Modern Books for Women
Bestsellers Ongoing Completed
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Incubator No More: The Billionaire's Secret Heir
I sat in the VIP waiting room of the fertility clinic, clutching the report that confirmed my implantation was a success. After years of struggling, I finally had a reason to make my marriage with Garnett work. But when I went to find him in the lounge, I heard a woman’s laughter coming from behind the door. It was his mistress, Alison. I froze as I heard Garnett’s cold, dismissive voice. "She’s just an incubator." "Once the heir is born, we kick her out. The trust fund only requires a legitimate heir born to my wife. It doesn't require the wife to stick around afterwards." The betrayal went deeper than I could have imagined. I soon discovered the clinic had botched the procedure—the baby I was carrying wasn't even Garnett’s. It was donor sperm from Sterling Sharp, the most powerful tech mogul in the world. When my in-laws forced me to move into their estate for "monitoring," I realized I was entering a cage. Garnett and his mistress were paying the family doctor to inject me with hallucinogens to mimic a mental breakdown. They planned to declare me legally incompetent and commit me to an asylum the second I gave birth. I stood in the shadows of the East Wing, realizing my husband wasn't just stealing my child—he was trying to delete my mind. The people I called family were poisoning me daily, waiting for me to break so they could claim a legacy that wasn't even theirs. They wanted a madwoman, so I decided to give them one. I turned the doctor into my double agent, faked every symptom of a breakdown, and began building a secret empire from the shadows. Garnett thinks he’s trapped an incubator, but he’s actually locked himself in with a nuclear weapon./1/104382/coverorgin.jpg?v=83d4271de046a04ee2251c6ca93ee74c&imageMogr2/format/webp)
My Wickedly Charming Professor: Married On Paper, Obsessed In Class
At sixteen, Liz Navarro lost her parents and faced the world alone. Bound by her father's will, she was married at eighteen to a stranger appointed to watch her life-stay wed until twenty-five, earn a law degree, then claim the family empire. Wealth kept her sheltered, and duty kept her caged, until Criminal Law's new professor arrived. Henry McNight was older, magnetic, and dangerous-and he didn't know the quiet student in his class was the bride he'd agreed to marry for his uncle. When Liz became a target, Henry raced to shield her as secrets, betrayals, and family power plays closed in./0/83942/coverorgin.jpg?v=07b779603f7b0f8f07b7b710d69bead1&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Second Chance Trap
The smell of burnt coffee and cheap vanilla filled my lungs, my hands shaking behind the counter of "The Daily Grind." Just moments ago, I was on a rooftop, the white of my wedding dress stained with grime, watching my fiancé declare his love for my best friend, Molly. My mother collapsed, her heart giving out from the shock, and I saw her fall before I turned and jumped. Yet here I was, alive, the calendar showing weeks before that catastrophic wedding day, the memory of my mother's lifeless body still fresh in my mind. Molly walked in, her fake-sweet smile exactly as I remembered, still utterly oblivious to the hatred now burning ice-cold in my stomach. She started her tale of a "Karmic App," claiming any man I liked would fall for her instead, her crocodile tears perfected. This was the lie she told me the first time, covering her tracks as she systematically stole every relationship and piece of joy from my life. I stared at her, the woman who orchestrated my downfall, consumed by a rage so pure it threatened to shatter me. Why was I back? Why was I given this impossible second chance, only to relive the agony that killed my mother and drove me to jump? Then it hit me: The app wasn't a curse; it was her weapon, and this time, I wasn't just back-I was going to be the one to erase her./0/18079/coverorgin.jpg?v=0f2c4f178579ddbf2fad2b04a58e7312&imageMogr2/format/webp)
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The Monster Behind His Mask
