Modern Books for Women
Bestsellers Ongoing Completed
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My Precious Angel Turned Out To Be Deadlier Than Sin
In a strange country and on the edge of hopelessness, the trapped young woman was swept up in a theatrical rescue by a rich, ruthless man. He dropped twenty billion to pry her from a devil's grip, kept her near like a prized little pet, and even gave her the name Malinda. To everyone else, Malinda looked savage and merciless, her name alone making people flinch. Yet to Charlie, she was a fragile, sweet thing he adored. When her real identities surfaced, they learned she was a miracle healer, an elite assassin, and heir to a shadowed clan. The onlookers shuddered. Fragile and sweet? For real?/0/79997/coverorgin.jpg?v=f6575ec89414a4118d8da4b6207493d4&imageMogr2/format/webp)
No Second Chance: Farewell, Mr. Heartbreaker
Katherine spent five years at Vincent's side-model secretary by day, compliant lover by night. When she heard of his arranged marriage, she stifled her pain and planned a quiet exit. That resolve cracked the moment she met his fiancée, daughter of the woman who'd wrecked her own family. Rage replaced obedience; Katherine resolved to claim Vincent. Yet he kept tossing her loyalty tips like she was only a plaything. Heart stung, she walked away with her last scrap of pride. Four years later they crossed paths again, a child gripping her hand. "I don't care who's the father," Vincent pleaded. "Come back, please!"/1/103631/coverorgin.jpg?v=9caffa87a08b49fab9d29d99bd1e7e08&imageMogr2/format/webp)
His Perfect Lie, Her Vicious Truth
For five years, I was the loving Mrs. Clayton, enduring painful fertility treatments to give my husband, Bronson, the heir he deserved. He was my rock, my protector since a college hazing incident left me barren. Then I overheard the truth from behind his study door. Our marriage was a sham, never legally filed. He' d had a vasectomy before our wedding. It was all an elaborate lie to protect Bridgett-his childhood love and the very woman who orchestrated the assault that destroyed my future. He wasn't my savior. He was her accomplice, and I was just his compensation. Every gentle touch, every reassuring word, was a performance. He thought I' d never find out. He thought I' d always be his devoted, clueless wife. But when his precious Bridgett harmed my sick brother, my grief turned to ice. I smiled sweetly, played the part of the forgiving wife, and began gathering the evidence that would burn their entire world to the ground./1/107259/coverorgin.jpg?v=f869ae0cdb7972b6441ba8c345d610fb&imageMogr2/format/webp)
When Love Turns To Toxic Abuse
I was a talented designer married to Christian, the boy who swore he'd always protect me from my cruel sister, Gidget. He was my childhood sweetheart, my entire world. Then I found him in our bed, tangled up with her. He swore she drugged him, but then she turned up pregnant with his child. He chose her, letting her move into our home and believing every one of her lies. When Gidget deliberately slammed a piano lid on my hand, shattering the bones and ending my career, he didn't see her malice. He saw me as the villain. He slapped me, locked me away while my hand festered, and sided with the woman he knew had tormented me my entire life. The man who was my protector became my abuser. Five years later, they walked into my new boutique, a celebrated power couple ready to offer me charity. They thought I was broken and alone. They had no idea I was remarried to a man who was about to expose every last one of their secrets to the world./0/91369/coverorgin.jpg?v=8589747b2b97feda4147e8a03dd56ab8&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Irresistible Temptation: From The Meek Wife To The Daring Star
One year into marriage, Yvonne realized she was nothing more than a substitute for someone else's memory. When his true love reappeared, Julian tossed a divorce contract her way. "She's back. We're finished," he said flatly. The secret of her pregnancy stayed hidden. Yvonne fought the urge to cry, signed her freedom, and disappeared. Five years on, cameras flashed as Yvonne, radiant in red, strode across a film festival stage with her bright-eyed son. Julian's hands clenched as he watched. "Sir, the boy's four and a half," whispered his shaken assistant. Then, he rushed to the film set only to witness an A-list actor gently wrapping his arm around Yvonne's waist. "I've booked your favorite restaurant for tonight's celebration." The little boy blinked his innocent eyes at Julian, asking, "Who are you? One of my mom's crazy admirers?" He cornered her in the dressing room, his voice hoarse as he said, "Let's remarry." Her lips curled slightly, but the smile didn't reach her eyes. "The curtain's down; it's time to end this scene." But this time, he wasn't letting go./1/107448/coverorgin.jpg?v=ab8b01312918916012409e38ad8e7ea7&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Marrying The Crippled Billionaire For Revenge
