Modern Books for Women
Bestsellers Ongoing Completed
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His Unwanted Wife, Now Unreachable Queen
Bailey, an invisible shadow to the powerful Douglas family, stood in the freezing rain, watching City Hall. For five long years, she’d been used to being forgotten. But today, her entire world shattered as her fiancé, Jameson, walked out with another woman, Haleigh, holding their fresh marriage certificates. Jameson scooped Haleigh into his arms, treating her like fragile glass, convinced she’d saved him from a burning car five years ago. He never knew it was Bailey who pulled him from the flames, nor that Haleigh's "sickness" had left Bailey with an ugly scar from donating bone marrow, making her a mere family blood bank. Watching them kiss, pure nausea rose from years of blame. Bailey later found a joyous celebration for Haleigh at the manor. Her wet arrival drew only cold annoyance; Jameson gave pitying instructions before all four men rushed to Haleigh’s side when she faked a cough. Haleigh, with a sweet smile, presented Bailey a "gift"—a velvet box. Forced to open it, a venomous Brown Recluse spider dropped onto Bailey's hand, sinking its fangs deep. As white-hot agony exploded and her vision blurred, Haleigh theatrically screamed, deliberately scraping her forehead. The men, blind with panic for Haleigh’s minor scratch, roared at Bailey, shoved her to the floor, and rushed Haleigh to the car. Left to die alone, struggling for breath as her body shut down, Bailey knew this was the end of playing their disgusting game. She had already activated her hidden trust fund, planning to buy a remote island and disappear forever./0/82257/coverorgin.jpg?v=255143b18acdf875c5c1e5ecc4462267&imageMogr2/format/webp)
His Coma Bride, His True Escape
Ethan Hayes thought his life was a gilded cage, trapped between his tyrannical father and his ruthless half-brother, Liam. His last hope for freedom was an arranged marriage to a comatose heiress in Boston, a deal he accepted in exchange for a fortune and the quiet support of his stoic bodyguard, Sarah Bell. But that fragile sense of acceptance shattered when he overheard Sarah's late-night call, revealing her true identity as Seraphina Vance, a billionaire heiress, and her chilling confession: she was infatuated with Liam, seeing Ethan as nothing more than a "means to an end." The woman he' d secretly loved had been deceiving him, her every act of professional care a calculated move to get closer to Liam. Her obsession led her to public acts of devotion towards his tormentor brother, culminating in orchestrating a brutal dog attack on Ethan and later a violent beating by thugs, all while prioritizing Liam and dismissing Ethan's suffering. How could the quiet, seemingly caring Sarah be this ruthless heiress, so utterly blind to Liam' s cruelty? The betrayal gnawed at Ethan, leaving him drowning in a bitter cocktail of humiliation, anger, and profound confusion. Was his entire life just a stage for their twisted games? Then, Liam's drunken boasts exposed the horrific truth: his mother's death and Ethan's ruined scholarship were his brother's calculated acts. With nothing left to lose and everything to escape, Ethan decided his arranged marriage was no longer just a transaction, but his only path to true freedom from a family intent on destroying him, even if it meant abandoning everything he knew./0/82883/coverorgin.jpg?v=28135e028bbfba6187398b78f41e471b&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Wife Who Came Back To Kill
My life as Evelyn Reed, the quiet wife to the ambitious Senator Harrison Bishop III, was finally complete - I was pregnant, a joyful secret I' d just shared with my husband. But Victoria, my beautiful, cruel stepsister, offered me a "special herbal tea" for the baby. Soon, searing pain tore through me, a fire in my belly that turned to a spreading, deadly cold. My hands clutched my stomach, trying to protect the tiny life, our baby. It was useless. Victoria stood over me, her smile a crimson slash, while Harry, my own husband, remained a silent shadow behind her. "You were always just a placeholder, you and that little mistake," Victoria whispered, her voice the last sound before darkness swallowed me whole. I died, betrayed by the man I loved and the sister I trusted, my unborn child ripped from me. The injustice burned hotter than the fire in my belly, leaving behind a cold, endless void. Then I gasped, eyes snapping open to blinding sunlight. I was in my doctor's office. "You' re about six weeks along. Congratulations, Evelyn." I was back. Back to the very day it all began, their treachery branded onto my soul. This time, I knew their game. And this time, they would pay – a debt of vengeance as cold and sharp as broken glass./0/87889/coverorgin.jpg?v=20260106213251&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Ex-Wife’s Grand Return
