Modern Books for Women
Bestsellers Ongoing Completed
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The Orphan's Reckoning
I was an orphan, adrift in the real world, until I found what I believed was stability and love in the Continuum Program. Here, in this vivid simulation, I was a "Prime Beneficiary," granted a perfect life with my chosen partner, Chloe. I clung to our "perfect emotional bond," making every sacrifice and enduring agonizing "Feedback Dissonance" for her "brain injury," convinced it was the price of true devotion. But everything shattered the moment a simulated car deliberately slammed into me. Standing over my broken body were Chloe and Liam, her long-hidden lover, her "brain injury" miraculously gone. "Your Prime Beneficiary status. We need it," Liam sneered, while Chloe callously admitted her love and injury were lies, a manipulative act to keep me until they could steal my life. My hard-won status, my entire programmed existence, was merely a resource for their personal gain. They stripped me bare, taking my savings, forcing me to kneel and crawl for a few coins in an act of ultimate humiliation. Then, Liam confessed: he had maliciously lied to my only remaining family, my kind surrogate grandfather Mr. Henderson, directly causing his death. Overwhelmed by a tidal wave of betrayal, grief, and unbridled fury, I stared into the void of my shattered life. How could I have been so blind, so trusting, to the monsters I had cherished? The years of Dissonance, the mental agony I'd endured, were not my failing, but the bitter harvest of their deceit. For a moment, I considered ending it all, pressing the self-deletion button to escape this torment. But a new, cold resolve hardened within me, sharper than any pain they had inflicted. "I'd like to stay," I told them, my voice hollow. I offered to be their housekeeper for the brief time remaining before my forced exit. My real intention was a dark, patient vigil: to witness the very "perfect bond" they coveted, the one that had broken me, tear them apart, piece by agonizing piece./0/85102/coverorgin.jpg?v=20260106205711&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Wife Who Destroyed Me
The cold concrete walls of the visitor' s room blurred. My wife, Sarah, sat opposite me, her eyes burning with contempt, dressed in a sharp business suit. "Ethan, that data-exfiltration device was clearly planted by you," her voice, a venomous echo, replayed. "You were just jealous of Alex and wanted him dead! I truly regret leaving Alex for a simpleton like you; you deserve to rot in prison for what you did to him!" That was the last time I saw her before the life sentence. Before everything went black. The betrayal was so fresh, it felt like it happened only a second ago. Alex Thornton, her charismatic tech mogul mentor, gifted her a sleek, black smart ring. As an FBI agent, I recognized it immediately: a sophisticated data-exfiltration device. I tried to warn her, even reported it to the Bureau, cushioning the blow to protect her, sacrificing my own promotion. It was a fatal mistake. Alex died in a suspicious car accident as the FBI closed in. My grieving, loving Sarah then wove a web of digital lies, leaking classified intel and manipulating logs, pointing every piece of evidence directly at me. The jealous, jilted husband. The perfect story. Then, a jarring, insistent beeping cut through the darkness of my prison cell memory. I gasped, my eyes flying open. I wasn' t in a cell. I was in my own bed. My alarm clock. 7:00 AM. My heart hammered. Sarah was still asleep. On her nightstand, gleaming, was the smart ring. It was today. The day it all began. A cold dread washed over me, followed by something hot and sharp: a second chance. The humiliation, the cold slap of betrayal, her mocking words. My colleagues' faces, pity mixed with confusion, as they cuffed me. I had sacrificed everything for a woman who saw me as a simpleton. The love I felt for her was now a black hole. In the quiet of the morning, with the woman who would destroy me sleeping peacefully beside me, I made a new vow. Not of love, or loyalty, but of self-preservation. And justice./0/87605/coverorgin.jpg?v=20260302102949&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Everything's wrong, but it's fine. You became the mistress.
