Modern Books for Women
Bestsellers Ongoing Completed
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The Weekend Wife's Escape
My world shattered when my fiancé Ethan’s “work wife,” Chloe, announced her pregnancy with his baby at his Vegas bachelor party. Then came his outrageous "solution": he'd live with her during the week to "support the baby," and I'd be his "weekend wife" at our Hamptons home, our wedding indefinitely postponed. Eight years of my life, discarded like trash. His family’s snickers about my "new money" and "frivolous" Art History degree, his casual critiques – it all swirled into a bitter cocktail. I was expected to be “mature,” to accept being his mere diversion. The humiliation deepened when Chloe began taunting me on social media, proclaiming her "blessed" new life with *my* fiancé. The final blow came at the alumni gala: Chloe faked a fall, and Ethan, in a fit of rage, *slapped me in front of everyone*, his loyalties clear. He truly believed I'd crawl back. But just as I thought I’d drown in despair, a drunken call from my childhood friend, Noah, brought a lifeline: "Marry me, Ava." In that desperate, raw moment, I said yes. I ripped off Ethan’s ring and walked out, not just from him, but from the gilded cage he’d trapped me in. This wasn't a tantrum; it was my defiant escape. And I was going to burn every bridge on the way out./0/85840/coverorgin.jpg?v=5eebd7e3517ac5492bc56ae1565f8446&imageMogr2/format/webp)
His Mother, My Vengeance
The last thing I remembered was the splintering pain as I tumbled down the stairs. My mother-in-law, Martha, stood at the top, her face a mask of cold satisfaction. "You should have just stayed in your place, Sarah. None of this had to happen." Her words were crueler than the impact that shattered my bones. My vision blurred to a dark red. The last image in my mind wasn't of her, but of my daughter, Lily, her tiny body limp in my arms. Lily was dead because of Martha. And now, so was I. My husband, Mark, would believe his mother. He always did. My death would be just another inconvenience for them. Then, a sudden, blinding light. I shot up, drenched in sweat. My room was familiar. My hands were whole. No pain. My phone buzzed. October 12th. The day Lily died. Pure terror washed over me. This had to be a dream. But the room was real. My frantic heartbeat was real. I had come back. I was given a second chance. Not for forgiveness. Not for reconciliation. A chance for revenge. The submissive Sarah was gone, shattered at the bottom of those stairs. The woman who woke up was forged in betrayal and grief. Lily was downstairs with Martha. Martha, who in a few hours, would give my peanut-allergic daughter a "special" peanut cookie. The same Martha who dismissed Lily' s deadly allergy as "just a little sensitivity." They didn' t believe me. Or they didn' t care. The result was the same. My daughter died. Not this time. I ran. The smell of sweet, nutty death filled the air. I burst into the kitchen, just as Martha offered Lily the cookies. "No!" I ripped the plate from her hand, shattering it in the sink. "You will never, ever eat Grandma's cookies," I told Lily, holding her close. "They will make you very, very sick." Martha puffed out her chest. "Peanut isn't going to kill anyone. It builds up tolerance." The same words she'd used before. The same excuses that put my daughter in a casket. But I wasn't that woman anymore. "You are a stupid, stubborn old woman," I said, cold and clear. "Your 'wisdom' is going to get someone killed." I knew all their secrets now. The game had changed. And I was making the rules./1/104769/coverorgin.jpg?v=a6bb2c9751a94b18a5b7da088f379ef6&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Genius Wife's Revenge: Too Late For Regret
For two years, I played the role of the "Midwestern mistake," the mousey wife Julian Ford-Sterling IV kept hidden like a shameful secret. I hid my true self behind thick glasses and ashen foundation, acting as the perfect, cowed charity case while he lived a life of marble and indifference. The day our marriage contract ended, the headlines were already screaming about his affair with Hollywood’s sweetheart, Lana Vane. Julian didn't even grant me a final conversation; he simply sent his legal team to hand me divorce papers that gave me nothing—no alimony, no shares, just a non-disclosure agreement and a one-way ticket out of his life. I signed the papers and walked away, but a drugged encounter in a dark club that same night led me back into his arms. We collided in the shadows, two strangers stripped of their titles, but I fled before dawn, accidentally leaving behind my vintage silver locket. By the time I reached my secret design studio the next morning, I discovered Julian had executed a hostile takeover of my entire life’s work. To my horror, Lana Vane was already there, clutching my stolen locket and shamelessly claiming she was the woman Julian had spent the night with. Julian stood before me in his charcoal suit, looking at me with total lack of recognition. To him, I was just a "gold-digging" architect he had bought along with the furniture. I watched them together, the man who had discarded me and the woman who had stolen my identity, realizing that Julian was obsessed with the genius of "Rose" while despising the woman who stood right in front of him. He had no idea that the wife he’d just divorced was the very person he was now desperate to control. I straightened my spine, my violet-blue eyes cold and lethal behind my new designer frames. "Mr. Ford-Sterling, you wanted the best designer in the city? You’ve got her. But you should know—I don't just build empires. I know exactly how to tear them down."