Modern Books for Women
Bestsellers Ongoing Completed
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I Ranked In The Top Three On The Country's Rich List
One hour after I was diagnosed with a brain tumor, my husband, Ethan Wood, a superstar, publicly cheated with his agent, Lilian Forster. Some media outlets bombarded me with calls and asked if I would pay a hefty sum to buy out the scandalous footage. Watching their intimate figures in the video, I coldly replied, "I won't." I decided to do what I had wanted to do in the remaining days. I divorced, invested, and rebuilt my gallery. I wanted to be my own empress. No one expected that the cheap paintings I casually snapped up would become wildly popular among collectors and that the stocks I bought on a whim would surge overnight. In just a few weeks, my wealth snowballed. I nearly landed among the top three on the rich list in Preayork. As Ethan and Lilian mocked that I had no time to enjoy my wealth, the doctor revealed to me that the supposed brain tumor was, in fact, a misdiagnosis./0/79558/coverorgin.jpg?v=c840453ae8b47b2f0b7e06885d4304e9&imageMogr2/format/webp)
My Husband's Other Woman, My Stolen Life
"Ethan, this is unethical. It's criminal. She hasn't consented." Those chilling words, whispered in the sterile hum of an operating room, were the first thing I heard as consciousness flickered back. My heart pounded, cold dread snaking through my veins. Dr. Ben Carter, Ethan's old friend, was arguing with him. "She's my girlfriend, Ben. Practically my wife," Ethan scoffed, his voice laced with a terrifying casualness. "Chloe needs this kidney. Ava is a perfect match." Kidney. Chloe. My blood ran cold. The beautiful, fragile Chloe Vahn, who had always haunted our relationship, was now taking a piece of me, quite literally. I tried to scream, to move, but my body felt like lead, my throat raw. I felt a sharp tug, a searing line of fire on my side-the scalpel. Ten years of love, of sacrifice, building Ethan Reed and his company back from nothing, all for this. To be carved up like an animal for the woman he truly loved. When I finally regained full awareness, Ethan was by my bedside, a practiced look of concern on his face, spinning a lie about a ruptured ovarian cyst. But then, the overheard nurse's whispered conversation confirmed my nightmare: "Chloe's kidney transplant... he barely left her side." The pieces slammed into place. My despair solidified into a cold, hard resolve. No more. I grabbed my phone, scrolling to one contact I hadn't dared to call. Noah Hayes, Ethan's rival, a man of integrity. My finger trembled as I typed. "Noah," I managed, my voice raspy. "Are you still looking for a COO who knows Reed Innovate's strategies... and perhaps, a wife?" The silence stretched, then his voice, calm and serious, cut through the noise of my crumbling world. "My jet, seven days. LaGuardia."/0/81279/coverorgin.jpg?v=47ea41f0c387825230b34ba4776a5761&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Unseen Betrayal: A Love Murdered
Anya Sharma had it all: a brilliant architecture career and a seemingly perfect marriage to Julian Vance, San Francisco' s beloved "People' s Champion." Everyone adored them, his public devotion legendary, filled with grand, romantic gestures. But Anya quietly confessed the truth: his public devotion was a meticulously crafted lie, a shield for relentless infidelity, revealed by early anonymous emails and late-night whispers. The cracks widened daily, fueled by unfamiliar perfumes and furtive texts, pushing Anya towards a shattering truth about Julian' s affair with Izzy Moreau. Then came the crushing realization during a car crash: in a split second, Julian instinctively protected Izzy and his precious work, forcing pregnant Anya to bear the brutal impact alone, leading to their child' s devastating loss. Anya watched him perform as the grieving husband, oblivious to his continued secret life with Izzy, now secretly pregnant with his child. The public airport proposal to Izzy, where Julian denounced Anya, was a final, humiliating blow. His obsession spiraled into relentless harassment, culminating in Anya's chilling abduction. Trapped in a luxurious prison, Anya was subjected to Julian' s pathological delusion, as he attempted to force her into a twisted family with Izzy's son, falsely claiming the child was theirs through a secret surrogacy. Anya, reeling from the profound injustice and overwhelming sense of betrayal, recognized his true depravity. Desperate and cornered, she made a choice for self-preservation and freedom. With a single, decisive strike, Anya ended Julian's tyranny, shattering his manufactured world and reclaiming her life from a nightmare that had consumed her for too long, paving the way for a genuine future with Ben Carter./0/37946/coverorgin.jpg?v=175cedaeaf8a51782b23e0d1ff8916df&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Numb Wife