Marília Marques always followed the rules: she built a solid career as a lawyer, far from scandal and with an impeccable reputation she was proud of. Until she met Fábio Cruz, owner of an irresistible smile, a gaze that belied any defense... and a wedding ring he conveniently "forgot" to put on that first night. What should have been just a slip-up turned into an addiction that's hard to overcome. Secret encounters, disappearing messages, photos that are only seen once, and a desire that knows no time, morality, or logic. Now, Marília finds herself trapped between the weight of her own conscience... and the desire to have him in her bed every time he texts her: "I miss you." But Fábio is hiding more than just a marriage. And when the truth threatens to explode, Marília will have to decide: Does she save herself... or does she continue to surrender her life to a man who would never give up his comfortable life for her? Because there are decisions you can't make with your head. And there are loves that hurt before they begin./0/39579/coverorgin.jpg?v=20230415010742&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Fox Trap: Eternal Love
Han Quan Du was a fox for thousands of years, only to be able to cultivate to become a human. During a run away, she was injured by a hunter and saved by a man, but Han Jun Du soon had to marry Huo Trieu Vu, the disabled young master of the Huo family in love. state of bewilderment. Han Jun Du was extremely confused, because in this world, humans were almost unaware of the presence of foxes, they lived in a remote area, so as soon as he got married, Han Jun Du got married. caused all sorts of problems. Huo Trieu Vu is known as a cold person, but his actions have caused himself to be slapped in the face. He will always secretly pay attention to his little wife. In a family that always smells of gunpowder, two people give each other the most sincere feelings, warming the other's cold hearts. At the same time, she also used magic to slowly heal Huo Trieu Vu's legs. Love arises, at the same time mysteries are revealed. Han Jun Du is not an ordinary person, will Huo Trieu Vu still love her like before? Besides, what is the identity behind that disabled boy? Unsolved mysteries are gradually revealed, can Han Quan Du and Huo Trieu Vu hold hands to the end of the road? Excerpt: Han Quan Du lay cross-legged on the bed, leisurely looking at the handsome man, the scene accidentally caught Huo Trieu Vu's eyes. He grimaced, two unpleasant words showed clearly in his eyes, the man grumbled: "My husband doesn't look at me next to me, it's full of people somewhere." The air around him smelled of sour vinegar. "What the hell do you know? Ah, but Huo Trieu Vu, you have experienced the feeling of enjoyment, right?" Han Jun Du raised his lips and raised his face, mocking her husband. Whose face was as black as the bottom of a pot, Huo Trieu Vu snarled each word: "I am paralyzed in my legs, but other organs are still functioning normally. Do you want to enjoy it? I will let you soar cloud nine!" "..." Please, please!/1/110445/coverorgin.jpg?v=20260525001858&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Dump The Cheater, Marry The King: The Unrivaled CEO Claimed Me As Wife
When Leanna caught her fiancé in another woman's arms, she didn't cry, beg, or break. Instead, she walked straight toward the one man no one dared approach. Leanna had assumed she'd slept with her fiancé's uncle, but she soon realized the dangerously composed man was far more than what he seemed. Behind his calm gaze hid one secret identity after another. Worst of all, she had believed the rumors that he was an impotent man, until he gripped her wrist, pinned her beneath him, and declared firmly, "You will carry my child." Red-faced, Leanna answered, "Okay."/0/94332/coverorgin.jpg?v=b6467aef03f7b56d1c5c5c99586de9ef&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Left For Dead, I Rise Again
My husband left me to die in a car wreck. When I survived and confronted his mistress, he fractured my skull. But that wasn't the worst thing he did. After his mistress framed me for an injury, he cornered me in a hospital hallway. He took my right hand-the one I used to be a brilliant architect-and deliberately broke it, ending my career. He thought he had destroyed my future. He had no idea he had just declared war./0/83225/coverorgin.jpg?v=20260106202205&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Her Hidden Family, His Stolen Life
For two decades, Ethan diligently built a restaurant empire alongside his wife, Sarah, fulfilling their DINK pact. He even underwent a vasectomy and publicly claimed infertility, protecting her from family judgment, believing their shared dream was unbreakable. Then, a single legal document shattered his meticulously crafted world: a share transfer agreement for two 10-year-olds, Finn and Belle Miller. A quiet inquiry confirmed the unthinkable – they were Sarah' s secret children, born a decade ago, with her "childhood friend," Mark. Sarah, chillingly, dismissed them as a "platonic favor," clarifying she still didn't want children "with him." Her family sided with her, portraying Ethan as unreasonable. Humiliation deepened at a public party when Sarah announced major company shares would go to Finn and Belle, cementing Ethan's public replacement. The ultimate insult: when Finn lied about Ethan, Sarah, without a blink, slapped her husband, choosing her secret son's word over their twenty years of marriage. How could he have been so blind? He'd sacrificed his chance at fatherhood, endured silent pity and judgment, all for a woman who secretly built an entire, separate life, using his devotion as camouflage. The betrayal cut deeper than any physical wound. With cold resolve, Ethan signed the divorce papers, leaving behind a video revealing the truth of Finn' s lie and Sarah' s unquestioning cruelty. He walked out forever, ready to find a peace she' d never allowed him./0/85728/coverorgin.jpg?v=20260106210440&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Her Betrayal, My Freedom