/0/82555/coverorgin.jpg?v=e77a4ad1dc46638d8f378e3d49bad017&imageMogr2/format/webp)
A Second Sight of Vengeance
Ten years. That' s how long I' d navigated a world painted by touch and sound. My hands, once destined for university papers, now kneaded muscles as a Licensed Massage Therapist. It wasn' t the life I planned after the mysterious incident that stole my sight, but it was a life. Until today. The afternoon rush ended, and the clinic settled. Then, loud, careless voices drifted from the waiting area. Kevin Miller, an old student from that last proctored exam, bragged. But it was the other voice, smooth and arrogant-Ethan Vance-that chilled me. He chimed in, "The real reason that TA went dark? The culprit was right there in the exam room with him. I' d know." My breath caught. They were talking about my blindness. A chilling certainty settled in my gut. Barely had I finished my last client when Ethan Vance ambushed me. A hand clamped over my mouth, a cold, sharp object pressed against my side. "You heard too much, Mr. Davis," Ethan' s voice whispered, colder, devoid of smoothness. A searing pain. Then, darkness, deeper than any blindness I had known. He murdered me. But then, a gasp tore from my throat. My eyes flew open. Light. Blinding, painful light. I could see. Fluorescent lights. Desks. Students. It was the exam hall. Ten years ago. I was back. My vision, crystal clear, a painful paradox after a decade of blindness and the fresh memory of my murder. Ethan Vance. He was here, in this room. The killer. The "culprit" who, in mere minutes, was about to destroy my life. He thought he' d silenced me, but now I was back. The clock on the wall showed 8:58 AM. Two minutes until my world went black in my first life. I had to stop it. This time, everything would be different./0/35624/coverorgin.jpg?v=15fe4978625169ab2570ea2e083df872&imageMogr2/format/webp)
My Quadruplets Father is a Mafia Boss
The woman with a secret to keep, if love is pure, even if it hurts, will endure for the beloved, pretend so that she is not hated by everyone, but as a result, she is rejected by the people she loves, especially her husband. The woman is stunned by love. Strongest in the whole world but weak when it comes to love. She is Charmaine Wextricca the woman who will do everything just to make her husband love her. But what if the one she loves, loves someone else. What will she do? and she was kicked out by her own family, can she handle it all? What if she found out she was pregnant? what will she do, will it go away? For the good of her and all? She will return, to her former self, as one of the strongest women in the world. Let's follow the story of our heroine, Charmaine Wextricca with her beloved husband Kibb Monteverde, who did nothing but drive her away and hurt her./1/100389/coverorgin.jpg?v=8add53f5c2a4ea6b0f3fa917b83bce94&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Contractual Wife's Silent Comeback
My husband told me I was a contractual obligation, an irritant he was forced to endure after a car crash stole his memory of our love five years ago. He replaced me with a social media influencer, a woman whose lies were as polished as her feed. But when her baby was found with a small cut on her lip, she tearfully accused me of being a jealous monster who attacked an innocent child. My husband, the man I had stood by through everything, didn't hesitate. In a blind rage, he ordered a guard to take a needle and thread and sew my lips shut. "She needs to see nothing. Hear nothing. Say nothing," he commanded, his voice devoid of mercy. He then had me hung upside down in the lobby of my own wellness retreat, a public spectacle for the world to condemn. As I dangled there, bleeding and broken, I finally understood. My blind love and foolish hope had been my downfall. I had loved the wrong man, and he had utterly destroyed me. But they made one fatal mistake. They didn't know about the hidden camera I' d planted in the baby's room. And they had no idea that my family could crush his entire empire with a single phone call./0/58777/coverorgin.jpg?v=2441169672279a7f9bfa90e3eb197e31&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Unveiling Hearts: My Wife Is A Billionaire Tycoon?!
