Modern Books for Women
Bestsellers Ongoing Completed
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I Left Pregnant, Now My Baby Daddy's A Billionaire
Seven years ago, Eliana, the privileged rich girl, left the shy, penniless Wesley and secretly bore his child. When they reunited, she had lost everything, while he had become heir to a billion-dollar empire. Masked for a work interview, she found him cold, hostile, and eager to torment her. When she confronted him, he just sneered and called her face an eyesore. Terrified, Eliana fled with their child that night, only to find Wesley blocking her door. "Where are you going this time?" She believed he hated her for breaking his heart. Yet every night, he studied their only photo, tracing every line and curve until they were etched deep into his soul./1/105398/coverorgin.jpg?v=20260527190054&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Broken Ballerina's Secret Paris Escape
I traced the floral patterns on the silver candlestick, my fingertips numb from the cold of the penthouse. It was our fifth anniversary, and the Wellington steak I’d spent four hours preparing sat soggy and defeated under the dim chandelier. Fielding finally walked in at 1:00 AM, smelling of scotch and tuberose—a scent I didn't own. When I tried to touch him, he recoiled as if my fingers were acid, then disappeared into the bathroom where I heard him moan his ex-girlfriend's name with a desperate, guttural longing. The betrayal didn't end there. The next day, I found him at a luxury restaurant, watching him slide a massive pink diamond onto Corinna’s finger—the same ring he’d told me was a "business investment." I stood hidden behind a frosted glass partition as his friends laughed, calling me a "lame duck" and a "depressed millstone" around his neck. Fielding didn't defend me; he calmly told them our marriage was just a "debt" he had to pay because I’d saved his life in the crash that ended my ballet career. "She's a millstone, Fielding. How long are you going to play nursemaid?" "I owe her. It's a debt. I pay my debts." When I finally confronted him, he didn't show remorse. Instead, he threatened to use his power to declare me mentally unstable and freeze my grandmother’s trust fund so I’d be left "crippled and penniless" on the street. I realized then that Fielding didn't want a wife; he wanted a martyr to ease his survivor's guilt, as long as I stayed broken and dependent. He thought he’d clipped my wings for good, but he didn't know I’d been secretly studying for the Sorbonne while he was out with his mistress. As I put on my designer gown for the charity gala, I wasn't preparing for a party. I was liquidating my jewelry for untraceable cash and planning the ultimate exit. He thinks I’m his prisoner, but the countdown to my final act has already begun./1/102478/coverorgin.jpg?v=20260106222405&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Just A Substitute: The Wife He Failed
At the family dinner, the waiter stumbled, sending a tray of boiling onion soup flying toward the table. My husband, Marcus, moved instantly. But not for me. He threw his body over my cousin Chloe, shielding her completely in his arms. I was left exposed. The scalding liquid hit my chest and arm, burning my skin instantly. While I screamed in agony on the floor, Marcus was frantically checking Chloe for scratches, whispering, "Thank God it missed you. You are more important than her. Always." In the hospital, he handed me a check for fifty thousand dollars. "It was an instinct," he said, avoiding my eyes. "Don't make a scene." He didn't notice my hollow expression. He didn't ask why the doctors were looking at him with pity. And he certainly didn't know that the shock and trauma had caused me to miscarry our six-week-old baby. For four years, I had been his perfect doll. I dressed like Chloe, painted like Chloe, and waited for him to love me. I thought I was his wife. I didn't realize I was just a placeholder until he sacrificed our child to save his true love from a splash of soup. When he left to comfort Chloe again, I pulled the IV from my arm. I placed the signed divorce papers on the bedside table. Underneath them, I left the medical report confirming the miscarriage of his child. Then, I vanished./1/103127/coverorgin.jpg?v=20260106222937&imageMogr2/format/webp)
A Scientist's Revenge: New Life
I removed an intern from an award nomination for stealing my dead sister's research. My husband, Craig, was furious. He chose to defend her, not me. His rage turned violent. He destroyed my life's work-a cure for Alzheimer's-then shoved me so hard I miscarried our child. He called me "dramatic" as I bled on the floor. Then he locked me in our home, a prisoner, forcing me to sign over my patents to his mistress, the woman who drove my sister to suicide. He thought he had broken me, that I was his to control. But when he tried to humiliate me in the most depraved way imaginable, I saw my chance. I threw myself from a second-story window. As I lay broken on the ground, watching him rush to his mistress's side, I made a vow. My revenge was just beginning./1/113834/coverorgin.jpg?v=89b030390f433c476573076aaf0882c4&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Divorced Psychic's Spectacular Comeback
