Modern Books for Women
Bestsellers Ongoing Completed
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Seven Years, A Secret Family
I took a bullet for my husband, Colt, a decorated Delta Force operator. The injury left me barren, but he swore I was all he ever needed. Seven years later, I found him in a restaurant with another woman and a six-year-old boy who looked just like him. The boy called him "Dada." My world shattered when I learned his family, his friends, and even my own father knew about his secret life. They all watched as he paraded his mistress, Chelsey, and their son, Jemal, in front of me. He even admitted I was just a "means to an end" for his family's legacy. When Jemal went missing, Chelsey accused me of kidnapping him. Colt believed her. He locked me in our cellar for three days, a punishment for a crime I didn't commit. "He's not a bastard!" Colt roared when I questioned if the boy was even his. "He's my son! My blood!" But his eyes darted away, filled with uncertainty. As I stumbled out of the cellar, bruised and broken, my best friend arrived. "The divorce papers are filed, Em," she whispered fiercely. "It's done." I looked back at Colt, standing stunned on the porch. His empire of lies was crumbling, and I was finally free./1/113354/coverorgin.jpg?v=56d3308a3230fe4ceaa4b7059ea5f1d9&imageMogr2/format/webp)
He's The Last To Know Her Power
"I want a divorce." I was eight months pregnant. He didn't know. For three years, I fixed every SEC filing he signed. Caught every error. Kept his billion-dollar firm clean. He never once asked what I did all day. When he said those three words over dinner, I didn't cry. I didn't beg. I just smiled and said, "Okay." Then I went upstairs, unlocked my study—the room he never entered—and pulled out a lease for a Brooklyn apartment. Incorporation papers for my own firm. And a folder full of evidence that could send his company up in flames. He thought he was divorcing a wife. He was actually firing the only person keeping him out of federal prison. Now his partners want to sue me. His mother is panicking. And he's been sitting in a hospital waiting room for seven hours—just for a chance to hold our daughter. He spent three years not seeing me. Now? He can't look away. My name is Nora Kidd. And I'm just getting started./1/115075/coverorgin.jpg?v=8a0d603fc870d44a5a7dbb9f856c1bae&imageMogr2/format/webp)
A Yale Scholarship For His Lies
My boyfriend, Jefferson, convinced me to give up my Yale scholarship for him. He was my secret, my escape from the shame of my mother's past, and I threw away my future for our love. Then, at a gala, he publicly announced his engagement to Aubrey Carroll-the girl who made my high school years a living hell. He trapped me in his mansion, forcing me to become her personal servant. She tortured me daily, culminating in her brutally killing our dog, Charlie, with a garden trowel. When her friends arrived, they joined in, stripping me half-naked and live-streaming my panic attack for the world to see. The man who once promised to protect me watched as they destroyed me. But as I lay bleeding out on the floor, it wasn't an ambulance that arrived. It was the private security of Alexzander Stevens-my estranged, billionaire grandfather. He revealed I was his sole heiress, and now, we were going to make them pay for every last tear./0/86760/coverorgin.jpg?v=852c5489d85b151aa36be7a66e9ad85d&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Unburnt Man's Revenge
The smell of gasoline and the horrifying image of my own son, Leo, smirking as he flicked a lighter, consumed me in my last moments. My wife, Olivia, stood beside him, her face a mask of cold satisfaction. In that agonizing instant, I learned the bitter truth: Leo wasn't my son, but the product of IVF with Alex, Olivia's childhood love, a man supposedly long dead. I had spent three decades building an empire for Olivia's family, the Millers, out of gratitude for them taking in an orphan. All for a love that was a lie. Olivia confessed her secret, revealing how she had always loved Alex and despised me, the obstacle to her true happiness. The flames roared, my silent scream lost in the inferno. I died burning, betrayed by the woman I cherished and the son I raised, a fool who had wasted his entire existence. But then, I opened my eyes. The smell of gasoline was gone, replaced by roses and champagne. I was standing in a lavish suite, wearing a tuxedo. My body felt young, strong, unblemished. It was my wedding night, thirty years ago. Olivia, panicked, snatched her buzzing phone. "It's