Melanie married Ashton out of gratitude, but she quickly found herself entangled in a web of relentless challenges. Despite these struggles, she stayed true to her commitment to the marriage. In the hospital room, Ashton indifferently attempted to draw her blood, disregarding her discomfort. This callous act was a harsh revelation for Melanie, awakening her to the grim reality of their relationship. Resolved to prioritize her own welfare, she decided to sever ties. With newfound resolve, Melanie filed for divorce. In the process, she unveiled her concealed identities, leaving everyone in shock. Throughout these turbulent times, Melanie realized that Derek, Ashton’s uncle, had been discreetly protecting her all along./1/103518/coverorgin.jpg?v=421b1207be2a6d94e3a47abc5cd13e0c&imageMogr2/format/webp)
From Political Wife To Power Player
I was the perfect political wife, the brilliant strategist behind my husband Hamilton' s mayoral campaign. Our life was a masterpiece of ambition and domestic bliss. Then, a single message on his laptop shattered it all: a hotel key card, a winking devil emoji, and a note about their next "policy discussion." My first thought was our rebellious daughter, Bryanna. But the truth was far worse. The affair was with a young staffer, Kalie. And Bryanna wasn't a victim; she was an accomplice. I overheard her telling Hamilton that Kalie "gets him" and that I was just a "drama queen." She was covering for them, idolizing the woman destroying our family. My own daughter saw me as an obstacle, a burden. She and my husband were in on the lie together, laughing at me behind my back. They thought I was a fool. They were wrong. They broke the wife, but they unleashed the strategist. On election eve, in front of the entire city and live television cameras, I decided I would introduce the world to the real Hamilton Fields./0/92411/coverorgin.jpg?v=f7cec820e106425c4520fa5cab035020&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Boy They Loved Was The Underworld Queen
Heiress to a crime syndicate, Avery had hunted her father's killer for years. Disguised as a boy, she slipped into the Hudson household as their youngest "son," expecting a den of wolves, yet finding open arms. An eldest brother who ruled boardrooms, a second who breathed textbooks, and a third who commanded the cameras. She juggled lies, outsmarting them all-until her mask was tore away. "Avery's a girl?" "She owns a thousand cars and billions?" "She's not even family?" As love closed around her, she realized the murderer was her supposed "best bud." Her brothers bristled. "Back off, punk. Not our Avery!"/0/83807/coverorgin.jpg?v=0316212b3b89ac2c7c435a90829539cc&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Betrayed Heiress's Reckoning
The smell of caramelized sugar and burnt citrus always brought me back to my death. Just last week, I was a culinary prodigy, heir to the prestigious Dubois family legacy, preparing for the Golden Ladle competition. My life's work, a revolutionary food preservation formula, was my secret weapon. Then, disaster struck. My formula was stolen, claimed by the self-proclaimed "goddess" of food blogging, Isabella. My own brother, Liam, provided the "proof" that I was the thief. My boyfriend, Marcus, watched silently. My father, the patriarch, disowned me. The shame and stress killed me. But now, I' m back. One week before the competition deadline, reliving the nightmare. My hands tremble, not from fear, but from a cold, pure rage. The formula, the same one that sealed my fate, is still on my laptop, a ticking time bomb. I quickly realize this isn't just about a stolen recipe. It's bigger. My "best friend" Brenda is involved, feeding Isabella my ideas in real-time. Marcus and Liam are working with Isabella, too. My entire world is a betrayal. But the most crushing blow? My own father, the man whose honor I was meant to uphold, was behind it all. Years ago, they implanted a device in my brain to steal my thoughts, my genius, my very soul. My life wasn't my own; it was a carefully constructed cage. How could my family, those closest to me, violate me so completely? The injustice burned hotter than any flame in a professional kitchen. They didn't just want my talent; they literally wanted my mind on a leash. But they forgot one thing: I came back. And this time, I' m changing the rules of their twisted game. I' ll make them pay, and I' ll take everything./1/104926/coverorgin.jpg?v=fe09b9380a178076cb81274b95c1c124&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Too Late, Doctor: I'm The One Who's Out Of Reach Now
