Modern Books for Women
Bestsellers Ongoing Completed
/1/111417/coverorgin.jpg?v=8ddebfe15948283d4650fdac200c7fd8&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Dumped My Fake-Poor Ex, Married My Wealthy Boss
For six years, I worked myself to the bone to support my "struggling artist" boyfriend, Kasen. I paid the rent on our leaky Brooklyn apartment and believed in his dream, thinking our love was real. That all ended one rainy night when I delivered documents to an exclusive club and overheard him with his wealthy friends. Our life, he said, was just a "sociological experiment." He wasn't poor at all. He was a trust fund heir with a fiancée in the Hamptons, waiting to close a corporate merger. "Kaia is just a naive pet who voluntarily pays my rent," he laughed over a three-thousand-dollar glass of scotch. He told them girls like me were so desperate we'd come crawling back for a scrap of affection. My entire world shattered. I packed my bags and walked out that night with eighty-four dollars to my name, ready to start over. But escaping one monster only threw me to another. The next day, a predatory client tried to drug me during a business meeting. My boss, the terrifyingly powerful CEO Camden William, intervened. But after a night of drug-induced chaos, I woke up in his bed. He didn't offer an apology. He offered a contract. "Marry me for three years," he commanded, "and I'll give you five million dollars and make sure Kasen can never touch you again."/1/118880/coverorgin.jpg?v=af45a22dbce314444f4a8d225d030538&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Billionaire Refuses To Divorce Me
Iris Weaver worked quietly as a surgeon at St. Jude's, hiding her true identity as the heir to a medical dynasty and the legendary underground surgeon, "Nil." Her peaceful life was shattered when she was forced to treat a VIP patient, the famous actress Kelsey Mcknight. But the real nightmare was the man standing next to the actress's bed: Adler Pope, the ruthless billionaire and Iris's estranged husband of four years. For four years, their marriage existed only on paper. Yet here he was, accompanying his rumored celebrity girlfriend, who openly mocked Iris for looking too young to be a real doctor. When Iris later handed him the divorce papers to end the sham, Adler completely flipped. He refused to sign, trapped her in her office, and violently smashed a metal file cabinet just because she calmly stated she wasn't jealous. Iris was utterly baffled by his sudden obsession. Why was he refusing the divorce when he was clearly parading another woman around? Why did he go as far as faking a heart condition just to sit in her clinic and corner her? "My Mrs. Pope has only ever been you." Hearing his hypocritical whisper, Iris felt nothing but cold disgust. Since her billionaire husband wanted to play twisted games, she decided to stop hiding. With her elite medical team secretly flying in from Zurich, it was time for the legendary "Nil" to show him who really held the scalpel./0/38417/coverorgin.jpg?v=aca88561b93617c1fcc4a9fa7f5a6b87&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Morbid Fascination: You Mean the Whole World to Me
Freya sacrificed her happiness and youth just to save her sick mother's life and her family's hospital. She was forced to marry Brennan, a man who was in a three-month coma after having an accident. It was a contractual marriage, but it still bonded them together. Freya already resigned herself to never seeing her vegetative husband awake, but she was in for a surprise. On their wedding night, her vegetative husband suddenly stirred and opened his eyes. Freya almost had a heart attack! What did the future hold for them now that Brennan unexpectedly woke up? Were they going to stay married? Or would Brennan throw her out?/1/106227/coverorgin.jpg?v=1bab4241b23542c41a61aea1fb06819b&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Billionaire's Dare: My Secret Husband
I was the "little bird" of the Carlson empire, living a comfortable but caged life under the thumb of my guardian, Francis. To the world, Christ Carlson was the cold, untouchable machine who ran the family business, a man I called "Uncle" but who treated me like a ghost in the hallway. One drunken night in Las Vegas, desperate to finally "poke the bear" and feel alive, I leaned into his shadows and whispered a dare that would ruin me. I asked the most terrifying man I knew if he dared to marry me right then and there. He didn't laugh. He stood up, dragged me to a tacky chapel, and forced a massive diamond onto my finger with a grip like iron. The "asexual" machine everyone feared turned into a predator the moment we reached his penthouse, claiming me with a bruising intensity