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Modern Books for Women

Bestsellers Ongoing Completed
The Phantom Heiress: His Secret Obsession

The Phantom Heiress: His Secret Obsession

After eighteen years, I finally returned to the billionaire Warren family, only to be treated like uneducated, rust-belt trash. My stepmother shoved me into a freezing, windowless room, and my half-sister Kelly bought me an $89 plastic dress to humiliate me at the family's high-society gala. When her petty bullying failed, Kelly took it a step further. Standing at the top of the grand marble staircase, she grabbed my wrist, screamed, and intentionally threw herself down the steps in front of hundreds of elite guests. Lying in a pool of her own blood, she pointed a trembling finger at me. "She pushed me! Corrie tried to kill me!" The entire ballroom erupted in disgust. The guests called me a psychopath. My biological father, purple with rage, raised his hand to strike me, while my stepmother hid a victorious smirk behind her fake tears. They thought they had perfectly framed the feral country bumpkin. But they had no idea who they were dealing with. They didn't know I was "Night God," the dark web's most legendary underground surgeon and hacker, currently being hunted by New York's most ruthless billionaire. I didn't panic. I didn't cry. I calmly pulled out my heavily encrypted phone and projected a crystal-clear, un-hackable security feed onto the ballroom's massive LED screen. "Let's see the replay," I said. Watching the color drain from their faces was just the beginning. I was going to tear this entire toxic family apart to find out who really burned my mother alive.
Jilted Bride: Marrying My Ex's Rival

Jilted Bride: Marrying My Ex's Rival

I sat alone on a hard wooden bench in the City Clerk's Office, smoothing the white silk of my wedding dress. It was 10:00 AM, the exact moment I was supposed to marry Arland Rhodes. But Arland never showed up. Instead, a breaking news alert flashed on my phone, showing a high-resolution photo of my fiancé at the airport, tenderly cradling his "first love," Emilie Blackburn, in his arms. Seven years of my life were erased in a single paparazzi shot. When I finally saw him, he didn't apologize; he just said Emilie had a panic attack and needed him. My own mother called me a humiliation to the family reputation, and Arland's assistant tried to buy my silence with a pink diamond necklace. That night, Arland moved Emilie into our penthouse, telling me to be "reasonable" because she had security issues. "It's just logistics, Isolde. Don't make this into something it isn't." He thought I was the perfect, drama-free partner who would wait forever. He didn't notice when I began systematically dismantling our life, replacing my priceless antiques with cheap replicas and liquidating my shares in his company. He was too busy playing hero to a woman who faked heart palpitations every time he looked at me. He truly believed he could fix a lifetime of neglect with a "do-over" date and a silver convertible he had actually ordered for her. I realized then that Arland didn't love me; he loved that I was convenient. I had spent seven years building a life on a foundation of sand, and I was done being the silent, understanding fiancée. On the morning he finally showed up at City Hall to "make it up to me," I was nowhere to be found. I had already coerced fifteen million dollars out of him as a "security fee" and signed a marriage contract with his most ruthless rival, Esequiel Stone. As Arland stood at the altar waiting for a bride who would never come, I was boarding a private jet to the Capital. The hunt had officially begun, and this time, I wasn't the prey.
Substitute Bride: Sold To The Ruthless Biker

Substitute Bride: Sold To The Ruthless Biker

I woke up with a shattered rib and memories that weren't mine, transmigrating into the body of Annelise Roman, the abused, hidden daughter of a wealthy family. My new parents were swapping me out for my golden-child sister, Brielle. I was being sold as a human sacrifice to appease the Iron Wraiths, a notorious motorcycle club led by a ruthless, disfigured president. My "brother" Sean had kicked me so hard my ribs snapped, while my parents watched coldly. Brielle pretended to cry while secretly gloating, eventually gifting me a box of shredded maid's rags to humiliate me before I was sent to the wolves. In my past life as an underground trauma surgeon, I had read the biker gang's federal file. They were apex predators, and this arrangement was supposed to be a brutal death sentence. "And don't do anything to embarrass this family further. Brielle has already sacrificed her reputation because of this mess. The least you can do is make yourself useful to those animals." The original Annelise died terrified and broken, starved in an attic while her family wore Prada. They expected me to go quietly, to be the perfect, silent punching bag and bleed out in the desert just to save their precious reputation. But they didn't realize the terrified girl was gone. Before the bikers arrived, I dragged my battered body to my "father's" desk, forced him to sever our legal ties, and extorted a $2.5 million payout. When the towering bikers finally came to collect their property, I walked out with my head held high, ready to conquer this lawless wasteland.
The Billionaire's Rival: My Sweet Revenge