Leanna's doctor for the lump was Shane-her first love. Ten years ago, his friends had mocked her as the "fat, ugly girl." She'd scrimped to gift him a violin, only to see him toss it away. "A cheap violin? I've got better at home. If you like it, take one." She remade herself, shed the weight, and changed her name. Their reunion blindsided her, but he snapped first. "Leanna, where do you think you're going?" She had a fiancé and was planning a wedding. She smiled. "Toying with me-now you're serious?" He bowed. "Always. I want you for life." He crowded her against his desk, voice rough. "Leave him. You belong with me."/0/77706/coverorgin.jpg?v=d66ce7f40fa1c8ea9311d1c29b4535d4&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Trapped In The Tyrannical CEO's Love
Carrying a child left Adeline trapped in marriage to the ruthless and unhinged Waylon, and everyone doubted she'd survive to see the baby's first breath. Filled with dread but determined, she carefully won him over and soon became his lethal obsession. Yet on the day she planned to escape, Waylon drove their car to a cliff's edge, foot hovering over the gas. "I'm sorry, love-did you just say divorce?" His fingers skimmed her cheek, his tone a deadly whisper. "Defy me, and you pay." Later, drenched in blood and rain, he knelt before her, trembling, and pleaded, "Tell me how to keep you here."/0/81617/coverorgin.jpg?v=3478ffe5afdbb8ce156c357b1ec179a3&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Phoenix Artist
Sarah Miller, an acclaimed artist, was finally returning to New York for her biggest solo exhibition, "Echoes in Sterling," ready to embrace a future with her kind and steady fiancé, Liam Chen. But a single shocking headline-"Vanderbilt Heir Embroiled in New Scandal"-ripped through her carefully constructed peace, dragging her back to a past she' d fought for years to bury. Years ago, she' d saved an injured, amnesiac man she called 'Leo,' building a world of pure, selfless love in her cramped Brooklyn studio, his devotion marked by her initials tattooed over his heart. Yet, when his memory returned, revealing him as Ethan Vanderbilt, scion of a powerful real estate empire, that tender love shattered under the weight of his family' s expectations and a pre-arranged engagement to the formidable Isabelle Harrington. The cruel denouement came at a lavish gala: Isabelle, with Ethan watching, orchestrated the public destruction of Sarah' s art and even tore her deceased grandmother' s cherished locket from her neck. Ethan, the man who once promised her the world, stood by, dismissing her despair as "making a scene," his betrayal complete. With nothing left but a two-million-dollar check, a chilling price for her silence, Sarah fled New York, vowing to transform her agony into art. Now, she' s back, a celebrated artist on her own terms, but the city that broke her whispers with old ghosts, and the man who betrayed her has evolved into something far more dangerous, obsessed with a warped form of atonement./0/84120/coverorgin.jpg?v=9f38703ee573e107174f0ec8e96cd10a&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Erase Me? I'll Erase You