that left me breathless and broken. By morning, I was trapped in a living nightmare. Christ forced me to hide the marriage, demanding I play the part of the dutiful niece while he owned me in the shadows. He replaced my ripped clothes with thousands of dollars in designer silk, essentially buying my silence and my body in one cold transaction. Now, I’m back at the family estate, hiding a five-carat ring on a chain under my shirt and praying Francis doesn't see the marks on my neck. I thought I was being rebellious, but I didn't realize Christ Carlson had been waiting for me to walk into his trap for years. I am legally his, physically his, and he has no intention of ever letting me go. Every time he looks at me, I feel the cage door slamming shut, realizing I’ve traded a guardian who ignores me for a husband who wants to dismantle me piece by piece. At breakfast, Christ pressed his shoe firmly against my inner thigh under the table, his gaze locked on mine while he discussed my future with Francis. "I think it's time we found her a match," Christ said, his voice a lethal, calm purr. "I was thinking of keeping her in the family."/0/84489/coverorgin.jpg?v=709189e4b82db523dfe119086465b9e5&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Moonlit Confession: One More Chance With My Beautiful Mistake
Just as Alina and Rhett finalized their divorce, a friend pressed Rhett. "So that's it? You don't regret it one bit?" Rhett just shrugged, jamming his hands into his pockets, a crooked grin sliding across his face. "It was just a deal from day one. There's nothing to regret." Yet at a party pulsing with bass and laughter, whiskey loosened his guard and reignited old heat. He slipped through the crowd, pinning Alina to a wall, his breath brushing her hair. His palm skimmed her waist, guiding her silk-clad thigh around his hip. With a soft, raspy tone, he murmured, "What if we gave us one more shot?"/0/17977/coverorgin.jpg?v=fdbfc94c0ddd70fcc1b125e7f2613c3e&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/72160/coverorgin.jpg?v=5d93802c215b0faabde6674abe03ccd1&imageMogr2/format/webp)
FOR ORLA: A MOTHER'S REVENGE
Liora Callaguan's life completely changes when her daughter Orla is unjustly taken from her, and the man responsible walks free. Once a devoted baker, wife, and mother, Liora's grief transforms into a relentless pursuit of justice. Determined to confront her child's killer, Liora's actions lead to her imprisonment. Behind bars, she encounters others who share her pain, and together, they unravel a mysterious case, finding healing along the way. Can Liora navigate this new path and rediscover hope amidst this tragedy?/1/110445/coverorgin.jpg?v=42977c0ced7d68c234461b95b181b1cc&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Dump The Cheater, Marry The King: The Unrivaled CEO Claimed Me As Wife
When Leanna caught her fiancé in another woman's arms, she didn't cry, beg, or break. Instead, she walked straight toward the one man no one dared approach. Leanna had assumed she'd slept with her fiancé's uncle, but she soon realized the dangerously composed man was far more than what he seemed. Behind his calm gaze hid one secret identity after another. Worst of all, she had believed the rumors that he was an impotent man, until he gripped her wrist, pinned her beneath him, and declared firmly, "You will carry my child." Red-faced, Leanna answered, "Okay."/1/116610/coverorgin.jpg?v=74490d6cc4b9c13cfcb443925b063569&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Betrayed Bride: The CEO's Contract Marriage
Chloe Sinclair was running for her life in a freezing downpour, tearing her custom silk wedding dress just to escape the security guards her own family had sent to hunt her down. To save their failing company, her father was forcing her to marry Dalton Gray, a notorious junkie from an over-leveraged family. When she refused, her family framed her in a fake sex scandal. They leaked photos to the press, publicly branding her a spoiled, promiscuous disgrace who had suffered a mental breakdown. While she hid in a dark alley, bleeding and frozen, she discovered their ultimate betrayal. Her stepmother had hired a stand-in bride to wear her heavy veil. They were going to forge Chloe's signature at the altar tonight, legally binding her to Dalton's massive debts and selling her into financial slavery. Her trust fund was frozen. Her credit cards were blocked. She was entirely alone. She couldn't understand how her own flesh and blood could be so monstrous. They were willing to bury her alive just to secure a bank loan. The heartbreak and humiliation burned away her tears, leaving nothing but a cold, explosive rage. "I am going to drag them out into the light and ruin them myself." Instead of hiding, Chloe struck a dangerous deal with Carlisle Holder, the most ruthless billionaire on Wall Street. Armed with his resources and wearing a stolen maid's uniform, she hacked the wedding venue's security grid, ready to broadcast her family's filthy secrets to the entire world./1/114988/coverorgin.jpg?v=86a240f051c68541688fcab2d98fd28f&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Burned Wife Reborn For Spectacular Revenge