My husband Declan' s recklessness on a ski slope left me with chronic pain and unable to have children. He played the part of my devoted caretaker, but his perfect facade shattered when a stray cat, abandoned by our new neighbor, purred against his leg with a chilling familiarity. That whisper of betrayal led me to her apartment, where I found his pregnant mistress, Bridgett. She smirked, calling me Declan's "perpetually ill wife" and flaunted the baby I could never give him. When I demanded a divorce, both our families turned on me, calling me hysterical and greedy. Declan dropped to his knees, begging for forgiveness, but his "love" felt like a cage built on my pain and his lies. The truth, however, was far more monstrous. Bridgett later appeared on my doorstep, terrified, revealing Declan had forced her to lose their baby-a twisted "proof of love" meant to win me back. As he pounded on my door, confessing his crime and screaming that I was his, I realized I hadn't just married a cheater. I had married a monster./0/85889/coverorgin.jpg?v=44dc28064412352893414143ece52e52&imageMogr2/format/webp)
His Deal, My Son's Death
The dull ache in my eight-year-old son, Leo' s, stomach quickly sharpened into something terrifying. His small body trembled, his face pale and beaded with sweat, as he whimpered, "It hurts, Mommy. It really hurts." Panic seized me as I dialed my husband, Ethan, only for him to pick up on the fourth try, irritated, "What, Olivia? I' m in the middle of something huge." He dismissed Leo' s 103-degree fever and my fear of appendicitis, declaring, "Give him some Tylenol. I can' t leave right now, this is a billion-dollar deal." Alone, I rushed Leo to the emergency room, enduring endless hours in a sterile waiting room. The doctor' s words shattered my world: "There were complications during the appendectomy. His appendix had ruptured. We did everything we could, but Leo didn' t make it." My vibrant, artistic boy was gone because his father was too busy. Just as the news began to sink in, Ethan called, his voice cheerful, "The meeting went great, we secured the funding. Is Leo feeling any better?" I choked out the words, "Leo' s dead, Ethan." He laughed, disbelieving, "That' s not funny, Olivia. Don' t joke about things like that." Only when his parents arrived, called by the hospital, did the truth begin to dawn, but his phone buzzed with an Instagram post of him toasting with Dr. Evelyn Reed, his college sweetheart, captioned, "Celebrating the future of AI with the one and only Ethan Vance. To new beginnings!" Richard Vance, Ethan' s father, roared, "Your son is dead, and you' re celebrating?!" before lunging at Ethan. In the chaos, they wheeled Leo' s body away. I screamed, "Don' t take him! That' s my baby!" before collapsing into darkness. I woke in the Vance mansion, the memory of Leo' s still face crushing me. I wanted a divorce, a clean break from the man who had let our son die. My in-laws, Richard and Eleanor, surprisingly supported me, their kindness a small comfort in my ocean of pain. Then Ethan burst in, rumpled and sneering, "Done with your little drama yet?" He grabbed my arm, demanding, "Get up, Olivia. We' re going home. Enough of this nonsense." His touch was repulsive, and I flinched away, my voice low and dangerous, "Don' t touch me." He laughed, "Or what? You' ll cry some more? You' re always so emotional. It' s exhausting." He continued, clueless to the pain he caused, "Are you going to tell me again that my son is dead just to get my attention?" My voice, clear and steady, cut through his ignorant rage, "He is, Ethan. Leo is dead." He just stared, completely unbelieving, until Richard physically dragged him from the room. A few days later, after a private cremation, I clutched Leo' s ashes, his vibrant life reduced to a small, heavy box. I drove home, needing to gather Leo' s things before leaving for good. But from the master bedroom came a low, feminine laugh, followed by Ethan' s familiar murmur. Evelyn was here, in my house, in my bed, while our son' s ashes were still warm in my hands. She emerged, wearing my silk robe, a triumphant smirk on her face. "Well, look what the cat dragged in," she cooed, "I thought you' d be off crying in a corner somewhere." Ethan didn' t even acknowledge me, or the box in my arms. Evelyn explained, "Honestly, Olivia, it' s for the best. Now he can focus on what' s really important. Our work." I turned my back on them, walking numbly to Leo' s room. As I passed the kitchen, Ethan saw the box. "What' s that?" he asked casually, "Some kind of sentimental junk you' re taking with you?" I stopped, my grip on the box tightening as I turned to him, my voice shaking with rage, "It' s Leo." He just shrugged, taking a drink of water, completely unfazed. I gently placed Leo' s ashes on his nightstand, whispered, "I' m sorry, baby," and began packing. At the bottom of his art bin, I found his last project: a half-finished watercolor painting of a sunset. It was a beautiful, incomplete masterpiece, and it shattered me. I sank to the floor, clutching the painting, sobbing for my son, his