The air in the upstairs hallway was thick with the scent of expensive perfume, and I paused, my hand hovering over my bedroom door. For three decades, I was the unseen force behind my husband, the Governor of Texas, building his dynasty brick by painful brick. But then, voices from my son' s room shredded that illusion: my daughters-in-law, their hushed tones revealing a chilling plot. "Stress-induced heart failure within five years," one whispered, detailing my supposed "natural decline" as a pre-programmed exit for a new woman, Sabrina, my husband' s dead college sweetheart' s daughter. My breath hitched-they were discussing a "system" and a payoff for my demise, orchestrated by my own husband and sons. The family I built, the sons I raised, saw me as nothing more than a placeholder, destined to conveniently die so a younger, 'fresher' face could inherit my life. A cold dread, sharp and sickening, turned into a burning rage that pulsed through my veins. They wanted me gone? They wanted a compliant, tragic matriarch? I ripped open the door to Andrew' s room, my voice dangerously calm as I asked, "Tell me more about this 'system' ." They were speechless, frozen in fear, but I wasn't going to die quietly for their convenience. I was going to burn their carefully constructed world down./0/80522/coverorgin.jpg?v=9b2293c9e4abc74b3cfecd930172dc2b&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Her Quiet Vengeance
My husband, Michael, stumbled home one day, not with a briefcase, but a bundle. A baby, he claimed, "found" at a gas station. His too-loud voice, his darting eyes, the wads of cash he pressed into my hand—I saw through the charade immediately. My suspicions, honed by years of his subtle lies and secret Vegas trips, solidified. He wanted me to raise this child, a "blessing" he called it, while he preened as a selfless savior. For eighteen years, I endured Michael's arrogance, his mother’s thinly veiled disdain for my childlessness, and his endless stream of deceit. He believed me a naive, devoted wife, blissfully unaware of his true connections to the baby's birth mother, a woman named Jessica. He bragged about Ethan, "his" son, never knowing I was painstakingly uncovering every detail of his betrayal—the secret payments, the fabricated narratives, the hidden identity of Ethan’s real father, a man with dangerous ties. The injustice of his blatant lies, how he’d used me to build his perfect family facade, fueled a cold, quiet rage within me. I smiled, I nodded, I played the part of the perfect mother to Ethan, the brilliant son I adored. But beneath that placid surface, I was a strategist, meticulously gathering my evidence, waiting for the opportune moment. When Ethan was accepted into Yale, Michael decided it was time for his grand reveal: divorcing me to "reunite" with Jessica and "his" long-lost son at a lavish party. He thought he was orchestrating his ultimate triumph. He had no idea he was stepping into a meticulously crafted trap, two decades in the making, set by the wife he completely underestimated./1/106647/coverorgin.jpg?v=4e7167e5aa91ef43d5e1607ffb3febea&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Stoic Billionaire's Secret Family Exposed
I lived in a sanitized mansion kept at a constant sixty-five degrees, governed by a legal contract that dictated everything from our intimacy schedule to my "modest" wardrobe. My husband, Cedrick Fields, was a world-renowned stoic who preached discipline and emotional detachment, treating our marriage like a corporate merger and me like a line-item expense he was tired of paying. The illusion of his "virtuous" life shattered when I found his hidden tablet. I expected corporate secrets, but instead, I found a folder titled "Sanctuary." It was filled with photos of him laughing on yachts and playing with a toddler who undeniably had his eyes. He wasn't a cold machine; he was a devoted father and a passionate lover to socialite Julianna Baird. When I tried to fight back, his assistant threatened to cut the funding for my mother's ventilator, forcing me to sign a document admitting I was "mentally unstable." Then, Cedrick did the unthinkable: he moved his mistress and secret child into our home, relegating me to the servants' quarters and ordering me to play the "reclusive aunt" to protect his public image. I was forced to watch them play "happy family" in the rooms I once decorated, realizing even my own step-family had been on his payroll for years, helping him hide the betrayal. They all knew about his