Shin Alexandra Ferrell, is a strong independent woman who has been through hell multiple times. Since childhood she already experienced hell, things that a child shouldn't really have experienced in the first place however, she, herself wasn't expecting that there is even worse than what she had already experienced. It was the worst hell for her that made her leave and go on a hiatus for about a year. After a whole of being away from her homeland, the country that she also wanted to forget yet also want to stay in - she came back but there was something different about her - something has changed. And that is something that the people who know her for a long time didn't expect and that change is something that should really be feared because she came back not just to sit back and do nothing - she came back for revenge, she came back to avenge herself from the pain that a single man caused but was she really successful?/0/85816/coverorgin.jpg?v=60854c4bebc4a17d995c1294503c61a2&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Six Years: A Betrayal Reborn
Six years. That' s how long I counted every day they left me to rot, a sacrifice made for the woman I loved. Chloe, my fiancée, the one I fought for and willingly swapped places with when gunmen burst into our engagement vacation villa. I believed her promise: "I'll pay them anything! I'll get you back!" Instead, six years later, I returned to find her a social media mogul, having built an empire on the very "tragic disappearance" she' d orchestrated with my best friend, Mark. They wanted me gone-permanently. Now, thanks to Victoria Thorne, I' m not just back, I' m wealthy, powerful. And she' s given me a choice: justice, Liam. Or retribution. My path is clear./1/103337/coverorgin.jpg?v=3d9fd1c88a02dbe288ffd44118e05707&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Soufflé of Sweet Revenge
I spent seven years sacrificing my own culinary dreams for my boyfriend, Collin. For our fifth anniversary, I baked his favorite soufflé and waited for him to come home to the romantic dinner I' d prepared. He never showed. Instead, a video surfaced online of him at a party with his rival chef, Frankie. He was laughing as he mocked me to a crowd. "Emma's probably at home crying into her pathetic little soufflé," he slurred. The next morning, he tried to apologize with a "make-up gift." It was a cheap silver necklace, an exact copy of one Frankie always wears. He' d forgotten I'm allergic to silver. In seven years, he never even learned that about me. I wasn't his partner; I was just a dress rehearsal for the woman he really wanted. I packed my bags and flew home to Chicago. When Collin texted, demanding to know what "stupid designer bag" I wanted to make things right, I sent my final reply. "I'm engaged. And trust me, he's everything you're not."/0/81123/coverorgin.jpg?v=1fc559abf66a47e3acdbe58b3116fa9c&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Scapegoat Heiress: Havenwood's Reckoning
I clutched the USB drive, halfway to Havenwood's town hall, rehearsing the speech that would expose GlobalCorp's ruthless fracking operation and save our community. Suddenly, the ground bucked violently, an unnatural tremor that tore through the town, confirming my worst fears. Before the dust could even settle, Mrs. Henderson's shriek pierced the din, echoing across the shattered town square: "It's her! Sarah Miller! She did this!" My adoptive father, the Mayor, looked at me with dawning horror, not for my safety, but for his failing reputation, while my brother Ethan's expression solidified into something cold and unrecognizable. Even Mark, my Mark, the boy who'd promised me forever, was already by Veronica Hayes's side, his arm protectively around her, refusing to meet my desperate gaze. They twisted my desperate attempt to force an investigation into GlobalCorp's inherently flawed safety equipment into an act of "eco-terrorism," blaming me for the town's destruction and even framing me for a beloved