Alex," she whispered, "He says he's going to jump." She looked at me, not with love, but with raw, desperate fear for another man. Her father burst in, forbidding her to leave. She froze, then reluctantly agreed, blaming me with her eyes for the life she was forced into. My throat burned with the memory of the fire. I remembered every sacrifice-my ambitions, my eighteen-hour days, raising Leo. A son who wasn' t mine. A life built on deceit. A death born of her twisted obsession. She slapped me, her words meant to humiliate. "Say something, you pathetic social climber!" This time, things would be different. I caught her wrist. "No." I would not be the devoted husband or sacrificial lamb. My past was a brutal lesson. This time, I would save myself. I released her wrist. "The wedding is off."/0/58445/coverorgin.jpg?v=5298c442553c787ba12601da756766ca&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Soul of My Beloved
When I was being tortured to death, my daughter was preparing dinner for her mother-in-law. The last thing she said to me was, "Don't you know today is the day your mother is being discharged from the hospital?! Don't bring bad luck on this auspicious day!" One day later, the hospital received a broken body that needed to be reconstructed. What my daughter didn't know was that the body she had sewn back together with her own hands was that of her own mother, whom she hated the most./1/103499/coverorgin.jpg?v=f3de9ceb23819f38e8cc93c0cbd67875&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Six Years of Poisoned Love
My husband, Alexander, gave me "fertility supplements" every morning for six years. I drank every drop, desperate for the child he promised we'd have. But my body remained stubbornly empty. Then, on my 40th birthday, I discovered the truth. The supplements were contraceptives. And his mistress was pregnant with the son he'd always wanted. She sent me a video of Alexander kissing her pregnant belly. "He's always loved me," the text read. "You were just the placeholder. Enjoy your barren life." The man I trusted had systematically poisoned me, stealing my dream of motherhood while building his real family with another woman. He had gaslighted me for years, making me believe I was the one who was broken, all while living a double life that began on our wedding day. That night, at the lavish birthday party he threw for me, he planned a "romantic surprise" on a giant screen for all our friends and family. He had no idea I had a surprise of my own./1/116014/coverorgin.jpg?v=c14b9d23d279f2d84e4edb07151e2fb9&imageMogr2/format/webp)
You Can't Afford My Broken Heart
For eight years, I was the perfect, devoted partner to billionaire Andrew Blackburn. But outside his VIP lounge, I overheard the cold truth. "Katharine is just a PR shield," Andrew told his friends, laughing. "Alida is too fragile for the tabloids. Once the trust fund is secure, I'll make the prenup so draconian she'll run for the hills." Days later at a gala, Alida intentionally tripped me. As a thousand-pound steel chandelier plummeted toward us, Andrew's instincts took over. He lunged forward to shield Alida, violently shoving me backward to clear their path. He pushed me directly under the falling glass. Razor-sharp crystal shards exploded into my flesh. As I lay bleeding out on the marble floor, gasping for air, Andrew scooped up the completely unharmed Alida and carried her away. He didn't look back at me. Not even once. Later in the hospital, Alida deliberately tore at my IV needle. When my friend tried to stop her, Andrew stormed in, blindly defending his mistress. He shoved me so hard my weak body tumbled over the terrace ledge, plunging into a freezing fountain and ripping my fresh stitches wide open. Lying in the bloody water, looking up at the man I had loved for almost a decade, my heart turned to solid ice. When I woke up, I didn't cry, and I didn't beg for justice. I called the most ruthless liquidation lawyer in New York and signed a total Asset Stripping Agreement. Then, I booked a one-way flight to Paris, leaving behind a snapped wedding ring and a two-word note. "We're even."/0/84101/coverorgin.jpg?v=9b4bf88fac255ca1d6243b70282a0e12&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Unseen Genius: A Family\'s Ruin