My husband, Brady, was supposed to be the love of my life, the man who promised to protect me forever. Instead, he was the one who hurt me the most. He forced me to sign divorce papers, accusing me of corporate espionage and sabotaging company projects, all while his first love, Hettie, who was supposedly dead, reappeared, pregnant with his child. My family was gone, my mother disowned me, and my father died while I was working late, a choice I'd regret forever. I was dying, suffering from late-stage cancer, and he didn't even know, or care. He was too busy with Hettie, who was allergic to the flowers I tended for him, the ones he loved because Hettie loved them. He accused me of having an affair with my adoptive brother, Callum, who was also my doctor, the only person who truly cared for me. He called me disgusting, a skeleton, and told me no one loved me. I was terrified that if I fought back, I would lose even the right to hear his voice on the phone. I was so weak, so pathetic. But I wouldn't let him win. I signed the divorce papers, giving him Simon Corp, the company he always wanted to destroy. I faked my death, hoping he would finally be happy. But I was wrong. Three years later, I returned as Aurora Morgan, a powerful woman with a new identity, ready to make him pay for everything he had done./1/112919/coverorgin.jpg?v=641590e17e7744716b4e97a7d5df6683&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Ruthless Billionaire's Obsessive Pursuit
Gabriella Henson returned to New York after ten years, ready to start her new life as an attending surgeon and finally reunite with her childhood sweetheart, Jerrell. But her fresh start shattered the moment she accidentally got into the unlicensed black Maybach of Emmett Kane, a ruthless, obsessive billionaire who immediately locked his sights on her. He crashed her welcome-back dinner, radiating a terrifying dominance. He grabbed her wrist, ate directly from her spoon, and publicly exposed that she had his personal number to humiliate her. Then, Emmett dropped a bomb that destroyed her world. He casually revealed that Jerrell, the man acting as her perfect protector, was secretly engaged to a wealthy senator's daughter for political power. Jerrell's golden-boy image instantly crumbled into panic, proving the betrayal was real. Meanwhile, Emmett's bulletproof SUV stalked her into the night, his dark eyes filled with a terrifying, quiet rage and an absolute need to conquer her. Ten years ago, Jerrell's elitist mother had humiliated Gabriella and chased her out of the city like trash. Now, the man she trusted had betrayed her, and a psychotic billionaire was treating her like his personal prey. Why was she always a pawn for these arrogant, wealthy families? Just as she swore to cut ties with them forever, her hospital pager flashed a Code Red. The bloody VIP trauma patient wheeled into her ER was Jerrell's mother. "Gabby! Please! Please save my mother!" Jerrell sobbed outside the trauma room, begging Gabriella to save the very woman who had ruined her life./1/108226/coverorgin.jpg?v=64bd472aeb0cc8c29240191b51d3109e&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Surgeon Heiress's Cold-Blooded Revenge
I woke up strapped to a cold steel operating table, the blinding light of a surgical lamp burning my retinas. I was a doctor, but I wasn't the one holding the scalpel this time. Then I heard the voice of my stepfather, Arthur Bailey—the man who had seized my family’s entire estate after my father’s death. He wasn't there to save me; he was there to sell me. "Just get the kidney on ice for Archer," he told the butcher in scrubs. "Do whatever you want with the rest of her." This wasn't a hospital; it was a slaughterhouse in Queens. To escape, I had to dislocate my own thumb to slip the leather cuffs and use a scalpel to slice my way out of the room. Covered in blood and grime, I crashed Arthur's high-society gala at the Plaza Hotel, only to find my family pretending to mourn my "mental breakdown" while they planned my permanent disappearance into an asylum. Even as I stood before them, dripping with sewer water and rage, they tried to have me dragged away as a lunatic. I was a top-tier trauma surgeon, yet I was being treated like a piece of meat by the people who were supposed to be my family. The betrayal