librarian's tragic death. The angry mob surged, so my own family shoved me towards the outskirts, leaving me no choice but to flee Havenwood, branded its monster, its ungrateful scapegoat. How could they so easily believe I, who had tirelessly tried to protect them, was capable of such malevolent destruction, completely ignoring the crucial proof I held in my hand? For months, I existed in the shadows, a ghost haunted by the bitter taste of betrayal and the crushing agony of a truth no one would hear, my life utterly destroyed. But a reclusive, Pulitzer-winning journalist, Alistair Finch, found me and called a fateful town hall meeting, promising to finally reveal Havenwood's full, devastating truth. Tonight, I, Sarah Miller, the one they cast out and branded a traitor, will finally return, not as a broken fugitive, but ready to expose the real villain and reclaim my story as the defiant heir to the formidable Vance Justice Foundation./0/62507/coverorgin.jpg?v=346695148b3c82203b832588e52eb75a&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Shattered Bond: A Fox Amulet's Ominous Sign
During exercise, I accidentally damaged the jade pendant my boyfriend gave me as a token of our love. He was furious and couldn't contain his anger. His terrifying expression was completely different from his usual self. And three days later was our wedding date. Caught in a dilemma, I reached out to a relationship host for advice. While two groups of viewers in the live chat were arguing about whether to [get married] or [break up], the host frowned at the screen: "[You should just run away; this isn't even a fox spirit jade pendant! In fact...]"/0/57814/coverorgin.jpg?v=f81afba37237158b903e169be065efa1&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Bride of Mr. Billion
Last night, I spent an erotic night with a stranger in a bar. I'm not a random woman. I did this because I was too sad yesterday. The boyfriend who had been in love with me for three years dumped me and flash-married a rich girl. Although I act as if nothing happened in front of my friends, I'm really sad. To ease my mood, I went to the bar alone and got drunk. Accidentally, I ran into him. He is beyond attractive and incredibly sexy. As desire controlled my mind, I had one-night stand with him. When I decided to forget everything and move on, I found my one-night stand turn to be my new boss. A possessive guy./1/102555/coverorgin.jpg?v=d210300266401538383930c5fa2037f4&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Faked Death, Found Freedom
At eight months pregnant, I discovered my husband Holden' s secret living trust. The password wasn't our anniversary, but the birthday of his young protégée, Anika. His entire fortune wasn't for me or our unborn child. It was all for her. When I confronted him, the truth was a death sentence. He called me a "vessel," a surrogate to carry an heir for Anika, who was too fragile to bear a child herself. "She will raise him," he said, his eyes cold. Then I found the recordings. Once our son was born, I was to be eliminated in a "tragic accident." My seven-year marriage was a lie, a transaction to produce an heir. They wanted me dead and my baby stolen. So I gave them one of their wishes. I faked my own death, burned my old life to the ground, and disappeared with my son./0/83939/coverorgin.jpg?v=97e5d15d41ef8afc86c3b31ae5eb4ac6&imageMogr2/format/webp)
My Wife, The Murderer
My life was perfect, or so I thought. I was Ethan, a former architect, now a devoted stay-at-home dad, happily supporting my ambitious wife, Nicole, a rising city councilwoman, as she chased her mayoral dreams. Our beautiful daughter, Lily, was celebrating her sixth birthday at what was deceptively also a high-stakes political fundraiser in the dream home I designed. Then, the world shattered. A deafening explosion ripped through our home, and in an instant, the smoke and flames consumed everything, including my little Lily. Days later, I woke up in a hospital, horrifically burned, only to hear Nicole, my wife, coldly order the surgeon to perform a vasectomy during my skin graft surgery, not for medical reasons, but to ensure "my real son, Caleb" was the sole heir. As I lay there, paralyzed and helpless, slipping in and out of consciousness, I overheard the monstrous truth. Nicole hadn't just allowed Lily to die; she meticulously planned the "gas leak" explosion with a hitman. Our daughter, her own child, was a "political liability," an "obstacle" to Caleb's inheritance. Lily was merely a "tragic story" to secure her election. My physical pain was a dull ache compared to the pure, hellish agony ripping through my soul. How could the woman I loved, the mother of my child, be such a cold-blooded monster? What kind of twisted ambition sacrifices an innocent life for power? But my shattered world was not the end; it was the beginning. In the silent, agonizing nights, the architect's mind that built structures began to deconstruct, to plan, to plot. I swallowed my screams, feigned unconsciousness, and made a silent vow: she had taken everything from me, and now, I would take everything from her. Justice for Lily, no matter the cost./1/115070/coverorgin.jpg?v=a10a49e9a1643825f150c93370362a70&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Chief's Comeback: Too Late, Cole
My husband's affair pushed me into the arms of his partner, Cole. For three years, he was the perfect, doting husband. I thought I had finally found my happy ending. Then I overheard a phone call and my world collapsed. Our marriage was a lie. I was just a pawn, a tool to keep me docile while his true love secured my ex-husband. He had me brutally beaten, forced me to abort our child, and publicly stripped me in front of hundreds of his colleagues. His final act of cruelty was forcing me to give blood to save the woman who destroyed me, leaving me for dead on the hospital floor. But he made one fatal mistake: he trusted the wrong person to handle our marriage papers. Three years later, I returned as the new Chief Liaison Officer for the International Police. And the first faces I saw at my welcome conference were his and my ex-husband's./0/85347/coverorgin.jpg?v=cbd68d59ad9d952769cddc55b8016380&imageMogr2/format/webp)
His Betrayal, Her Unborn Child
My family was a masterpiece, but underneath, it was rotting. We were the envy of the art world, with my formidable mother, respected father, and charming brother. And then there was me, Chloe, the sensitive artist they cultivated like a prized orchid. But I felt the chill of a long-buried secret, making me a stranger in my own home. Then I met Liam, an architect who built solid things, and for the first time, I felt seen. His love was a warm room in my cold house, and when I became pregnant, I imagined our perfect future. "We're pregnant," I whispered to him, and his face lit up with overwhelming joy. He became the doting husband, planning our child' s future, a warmth I' d craved my whole life. Life was perfect, until the prenatal genetic screening results arrived. He stood rigid, staring at his computer, the warmth draining from the room. "Liam, what is it?" I asked, my voice trembling as he turned, his face a mask of cold fury. "We have to get rid of it," he said, his voice flat, devoid of emotion. "The baby?" I stammered, unable to process his words. "Don't call it that," he snapped back, demanding I terminate the pregnancy tomorrow. Before I could react, my family walked in, and I rushed to them, crying, "Liam… he wants me to have an abortion! He won't tell me why!" My mother' s perfectly manicured nails dug into my skin, her voice like chipping ice. "He's right, Chloe," she said, her grim resolve mirroring Liam's. "You have to do this," my father added, his tone leaving no room for argument. My brother sneered, "Don't be stupid, Chloe. You can't have this… thing." They closed in, calling my child "unnatural" and "tainted." Their persuasion turned to force, dragging me towards a car that would take me to a clinic. I fought, screamed, and clawed, a wild animal fighting for its young. I escaped into a labyrinth of city alleys, their footsteps pounding behind me. I slipped, crashing hard, and felt a sharp, searing pain. A crimson stain spread across my dress; my baby, my innocent life, was slipping away. My family stood over me, their faces impassive, utterly devoid of love, as I blacked out. I awoke in a sterile mental institution, committed by them. For months, I was a ghost in a white gown, drugged, tormented, chipped away until I died, alone, my family' s secret safe. Then, I opened my eyes. I was in my bed, whole, my stomach flat. I scrambled for my phone; it was the day the genetic test results were due. The day my world had ended. And it was all about to happen again. But this time, I had a memory, a prophecy. I had died, and now I was back, filled with a cold, clear purpose: to get the report, to understand why, and to make them pay./1/119294/coverorgin.jpg?v=0c58a4577b1221d5ec615a914151ba03&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Ghosted His Heart, Now He Hates Me