I finally won. First place in the state math decathlon, the key to the gaming PC my family promised. But when I walked through the door, my savings were gone, spent on ridiculously expensive lacrosse gear for my adoptive brother, Caleb, who was expertly faking devastation over a lost game. My father scoffed, calling my victory "showing off" and my computer "stupid," while my mother and sister rallied around Caleb, reminding me of "the rule" – I was never to outshine him. Then, at dinner, they ignored my severe dairy allergy while meticulously catering to Caleb's, leading to him faking a fall and accusing me, prompting my family to unite against me, forcing a hollow apology, and culminating in my sister throwing my backpack out the front door, effectively banishing me. It was clear: in their eyes, I was merely a guest, a problem to be managed, and my achievements were just an inconvenient truth. But as I walked away into the night, a quiet resolve solidified: they wanted a failure, and I would give them one – on their terms – while secretly building an empire they knew nothing about./0/81129/coverorgin.jpg?v=cf5711d94a1a70040568df2881845561&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Reclaiming Her Crown: The Sterling Saga
Sarah Miller was the quiet, scar-faced tech genius at Apex Innovations, engaged to the charming CEO, Ethan Hayes. She just wanted to build something amazing, leading Apex' s most critical project, Nightshade, her professional pride and joy. Then, Ethan introduced Brittany Evans, a bubbly, blonde "coding prodigy" intern. Tasked with mentoring her, I quickly saw through Brittany's dazzling smile: she was utterly incompetent, yet constantly slipped into Ethan's private office. My honest performance review, highlighting her lack of technical depth, became my corporate death sentence. The next day, Ethan publicly stripped me of everything. My lead role on Nightshade, my groundbreaking project, and even my earned Apex Innovator Fellowship-all given to Brittany. He then stood before the entire engineering department and, with icy words, accused me of "pettiness" and "jealousy." The applause for Brittany was a hammer blow, each clap echoing my humiliation and betrayal. How could the man I loved, the man who supposedly protected me, do this? The injustice was unbearable. All my loyalty, my years of work, thrown away for an intern who spent two weeks charming the boss. It made no sense. Why would Ethan sacrifice his company' s future for her? My mind reeled, desperate for an answer that wasn't just "he's a fool." As I walked out of Apex, leaving my old life behind, something shifted. The glasses came off. My mousy facade crumbled. The quiet engineer was dead. Because the truth was far more complex: Sarah Miller was a carefully constructed lie. And now, the real Sarah-a Sterling heiress, a spy with a score to settle-was finally ready to play./1/107254/coverorgin.jpg?v=20db427c3c9fd91937b4442677c91ba6&imageMogr2/format/webp)
My Husband's Secret Public Wife
For eight years, I was the perfect, understanding wife. My husband, Gavin, insisted his company retreats were strictly for employees. No spouses allowed. I never questioned it, believing I was supporting his demanding career. Then I saw a photo from his last ski trip to Aspen. All his colleagues were there, smiling beside their wives. And in the center stood Gavin, his arm wrapped possessively around another woman. She was wearing my blue silk dress-the one he swore I must have lost at the dry cleaners. My world didn't just crack; it shattered. I discovered that for our entire marriage, he had been living a double life. This woman, Chanelle, wasn't just his mistress. She was his public wife. She was the one who went on lavish trips to Hawaii and Europe. She was the one introduced to his colleagues and clients. She was even listed as his emergency contact-his spouse-in the official company directory. I wasn't just the wife he cheated on. I was the wife he completely erased. But my heartbreak quickly hardened into cold resolve. He was expecting tears and a quiet breakdown. He wasn't expecting me to show up at his company's annual awards gala, marriage certificate in hand, ready to introduce myself to the world he' d hidden from me./1/115076/coverorgin.jpg?v=8f1aa7961b993db3e63b9ac215fb62fd&imageMogr2/format/webp)
My Death Was Just The Start