stolen future, and all the sunsets he would never paint. After the storm of grief passed, a cold, hard resolve set in. I left the house, not looking back, having placed divorce papers, drawn up months ago, squarely on Ethan' s desk. A text from Evelyn popped up on my phone, smug and petty, "Leaving so soon? Don' t let the door hit you on the way out. Ethan' s mine now. He always was." I crushed my phone under my car tire, the broken pieces a satisfying crunch on the asphalt. As I drove away, I saw Ethan watching me from the doorway, a flicker of confusion, maybe regret, on his face. But it was too late./1/106654/coverorgin.jpg?v=999b1756a993505a98994deeebbd7c75&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Sold To The Monster: My Silent Nightmare
I’ve spent eighteen hundred days as a silent ghost in the Crawford estate, a place where the air smells of expensive cigars and terror. My father, Senator Jed Bowen, sold me to Alek Crawford to pay off his gambling debts, trading his daughter’s life for a seat in the Senate. Alek doesn’t just want my service; he wants my complete submission. He tracks my every move through cameras and bruises my skin just to see if I’ll flinch. He thinks he owns me because he holds the contract, and his mother ensures I’m kept in my place with slaps and insults. When a scandal involving my half-sister and Alek’s brother hit the news, the house turned into a war zone. Alek cornered me in the dark, his hands stained with blood and ink, whispering that I was nothing but a receipt for his family's money. He’s been forcing me to take pills for years, believing they’ve kept me drugged and mute. "She needs to speak again," he told a surgeon over the phone. "Whatever it takes." He thinks he’s fixing a broken toy, but he’s actually planning to carve the silence into my throat permanently. He has no idea that I’ve been switching those pills for years, or that I’m more awake and more dangerous than he could ever imagine. I’ve endured the biting cold and the crushing weight of his obsession, waiting for a single sign that my nightmare could end. Tonight, a secret message reached me in the rain, confirming that the only man I ever loved has finally finished his mission. Kole is coming back for me. The contract review is tomorrow, but I’m not planning on signing anything. I’m planning on taking back everything they stole from me, starting with my voice./0/82645/coverorgin.jpg?v=cd2fe1863cd5dfd658924042a47a96dc&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Claire's Cruel Cure
Ethan, a cold New York executive, thought his ailing childhood sweetheart, Claire, was his only priority. He'd banished his pregnant wife, Sarah, to a remote swamp shack, believing she'd failed Claire. But Sarah's banishment was her brutal murder, secretly orchestrated by Claire for her unique blood. Five years later, Claire's mysterious illness returned, sending Ethan, still oblivious, back to the shack for Sarah's power. Instead, he found Leo, a five-year-old boy, Sarah's spitting image. Blinded by obsession, Ethan scoffed at any mention of paternity, dismissing Leo as a "bastard." As Claire feigned agonizing pain, he coldly ordered doctors to drain Leo's blood, convinced it held the cure. My ghostly form hovered, screaming, my hands uselessly passing through my dying son. How could he not see this was his own child? How could he sacrifice our flesh and blood for the very woman who murdered me? His oblivious cruelty was a chilling, bottomless abyss. But as Leo lay lifeless, his blood mingled with Ethan' s own from a cut. Just then, a horrifying secret from my shallow grave began to emerge. The brutal truth of my violent death, and Leo' s true father, would shatter Ethan's world. This devastating revelation would trigger a reckoning he could never escape./0/48578/coverorgin.jpg?v=1adf9936065d9db4a354e2b09f86ace1&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Threads of Betrayal
Could anything be more worse than a betrayal from the ones you loved and trust the most? ****** "You better not be an ingrate or you sure will regret it for the rest of your life, that you know pretty well.. Understood?" "Yes sir!" I managed to answer back as rivers of tears were already rushing down from my eyes. I rubbed the tears off my face with the back of my palm as I walked to the exit of the office. ****** Join Diana Roberts on a heart-wrenching odyssey through betrayal, survival, and the quest for identity. When her mother's tragic death thrusts her into a vicious family power struggle, Diana is cast into the unforgiving streets. Yet, in the shadows of despair, she encounters unlikely allies, including the compassionate Jake Stewart. As she battles demons from her past, a sinister conspiracy unfolds, revealing a tangled web of deception, crime, and a shocking family secret. Can Diana break free from the chains of her lineage, or will she succumb to the darkness that threatens to consume her newfound life? Uncover the gripping saga of one girl's resilience against a world determined to break her./1/115739/coverorgin.jpg?v=b7682809fa9366d0b08f1d2b8c26c664&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Flash Marriage To The Secret Tycoon