Years after ghosting my online boyfriend, I returned to the U.S. as a successful journalist, completely transformed. My first big assignment was a documentary on his world-champion esports team. He was Emmett Burke, the team captain, and he didn't recognize me at all. Instead of recognition, I was met with pure hatred. During our first interview, he publicly called our past relationship a "deception," a lesson that taught him to only trust what's real. The man who once loved my online persona, "Aria," now looked at me with cold contempt. To make matters worse, my social-climbing mother-now his stepmother-had lied to him years ago, painting me as a cruel catfish just to get me out of the way. He believed her, and his bitterness was a constant, painful reminder of the past I couldn't escape. It hurt knowing I'd caused his pain by disappearing, but his utter dismissal of what we had felt like a fresh betrayal every day. I thought there was no hope, that he would hate "Aria" forever. Until one night, he found a box of my old things my mother tried to throw away. Inside was a photo of my old self with "Aria" written on the back, and a medal he had sent me all those years ago./0/82062/coverorgin.jpg?v=a0bde69d81a82254160425201c738aa6&imageMogr2/format/webp)
A Mother's Deadly Confession
Ava Rodriguez's brilliant brother, Leo, won the acclaimed American Justice Fellowship. His future was supposed to shine, a beacon of hope for their family. Then, he died. They called it suicide, but Leo's last scrawled words to her were: "Don't accept the fellowship." Ava knew they were lying. He was murdered, just like every other fellow who threatened the powerful. For three years, she buried herself in law, watching, waiting, preparing to expose the truth. Now, she's won the fellowship herself, her proposal a direct challenge to the corrupt system. But as she publicly declares her brother was murdered and vows to expose the truth, the trap springs shut around her. Suddenly, she's not the grieving sister seeking justice, but the prime suspect in a series of horrific murders. Evidence - her brother's unique custom pen, her IP address near other "suicide" scenes - mysteriously emerges, painting her as a cold-blooded serial killer. Even her own mother, distraught and masked, appears, "confessing" to the crimes to protect Ava, unknowingly deepening the meticulously planned frame-up. The world spins into a nightmare of accusations and twisted truths. She' s being set up not to shine, but to be destroyed, with her "suicide" in federal custody as the perfect final act. How could they twist everything so perfectly? Why her mother' s desperate, bizarre act? The narrative has been set: Ava Rodriguez, brilliant law graduate, or monstrous serial killer? Refusing to be another silenced victim, Ava stages a high-stakes escape from federal custody. She races to the darkest secret her family holds, the one place she believes the real truth lies-her father's grave. Under the harsh glare of news cameras and the FBI, a shovel in hand, she prepares to dig. What she unearths will either expose a shocking family secret and a vast conspiracy, or bury her forever./0/82375/coverorgin.jpg?v=0becd56eb74bfb87184da8e4b4cb1f56&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Jilted No More: Her Sterling Comeback
My husband, Mark Sterling, returned from a tech retreat a changed man. He brought with him Tiffany Royale, a "disruptor" influencer whose smile was too bright, her boasts too loud. In the tranquil living room I designed, he coldly announced his desire for a divorce. "I'm marrying Tiffany," he declared, praising her "Gen Z insights" as the future of his company, while Tiffany preened smugly. She swiftly joined Sterling Innovations, immediately dismissing me and my established network as "outdated legacy thinkers." I watched calmly as her disastrous "modern strategies" alienated key partners and threatened the company's very foundations, yet Mark remained utterly blind. When her incompetence led my powerful network of women – titans of finance and law – to withdraw their support en masse, Mark screamed, blaming me. In a fit of rage, he banished me, his "old and bitter" wife, to our sprawling Hamptons estate, believing it to be my silent exile. He had no idea that the "Cold Palace" wasn't a prison; it was my perfectly appointed command center. And with my formidable "Sorority Sisters" by my side, we were just getting started. The man who thought he was a genius was about to learn who had truly paved his path to power, and who would now dismantle it, piece by piece./0/84878/coverorgin.jpg?v=998b23d5adc486732e4c3e9aa1bb3f89&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Family Finances, Family Lies