I was the top trauma surgeon at the city’s busiest hospital until my family decided I was nothing more than a disposal fee. I stood in my father’s mahogany-lined study, staring at a two-hundred-thousand-dollar check that was meant to buy my silence and my dignity. "Sign the confession, Aurelia," my father demanded, the silver cigar cutter snapping with a violent finality. They wanted me to take the fall for a medical error I never committed, all to protect my sister Dominique’s image before her high-profile merger with the Blackburn family. When I refused to sign my life away, the betrayal turned lethal. My sister planted a priceless sapphire heirloom in my bag and called the security team to search me in front of my ex-fiancé. My mother watched with cold indifference as I was branded a thief, and my father threatened to pull the plug on my grandmother’s nursing home payments by noon if I didn't vanish. I was thrown out into a freezing rainstorm with a revoked medical license, a battered suitcase, and exactly forty-two dollars to my name. Even the man I once loved looked at me with pity, believing I had stooped to grand larceny because I was jealous of my sister’s success. I stood at a bus stop, shivering and broken, wondering how my own blood could trade my truth for a corporate PR stunt. They had taken my career, my home, and my reputation, leaving me with nothing but the clothes on my back and a burning need for justice. Desperate to protect my grandmother, I sought out the one man they all feared: Avery Blackburn, the "monster" CEO rumored to be a brain-damaged vegetable. But the man I found in the shadows of the VIP wing wasn't a victim; he was a wolf waiting for the right moment to strike. "I need a shield, and you need a wife," he rasped, sliding a titanium card across the desk. I didn't hesitate to sign the marriage certificate. The Blanchards think they’ve discarded a liability, but they’re about to find out what happens when you give a desperate surgeon a billionaire’s scalpel./1/115439/coverorgin.jpg?v=1cd45255db11337bbbbc7c4963a87685&imageMogr2/format/webp)
His Unwanted Wife: The Hidden Tech Genius
For seven years, I hid my MIT Ph.D. and my identity as a top haute couture designer to be the perfect, obedient wife to billionaire Cornelius Lambert. But on our anniversary, while I waited at home with a cold dinner, I found him at a Michelin restaurant with his childhood sweetheart, Halle. My seven-year-old son sat between them, laughing loudly. "Mom is too boring. I wish Aunt Halle was my real mom." Cornelius didn't defend me. He just smiled and affectionately ruffled the boy's hair. When I finally packed my bags and left, I accidentally triggered an old AI robot prototype Cornelius had given me years ago. A hidden recording played his voice from the very night he proposed. "Why marry her? Because she's easy to control. Halle doesn't want to settle down yet, so Cassidy is just a perfect, temporary shield." Later, when I caught them being intimate in a dark parking garage and snapped a photo, Cornelius watched with cold, dead eyes as his massive bodyguard shoved me against a concrete pillar. My arm was torn open, blood dripping onto the floor, as they forced me to delete the evidence of his affair. For seven years, I filed down every sharp edge of my brilliance for a man who saw me as nothing but a pathetic, disposable placeholder. My heart turned to absolute ice. He thought I was just a weak, powerless housewife. But he forgot who he was dealing with. As his luxury car drove away, I pulled up the hidden command terminal on my phone and recovered the encrypted cloud backup of the photos. I looked at my lawyer with a bleeding arm and a cold smile. "Let's go. Now, we have a weapon."/0/58451/coverorgin.jpg?v=96d5e30655fcee301e49b821dcedb557&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Twisted Hearts
My brother hates me, he hates me. He can't accept having a sister with a mental illness. He often deliberately provokes me to have an episode in front of others. Making me look ugly. The most common phrase he says is: "Haylen， I really wish you were dead from your illness." Later, I really died. But he went crazy. Every day stubbornly imitating my ugly appearance when I have an episode. Begging me to appear in his dreams for a glance./0/70314/coverorgin.jpg?v=8709cc70a4f2692ee3150227ded2defe&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Help, My Tycoon Husband Refuses To Divorce