For two years, Elena played the role of the perfect, submissive wife to her wealthy husband, Andrew Macdonald, quietly swallowing the daily insults of his elite circle to appease his family. But using her hidden divination skills, she tracked his GPS to a dirty nightclub terrace and caught him tightly holding a fragile, crying woman, calling Elena a disposable "Appalachian hillbilly." "The lawyers are drafting the divorce papers. Next week, she'll be out of New York for good." Hearing Andrew promise this gently to his cheating partner, Elena stepped into the dim light, only to be met with nasty mockery from his arrogant friends, while the mistress shrank back and pretended to be an innocent victim. Andrew glared at Elena with deep annoyance, aggressively demanding she stop embarrassing him in public and go back to the countryside, fully expecting her to break down, cry, and beg him to save their marriage. Two years of cooking his meals, ironing his shirts, and enduring his family's cruel abuse were nothing but a sick joke to him, completely blind to the terrifying, ancient power she actually wielded. Instead of shedding a single tear, Elena mercilessly exposed their darkest medical and financial secrets, signed the divorce papers without taking a single dime, and stepped into her new life as the untouchable master she truly was./1/114483/coverorgin.jpg?v=20260429182157&imageMogr2/format/webp)
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./1/125190/coverorgin.jpg?v=20260920163024&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Rising From Ashes: The Vengeful Heiress Returns
I was in the delivery room, fighting for my life against a sudden amniotic fluid embolism. The doctor rushed out, desperately asking my family to sign the consent form to save me and my babies. But my fiancé, Jagger, slammed the clipboard shut and refused to sign. Through the half-open door, I saw my cousin Caroline resting a hand on her flat stomach, smiling triumphantly as she leaned into his arms. "What Jagger really wants is a healthy heir to secure his position, not whatever that thing is inside you." They walked away, leaving me to die on the operating table. If a passing stranger hadn't stepped in to sign the papers, my twins and I would have been corpses. When I woke up, Jagger had already announced my death in a "yachting accident" to the world. He had transferred all my company shares to his name and even left instructions for the hospital to get rid of us if we survived. I couldn't believe the man who promised to love me forever could casually sentence me and his own children to death just for corporate greed. My despair turned into an icy, dead calm. I threw away my engagement ring and fled to Europe with my babies in the dead of night. Five years later, I stepped off a private jet in New York, holding the hands of my genius twins. It was time to take back my empire and make them pay./0/85932/coverorgin.jpg?v=20260106211208&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Online Shame, Real-Life Victory
The lines of code glowed, green and satisfying. It was almost 11 PM, and I, Sarah, a data analyst by trade and a numbers person by nature, was finally done for the day. Then, a trending video popped up. My face, my building, and a headline: "Dedicated Employee or Work-Life Imbalance?" My stomach clenched. Comments flooded in, a digital deluge of pity and objectification. "Wow, she looks so plain." "Probably single. A guy could just walk up to her and she'd probably be grateful." It was disgusting. I felt watched, assessed, categorized by strangers. Unsafe. My brothers were on their way, a familiar comfort. But then, he walked in. Chad. A self-proclaimed "Good Samaritan" challenge participant, selfie stick in hand, beaming that too-perfect smile. He wanted me to be his content. I refused, but he ignored it, flicking my nose with a condescending playfulness. "A pretty girl like you shouldn't be frowning." Rage exploded inside me. I stood, demandmg he leave. With a dramatic sigh, he walked away, still filming. My phone, my lifeline, flickered and died. Just as relief washed over me, the glass doors slid open again. Chad was back. And he had a huge bouquet of roses. A sickly-sweet smell. Dizziness. He was trying to drug me. I fought, screamed, and pepper-sprayed him. But the sedative was working. I collapsed, only to see him standing there again when the elevator doors chimed open. He'd circled back. Then the security guard, Tom, appeared. Chad, with chilling precision, recited my personal details, painting me as a dramatic girlfriend in a "lover's quarrel." Tom bought it. The world went dark as I fell, not to the floor, but into Chad's arms. He whispered in my ear: "Your colleague Mark sends his regards. He didn't appreciate you reporting him to HR."/0/38238/coverorgin.jpg?v=20250225160343&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Her Hidden Identities
Eliza Greer was abandoned by her mother, raised in an orphanage, and sold to the Burns family at 19. Even though she marries Mason Burns, the other people in the Burns family look down on her for her poor identity and want to try every way to bully her. Unexpectedly, they all failed. Eliza's hidden identities are gradually revealed in one incident after another, which astonishes everyone./1/108319/coverorgin.jpg?v=20260309120940&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Rise From The Ashes