tasted like copper in my mouth, a cold, slow panic turning into a simmering, absolute fury. I didn't understand how they could look at me and see nothing but a collection of spare parts. That's when Cedric Mullen, the billionaire I’d been legally married to while he was in a coma, stepped out of the shadows to claim me. He didn't want a wife; he wanted a legal asset to unlock his inheritance. I looked into his predator's eyes and signed his contract, trading my silence for his resources. I told him, "I want Arthur Bailey destroyed. I want him to feel what it’s like to be cut open and left for dead." I wasn't a victim anymore; I was a reckoning./0/54881/coverorgin.jpg?v=3a2bdb55ea492b8b39f7dda4b4a85cd6&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Heiress' Returns
Tyra runs away at 14 and thinks that she can escape all the responsibilities and family drama behind. But can she really? or will she have to go back and clean up every ones mess and take over the family business and figure out how to get it on the right track. Or will she keep running and deny everything./0/88515/coverorgin.jpg?v=6fced6e191f0ead84a04c1618ef47182&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Ex's Ruthless Revenge
My company, Innovate, was my life' s work, built from the ground up with my boyfriend, Caleb, over ten years. We were college sweethearts, a golden couple, and our biggest deal, a $50 million contract with Apex Ventures, was finally closing. Then, a sudden wave of nausea hit me, and I fainted, only to wake up in a hospital. When I returned to the office, my keycard was denied, my access revoked, and my photo, defaced with an "X," was in the trash. Krystal Schroeder, a young intern Caleb had hired, was sitting at my desk, acting like the new Chief of Operations. She announced loudly that "non-essential personnel" were to stay clear, looking directly at me. Caleb, the man who had promised me the world, stood by, his face cold and indifferent. He dismissed my pregnancy, calling it a distraction, and put me on mandatory leave. I saw a tube of Krystal' s bright red lipstick on Caleb' s desk, the same shade I' d seen on his collar. The pieces clicked: the late nights, the "business dinners," his sudden obsession with his phone-it was all a lie. They had been planning this for months. The man I loved was gone, replaced by a stranger. But I wouldn' t let them take everything. I told Caleb I was leaving, but not without my full share of the company, valued at the post-Apex funding price. I also reminded him that the core algorithm, the one Apex was investing in, was patented in my name alone. I walked out, pulling out my phone to call the one person I never thought I would: Easton Jensen, my fiercest rival./0/31572/coverorgin.jpg?v=625c67d95885a2fc84ff27df5c47e6ab&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Flash Marriage: Spoiled By My Mysterious Husband
Three years ago, Eunice gave birth to triplets, but only one of the three children survived—or so she was told. In order to inherit her mother's property, Eunice was forced to marry a poor but handsome computer programmer. After getting married to this mysterious man, she started to wonder… Three years ago, she had never had sex with a man but had somehow gotten pregnant… She also found out that she had another living child... What was the truth? And why did her “poor” husband look exactly like the wealthy tycoon she had seen on TV?/1/107444/coverorgin.jpg?v=a2ab78443987437729b86e91a7bedc0e&imageMogr2/format/webp)
I Am Not Your Pawn Anymore
Barrett handed me a Montblanc pen and a legal document, his voice as cold as the rain lashing against his Tribeca penthouse. He told me to sign an admission of guilt for an SEC violation I never committed. "Eighteen months in prison, Anaya," he said, adjusting his cufflinks without looking at me. "The trust fund is set up. You'll get twenty million dollars the moment you step out." I was being sold. The man I had loved for ten years, the man whose secrets I had kept, was trading my freedom to save his merger with Adele Townsend. He had scrubbed the digital logs of Adele’s illegal trades and pinned everything on me. When I refused, he didn't see my heartbreak; he only saw a malfunction in a business transaction. "Do not speak her name," he hissed when I mentioned Adele’s fraud. "This merger is bigger than you." He forced the pen into my hand, calling me dramatic while his security guards dragged me to a locked bedroom to "cool down." I spent three days parched and starving, listening to the muffled sound of champagne corks popping down the hall. They were celebrating