As far as everyone was concerned, William had married Renee under duress. Now that his one true love was back—and with child—they couldn’t wait for him to abandon Renee. Surprisingly, Renee was candid about the situation. "To be honest, I’m the one asking for a divorce every single day. I want it even more than any of you!" But they brushed off her remark as a paltry attempt to save face. Until William made a declaration himself. "Divorce is out of the question. Anyone who spreads false rumors shall face legal consequences!" Renee was at a loss. What was this crazy man up to now?/0/40025/coverorgin.jpg?v=f6ca7f3c1fb521949838b99ddd9375c0&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Mistaken Marriage, Unexpected Love
It was a big day for Camilla. She looked forward to marrying her handsome groom. Unfortunately, he abandoned her at the altar. He never showed up throughout the wedding. She was made a laughingstock in front of all the guests. In a fit of rage, she went and slept with a strange man on her wedding night. It was supposed to be a one-night stand. To her dismay, the man refused to let her be. He pestered her like she had stolen his heart on that night. Camilla didn't know what to do. Should she give him a chance? Or just stay away from men?/1/105661/coverorgin.jpg?v=25c02c15bc3d1eb312eceffbc20b1a1b&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Billionaire's Cold And Bitter Betrayal
I had just survived a private jet crash, my body a map of violet bruises and my lungs still burning from the smoke. I woke up in a sterile hospital room, gasping for my husband's name, only to realize I was completely alone. While I was bleeding in a ditch, my husband, Adam, was on the news smiling at a ribbon-cutting ceremony. When I tracked him down at the hospital's VIP wing, I didn't find a grieving husband. I found him tenderly cradling his ex-girlfriend, Casie, in his arms, his face lit with a protective warmth he had never shown me as he carried her into the maternity ward. The betrayal went deeper than I could have imagined. Adam admitted the affair started on our third anniversary-the night he claimed he was stuck in London for a merger. Back at the manor, his mother had already filled our planned nursery with pink boutique bags for Casie's "little princess." When I demanded a divorce, Adam didn't flinch. He sneered that I was "gutter trash" from a foster home and that I'd be begging on the streets within a week. To trap me, he froze my bank accounts, cancelled my flight, and even called the police to report me for "theft" of company property. I realized then that I wasn't his partner; I was a charity case he had plucked from obscurity to manage his life. To the Hortons, I was just a servant who happened to sleep in the master bedroom, a "resilient" woman meant to endure his abuse in silence while the whole world laughed at the joke that was my marriage. Adam thought stripping me of his money would make me crawl back to him. He was wrong. I walked into his executive suite during his biggest deal of the year and poured a mug of sludge over his original ten-million-dollar contracts. Then, right in front of his board and his mistress, I stripped off every designer thread he had ever paid for until I was standing in nothing but my own silk camisole. "You can keep the clothes, Adam. They're as hollow as you are." I grabbed my passport, turned my back on his billions, and walked out of that glass tower barefoot, bleeding, and finally free./1/126349/coverorgin.jpg?v=2adc4104fd93031edc07b75a18af2b6b&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Hockey Star's Runaway Fake Girlfriend
I was the fake contract girlfriend of Christian Carlisle, Briar University's star hockey captain. On the night he returned to town, I foolishly made a perfect dinner and waited for him, only to find out he was busy drinking at a frat party. Worse, when his elite family summoned me, he publicly humiliated me at their dinner table, mocking me as a desperate stray who didn't belong in their world. When I finally snapped and told him I was done, he drove me out to a desolate, pitch-black highway and abandoned me by the side of the road with my suitcase. Days later, his mother's assistant called to coldly evict me from our apartment. Then came the email: a legal termination agreement offering me a fifty-thousand-dollar severance fee to shut up and disappear from his life forever. Meanwhile, the campus blogs were already celebrating his reunion with his wealthy childhood sweetheart, painting me as a pathetic gold-digger who finally got what she deserved. Fifty thousand dollars. That was the exact price they put on my dignity and two years of my youth. They really thought they could just buy my silence, crush my pride, and discard me like trash without a second thought. I didn't cry, and I didn't sign the papers. Instead, I picked up my phone and sent the untouchable hockey king one last text. "I saw the agreement. Before I sign anything, I want to see you one last time. You name the time and place."/1/102832/coverorgin.jpg?v=2627c0114cb122d2044b41dc77a206e1&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Ex-Wife's Unforgiving Revenge
