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Modern Books for Women

Bestsellers Ongoing Completed
His Dead Lover In A New Body

His Dead Lover In A New Body

Imogen Montgomery was the perfect billionaire heiress, deeply in love and ready to marry her fiancé, Clark Ellis. That all ended the night her cousin Kathleen ripped the sapphire pendant from her neck and pushed her into a pool of toxic chemicals to die. Two years later, Imogen's eyes snapped open. But she didn't wake up in a hospital. She woke up tied to a stained mattress, trapped in the battered body of Briana, a teenage girl from the slums who had just been sold to a local trafficker. After violently fighting her way out of a cheap motel, she discovered the horrifying truth. Kathleen had taken over the Montgomery Group. She had locked Imogen's grieving parents away in a psychiatric facility as prisoners. And worst of all, Kathleen was now flaunting her stolen wealth online, preparing to marry Clark. A wave of pure, white-hot rage boiled in her blood. Kathleen had murdered her, stolen her family, and was playing the perfect grieving cousin. How was she supposed to fight back? She was just a runaway nobody now. If she tried to expose the truth, Kathleen's security would shoot her dead in the street. She needed a weapon. She needed a shield. She needed the one man Kathleen feared. Covered in mud and blood, Briana intercepted Clark's car in the freezing rain. She was going to infiltrate his home as his vulgar, unhinged fake mistress, and she would drag Kathleen straight down to hell.
The Hummingbird's Broken Song

The Hummingbird's Broken Song

I gave up everything for him. My spot at the world' s most prestigious art conservation guild, five grueling years working three dead-end jobs – all to pay off the $50,000 "debt" from my boyfriend Liam' s "failed startup." Tonight, I held the final cash payment, ready for our new beginning. But when I arrived at the exclusive VIP lounge to meet his "loan shark," my world imploded. Liam wasn' t the struggling entrepreneur I knew. He was in a tailored suit, laughing with a socialite, Chloe. And his "loan shark"? Just an employee bowing to him. Then I heard his voice, cold and smooth: "Another fifty K from the little workhorse. She actually did it." My sweat, my exhaustion, my sacrificed dreams-all a cruel joke. They had used me. And then, the sickening climax: his plan for "phase two," a fake $100,000 "debt" to "keep her busy, keep her grateful." The delicate touch of my hands, capable of restoring centuries-old masterpieces, now calloused and trembling with a rage so profound it stole my breath. How could the man I loved orchestrate such a monstrous deception? How could he watch me suffer for years and feel nothing but contempt? My entire life felt like a meticulously constructed lie. But from the ashes of betrayal, a new fire ignited. That $50,000 wasn't for him. It was mine. A desperate call to my old mentor offered a lifeline: a job across the ocean. I wouldn't cower. I was taking my life back, reclaiming my destiny, and I would face him one last time before soaring free.
No Mercy, No Return

No Mercy, No Return

The music throbbed at my sister Claire' s engagement party. Ethan Prescott, the man I was supposed to marry, stood beside her, glowing. I watched from the sidelines, a polite smile glued to my face, my family' s legendary Aegis Locket cool against my skin. Then Claire screamed. Stumbling into the ballroom, her dress torn, a bruise blooming on her cheek, she pointed directly at me, her voice cracking. "She did this! Rory attacked me! She said I stole Ethan, that I' d pay!" My fiancé, my brother Sam, and even my own mother, instantly believed her lies. They called me a monster. Without a second thought, Ethan ripped the Aegis Locket from my neck, banishing me to "The Hollows," a desolate commune in Maine, for "rehabilitation." Five years I endured there: systematic torture, starvation, brutal beatings, and the ultimate degradation – a searing brand announcing "Property of The Hollows." My once-sharp mind shattered, my identity erased. I became a feral, cowering creature, unable to comprehend the monstrous injustice. How could my family, my beloved Ethan, mistake my horrific abuse for madness, my broken pleas for manipulative acts? Why did they choose to believe the twisted narrative of my venomous sister? When Ethan and Sam finally came to retrieve me, repulsed by the shattered woman before them, my raw, branded body was exposed during a cruel "penance" ritual. With nothing left but shame and despair, I lunged towards the cliff's edge, escaping their judgment, escaping everything, by throwing myself into the raging abyss below.
The Mute Wife's Revenge: Silent No More

The Mute Wife's Revenge: Silent No More

I spent three years as the silent architect of the Maynard family’s fortune, bound by an iron-clad NDA that turned me into a ghost. As Calhoun’s wife, I was the "silent asset," the one who saved their empire from the shadows while they took the bows and the credit. The betrayal started in a boardroom when my life's work was publicly handed to my incompetent brother-in-law, Conrad. But the real knife came later that night at the victory gala. I caught Calhoun in a VIP lounge, whispering promises to his sister-in-law, Bianca, as they plotted to strip me of my voting shares. When I tried to walk away, the Maynards struck. Bianca faked a pregnancy and threw herself in front of a car, framing me for attempted murder. My father-in-law gave me a brutal choice: rot in prison for fifteen years or sign an annulment forfeiting my inheritance, my identity, and my mother’s last sapphire necklace. They threw me out into a midnight storm with nothing but a trash bag of old rags. I knelt in the mud, watching the gates of the estate slam shut, realizing my entire marriage had been a transaction and I was finally out of stock. How could they steal my work, my name, and the only memory of my mother I had left? As I collapsed on the side of a dark road, a black Rolls Royce cut through the rain. Julian Montgomery, the Maynards’ most ruthless rival, stepped out and draped his cashmere coat over my shivering shoulders. He looked at me not with pity, but with predatory interest. I looked back and whispered the only thing that mattered. "Leverage."