my destruction. My heart finally gave out in that luxury cage, the darkness swallowing me as I realized I was nothing more than a disposable asset to him. I died in that room, alone and betrayed by the person I trusted most. How could he do this? How could a decade of loyalty be worth less than a stock price? Why did I let him treat me like a sacrificial lamb for so long? GASP. I shot up in bed, my lungs burning, but I wasn't in the penthouse. I was in my old, peeling Brooklyn apartment, and the date on my phone was May 12th—three years ago. My phone buzzed with a text from Barrett: "Where are you? Bring the Townsend files. Now." A cold, cruel smile touched my lips as I typed the reply that would start his nightmare. "I quit."/0/81632/coverorgin.jpg?v=54b66b76a100e97a04e69ab2d2bb2b24&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Disowned Heir: A Path to Vengeance
My adoptive family always treated me as their golden child, until I stumbled into a dusty storage room at Grandfather Harrison's 90th birthday celebration. There, I found it: my deceased sister Chloe' s SAT score report, showing near-perfect scores that shattered everything our wealthy New England family had ever told me about her "instability." I innocently showed it to my father, expecting pride or explanation. Instead, his face turned a mottled red, my mother's teacup rattled, and Grandfather dramatically collapsed right before my eyes. Within hours, I was disowned, my entire life-my job, my funds, my home-ripped away, leaving me bewildered and clutching the damning piece of paper. The family called me "disrespectful," my uncle called me "ungrateful," and my own mother, without a flicker of warmth, commanded security to "pack Mr. Ethan' s bags immediately." I was thrown out, abandoned, and even brutally assaulted by my father and uncles when I tried to visit my "dying" grandfather in the hospital. Why? Why would a dead girl's academic scores trigger such a violent, absolute betrayal from the people who raised me? My memories of Chloe, fragmented and disturbing, hint at a darker truth. Then, my mother's voice, strained and chilling, revealed the real reason for my grandfather's "stroke": "He was already gone, Ethan. Two weeks ago. It was all a lie." A cold certainty settled in my gut: Chloe's death, my family's obsession with secrecy, and my sudden banishment are all connected to a truth too monstrous to contain. And I, the discarded son, will unearth every single buried secret at my grandfather's sham funeral./0/84135/coverorgin.jpg?v=6613b7473e1b6a7420312d6a57a69b3e&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Alibi of Justice
The stale smell of forgotten dreams filled the New York yellow cab as rain blurred the city outside, a scene hauntingly familiar. In my last life, this exact ride took me straight to the Pulitzer jury, to the beginning of my catastrophic downfall. My own daughter, Gabrielle, systematically dismantled my life, using my name and reputation to peddle fake insider trading tips to desperate writers. When her scheme inevitably imploded, she seamlessly shifted blame onto me, painting me as a corrupt public figure, a "whistleblower" feeding lies to the hungry online mob. I lost everything: my esteemed career, my freedom, and ultimately, my life, succumbing to a stress-induced heart attack in a lonely apartment, hounded by strangers and forever disgraced. The betrayal was a cold, bitter knot in my stomach-how could the child I raised inflict such immense pain and ruin? But then, a jolt: I was back in this taxi, on this very day, with the chilling clarity of a second chance. This time, this ride wouldn't lead to my destruction; it would be the first step in my meticulous plan to save myself and dismantle her cruel charade./0/86638/coverorgin.jpg?v=545f0ffe2ce0146ef6e637b915775942&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Wife They Left Behind
For twenty years, I, Sarah Miller, was the devoted wife, mother, and household manager, blindly enduring a marriage crumbling from unspoken resentments. Then, my husband, Mark, casually tossed out my expensive, medical-grade skincare to make room for his golf shoes, while my daughter, Emily, dismissed my distress with a sneer. That day, the dam holding back two decades of swallowed words burst, and I declared, "I want a divorce." They dismissed it as a "dramatic episode," then deliberately excluded me from their first-class seats on a celebratory trip I' d paid for-leaving me to sit alone in economy like a forgotten piece of luggage. My attempt to confront them only led to Mark threatening to have me removed