Kathern was forced out of her sister's home by her abusive brother-in-law, who violently demanded she pay half the rent or get out. To protect her sister from his rage, Kathern agreed to a six-month paper marriage with a stranger—an old woman's grandson, Bronson—in exchange for a simple apartment. But her new husband treated her like a scheming gold digger from the very first second. He showed up to City Hall in a cheap suit, shoved a brutal prenup in her face, and dumped her in a completely empty, dust-filled apartment. "Just don't cause any trouble," he warned coldly, before leaving her alone. When Kathern politely texted him to ask if he was coming home for dinner, he immediately blocked her number. Kathern was furious and baffled. She didn't want a dime of his money, nor did she care about his boring middle-management job. She had only agreed to this marriage for a place to sleep, yet this arrogant man treated her like absolute garbage. Refusing to swallow the insult, Kathern immediately dialed his grandmother to expose his behavior. She was going to build her own independent life, completely unaware that her "cheap corporate loser" of a husband was actually the ruthless billionaire CEO of the Vaughan empire./0/99841/coverorgin.jpg?v=a996bf8a75d0298975fd3f4fa5b215e4&imageMogr2/format/webp)
A Monster's Final Goodbye
My boyfriend, Carter, hadn't spoken to me in five days. But when my national architecture competition win went viral, he finally called-not to congratulate me, but to scream that I' d embarrassed him by not telling him first. His new girlfriend, Brittney, was the one who tagged him in my post. She was also the one whispering in his ear during the call, telling him I was making him look bad. This was the final straw in a long, cold war. But the real nightmare began when Brittney sent me a video of her torturing my dog, Apollo, in our old apartment. Then came a photo of his lifeless body. I rushed over, blinded by rage, and slammed her head against the wall with an ashtray. Carter, the man I once loved, shoved me away, calling me a maniac for hurting the woman who had just murdered my dog. He chose her. He always chose her. As I carried Apollo's cold body out the door, I made a vow. I would make them pay. I would make their lives a living hell./1/103410/coverorgin.jpg?v=d8830d0ba6194ee66e8f8f538b3c5bd7&imageMogr2/format/webp)
From Slander To Stardom: All Eyes On The Unlikely Heiress
On their wedding anniversary, Emma saw her husband holding a pregnant woman in his arms. The man who once promised her forever spoke without emotion. "She's pregnant. Let's get a divorce." With her mother-in-law and the mistress scheming together, Emma cut all ties and left without a second glance. After the divorce, she shed the image of a plain homemaker. Genius doctor, jewelry designer, secret hacker, lost heiress-Emma stunned all as she reclaimed her life. Her ex begged for another chance, but Emma, now holding the richest man's hand, simply smiled. "Who are you again?"/1/101139/coverorgin.jpg?v=63d3bb1870978bcb67b8b12c010f9513&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Neglected Wife's Bitter Sweet Revenge
I was the perfect wife to my producer husband, Braden, enduring his coldness and affairs for one reason: his promise to release my late father's priceless songbook. Then, at a crowded industry party, I watched him kiss his starlet mistress, Destany, for all to see. The humiliation made me collapse, and I woke up in a hospital bed to a shocking truth: I was pregnant. Braden used our unborn child as a leash, playing the role of a devoted husband while secretly continuing his affair. His mistress grew bolder, breaking into our home after taunting me with photos of her and Braden in Tokyo. "That baby is just another obstacle," she whispered, her eyes filled with hate as she lunged at me. In the struggle, she shoved me down our grand staircase. The fall was a blur of sickening thuds and a sharp, searing pain. I lost my child. The one thing that had tied me to him was gone, stolen by his cruelty and her jealousy. The years of his lies and my silent suffering crystallized into a single, cold purpose. When Braden knelt by my hospital bed, sobbing and begging for forgiveness, I felt nothing. I simply picked up the phone and called my lawyer. "I want a divorce," I said, my voice like ice. "And I'm taking back everything."/1/104708/coverorgin.jpg?v=b5268daf69a927074b80df8cf2dd76a5&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Discarded Wife Builds Her Own World