second life while I was being starved of affection and dignity in a house that felt more like a prison every day. But Cedrick's arrogance was his ultimate downfall. He was so distracted by moving Julianna into the master suite that he didn't bother to read the stack of NDAs I placed on his desk. Hidden among the corporate jargon was a petition for the dissolution of our marriage. He signed it without even looking up from his phone, unknowingly handing me the legal victory I needed. I didn't just leave that night; I walked out with his signature on a divorce and a folder full of evidence that would burn his "stoic" reputation to the ground./0/26082/coverorgin.jpg?v=debbf710e4526a62b22ecbae62c691e5&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The destiny of Marina
Marina A greek girl or left, who lived in his aunt is hunted in the middle of his day by his aunt one day because they are not given to an old. Do not know where to go get a bush under a shed, heels the owner of the hangar a young man would have pity on her and hooved him. Thus, starting with his calvary of life, will find you happiness? Come discover the story and appreciate./0/19981/coverorgin.jpg?v=8129e08c5be673a953fc32d0071ef17d&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Who is The Better CEO?
With a fire at home that killed her mother, Maryanne found herself thrown into a highly conniving life. Her fiance had joined forces with her best friend and she was not sure if they were simply after her wealth or life. Will she survive or lose everything that her family owned? Who is behind the fire? Who can she trust? Where did her brother Drew disappear to? Is he alive or dead?/0/85841/coverorgin.jpg?v=f709ef8501c52a1f76aca660058ae164&imageMogr2/format/webp)
A Wife's Vengeance, Two Lives
The sterile air of the lawyer's office hung heavy, reeking of a marriage ending and a family dividing. My twin brother, Liam, and I sat between our polished, successful parents, feeling like assets on a ledger. My father, Dr. Richard Miller, the celebrated surgeon, offered a brilliant, practiced smile. "We're going to let you choose who you want to live with." Liam' s chest puffed out, eyes already on our wealthy father. But a cold, bitter knot twisted inside me. I had lived this "choice" before. I had made the wrong one. I looked at my ten-year-old reflection in my mother's sympathetic eyes. "So we can really choose? Freely?" My father's gaze was fixed on Liam, dismissing me. He thought I'd follow like a lost puppy. He was wrong. "I choose Mom." The words sliced through the silence, shattering his charming facade. His voice, smooth a moment ago, turned sharp, like a scalpel. "Chloe, what? Don't be silly. You'll come with me, with your brother. You'll have the best of everything." He promised horses, schools, a life shimmering with gold. I looked at the man who had been my world, the man who had destroyed me with that same persuasive voice. "You said I could choose freely. Were you lying, Dad?" Then to my esteemed principal mother: "Are you going to tell me my choice is wrong because my brother wants something different?" She flinched. My father' s face darkened, the mask gone. He stood abruptly, chair scraping. "Fine. Let's go, son." He grabbed Liam, not looking at me as they left. In my last life, I chose him. He saw a tool, a test subject. He performed unethical experiments on me, documenting my pain, calling it "pushing boundaries." I endured, craving his approval, only to hear him declare me "compromised," my purpose "served." I died, a lab rat. Liam knew. He saw my sickness, my scars, but he said nothing, enjoying the spoils of my suffering. "Dad's just trying to make you better," he'd said, not looking up from his phone. When I opened my eyes in that lawyer' s office again, ten years old, there was no hesitation. Only a vow. I would not be their victim. I would be the architect of their ruin. Richard, Sarah, Liam. They would all pay. This new life wasn't a gift. It was a chance for revenge./1/114469/coverorgin.jpg?v=c9753e545e358dbbff5d1652e26cdbd2&imageMogr2/format/webp)