My wife, Sarah, started acting strange about a week ago. She was walking on eggshells, her smile never quite reaching her eyes. Then came dinner, where she sprung it on me: "I was looking online and found a great clinic that does comprehensive health check-ups. They have a couples' package." It sounded reasonable, but the forced casualness in her voice made my stomach tighten. We were both in perfect health. I looked at her, really looked at her, and saw not concern, but a desperate, calculating fear. "Sarah, what' s this really about?" I asked, and the pretense of a normal dinner shattered. She confessed, not with words, but with a flinch: this was about Mark, her childhood sweetheart, who was dying and needed a kidney. The "comprehensive health check-up" was a screening – for me. "He' s not my ex-boyfriend!" she cried. "He' s my friend! And I' m just asking you to get tested. That' s all. It' s just a blood test. It' s not a big deal." Not a big deal? My body, my organ, reduced to a spare part. Then came the ultimate bargaining chip: "If you' re a match… and if you decide to do it… I' ll do anything. We can finally start our family. We can have a baby, just like you' ve always wanted." The baby I wanted so desperately was now a reward for donating my kidney to the man she truly loved. In that moment, I saw her with soul-crushing clarity. Her priority wasn' t me. It was him. My parents, her unwitting accomplices, had already been brought in. My mother, trembling, begged me to go. My father simply said, "Son, listen to your wife." I was trapped, but I refused to be just a means to an end. When I signed that non-disclosure agreement, forced by threats against my aging father, I was bleeding, desperate, and completely broken. But when I saw Sarah and Mark, pregnant, together in the hospital hallway, something cold and clear ignited within me. They thought they had won. They thought I was broken and silent. They were wrong./1/110758/coverorgin.jpg?v=20260313212408&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Robot Wife He Never Knew
Before I died, I used my life's work in robotics to build a bionic replica of myself for my husband. She had my exact face and body, but none of my temper. She never threw tantrums, never picked fights, and never raised her voice. Yet my husband, Ethan, had no idea she was actually a machine. He despised "my" newly submissive and obedient attitude. To provoke me, he constantly brought women home, desperately trying to drive me mad with jealousy. But he never succeeded. Until one day, his first love—the one who had once walked out on him—threw a cup of scalding coffee right in "my" face. To Ethan's astonishment, not only did I not scream in pain, but my skin didn't even turn red. He finally realized that I was already dead./0/81035/coverorgin.jpg?v=20260106194633&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Comeback Engineer: No More Second Chances
At NovaFlight Dynamics, I was "the guy who couldn't get his fiancée to the altar." Alex Miller. My fiancée, Jessica Thorne, a co-founder, had canceled our wedding thirty-two times. I poured my genius into NovaFlight' s critical satellite launch, always putting her first, even as the 33rd date loomed. She canceled again, for Leo Maxwell, a junior engineer. That night, at the pre-launch party, Jessica, radiant, openly fed Leo a canapé. He flashed a new luxury smartwatch, mirroring hers. On our seven-year anniversary, Leo's Instagram showed them clinking champagne glasses: "Celebrating a successful partnership!" I resigned, publicly terminating our engagement. Jessica, smelling of Leo' s cologne, abandoned me for his 'crisis.' My engagement ring? Tossed aside. I threw it in the trash. At the office, Leo 'accidentally' destroyed my personal research laptop with corrosive solvent. Jessica witnessed it, then shrieked, blaming me and demanding I credit Leo for my groundbreaking designs. My very dignity was systematically dismantled. My dedication, my love, my future-all casually destroyed. The future she spoke of was a cruel, hollow joke. A dark government vehicle waited. I powered down my old phone as her casual 'raincheck' text buzzed one last time. I stepped into the car without a single look back. This wasn't an end; it was finally, unequivocally, my beginning./0/80253/coverorgin.jpg?v=20260106193257&imageMogr2/format/webp)
My Brother, My Captor