My husband' s mistress pushed me overboard while I was pregnant. I lost our baby and had an emergency hysterectomy, leaving me barren. When my husband finally visited the hospital, it wasn't to comfort me, but to tell me to get ready for a party. "You'll need your strength to face the cameras," he said, annoyed that I hadn't touched my food. His grandmother was even worse. She slapped me, calling me a "shameless hussy" for failing to keep my husband in line. "You failed to produce a male heir," she spat. "You're useless, Elisa. Utterly, completely useless!" They thought I was the same woman who would silently absorb their cruelty. But the woman who loved him died with our child. I was just a tool they were ready to discard. So I stopped her hand mid-air. "We're done," I said, pushing the divorce papers and a small voice recorder across the bed. "A man who lets his mistress murder his unborn child... that's not a good look for your 'legacy,' is it?"/1/106655/coverorgin.jpg?v=f54362ddf6b690e73589f5a876d77d68&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Stalked By The Mad Dog Nephew
For years, I played the role of the fragile, fading wife in the Garrison dynasty, a "little doll" who looked like she’d break if the wind blew too hard. My husband, Augustus, treated me like a piece of inconvenient furniture, while his volatile nephew, Brandon, stalked me like a predator in the shadows. Everything shattered during a family brunch when Augustus’s mistress, Gilda, lounged in his shirt and announced she was pregnant with the Garrison heir. Instead of hiding his shame, my husband beamed with pride and slid a thick manila envelope across the table in front of his gloating parents. "We need to make room for the family, Avery," he said coldly, "and you’re barren." His mother laughed, calling me a "worthless asset" who provided no value to the lineage. They offered me fifty million dollars to disappear—a pathetic pittance for a man worth over four billion. I let a single, perfect tear fall, playing the part of the defeated, broken woman they all expected me to be. They didn't see the cold calculation behind my watery eyes or know that I had spent three years documenting every illegal insider trade and offshore account Augustus owned. I didn't just sign the papers; I walked into the final settlement meeting in a sharp black suit and shredded their offer in front of their faces. I demanded two billion dollars in cash and controlling voting shares, threatening to hand the SEC the evidence that would send Augustus to federal prison for life. As he lunged at me in a blind rage, realization dawning that he had underestimated me, I leaned in and whispered the final blow. I told him about the box of condoms in his nightstand and the silver needle I used to ensure Gilda got pregnant. "I gave you exactly what you wanted, Augustus," I smiled as I walked out with half his empire. "And in exchange, I got my freedom."/1/107953/coverorgin.jpg?v=6c19555783cf413b4540f8e117eb32c0&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Rejected Burden: Rising From The Shadows
I liquidated every asset I owned for a single gala ticket, convinced that after twenty years, Grafton Blanchard was finally going to ask me to be his partner. My husband, Kingston Riddle, even hinted that the diamond "Eternity Lock" bracelet I’d been eyeing was gone from the vault, and I was sure it was waiting for me. But when I reached the VIP suite, Grafton didn't look at me with love; he snapped that very bracelet onto the wrist of my rival, Bella Sterling. He stood before the crowd and announced their engagement, laughing as he called me his "little mascot" while I stood there in my best dress, feeling the entire world crumble beneath my feet. The betrayal went deeper when I overheard him telling his friends I was nothing more than a "burden" and a "puppy" he was too kind to kick to the curb. Desperate to fix his image, he lured me to a "peace offering" dinner where Bella theatrically threw herself down a flight of marble stairs. Within seconds, Grafton was looming over me, his face twisted in fury as he accused me of being a jealous, vicious monster. "I'm calling the cops. You want to play