The Billionaire's Rival: My Sweet Revenge

I had spent two years playing the perfect Stepford Wife to billionaire Brittain Kane, acting as the obedient accessory while he built his empire. I played the fool until I found his second phone, the one filled with messages and photos of a nineteen-year-old hostess. Determined to balance the scales, I checked into the Pierre Hotel and spent twenty-five thousand dollars to hire a high-end male escort. I wanted one night of rebellion to wash away the two years of humiliation and finally even the score. But when the heavy footsteps stopped outside my door, the man who walked in wasn’t the professional I had booked. It was Harrison Juarez—my husband’s most ruthless business rival and supposed "best friend." He stood there in a suit that cost more than my car, holding a screenshot of my scandalous booking on his phone. My blood turned to ice as I realized my carefully constructed exit plan was over. He had the proof, the leverage, and the power to leave me with nothing in a divorce. He mocked my "cheap courage" and told me that sleeping with a hired hand wouldn't hurt a man like Brittain; he’d just pay the guy off and buy me a new car to shut me up. The fear inside me snapped, replaced by a cold, hard clarity. I looked at the man who held my life in his hands and realized he wasn't there to expose me. He was there because he was petty, effective, and wanted to destroy Brittain just as much as I did. "If you really want to make Brittain Kane lose his mind," Harrison whispered, his voice rough against my ear, "you don't need a gigolo. You need me." I didn't hesitate. I reached into my bag, pulled out my husband’s black Centurion card, and tossed it at my husband's greatest enemy. I told him to book the most expensive penthouse in the city, because if I was going to ruin my marriage, I was going to do it on Brittain’s dime with the one man he feared most.
The Billionaire's Genius Wife's Ultimate Cold Revenge

The Billionaire's Genius Wife's Ultimate Cold Revenge

My five-year-old daughter was turning blue in my arms, her body rigid with a 104-degree fever. I called my billionaire husband, Clifton, dozens of times as I rushed to the hospital, but he declined every single call. While I was screaming at doctors and fighting to save our child’s life, a news alert flashed on my phone. Clifton was at the Met Gala, looking devastatingly handsome as he intimately draped his tuxedo jacket over the shoulders of his mistress, Eleanora. The nightmare didn't end at the hospital. Clifton used a secret clause in our prenup to snatch Lily from her bed and move her to a private facility without my consent. When I finally found her, my own daughter shrank away from me in terror. "Go away, bad Mommy!" she sobbed, while the mistress fed her oatmeal and whispered that I was the one who made the doctors hurt her. Clifton stood by and watched, telling me I was too "hysterical" to be a mother. But then I discovered the real reason they were hiding her. My husband was illegally using my late mother’s rare bone marrow samples to treat Eleanora’s secret blood disorder. Now that those samples are failing, he is taking Lily to a secluded castle in Germany to harvest our daughter’s marrow for his mistress. I sat in the dark, watching them play happy family with the child they plan to sacrifice. I realized then that my marriage wasn't just a lie—it was a biological harvest. They think I’m just a broken trophy wife who doesn't understand the science they are using to destroy me. They have no idea that I am "Ghost," the anonymous medical genius behind the very research they are trying to steal. As we board the private jet to Germany, I’ve stopped crying and started calculating. If they want to play with life and death, I’ll show them exactly what happens when a mother stops being a victim and starts being a predator.
Taming My Time-Traveling Lover in My Bed: The Savage King