My mother, with her soft voice and claims of fairness, persuaded me to manage her retirement savings after my father died. It seemed simple: I' d combine her funds with my monthly contributions, acting as the neutral "keeper" of our family' s money, ensuring everyone' s future was secure. For two diligent years, I meticulously paid her bills, covered her supposed emergencies, and added my own hard-earned money to the growing pot, trusting in her vision of harmonious financial transparency. But three months ago, the facade began to crack, and my brother, Leo, called demanding money I didn' t have, accusing me of hoarding funds from Mother. Then came the accusation that felt like a physical blow: "You' re stealing from our mother!" Suddenly, my career, my reputation, and my meticulously managed life were on the line, threatened by the very family I had sought to protect. The situation escalated fast, with Leo' s wife, Chloe, joining the fray, and my mother, the supposed architect of "fairness," silently abandoning me to the wolves. "Where is the money, Sarah?" Leo screamed, his self-righteous fury amplified by Chloe' s cynical barbs and Mom' s pleas for me to "just give him the money." They paraded their calculated "math," confidently asserting thousands should be in the account, yet their demands belied a deeper, insidious truth. I stood accused of theft, of selfishness, of living lavishly on her retirement, while in reality, I was the one propping up their irresponsible lifestyles. The ultimate betrayal came not from Leo' s shouted accusations, but from my mother' s tearful, whispered plea to validate their lies, to pay them off just to "make the conflict go away." No, I refused to be their villain, their ATM, or their silent, suffering scapegoat. "You want to talk about fair?" I said, a cold, hard resolve settling deep within me. "Fine. Let's talk about fair. I'll write you a check... but this time, it's a loan. With legal documents. And Mom will co-sign." The silence was deafening, the trap sprung. They didn' t want fairness; they wanted a handout. And their shocked faces revealed they knew it. This wasn't just about money anymore; it was about exposing the rot at the core of my family./0/83783/coverorgin.jpg?v=8b031479b44340c3f4126a099dfc8931&imageMogr2/format/webp)
His Twisted Redemption
Eight years ago, I had stupid dreams of a picket fence and a life with Ethan Carter. Then, at our high school graduation, I told him I was pregnant. Ethan didn' t just laugh; he dragged me in front of my father, accusing me of being a slut and my dad of destroying his first love, Sarah – a lie that killed my mother and paralyzed my father. I became a pariah, a strip club waitress raising his son in a shithole town, while he became a wealthy, powerful man. Why did he do it? Why this twisted revenge that shattered my family and turned my life into a living hell? Now, he's back, trying to steal my son, but after Sarge, my only protector, died trying to save us, and my father was murdered, enough is enough. I' m Izzy Rossi, and this time, the hunt is on./0/77682/coverorgin.jpg?v=deea88ec5626737dbcce0aa8ad5b8d36&imageMogr2/format/webp)
CHASING HIS CONTRACT WIFE
"Marry me and save your family's reputation or stand the chance of loosing everything." He said, his face stoic. She stood there watching him, the same man she had hated and wished death on for most of her adult life. "I'll marry you." She answered, defeated. Sophia Tyler never thought she would meet Bran Garner, the heartless billionaire who previously broke her heart. But when her family's debts became overwhelming, she was left with no option but to meet him again and put her signature on the line. The agreement? In just a year being his wife, her family's money problems will be resolved. Will she survive in a world filled with a lot more than luxury? where her strength is tested and secrets threatening to tear everything apart?/0/81906/coverorgin.jpg?v=80ea9ffbe73f540470276e10723055ee&imageMogr2/format/webp)
