond ring, ready to trap me in his perfect life forever. "Will you marry me?" he asked, his voice full of triumph. But before I could answer, a different woman stepped forward. It was Addisyn, and her hand was resting on her pregnant belly./0/38238/coverorgin.jpg?v=cc8662f9e0fb5b4190de0b2817fd2afc&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Her Hidden Identities
Eliza Greer was abandoned by her mother, raised in an orphanage, and sold to the Burns family at 19. Even though she marries Mason Burns, the other people in the Burns family look down on her for her poor identity and want to try every way to bully her. Unexpectedly, they all failed. Eliza's hidden identities are gradually revealed in one incident after another, which astonishes everyone./1/100500/coverorgin.jpg?v=cc824884628637abc55bf835626024e2&imageMogr2/format/webp)
A Healer's Second Chance At Life
My husband told me his true love, Francesca, was dying. As a master healer, I was the only one who could save her. For months, he drained my life force in daily rituals, leaving me a hollow shell of myself. Then he demanded the ultimate sacrifice: a forbidden ceremony that would transfer my entire life force to her. It was a death sentence. "It means Francesca lives," he said, his eyes empty of the love he once had for me. He shattered the wooden bird he carved for our anniversary, forced me to sign divorce papers, and promised to remarry me after I died for his fantasy. Finally, he tied me to an altar and set it on fire. As I burned, my four-year-old daughter screamed the truth-that Francesca was faking her illness. But Kane pushed her away, choosing his lie over our lives. He watched me die. But when I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day he first told me Francesca was sick. This time, the only life I'll be saving is my own./1/101908/coverorgin.jpg?v=1b0bba697f5ce6bed9d384b2972ff37f&imageMogr2/format/webp)
My True North After Their Deceit
I spent four years and my life savings funding my boyfriend's law degree across the country. I thought we were building a future. But when I flew to California to surprise him with a proposal at his graduation, I found him on one knee. Not for me, but for Janessa-my best friend since childhood. I collapsed on the spot. When I woke up in the hospital, the nightmare only got worse. The nurse innocently crushed me: "It' s good you' re awake. Eric was so worried, just like when their dog got sick. They' ve been such a sweet couple living together these past two years." My blood ran cold. Then his mother called his phone, asking if he had finally dumped his "ATM machine" to marry the girl the family actually approved of. Every bill I paid, every "emergency" transfer, had funded their secret life. Janessa was even wearing the dress I bought her while accepting the ring I paid for. They walked into my hospital room, ready to gaslight me one last time. But I wasn't the naive girl anymore. I wiped my tears, unlocked the evidence on his phone, and prepared to burn their perfect little world to the ground./1/103316/coverorgin.jpg?v=81b643aae88a4508283f56956f0b0dae&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Ordered To Serve His Mistress: Heiress's Revenge
My fiancé sent me a text ordering me to serve his mistress, unaware that the waitress holding the tray was actually the daughter of the man who owned his soul. I was working undercover at his club, playing the role of a poor nobody to test his character before our wedding. But tonight, the test ended in disaster. His mistress, Jaden, walked in and treated me like dirt. When I brought her drink, she slapped the tray, spilling scalding coffee all over my hand. The pain was white-hot. My skin blistered instantly, peeling away in angry red patches. I showed Connor the injury on a video call, expecting protection. Expecting him to be a man. Instead, he looked at my burned hand and then at his investors. Panic filled his eyes. "Fix it, Blake," he roared. "Apologize to her." "She burned me," I said quietly. "I don't care! Kneel if you have to. Kiss her ring. Just make her happy so I can finish this deal!" He told the Principessa of the Shaw crime family to kneel to a woman who meant nothing. He sacrificed his future wife to save face. Something inside me snapped. It wasn't my heart; it was the leash I had placed on myself. "Okay," I whispered. I hung up the phone and dropped it into a pot of boiling pasta water. Then I turned to the Executive Chef, a former hitman who recognized the lethal shift in my eyes. "Lock the doors," I ordered. "And tell my father I'm ready to burn this place to the ground."/1/110825/coverorgin.jpg?v=74ac6ca408a28c700522af1798a9305d&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Belated Confession from a Disqualified Father
My six-year-old twins, Liam and Lily, begged to go to Disneyland. But my husband, Julian Vance, planned to take his mistress to a prenatal clinic. Annoyed by the twins' crying and deeming them "too delicate and spoiled," Julian drove them out to the Mojave Desert, demanding they learn how to survive on their own. I couldn't even fathom it. I begged him desperately. "Julian, please! Give me the coordinates! Tell me where my babies are!" "They're only six! They'll die out there! I promise I'll discipline them. I'll never let them bother you again. Please, just let me go get them back!" The only answer I got was the sound of him having sex with his mistress. By the time Julian found out the truth, it was already too late. He knelt before me, crying and pleading for forgiveness, but my children were no longer around to forgive him. And I could never forgive him on their behalf./0/85013/coverorgin.jpg?v=1822cfe4652b3512a2ae16b18e50d035&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Her Cruelty, His Quiet Fury
The scent of charcoal and happy laughter perfectly painted our Saturday afternoon, a beacon of the quiet life I' d built for my daughter, Lily, after everything we' d been through. Suddenly, a black sports car screeched into our driveway, and my wife' s brother, Leo, stormed into our backyard, followed by two thuggish friends. He sneered, mocking my life, calling me a "freeloader" and a "parasite," even striking me. My wife, Sarah, appeared, but instead of defending our terrified Lily, she sided with her brother, calling me a "failure" and demanding I leave. Lily, hyperventilating from fear, whimpered, "Mommy... please... make them stop," but Sarah dismissed it, her eyes fixed on Leo. How could the woman I' d sacrificed everything for, the mother of my child, choose this violence, this betrayal, this cruelty? In that shattering moment, as Sarah chose her vile brother over our trembling daughter, I knew I had to unleash the man I' d buried for ten years./0/83918/coverorgin.jpg?v=606372e831feb93d4faa1bc5c6764a8d&imageMogr2/format/webp)