My parents died in Hurricane Antoine, and my brother Liam lost the use of his legs saving me. Or so I believed. For years, I slaved under the Louisiana sun, ignoring my own pain, funneling every cent into his supposed care. Then, strange, glowing texts flickered into my vision, revealing a horrifying truth: “She has no idea the 'medical bills' are just his entry fees for the swamp boat races.” My world shattered when I confronted Liam, not a cripple, but agile and triumphant, kissing Chloe Dubois – the woman who called herself his "friend." His cruel laughter echoed as he revealed his "disability" was a lie, blaming me for our parents’ deaths with chilling precision. They saw my years of sacrifice as a joke, a twisted game. When I tried to escape, he sabotaged me, leaving me homeless and attacking the kind professor who offered me aid. How could the brother who once protected me harbor such profound hatred? Was my entire life a cruel charade, meticulously scripted by Chloe to cast me as "cannon fodder" in their twisted love story? The suffocating weight of this predetermined fate pushed me to the brink. Yet, a profound choice loomed. Liam, facing death, finally deciphered Chloe’s insidious manipulations, revealing the true narrative of our lives. In a desperate, final act, he accepted his fate, sacrificing himself to shatter her cruel script and erase my agonizing memories. His sacrifice gifted me peace and a new beginning, leaving only a lingering, blurred sense of a love that defied all odds./0/84164/coverorgin.jpg?v=20260106203836&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Ex Who Wouldn't Let Go
Six years ago, I fled my hometown and the toxic shadow of my ex, Stella, rebuilding a new life far away with my loving wife, Maria, and our sweet daughter. Returning for my high school reunion felt like a minor obligation, a chapter I thought was long closed. But Stella, ever the master of drama, blindsided me by announcing her engagement to the very man she left me for, using the moment to publicly humiliate me. I retaliated with a calm, pointed gift that shattered her grand announcement, but her obsession only escalated. She ambushed my wife and me, hurled hateful insults at Maria, then shockingly, physically assaulted our innocent five-year-old daughter. A cold rage consumed me as the woman who once broke my heart turned her venom on my family, framing me for assault when I protected my child. Then the anonymous online attacks began, a vicious smear campaign against Maria and me that threatened to destroy everything I had built. Was this simply her desperate revenge, or was there something more sinister behind her relentless malice? I would not let her win; I set a trap, a public reckoning to expose Stella's lies once and for all and reclaim my family's peace./1/113105/coverorgin.jpg?v=60b153d8fc84563874551e2474af58c0&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Billionaire's Wife Escapes To Antarctica
The anniversary candles were burning down, and the Wagyu beef had long gone cold. I waited for two hours, but Brigham never came home. Instead, a push notification shattered the silence. It was a live video from an exclusive club, showing my husband laughing with Giselle Leach—the woman he claimed was just a business acquaintance. In the footage, he pulled her into his chest to shield her from a champagne spray, his hand possessive on her hip. The humiliation stung, but the printed apology card he sent via his butler later that night was the final insult. He didn't even bother to sign it by hand. My life felt like a hollow performance, a series of lies meant to keep up appearances for a man who kept me as a placeholder while his heart belonged to someone else. I felt like an idiot, holding onto a marriage that had been dead for years. Why did I keep trying to fix something that was never mine to begin with? Then, the email arrived—a three-year research expedition in Antarctica. It required me to cut off all outside contact. I looked at the man who had treated me like a disposable accessory, then at the screen. I didn't hesitate. I typed my acceptance, ready to leave the life, the lies, and the man who never saw me behind forever./0/64766/coverorgin.jpg?v=20250331100733&imageMogr2/format/webp)
BRIDE TO THE MAFIA HEIR
Step into the gritty world of Boston's Irish mob, where Roberto Connolly, the heir to a powerful crime family, finds himself in an arranged marriage with Kylie Morgan, the strong-willed daughter of a rival clan. Will their forced union ignite genuine passion, or will their families' dark secrets tear them apart? As they grapple with their growing attraction, they face threats from all sides. Can their love withstand the dangerous world they've been thrust into, or will betrayal and violence shatter their newfound bond?/1/102311/coverorgin.jpg?v=064f893b9a8b11d49eef517864d2859c&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Emma Russell: The Woman Reborn
My anniversary dinner ended not with a kiss, but with my husband Cole cheating on me with my cousin, Britney. He kicked me out of our home, the one my father helped us buy, and banished me to the guest house. But when I arrived, Britney was already there, wearing my favorite silk robe, smirking as she told me I'd be staying in the damp basement apartment instead. Down in the cold, musty cellar, I found what my father left me: proof that Cole hadn't just married me. He had orchestrated the hostile takeover that destroyed my father's company, drove him to his death, and then married me to steal everything that was left, including my life's work, a project called "Aura." He had me committed to a psychiatric facility, telling everyone I was unstable. He thought he had buried me, but my childhood friend Eric helped me fake my death in a staged car crash. Now, years later, I've returned. Under a new name, Iris, I've created a new masterpiece that has the tech world buzzing, and it's about to bring Cole's empire to its knees. He thinks Emma Russell is dead. He has no idea she's about to destroy him./0/83695/coverorgin.jpg?v=20260106202742&imageMogr2/format/webp)
She Tried To Steal My Life. I Took Her Future.