I lived my entire life in a beautiful, naive bubble, completely trusting my husband and my best friend. That was until they tied me to a chair, slit my vocal cords, and set my family's estate on fire. As the flames crept closer, my husband Demarco calmly crushed my diamond wedding ring under his leather heel. My best friend Cristin walked in, leaning against his shoulder and pouring her champagne onto the floorboards to fuel the fire. "Your grandfather didn't just have a stroke. The medication swap was incredibly easy to arrange." Looking down at my bleeding body, they casually confessed to murdering the only person who had ever truly protected me, all to swallow the Bridges empire. I couldn't even scream. I could only suffocate in the thick black smoke as they turned their backs and locked the heavy oak door behind them. Why was I so blind? How could the two people I loved most treat me like disposable garbage? In my final moments of agonizing pain and pure, concentrated fury, I pulled out the detonator my grandfather had secretly left me. I pressed the button, blowing the estate and all of us to hell. But the burning stopped. When I opened my eyes, I was staring up at a pristine crystal chandelier. I was fifteen years old again, lying in my childhood bedroom, right before my treacherous uncle and those parasites started tearing my family apart. And I didn't come back empty-handed. This time, I am not the naive heiress./1/106553/coverorgin.jpg?v=8889eeed04bf2059e93df62eb432abff&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Stolen Sapphire: His Fake Girlfriend
I returned to New York after three years in Paris, sick and broken, with nothing but a venomous vow to reclaim my life. I looked like a total disaster in my scuffed boots and ripped jeans, a far cry from the Stanton heiress I once was. On the flight home, a glossy magazine headline hit me like a physical blow: my half-sister Aryana was celebrating a fairytale engagement while wearing my dead mother's sapphire pendant. The necklace was my only legacy, stolen by the interlopers who had usurped my place the moment I vanished. Things spiraled into a nightmare before I even landed. I accidentally spilled milk all over a powerful billionaire, Denis Stephens, and then fainted directly into his arms during turbulence. At the hospital, my ex-boyfriend's new girlfriend mocked my illness, snapping photos of me looking like a "pregnant" mess to ruin my reputation. When I finally fought my way to the family manor to snatch the necklace back, my father tried to hit me, and my ex accused me of becoming a whore in Europe. I couldn't understand how my own father could freeze my bank accounts and treat me like a criminal while my sister played house with my mother's jewels. I was back in the orbit of the Manhattan elite, but I was a pariah with a target on my back and a body that was failing me. Then, the final blow came. I rear-ended a Bentley belonging to Denis Stephens-the same man I'd humiliated on the plane. With six figures in damages and zero dollars in my pocket, I was completely at his mercy. "You're going to be my date tonight," He commanded, pulling me into a high-stakes game of fake romance and cold revenge that I wasn't sure I'd survive./0/43610/coverorgin.jpg?v=aa4fabf48f61e65f94e98e09fabca8c8&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/107851/coverorgin.jpg?v=2e1b7c1cbb12e8901bb79ea1a3c65147&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Reborn Heiress: Revenge On My Wedding Day
I lay paralyzed in a luxury Swiss clinic, my body a heavy sack of meat I no longer controlled. The heart monitor’s rhythmic beep was the only thing louder than the silence, a mocking countdown to my inevitable end. My fiancé, Jordan, walked in looking impeccable in the custom suit I had bought him for his birthday. He wasn't alone; my best friend, Chloe, followed him into the room, wearing the vintage Givenchy dress I had saved for our anniversary gala. Jordan didn't look like a grieving man; he looked bored as he held up a blue folder confirming that my family's offshore trust had finally cleared. Chloe giggled, leaning over me to ask if I finally realized it was the engagement wine she had spiked seven days ago. Jordan brushed a cold hand over my forehead, calling