by a flight attendant, followed by my mother-in-law, Brenda' s, veiled venom and physical assault, a constant reminder of their calculated cruelty. The final straw came when, after a seafood dinner they ordered despite my life-threatening allergy, Mark froze my credit card, leaving me stranded and penniless in a foreign country. How could these people, my own family, treat me with such utter contempt and disregard? In that moment of absolute abandonment, a cold fury solidified: I would not beg, I would not yield, and I would not be their victim any longer./0/80537/coverorgin.jpg?v=d705418b3a656d73f1c6191298c00ad1&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Placeholder Who Became Queen
Tonight, I, Emily, stood proudly at Ivy Glen Winery’s Annual Harvest Gala. My new Cabernet was launching, the culmination of three years transforming my in-laws' struggling vineyard into a national name as its CEO. Then my husband Kevin walked in, arm-in-arm with Jessica, his visibly pregnant college ex, and snatched the microphone. He slurred, branding me a "placeholder" and firing me, both as CEO and his wife, proclaiming Jessica’s child the "real" Parker heir. A hush fell, then whispers. The crowd, quick to condemn, watched as he offered a measly hundred thousand dollars for my years of effort. Jessica preened, boasting about being the "rightful" Mrs. Parker, reminding everyone I had no formal employment contract. Everything I built seemed to crumble. How could he? After everything I poured into this place, into *us*? To be so casually discarded, so utterly humiliated in front of everyone, felt like a cruel joke. Was I truly just a temporary convenience, a "nobody" without him, as he sneered? With a steady hand, I signed the brutal divorce papers, intending to walk away with nothing but the clothes on my back. But just then, my in-laws, Richard and Susan, stepped forward, and the true bombshell dropped: "Emily is our daughter. Our true blood. The rightful heir to Ivy Glen."/1/105567/coverorgin.jpg?v=9bf948a43985066b25afcac6d778beb7&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Billionaire's Stolen Angel: A Painful Return
I was on my knees in the Ohio dirt, frantically scooping wet coffee grounds back into a torn trash bag while my foster mother screamed that I was a useless waste of space. Then, ten black Escalades rolled into our rotting trailer park like a funeral procession, and a woman in silk fell to the mud, sobbing that she had finally found her "Elara." I was whisked away to a mansion that looked like a castle, but the nightmare didn't end with a warm bed and sterilized air. My brother Harlen looked at me with pure disgust, and when he slapped a chicken leg out of my hand at our first dinner, I instinctively dove under the table to eat it off the rug, begging for mercy through my tears. My billionaire father, Arthur, watched in silent agony as I tried to wash my own rags in a gold-plated sink at dawn, terrified that I would be starved if I didn't "earn my keep." He promised me a thousand silk dresses and ordered the trailer park bulldozed to the ground, but I still felt like a prey animal caught by very large, very sad predators. The trauma wasn't a smudge I could wash off; it was a map of cigarette burns and bruises that I was desperate to hide from the family that had spent millions searching for me. Just as I thought I might be safe, a black helicopter banked over the lawn, carrying a medical team and a cold order from my oldest brother, the "Shark" of New York. "No one is ever taking you away," my father growled, shielding me from the men in white coats. But as the rotors shook the windows, I realized that being found was only the beginning of a different kind of war within the Bridges empire./0/80850/coverorgin.jpg?v=d4ae71a59bf37866e838c7f4b9e91beb&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Eighteen-Year Lie
For eighteen years, I’ve been told a lie. My husband, Mark, my doctors, even my own parents, convinced me I suffered from a delusional disorder, that my deep ache for a daughter named Emily was just a symptom. They said I only had one child, my sweet son Ethan. Yet, I always felt a part of me was missing. Then, on Ethan’s wedding day, a tarnished silver locket tumbled out from under my bed – the very one I gave my daughter, Emily, for her fifth birthday, the day she vanished. The fog of medication burned away, replaced by searing clarity. Emily was real. Mark had lied. I stormed into the wedding reception, publicly accusing him of murder, of burying Emily under our oak tree. But instead of finding justice, I was dragged