My wedding was tomorrow. I was a crisis counselor who had finally found peace with my loving fiancé, Dexter, and my best friend, Barbara. A late-night call about a forced marriage led me to a hotel penthouse, where I found them naked in bed together. It was all a cruel, three-year "savior game." They were bored heirs, and I was their project. They destroyed my career, caused me to lose our baby, and put my mother in the hospital. They forced me to be a bridesmaid at their wedding-the one that should have been mine. In front of hundreds of guests, they exposed my traumatic past and then tried to marry me off to a drunken stranger as a joke. As I stood there, broken, a text from Barbara arrived. "Your mother saw the livestream. She had a heart attack. She's not going to make it." With nothing left, I ran to the 20th-floor window and jumped. They thought they had erased me. But my death was just the beginning./1/100371/coverorgin.jpg?v=708d2fc049b7617c419f75395de197ab&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Rising From His Ashes of Betrayal
Eleanor POV: My husband, Adrien, was my shield against the world, the only one who understood the trauma that haunted me after my family was murdered. I clung to him, my fierce loyalty a desperate attempt to keep the monsters at bay. Then he brought home Daphne, a quiet barista he called innocent. I saw the manipulation in her downcast eyes, but he saw only purity. His affection turned to violence. He threw me against a wall, his words cutting deeper than any blow. "You disgust me," he spat. He let her get pregnant, and when I lost our child in the chaos, he accused me of murder. "You killed my child!" he roared, his love replaced by a chilling hatred. He bound me, broke me, and left me for dead in a burning helicopter, choosing to save her instead. I was the monster, the madwoman, the one who deserved to be destroyed. How could the man who swore to protect me become my greatest tormentor? But I survived. After faking my death to escape his hell, I watched him mourn me with crocodile tears while building a new life with my replacement. Now, I'm back to reclaim my name, my fortune, and to make him understand what a real monster looks like./0/58446/coverorgin.jpg?v=0989dc1d4f1e43449fcfcfc98e232004&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Taming My Unruly Sister
The night after the SAT ended, my sister sent me a wish list. "iPhone for 10,000 yuan, tablet for 5,000 yuan, computer for 8,000 yuan, clothes for 3,000 yuan, cosmetics for 2,000 yuan... totaling 50,000 yuan." I am just a working person with a monthly salary of 3,000 yuan, and my parents are both laborers. How can I come up with so much money for her all at once? Our family scraped together and could only give her 20,000 yuan. But she not only didn't appreciate it, but also threatened to jump off a building. My parents and I had no choice but to borrow money from everywhere, working multiple jobs a day to repay the debts. When my parents died in a car accident due to overwork, my sister and her boyfriend were still indulging in luxury at a five-star hotel. I also succumbed to the overwhelming pressure and depression and ended up committing suicide. After being reborn, I personally sent her to work at a corrupt factory, and she became obedient./1/103500/coverorgin.jpg?v=98866f9cd4326e897cdff77f541e674c&imageMogr2/format/webp)
My Celebrity Therapist's Cruel Deception
On my tenth wedding anniversary, I found my celebrity therapist husband naked with our housekeeper. He called it "somatic therapy." I was pregnant with our miracle baby and secretly battling a brain tumor. But when his lover faked a fall and a miscarriage, framing me for it, he chose her. The fall caused me to lose my actual baby. As I lay bleeding on the floor, my husband scoffed, "Don't play games, Alexis," and rushed her to the hospital. He then had me committed to a psychiatric facility, publicly painting me as delusional to protect his reputation and his affair. He thought he had gotten rid of me forever. But he didn't know my sister would break me out. He didn't know I would fake my own death to escape. Now, I'm back. And I'm about to teach the good doctor a lesson in consequences./0/84884/coverorgin.jpg?v=c87161adb656415e34cb0c15de7e023f&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Erased, Not Forgotten: Reclaimed
For ten years, Sterling Manor was my world, every brushstroke a prayer to a father who vanished, leaving behind whispers of a hidden masterpiece. I poured my life into its decayed bones, chasing approval he never gave, believing I was restoring our family's legacy. Then, Sterling, the manor' s owner-the vulture who picked at other people's legacies-announced his fiancée, Lily. He gave her my decade of sacrifice, my meticulous work, as a party favor, publicly humiliating me as "just a restorer" to launch her career. He stripped me of everything: my credit, my dignity, even my small apartment within those walls. Lily, with a calculated innocence, cemented the lie, painting me as an "intense" threat, a "fired" employee. My name-my only mark on a decade of work-was painted over, erased. "Just a restorer." The words echoed, burning with the injustice of his betrayal. Was my life wasted chasing a ghost? A legacy that wasn't mine to claim? The truth felt like a bitter pill. But a cold, clear resolve settled within me. I walked out of that house, but not without my father's hidden sketchbook. It was time for Sterling' s meticulously crafted world to crumble, and for me to reclaim what was truly mine./1/116641/coverorgin.jpg?v=1a0fe9d6d829187967a81152dec2c9f2&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Her Fake Memory Loss, His Real Goodbye