me a "perfect little asset" before pulling Chloe into a hungry kiss right over my dying body. To ensure there was no turning back, he pulled out a silver lighter and set my living will on fire, watching the only document that could have saved me turn to ash. I tried to scream, to curse them both to hell for stealing my life and my legacy, but all that came out was a wet, rattling wheeze. My own father, I would later learn, had known about the takeover and chose the profit over his own daughter's life. As the darkness swallowed me whole, I made a silent, desperate promise: if there was anything after this, I would come back and destroy every single one of them. I gasped, my body jerking upright as air rushed into my lungs like liquid fire. I wasn't in Switzerland, and there was no poison in my veins. I was back in my Manhattan bedroom, staring at a phone that read June 12—the morning of the wedding, the day I was supposed to die, and the day I decided to burn their world to the ground./1/114340/coverorgin.jpg?v=c1a2fc5c0ecdd4342074c81fd93ee701&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The CEO's Runaway Wife And Secret Heir
I was arrested for defending myself against an assaulter, shivering in a freezing holding cell. The man who walked in to bail me out was Keven Armstrong, my billionaire ex-husband. He looked at my bruised wrists with utter disgust, tossed his lawyer's card on the bench, and sneered to his friend. "This is exactly what I was telling you. She always finds a way to make a mess of things." He still thought I divorced him four years ago because he was on the verge of bankruptcy. He didn't know I had secretly sold the only apartment he left me to anonymously save his company from ruin. He also didn't know I was raising his four-year-old son in a cramped house, where my own mother cursed me as a gold-digging disgrace and drove us out onto the street. Desperate to give my son a home, I finally landed a high-paying finance job. But on my very first day, I discovered my new company had just been acquired by Keven's empire. He singled me out in a mandatory staff meeting, publicly humiliating me for my four-year resume gap, and then summoned me to his corner office. He pulled out his checkbook, his eyes full of cold contempt. "How much to make you disappear? Just name your price and get out of my sight." I looked at the man whose empire I had secretly built, swallowing the bitter truth of our child's existence. This time, I refused to run away./0/19277/coverorgin.jpg?v=c6ffceb1adc4e6fd53c3931622443369&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/109474/coverorgin.jpg?v=b2bb4eb001507a81a4aca1f317d85db4&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Disposable Wife: He Married A Nobody? Think Again
In the third year of marriage, she uncovered a cruel truth-her husband had treated her as nothing more than a pawn in his medical research. Their union was a sham, and his real wife was his childhood sweetheart all along. Evelyn walked away without hesitation. Soon after, she learned she was the daughter of the nation's richest man-and had unknowingly married the continent's most powerful tycoon. Her ex waited for her to beg, only to discover her new status and rising influence. As he pleaded in regret, her new husband pulled her close and declared, "She's mine now."/1/106230/coverorgin.jpg?v=a8e8f32d2cc54557c255eafbd361ce4a&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Billionaire's Medicine: His Silent Obsession
My stepmother sold me like a piece of inventory to a man known for breaking people just to plug the financial crater my father left behind. I was delivered to the Morton estate in the middle of a freezing storm, stripped of my phone, and told that if I didn't make myself useful, my senile grandfather would be evicted from his care facility by noon. The master of the house, Adonis Morton IV, was a monster living in a silent mausoleum, driven to the brink of madness by a sensory condition that turned every sound into a physical assault. When I was forced into his suite to serve him, he didn't see a human being; he saw a source of agony. In a fit of animalistic rage, he pinned me to the wall and nearly strangled me to death just for the sound of a shattering teacup. I only survived by using my grandfather’s secret herbal blends and pressure-point therapy to force his overactive nervous system into a drugged sleep. But saving him was my greatest mistake. Instead of letting me go, Adonis moved me into a guest suite connected to his own bedroom by a hidden door. He didn't just want me as a servant; he needed me as a human white-noise machine to drown out the demons in his head. The nightmare deepened when he took the promissory note