When everything she built was reduced to ashes, she had only two choices surrender or rise. Left with nothing but scars and unanswered questions, a young woman must face a world that no longer waits for the broken. Betrayal, loss, and hardship try to bury her, but from the ruins, something stronger begins to form. This is not a story about luck. It is a story about resilience. About standing again when the fall should have ended everything. Rise From The Ashes is an inspiring journey of survival, growth, and quiet strength where every step forward is a victory earned./0/80092/coverorgin.jpg?v=20260106193223&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Married to the Man Who Killed Me
My empire crumbled, my life, cold ash. Olivia was gone. In their derelict New York apartment, a sealed box yielded her unseen journals. I opened one. Inside: a meticulous record of my casual cruelty—my blatant affairs, sneering dismissals, every humiliation. Then, the chilling truth: her hidden terminal leukemia diagnosis. This wasn't just a dying marriage; it was the torturous last act of a woman suffering alone, beneath my roof. Each page, a fresh wound. I recalled her "Legacy Tour"—five desperate tasks I'd scorned, obsessed with my freedom. I remembered mocking her headscarf, tossing her "filthy" wig, blind to her ravaging illness. My neglect hadn't just buried her hope; it brutally hastened her death. How could I have been so blind? So monstrously cruel? The wife I reviled was secretly ArchX, the preservationist I unknowingly battled, and a brilliant artist. She loved me, inexplicably, as I extinguished her light. Her final, faint question from the grave haunted me: "Will he… ever… regret?" Yes, Olivia. I regret. And I will dismantle the world that made me this monster, beginning my terrifying penance, even if it means sacrificing everything./1/102479/coverorgin.jpg?v=20260106222402&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Just A Substitute: The Don's Lost Love
I returned to the manor after four years, handing Marcus Thorne an invitation to my wedding. He looked at me with cold eyes, his arm around his fiancée, Chloe—the woman I was molded to look like. But the real blow came at lunch. A waiter tripped, sending three mugs of scalding coffee flying toward us. Marcus didn't move to protect me. He lunged to grab his phone from the table because Chloe’s face was on the screen. The boiling liquid splashed across my chest, burning my skin instantly. While I screamed in agony, Marcus simply checked his notifications. "I have to go," he said, stepping over me as my fiancé, David, desperately poured ice water on my burns. "Chloe broke a nail. She's hysterical." He walked out of the restaurant without looking back, leaving me writhing in pain. At the hospital, the doctor dropped another bombshell: I was pregnant. Marcus didn't know. He didn't know I was carrying another man's child. Just like he didn't know about the baby of his I had lost three years ago—the one I miscarried while he ignored my calls to close a business deal. I wiped my tears and looked at David. "Get the plane ready," I whispered. "We leave tonight." When Marcus finally came looking for me, all he found was a medical report of the child he killed with his neglect, and a note saying I was gone forever./1/103128/coverorgin.jpg?v=20260624183342&imageMogr2/format/webp)
My Birthday, His Cruel Betrayal
On my 28th birthday, my superstar boyfriend, Jarrett, stood me up. He had to comfort his co-star, Kisha. A few hours later, I saw the paparazzi photo that ended our seven-year relationship. Jarrett was in a dimly lit bar, his arm wrapped around a tear-streaked Kisha, her head on his shoulder. The next morning, I confronted him. He insisted it was just "method acting." "She was just drunk," he said, running a hand through his hair. "Confessing her feelings for her character." He called me dramatic and paranoid for questioning him. He said I was throwing away seven years over a "stupid photo." It was the same gaslighting he'd used for years, wrapping his emotional infidelity in a pretty little "method acting" bow. But this time, I didn't cry. I felt a sudden, chilling calm. "I regret every second I wasted loving you," I told him. "We are over."/1/116106/coverorgin.jpg?v=20260516174001&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Amnesiac Genius: Leaving Her Toxic Ex
I woke up in the hospital with severe amnesia, completely forgetting my boyfriend of three years, Ethan Cole. My best friend told me he was a toxic billionaire who treated me like a pathetic doormat, constantly humiliating me while obsessing over his ex-girlfriend. Realizing the memory loss was a gift, I blocked his number, walked away from his empire, and built my own successful baking brand from scratch. I even met Noah, a powerful man who truly cherished me. Ethan tried to buy my submission with a ten-million-dollar check, but I returned it unopened. Enraged, his new girlfriend stole my life's work and launched a vicious smear campaign to destroy my reputation. Worse, a sudden fainting spell revealed a devastating truth. I was eight weeks pregnant with Ethan's child from before the accident. When Ethan found out, he burst into my hospital room like a madman. He threw punches at Noah and roared at me. "She is my woman! And that is my child!" Looking at his furious, possessive face, I felt no love, only profound disgust. He thought he could treat me like disposable garbage, erase my identity, and then violently claim the one good thing that came from the wreckage. "Get out," I said calmly, pointing at the door. "My child has nothing to do with you."/1/105724/coverorgin.jpg?v=20260202174620&imageMogr2/format/webp)
My Love Was Gone