My fiancé, Grayson Malone, had me locked in a mental institution while I was pregnant. He stole our son, Adam, and let his mistress raise him as her own. For six years, I survived in poverty, secretly raising our daughter, Ida-the one he never knew existed. Our worlds finally collided at a school event. His mistress, Kiera, shoved Ida, whose head cracked against a metal chair. Her heart stopped. In the ensuing panic, Grayson found a journal I "accidentally" dropped. It was his dead sister's diary, holding the truth that proved Kiera's lies had destroyed my entire family. Now, consumed by guilt, he's begging for a second chance. He thinks he can buy my forgiveness. He has no idea I'm about to take everything from him, just like he did to me./0/93752/coverorgin.jpg?v=d2780e8800454180875226695a5cf200&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Priceless Diva Who Left His World In Ruins
Her ex-husband declared, "The person I admired most was that legendary racer." She smiled thinly. "Hate to break it to you-that was me." He said, "Jealous I blew a fortune on a world-famous jeweler for Violet?" She let out a cool laugh. "Funny, that designer trained under me." He scoffed, "Buying a dying firm won't put you in my league. Snap out of it." She shrugged. "Weird-I just steered your company off a cliff." Stunned, he blurted out, "Baby, come back. I'll love you forever." She wrinkled her nose. "Hard pass. Keep your cheap love." Then she took a mogul's arm and never looked back./0/57264/coverorgin.jpg?v=0095406804045697e4f694fce6b4edfb&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Addicted To The Genius Lady With A Thousand Faces
She was a world-renowned divine doctor, the CEO of a publicly traded company, the most formidable female mercenary, and a top-tier tech genius. Marissa, a titan with a plethora of secret identities, had hidden her true stature to marry a seemingly impoverished young man. However, on the eve of their wedding, her fiance, who was actually the lost heir to a wealthy dynasty, called off the engagement and subjected her to degradation and mockery. Upon the revelation of her concealed identities, her ex-fiance was left stunned and desperately pleaded for her forgiveness. Standing protectively before Marissa, an incredibly influential and fearsome magnate declared, "This is my wife. Who would dare try to claim her?"/0/85220/coverorgin.jpg?v=0bbbd261667ce454549536db740ca40e&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Love's Deception, A Fortune's Rebirth
The plan was simple: two weeks of quiet solitude at my apartment, a much-needed break from the relentless grind of my architecture career. But the moment I unlocked the door, a cloying, unfamiliar perfume assaulted my senses, followed by the sight of a stranger lounging on my custom velvet sofa, nonchalantly filing her nails. "Can I help you?" she drawled, dripping with disdain, as I stood dumbfounded in the doorway of my own home, apartment 3B. This woman, Tiffany Stone, introduced herself as my brother Liam' s new girlfriend, claiming this was "Liam's place," scoffing at my very career and dismissing my deeply personal space as a mere "graduation present" for a girl who "drew buildings." The audacity escalated swiftly. Tiffany and her mother, Mrs. Stone-a woman cloaked in fur and radiating venom-informed me they were "redecorating" my apartment and expected me to find a hotel. My cherished minimalist decor and art prints had vanished, replaced by gaudy, tasteless clutter. When I tried to reach my bedroom, where my personal safe contained the deed to the apartment, they physically blocked my path, declaring, "It's not your room anymore. It's our guest room." My own family, my own brother, seemed to be orchestrating this hostile takeover. The situation spiraled into a nightmare; a physical altercation broke out, leaving me bruised and bleeding, yet they accused me of assault. The building manager, Mr. Davis, shockingly sided with them, presenting falsified records to claim the apartment belonged to Liam. Then Liam himself arrived, not as a rescuer, but as the architect of my downfall, embracing Tiffany, feigning concern, and publicly humiliating me. He flatly stated he had transferred the deed to his name and then, with a chilling smile, proposed to essentially sell me off to a business associate. Every accusation, every betrayal, shattered my reality. He even revealed I was adopted, not truly a Reed, trying to strip away my entire identity. But in that moment, as I lay on the floor, a cold clarity crystallized. He had given me a weapon. I seized my T-square, shattered a mirror in a defiant act, and ran, finally breaking free to call for help. From the depths of betrayal, armed with undeniable evidence from a hidden camera and a desperate revelation that Liam, not I, was the adopted one, I watched as Liam, Tiffany, her mother, and the building manager were arrested, their carefully constructed lies crumbling on national television. This was not just about reclaiming an apartment. It was about rebuilding a legacy, reshaping my family's future, and redefining my own purpose./1/101980/coverorgin.jpg?v=4654ad3d0f5d01cb359c3c48c9cbf108&imageMogr2/format/webp)