Taming My Time-Traveling Lover in My Bed: The Savage King

I bought an antique four-poster bed at Sotheby's, said to be the final resting place of a long-dead European king. A week later, I woke up to the thick smell of blood, only to find a massive, heavily wounded man in my bed holding a forged steel sword to my throat. He was dressed in ruined velvet and gold, bleeding out from a massive abdominal gash. When I tried to save him with modern medicine, he called it sorcery and nearly choked me to death. He destroyed my expensive appliances, treating my home like a witch's lair. I thought he was a lunatic cosplayer who broke in, until he tossed me a massive ruby ring as a down payment for my help. I looked it up online. It was the lost coronation ring of King Cain the Cruel, valued at thirty million dollars. I was terrified of this savage who could snap my neck in an instant. I couldn't comprehend how a tyrant who had been dead for 135 years was breathing in my attic, until he lay back down on the antique mattress and literally vanished into thin air before my eyes. The bed was a time portal. The police would lock him in a psych ward and confiscate the priceless artifact, leaving me with nothing but bloodstained sheets and trauma. "I can give you more wealth than you can imagine." So, when he reappeared and offered me the lost Fabergé eggs of his fallen empire in exchange for modern shelter, I didn't call 911. I took his hand and became the 21st-century gatekeeper for a time-traveling king.
The Ruined Heiress's Fake Pregnancy Bargain

The Ruined Heiress's Fake Pregnancy Bargain

Clare woke up to a frozen bank account, a bankrupt family empire, and a suicide note from her father. To save her father from jumping off a skyscraper, she cornered New York's most ruthless billionaire, Edward Carlisle, with a fake pregnancy test. "I'm carrying your child." She bet everything on a brief encounter from a yacht party weeks ago, hoping to force him into a marriage that would save her family. But instead of offering a ring, the cold-blooded tycoon dragged her straight to a clinic to forcefully terminate the "problem." Even after seeing through her desperate lie, Edward didn't let her go. He forced her into a humiliating contract marriage just to destroy his grandfather's arranged match. He paid off a fraction of her family's billion-dollar debt—just enough to keep her on a tight leash, treating her like a cheap, disposable shield. She was paraded in front of high society, forced to publicly ruin his engagement, and stripped of every ounce of her dignity. She knew he planned to throw her away the second his family stopped pressuring him. Why should she just sit and wait to be discarded by this monster? Wiping her tears, Clare looked into the eyes of the man who thought he completely owned her. "Stop treating me like a liability." She refused to be his obedient pawn. Instead, she proposed a dangerous new alliance to help him destroy his own family—and the real transaction officially began.
Betrayed By Fiancé, Claimed By His Uncle

Betrayed By Fiancé, Claimed By His Uncle

Clare Lynch thought she was celebrating her fairy-tale engagement. She happily drank the pink cocktail her best friend, Brianna, handed her. But the drink was laced with a powerful, burning drug. As Clare's legs gave out, she overheard Brianna whispering outside the door. Her best friend had hired two thugs to assault her on camera and completely ruin her life. Terrified and gasping for air, Clare hid in the VIP room and called her fiancé, Jaren, for help. "I feel sick. Something is wrong. Please come get me." But Jaren just sighed impatiently, busy comforting his mistress in the background. "Stop throwing tantrums for attention. Grow up." Jaren hung up the phone. When Clare finally escaped and begged her grandmother to cancel the wedding, the matriarch coldly refused. She told Clare that marriage was just a business transaction, and she had to endure Jaren's cheating because their family needed the Bolton's money. Betrayed by her best friend, abandoned by her fiancé, and sold out by her own blood. Clare's world completely collapsed. She was nothing but a bargaining chip, thrown to the monsters by the people she loved most. The sheer injustice of it burned her soul to ash. With her last ounce of strength, Clare made a desperate choice. She called Aurthur Bolton—Jaren's ruthless, terrifying uncle. When the most dangerous man in New York kicked down the door to save her, Clare made a silent vow. She was done playing the perfect victim. She would let the devil claim her, as long as he helped her burn her abusers to the ground.