One phone call shattered a seven-year-long dream of love. Holden Campbell believed his fiancée Avery's amnesia was a wound that needed patient healing. He used all his connections, booking appointments with the best neurologists on the East Coast, convinced that science and love could bring back the woman who had accepted his proposal. However, an overheard phone call plunged him into despair—Avery had never suffered from amnesia. She had simply grown tired of their "suffocatingly perfect life," using "selective amnesia" as a costless vacation, and he was nothing more than a toy she could put back on the shelf at any time. When betrayal transformed from suspicion into irrefutable evidence, when his lover's laughter became the sharpest blade, Holden didn't break down, didn't confront her. He simply picked up his phone and dialed a lawyer's number: "I need to change my name. And, liquidate everything I own." A meticulously planned disappearance began. Behind him, the woman who thought she was in control remained unaware—her puppet had cut all its strings, and the script she had crafted was about to lose its only leading man./0/96930/coverorgin.jpg?v=cde5cc8994e5817173d4d9dc4399111a&imageMogr2/format/webp)
My Escape From His Poisonous Love
For seven years, my husband, Dwight, was a saint for publicly forgiving me for letting his mother die. Today, he let my father die. And I learned his forgiveness was just a seven-year-long lie. He refused to send a medical helicopter, choosing instead to listen to his new, twenty-two-year-old lover, Charity, preach about the universe's plan. At my father's funeral, she crashed the service in a wedding dress, drew a clown smile on my father's face with lipstick, and announced she was pregnant. "You're a barren wasteland," she sneered. "A broken woman he can't stand the sight of." That's when I understood. His forgiveness was never real. It was a slow-burning revenge for a crime his own mother had orchestrated against me-a crime that left me unable to ever have children. He thought he had taken everything from me. He was wrong. He left me one thing: revenge. And I was about to burn his entire world to the ground./1/101936/coverorgin.jpg?v=dd92856603c1ab73055b92f1d3a8e68d&imageMogr2/format/webp)
My Fiance's Deadly Betrayal
A week before my wedding, my fiancé' s sister-in-law, Kimberlee, ran me off a bridge. As I lay dying in the wreckage, my fiancé, Deacon, rushed past me to comfort her, barking at the paramedics to prioritize her "superficial" shock over my fatal injuries. He forced my crushed hand to sign a waiver absolving her of all fault, then left me to die in the rain. "She's just trying to get attention," he muttered. "Kimberlee is the priority. She almost died." I watched as a ghost while he ignored the pleas of my colleagues to perform the life-saving surgery I needed. He even told my mentor he wished I were dead. Then, he proposed to Kimberlee with my ring. My love for him finally shattered. I was dead, my career was being destroyed, and my murderer was wearing my ring. But death wasn't the end. It was a front-row seat to their betrayal, and I was tethered to the man who let me die, forced to watch every single moment./0/58916/coverorgin.jpg?v=d804cfc05e054ea420c2435455480dae&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Stolen Hearts.
Heart Thief She is one of the most infamous thieves of the 21st century. In the underworld, she’s a legendary wheelman, an icon of the black market. A woman as swift as the wind, living life on her own terms. He is one of the top crime lords, a kingpin with a reputation for ruthlessness and a heart of stone. But when someone dared to steal from him, they crossed a line. They took what was his, and now he’s coming for her. In a world where loyalty is fleeting and love is a dangerous game, will their story be one of passion or betrayal, love or vengeance?/0/85041/coverorgin.jpg?v=f9d02897301add66c91e7a4b7045c5d0&imageMogr2/format/webp)