that defined my freedom and tore it into confetti. By destroying the debt, he destroyed my exit strategy. He replaced my maid’s uniform with a silver silk dress that clung to my skin but did nothing to hide the dark, ugly bruises his fingers had left on my neck. He branded me as his "primary care associate," a title that was nothing more than a gilded cage. I felt a sickening sense of injustice as he forced me to sign a contract that banned me from contacting other men and required me to sleep wherever he slept. He looked at me with a possessive heat, calling me his "medication" rather than a woman. My family had sold my body, but Adonis Morton was intent on owning my very presence, using my grandfather’s medical bills as a leash to keep me within twenty feet of him at all times. Standing in a neglected greenhouse with mud staining my expensive silk, I realized I was no longer a victim waiting for rescue. If I was going to be his medication, I would learn how to be his cure—or his undoing. I began clearing the weeds with a cold, calculated frenzy, determined to turn this prison into my laboratory. He thinks he has trapped a helpless girl, but I am going to pry open the cracks in his stone walls until his entire world comes crashing down./1/116937/coverorgin.jpg?v=2a1b0658c3d3beab368b7ceb8adea209&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Second Chance With The Obsessive CEO
She died in the flames. Then she woke up three days earlier-with a second chance and a list of names. Stella Thorne remembers everything. The fire. The betrayal. The cold smile on her fiancé's face as he pushed her into the inferno. But when she opens her eyes, she's not dead. She's back at the Vanity Fair gala, three hours before her nightmare began. This time, she's not playing nice. She humiliates her step-sister on live television, destroys her ex-fiancé's plans, and does the one thing no one expects: she kisses Axel Sterling-the cold Wall Street heir she publicly despised in her first life-in front of the entire world. Axel Sterling has loved her for ten painful years. He knows she's using him. He knows this sudden obsession is probably a lie. But he doesn't care. He marries her at midnight. He locks her in his penthouse. He calls it protection. But when she whispers another man's name in her sleep, the fragile peace shatters. Now Axel faces a choice: confront the woman he loves, or destroy the ghost she can't forget. One of them won't survive the truth./1/106555/coverorgin.jpg?v=490e09a3cdffbd03eb259a804ef8066b&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Woke Up Married To My Mysterious Boss
I woke up to a rhythmic thumping against the wall of our luxury apartment. I thought it was just a nightmare, but when I pushed open the bedroom door, the reality was much worse. My fiancé, Ignacio, was entangled with a blonde on the very sofa I had paid for three months ago. When he saw me, there was no guilt in his eyes, only cold annoyance. "I'm bored of the 'good girl' act, Aria," he said, standing up with terrifying casualness. "And frankly, I'm bored of waiting for your stepfather's money to clear." Before I could even process his words, he grabbed my arm and shoved me out into the hallway. He didn't let me grab my shoes or my phone. He just tossed my trench coat at my face and slammed the door, locking me out of my own life. Barefoot and shivering in the October rain, I wandered into a speakeasy and drank until the world blurred. That’s where I met him—a man who looked like a prince and radiated a dangerous kind of power. In a drunken, desperate haze, I asked him if he was for hire. I needed a husband to spite Ignacio, and he was the most expensive-looking man in the room. "Marry me," I pleaded, and to my shock, he agreed. We hit a twenty-four-hour chapel, signed the papers, and I passed out in the back of his Maybach. The next morning, I woke up in a penthouse on Billionaire’s Row. The man, Burke, stood there in a towel and handed me a bill for fifty thousand dollars for his "overnight services." I was terrified. My family was bankrupt, I was homeless, and now I owed a massive debt to a high-end escort I had accidentally married in a blackout. I fled to a job interview at Justice Group, hoping to earn enough to pay him off and disappear. But when I sat down in the waiting room, the "gigolo" was sitting right there, wearing a suit and holding a newspaper. "Don't tell anyone we know each other," I hissed, thinking he was just another desperate applicant. "Why? Ashamed of your husband?" he teased. Then the HR assistant called our names together, and I realized my nightmare was only just beginning./0/93902/coverorgin.jpg?v=1556307954fae09c685d08d0adc6ec07&imageMogr2/format/webp)