The last thing I remembered was the stench of stale beer and damp asphalt, then the crunch of my own bones. My best friend Becca, my sorority little sister, stood by, pointing, her face a mask of cold satisfaction. She had used my ID, my photos, my name for her own sinister schemes, and it led to my brutal death in that alley by loan sharks. Killed simply because I was too trusting, too kind, too naive to see her for what she truly was. But then, I woke up. The scent of lavender laundry detergent filled the air, my body was whole, no pain, no blood. And then I heard it – the soft click of a phone camera. Becca, standing in my doorway, phone aimed at me, just like the day it all began. This time, there would be no pity, no forgiveness. This time, I was ready./1/117329/coverorgin.jpg?v=20260608181313&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Reborn Heiress: The Billionaire's Deadly Vow
I gave up everything to be the perfect fiancée to Jemal and the grateful sister to Claire. But as I lay dying on a cold warehouse floor, I watched them passionately kiss over my bleeding body. "Damn it, look at my suit. This was custom," Jemal complained, flicking my blood from his cuff. "Oh, don't be such a baby. She was always so gullible," Claire laughed, mocking my dying gasps. They admitted every promise and sisterly defense was a lie to steal my inheritance and save his bankrupt company. As my soul detached, the warehouse doors burst open. It was Braxton Shields, the ruthless Wall Street titan whose arranged engagement I had broken off years ago. The famously cold billionaire fell to his knees in my blood, his stoic mask shattering into raw agony. He gently cleaned my face, pulled out a hidden photo of me, and kissed my cold forehead. "I'm sorry, Alex. I was too late. I should have never let you go." Without hesitation, he drank a vial of poison and slumped dead beside me. The shock of his ultimate devotion and my own foolish blindness tore my soul apart. Why did I choose my murderers over the man who loved me enough to die for me? Opening my eyes again, I was back in my eighteen-year-old body. It was the exact day I was welcomed back into the toxic Vargas family from foster care. This time, they would all pay./0/89014/coverorgin.jpg?v=0cfef9e4f65fc5fe41993fa978d6e1d8&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Husband's Frame, Wife's Fierce Justice
My husband, Alec Craig, was Chicago' s star prosecutor, the man who saved me from a dark past. Or so I thought. He was the man who sent me to prison, framing me for a crime I didn't commit to protect his ex-girlfriend, Catalina. My three years in Joliet Correctional Center were a blur of concrete and gray uniforms. The woman who went in, a successful graphic designer who loved her husband, died in there. When I was finally released, I expected to see him, but he sent an assistant to "cleanse my bad energy." Then I saw them: Alec and Catalina, hosting a "welcome home" party for me, the woman they put behind bars. They paraded me around, forcing me to drink champagne until I bled internally from a perforated ulcer. Alec, ever the devoted protector, rushed to Catalina's side, leaving me bleeding on the floor. He even falsified my medical report, blaming my condition on alcohol. I lay in that hospital bed, the last remnants of hope withering and dying. I couldn't cry. The feeling was too deep for tears. I just laughed, a wild, unhinged sound. I wanted to destroy him. Not jail. I wanted him to lose everything. His career. His reputation. His precious Catalina. I wanted him to feel what I felt./1/117642/coverorgin.jpg?v=20260715193518&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Billionaire's Obsession: Reclaiming His Heiress
After surviving a murder attempt in the freezing ocean, I finally made it back to the wealthy family that abandoned me years ago. I crashed my half-sister Bryana’s lavish 21st birthday party. Instead of welcoming me, my father looked at me with pure disgust, and my aunt—who had married him right after my mother's death—immediately started scheming. "Get this disgusting beggar out of here before she ruins my party!" Bryana shrieked, demanding security throw me out like trash. When they realized they couldn't just get rid of me, Bryana handed me an unforgiving, skin-tight Gucci gown and twelve-centimeter stiletto heels. She set up a harsh spotlight on the grand staircase, fully intending to watch me stumble and become the ultimate laughingstock in front of New York's elite. They thought I was still the pathetic, penniless country girl they had left to rot in Pennsylvania. They thought they could step all over me and keep their dark secrets buried. They had no idea what I had endured to survive, or the ruthless billionaire whose life I had just saved on a deserted island. I didn't panic or cry. I calmly put on the dress, applied my makeup with a surgeon's cold precision, and stepped into the spotlight. As I walked down those stairs flawlessly, silencing the entire room, I knew the real war had just begun. I was going to uncover the truth about my mother's death and tear their perfect lives apart./0/86824/coverorgin.jpg?v=20260106212622&imageMogr2/format/webp)