away by the police, deemed delusional, and forcibly committed to a psychiatric facility. There, Mark and my parents finally ‘confessed’ a horrifying truth: Emily died in a car crash I caused, and her memory was erased from my mind to ‘protect’ me. Wracked with grief and guilt, I visited Emily’s supposed grave. But how could a daughter I’d barely remembered, who allegedly died eighteen years ago, still whisper ‘Save me’ in my dreams? And why did her headstone, beneath an ancient oak, look… disturbingly new? My bare hands clawed through the earth until they struck wood. The small casket, still pristine. Not decaying, not old. And utterly, horrifyingly empty. Emily isn't dead. My daughter is alive, and Mark, my husband, is a monster. The fight for Emily has just begun./1/104472/coverorgin.jpg?v=3616bd70d6c998e7c91c41c2abdae123&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Runaway Wife: Never Forgiving You
My husband, the Mad Prince of the underworld, once burned down a city block just because a rival looked at me wrong. Now, he forces me to kneel in the freezing New York snow, clad only in thin silk. In his hand, he holds a tablet controlling my comatose brother's life support, threatening to kill him unless I confess to bullying his new mistress. To save my brother, I swallow my pride and confess to a crime I didn't commit. But the stress is too much. I miscarry our child right there, staining the pristine white snow crimson. Dante doesn't even blink. He steps over my bleeding body to comfort his crying mistress, leaving me to scream for our lost baby alone. He thinks he taught me a lesson. He forces me to apologize to the woman who mocked me, even as my stitches tear. He doesn't know that while he was guarding the door to keep doctors out, my brother actually died. He doesn't know I buried the only family I had left in a pauper's grave while he slept with the woman who framed me. On our tenth anniversary, he fills the house with lilies, expecting reconciliation. Instead, I leave the signed divorce papers on the bed, take a handful of grave soil, and vanish into the night. By the time he realizes the truth, I will be a ghost he can never touch again./0/52848/coverorgin.jpg?v=cb9947f8acc62b5a06a071fd8e7dd8dd&imageMogr2/format/webp)
MARRIED AS A REPLACEMENT BRIDE
Sophia Jones a high school graduate who is eighteen years old must give up her freedom and choose a love connection with a billionaire. Refusing to be his wife means exposing a major scandal, allowing a grandfather to pass away, and defaming a prosperous family. After being abducted and married to a total stranger in a church, Sophia Jones must make this decision before it is too late to escape the unexpected. Nicholas Woods, a twenty-five years old bachelor, ruthless and mean, has accomplished a great deal in his life. He is a successor to the several multinational enterprises that Woods operated. His single encounter with a stripper leads to a lawsuit that compels him to marry her. This is even though he is aware of what he wants and can get what he desires. What happens if Sophia were to marry this monster who is out to seek revenge in place of Katerina? Is the road to love paved with drama, or is each step a terrifying nightmare?/1/110104/coverorgin.jpg?v=e5c6511e6ec0fdef2827ddad625849e8&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Ex-Wife's Empire: When She Stopped Begging And Started Conquering
After a long trip, I arrived in an unfamiliar city, hoping to celebrate my birthday with my husband and daughter. Instead, they didn't remember the occasion at all. Worse, the two of them were busy preparing a surprise for my half-sister. Throughout our seven years of marriage, I lived far away from my husband and daughter so I could support my husband's career. Over time, the distance gave them the chance to grow close to my half-sister, and the three of them nearly became a real family without me. For the longest time, I believed that if I kept giving everything I had, they would eventually return my devotion with genuine love. Yet the moment the cruel truth destroyed that final shred of hope, I didn't hesitate. I asked for a divorce. Maybe because I spent so many years focused on my family, they had forgotten something important. I was a business prodigy. I refused to keep living as the woman who craved their approval. Even if they came to me on their knees, begging for forgiveness, I wouldn't spare them a second glance. From now on, I would make sure the world saw me in a completely different light./1/112920/coverorgin.jpg?v=d4c6e7f7d7d93ce812f3fb958a9d47c3&imageMogr2/format/webp)