From Barren Wife To The Don's Queen
I was reviewing the laundering accounts when my husband asked for a hundred thousand dollars for the nanny. It took three seconds for me to realize the woman he was trying to pay off was wearing my missing vintage Chanel earrings. Damian looked me in the eye, using his best doctor's voice. "She is struggling, Ainsley. She has five boys to feed." When Casey walked in, she wasn't wearing a uniform. She was wearing my jewelry and looking at my husband with intimate familiarity. Instead of apologizing when I confronted them, Damian protected her. He looked at me with a mixture of pity and disgust. "She is a good mother," he sneered. "Something you wouldn't understand." He used the infertility I had spent millions trying to cure as a weapon against me. He didn't know that I had just received the investigator's file. The file that proved those five boys were his. The file that proved he had gotten a secret vasectomy six months before we started trying for a baby. He had let me endure years of painful procedures, hormones, and shame, all while funding his secret family with my father's money. I looked at the man I had shielded from the violence of my world so he could play god in a white coat. I didn't scream. I am a Pierce. We execute. I picked up my phone and dialed my enforcer. "I want him ruined. I want him to have nothing. I want him to wish he was dead."/1/113110/coverorgin.jpg?v=18efeb16c2c3d196a20279b13c3be270&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Lie Behind His Perfect Life
For three years, my husband Hudson convinced everyone I was crazy. My parents. Our friends. Even my own therapist. He said my suspicions were just anxiety. PTSD from our miscarriage. That I needed my medication and a good night's sleep. But a pink butterfly hair clip in his car told a different story. It wasn't mine. And we don't have children. When I confronted him, he sighed with practiced patience—the same sigh he'd perfected over three years of making me doubt my own mind. "It belongs to a client's daughter," he said, reaching for my pills. "Your anxiety is flaring up again." I almost believed him. I always almost believed him. But this time, I didn't back down. I invited his mistress and their three-year-old son to our family dinner. With the DNA test results in my purse, I was ready to burn his perfect world to the ground. He thought he could gaslight me forever. He was wrong./1/106348/coverorgin.jpg?v=cfdd85cd68ef29c4dbcae8a2558e38f0&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Billionaire's Rival: My Sweet Revenge
I had spent two years playing the perfect Stepford Wife to billionaire Brittain Kane, acting as the obedient accessory while he built his empire. I played the fool until I found his second phone, the one filled with messages and photos of a nineteen-year-old hostess. Determined to balance the scales, I checked into the Pierre Hotel and spent twenty-five thousand dollars to hire a high-end male escort. I wanted one night of rebellion to wash away the two years of humiliation and finally even the score. But when the heavy footsteps stopped outside my door, the man who walked in wasn’t the professional I had booked. It was Harrison Juarez—my husband’s most ruthless business rival and supposed "best friend." He stood there in a suit that cost more than my car, holding a screenshot of my scandalous booking on his phone. My blood turned to ice as I realized my carefully constructed exit plan was over. He had the proof, the leverage, and the power to leave me with nothing in a divorce. He mocked my "cheap courage" and told me that sleeping with a hired hand wouldn't hurt a man like Brittain; he’d just pay the guy off and buy me a new car to shut me up. The fear inside me snapped, replaced by a cold, hard clarity. I looked at the man who held my life in his hands and realized he wasn't there to expose me. He was there because he was petty, effective, and wanted to destroy Brittain just as much as I did. "If you really want to make Brittain Kane lose his mind," Harrison whispered, his voice rough against my ear, "you don't need a gigolo. You need me." I didn't hesitate. I reached into my bag, pulled out my husband’s black Centurion card, and tossed it at my husband's greatest enemy. I told him to book the most expensive penthouse in the city, because if I was going to ruin my marriage, I was going to do it on Brittain’s dime with the one man he feared most./0/55908/coverorgin.jpg?v=2331ca7a85fb14a92436b98aa54e8fd3&imageMogr2/format/webp)