games? Let's see how you like a holding cell," Grafton roared, snatching my phone so I couldn't record his cruelty. The restaurant manager and the crowd sneered at me, ready to watch me be hauled away in handcuffs for a crime I didn't commit. I was a pariah, discarded by the man I’d spent my entire life protecting. I stood trembling against the wall, realizing that the man I loved was willing to ruin my life to protect a lie. I felt the weight of twenty years of devotion being thrown into the trash, and for the first time, I stopped wondering why I wasn't enough and started wondering how I could have been so blind. Just as the security guards moved in, the heavy doors swung open. My husband, Kingston—the man I thought was a cold stranger—stepped into the light and demanded the manager play the security footage on the big screen. As the video of Bella launching herself backward played for the entire restaurant, I didn't look at Grafton's pathetic apologies; I looked at the exit and realized my life was finally beginning./1/114442/coverorgin.jpg?v=38cce24c5ff46ada714441f776ca026c&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Untouchable Ex-Wife: She Rules a Secret Empire
After three years as Derek's wife, Leanna expected his first words after waking from a coma to be relief-not a cold demand for divorce. She signed without hesitation. To him, she had only ever been a caretaker, while his heart belonged to another woman. Yet once powerful men began circling her, jealousy shredded him. Eyes bloodshot, Derek pinned her to the wall, hands trembling at her waist. "Leanna, don't leave me." Only after losing her did he learn the woman he'd dismissed was a legendary hacker, champion racer, famed pianist, and tech prodigy. How many secrets had his ex-wife kept hidden?/0/82646/coverorgin.jpg?v=b6c7f60f60746b5acdcb77f43237ff08&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Alibi Killer
As a film producer, late nights editing were normal, usually accompanied by the comforting thought of my daughter, Olivia, home from her film club. But then the phone rang, and a police officer's chilling words sliced through my world: "It' s about your daughter, Olivia." She was found brutally beaten in an alley and was clinging to life, her precious vintage camera shattered beside her. At the hospital, amidst the sterile air, the true horror began as my wife, Isabella, Olivia' s own mother, calmly and chillingly framed me for the attack. My alibi crumbled under her calculated lies, leaving me exposed as the prime suspect in my own child' s assault. Later, a dashcam recording shockingly revealed Isabella conspiring with her lover, Marcus, planning my downfall and casually discussing Olivia as merely an inconvenient witness they needed to silence. They froze my accounts, obstructed Olivia's critical medical care, and eventually, Isabella lured me to an alley, intending to drug me and plant 'evidence' to seal my fate. How could the woman I loved orchestrate such a monstrous betrayal, not just against me, but against our critically injured child? Why would she meticulously plot my destruction and casually allow our daughter to be silenced after all these years? Left for dead, barely conscious, Marcus-my lifelong rival-leaned in to gloat, and as he adjusted his shirt, I saw a familiar tribal tattoo. That tattoo, seen once years ago, instantly shattered Isabella' s entire narrative, revealing Marcus as the true architect of her past 'betrayal' and a shocking, decades-long manipulation that fueled her rage. Just as all hope seemed lost, a miraculous phone call echoed: "Mr. Miller, your daughter, Olivia. She' s awake. She' s talking!"/1/113469/coverorgin.jpg?v=155df3d444debc4bebdc4c2f1a5ec300&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Reborn with 10 Billion to Conquer the Apocalypse
She has thirty days. Ten billion dollars. And a quantum space that can swallow anything. Kinsey Elliott died cold, starving, and betrayed—pushed into a frozen abyss by the uncle who stole her fortune. Then she woke up. Back in her penthouse. Back in her perfect body. Back with a silver mark on her wrist that lets her store entire warehouses of supplies in a dimension where time stands still. The world has thirty days until a global ice age freezes everything. Her family has thirty days to try to lock her away, steal her money, and have her killed. And Kinsey? She has thirty days to turn ten billion dollars into an invisible fortress—and burn every last one of them to the ground. She's not surviving the apocalypse. She's building it./1/101140/coverorgin.jpg?v=d37e0fd7b04d1056a7ce5c67fc160ad5&imageMogr2/format/webp)