My husband, Rodger Hayes, was a renowned chief negotiator, famous for his integrity and firmness within the circle. When my son and I were kidnapped, with three hostages at the scene, the kidnappers agreed to release only one. Among the women and the boy, Rodger should have chosen to save the boy first. Yet, I heard him saying in Spanish fluently, "Release the woman in white." His first love, Jolene Chapman, was freed, while my son, Jacob Hayes, died from a gunfire. Later, Rodger explained the situation flatly. "The kidnappers chose to release Jolene." I cradled Jacob's ashes and smiled sadly. Rodger didn't know that I was fluent in Spanish, as I had been a special forces member. His lies crumbled before me. My phone vibrated, and I confirmed the encrypted message. "Falcon returns to base."/0/80417/coverorgin.jpg?v=20260106193545&imageMogr2/format/webp)
After My Death, His Sight Returned
The October chill was nothing compared to the silence of my house as I returned from Alaska, desperate for my daughter, Sophia. "Sophia... there was an accident," Ethan, my husband, said coldly, instantly shattering my world. My little girl was gone, punished for breaking a trivial toy boat he cherished, a supposed memento from his childhood "savior," Chloe. I soon found Ethan’s laptop open, revealing Chloe Jennings, whose seductive purr confirmed the sickening fantasy that had overshadowed Sophia's life and our marriage. Even after Chloe burned Sophia's mementos and brutally assaulted me with a fire poker, Ethan defended her, offering "compensation" for my "inconvenience." His chilling pragmatism, viewing our dead daughter solely as a tool for his mistress’s agenda, unleashed a profound, bitter injustice within me. But after Chloe’s sadistic taunts and Ethan’s infuriating pleas for me to be "considerate" while she jabbed me with a syringe, mere escape wasn't enough. To truly shatter this monstrous delusion, I would stage my own death, vanishing completely and forcing Ethan to face a terrifying reality./1/104102/coverorgin.jpg?v=20260106223609&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Secret Heiress Returns: Ruining My Cheating Husband
I stood in the middle of the gala I had spent months curating, waiting for the perfect moment to tell my husband, Gabe, that he was going to be a father. Instead, I watched him place a possessive hand on the stomach of my best friend, Harper. A reporter nearby whispered the truth that stopped my heart: Harper was pregnant with Gabe’s child, and they were announcing it after the IPO. When I confronted him, Gabe didn't apologize. He looked at me with cold calculation and told me a scandal would ruin the company. Then came the ultimatum that shattered my soul. He wanted me to hide in the countryside, give birth in secret, and hand my baby over to his mistress to raise. "Don't be selfish," he said. "She needs this baby more than you do." When I refused, his mother had me dragged away and locked in my bedroom. My windows were sealed, and my own parents sold me out, releasing a statement that I had suffered a mental breakdown. I was trapped, starving, and waiting for them to induce labor so they could steal my child. But they made one fatal mistake. To keep me "calm," Gabe handed me my phone for five minutes. I didn't call the police; the Sullivans owned them. I dialed a number I had found in my adoption papers years ago. A number belonging to Anthony Dean, the most dangerous man on the East Coast. "They are going to kill my baby," I whispered into the receiver. The voice on the other end was low, terrifying, and promised absolute violence. "I'm coming."/1/110591/coverorgin.jpg?v=20260430135558&imageMogr2/format/webp)
REBORN FOR THEIR BETRAYAL
Fleeing shadows in the hallway, Adrian Vale knew betrayal came from those closest. A fortune inherited meant little when blood turned cold. Last breaths tasted of lies whispered at dinner. Trust shattered like glass underfoot. Murder arrived wearing a familiar smile. Yet his eyes opened somewhere beyond belief. Beneath the quiet of her body. Everything still there inside his head - Adrian suddenly sees it clearly, a deep dread rising Some who killed him walk free today, holding influence, their plans against his kin far from finished. This moment changes everything - he'll learn each hidden truth as he gets older. Right away, life unfolds differently for Adrian - quietly shifting odds, pulling people close, growing stronger where no one sees. A fight without sound starts at his first breath. Becoming clear to everyone, that moment shifts everything... By then, chances are gone./1/101182/coverorgin.jpg?v=20260113112835&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Underworld Boss's Notorious Lackey Is Actually A Hidden Beauty?!
Avery spent seven years disguised as a man, clawing her way up the underworld as the illegitimate heir's sharpest lackey. Feared enough that even street drifters crossed the road to avoid her, she brushed off every insult while flirting with women to protect her cover-and shielding herself from her boss's advances. Then rumors exploded: Kellan, the ruthless underworld heir, preferred men and was obsessively devoted to "Avery." Even he himself was conceived by the lie... until a pregnancy test ripped the truth wide open. He pinned her down and demanded, "After what you've done to me, don't you think you should own up to your feelings?"/1/105400/coverorgin.jpg?v=52fded96203571f09922884a030aec07&imageMogr2/format/webp)
