Modern Books for Women
Bestsellers Ongoing Completed
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Miller's True Heir
I was a ghost in my own home, the late Senator Miller's biological daughter, overshadowed by my adopted sister, Jessica. My stepfather, Governor Thompson, doted on her, giving her my mother's cherished suite, my fiancé, even the "Senator Miller Legacy Scholarship" that was always meant for me. Tonight, at the glittering gala, they finalized the blatant theft. As Jessica preened on stage, accepting my scholarship, a cold resolve solidified in my gut. I walked, not ran, straight to the podium, my worn dress a stark contrast to the opulent crowd. "That scholarship," I stated, my voice clear, "belongs to me." Jessica's perfect victim act launched instantly, tears streaming as she clung to my enraged stepfather. His face turned to stone. "This is not the time or place, Sarah!" he thundered, but I wouldn't move. "She's just jealous!" chorused Jessica's elite circle, labeling me "unhinged." Even Ethan Vance, my supposed future, looked at me with disdain, offering Jessica a supportive smile. Then, the unthinkable: my stepfather's open hand connected with my face, the crack echoing in the stunned silence. "You are no daughter of hers!" he spat, humiliating me. "Jessica is the only daughter I care to acknowledge!" My eyes burned, not from the sting of the slap, but from the searing, public injustice. How could the truth be so twisted, my very identity erased by the man who claimed to protect me? Was I truly going mad, or was this entire world? Just as Governor Thompson threatened to send me away to an institution, the grand ballroom doors burst open. There stood my Uncle Marcus, a decorated U.S. Army Four-Star General, his gaze piercing through the stunned crowd straight to me. My lifeline had arrived, and their carefully constructed lies were about to crumble./1/109685/coverorgin.jpg?v=a7e47fb1896ac808a5a6123946b175ca&imageMogr2/format/webp)
He Chose Her, I Chose Us
On our tenth anniversary, I found the divorce papers my husband, Drake, had secretly filed a year ago. That same night, I watched him walk into our favorite restaurant, his arm wrapped around his pregnant campaign manager, Chelsea. I soon learned his plan was more monstrous than a simple affair. He had tricked me into signing the papers, intending for me to raise his mistress's child as my own-a perfect political cover for the wife who couldn't conceive. When Chelsea later faked a fall and blamed me, the hatred in Drake's eyes confirmed everything. "If anything happens to her or my child," he snarled, shoving me aside, "I will never forgive you." He didn't know my secret. After twelve agonizing rounds of IVF, I was finally pregnant-with twins. He had made his choice, and now I was making mine. I would disappear with my children, and he would never see us again./0/84378/coverorgin.jpg?v=9f386b5dfe26bbf93e471a555096ccfd&imageMogr2/format/webp)
My Fiancee's Lie: A Conspiracy Unraveled
My name is Ethan Hughes. I was a decorated Army Ranger, but PTSD brought me back to civilian life, seeking quiet stability with my brilliant fiancée, Sabrina, and my childhood best friend, Anthony. One night, the medication for my PTSD hit harder than usual, a thick fog pulling me under. Then, a sharp, chemical scent - gas. Through the haze, I saw Sabrina, methodical, setting up the apartment. And Anthony, watching her from the doorway. "Is it done?" he asked, his voice low. "I've planted the data trail," Sabrina replied, grabbing my laptop. "It'll look like he downloaded the files and then, overcome with guilt, decided to end it. A tragic story of a damaged veteran." My mind screamed. They were framing me for treason. My fiancée. My best friend. As the gas thickened, Anthony' s cold eyes met mine, devoid of friendship. "He'll be the perfect scapegoat, Sabrina. No one questions the actions of a man with PTSD." Rage burned, but my body was useless. I was trapped, listening to them discuss my staged suicide, my betrayal. My father, the real hero, would have saved Sabrina's. But here I was, drowning in their lies. Then, black. I woke, paralyzed, a machine beeping. Overhearing Sabrina confirm I was in a medically induced coma, the narrative set: "Troubled veteran... committed treason." They had even altered security footage. Buried alive. What kind of nightmare was this? And who could possibly believe me, trapped in a dead body, with no voice?/1/114552/coverorgin.jpg?v=0f29073a5898e17764300480907e81f0&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Never Forgive, Never Forget My Pain
After eight years in captivity, I was finally rescued. I thought it was the beginning of a new life with my mother. But she didn't even look at me. She ran into the arms of a handsome stranger, her real husband, and I was treated like a dirty secret from her past. They called me a contamination, a reminder of their trauma. My new stepsister set their Doberman on me, and as the dog's teeth sank into my arm, I looked up and saw my mother watching from the window. She met my eyes for a second, then slowly closed the curtains. In that moment, the last bit of hope I had died. The shallow bond of family was completely gone, and I finally gave up. But they made one mistake. The family patriarch, suspicious after a car accident, ordered a secret DNA test. The results came back on the day of my stepsister's birthday party, revealing a truth that would burn their perfect world to the ground./0/84054/coverorgin.jpg?v=5570fa91225fe409902bd6a1225b965d&imageMogr2/format/webp)
This Time, I Fight Back: The CEO's Daughter Returns
The staff party was a dull throb, a familiar exhaustion settling deep in my bones. Then Sabrina Chavez held out the brownie, her eyes wide and innocent, just like before. But I remembered the last time. Taking that brownie led to my throat closing, my lungs burning, and a severe anaphylactic shock. I was dying on the floor, gasping for air, while my boyfriend, Ethan, comforted Sabrina, who claimed it was just cross-contamination. He called me "dramatic" at my hospital bed. That "accident" cost me my promotion, gave me lifelong respiratory damage, and shattered my relationship. It all ended when Ethan, defending Sabrina again, pushed me, and my head hit the counter. I died. Now, I' m back, standing at that exact moment. Sabrina' s smile was sickeningly sweet. The world snapped into focus. This time, everything changes./1/107090/coverorgin.jpg?v=01ef54394b2cc01f5ff9a4566a5bf9de&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Fallen Ugly Girl: Her Epic Comeback
I used to be the "Princess of Cohen Pharmaceuticals," but now I'm just a girl in a soaked coat trying to hide the rolls of fat that came with the stress of my family's bankruptcy. My fiancé, Kody, was the only thing I had left to hold onto. I walked into Kody's office looking for a shred of comfort, but he slid a "Termination of Engagement" form across his mahogany desk instead. He didn't just break up with me; he looked at my size sixteen body with pure disgust and told me I was a liability to his corporate image. Before I could even process the heartbreak, his "secretary" walked in, rubbing her flat stomach and asking about their lunch plans. They had been together for six months-the entire time I was at my father's legal depositions. Kody didn't stop there; he took the keys to the Porsche I bought him, claiming it was a company asset, and drove off with his pregnant mistress, leaving me standing in the gutter. Then my phone rang-my father had collapsed from heart failure, and the hospital refused to operate without a $200,000 deposit because our insurance was frozen. I stood in the hospital lobby, bankrupt, betrayed, and watching my father die through a glass window. Kody had stripped me of everything, and the world was laughing at the "fallen princess." I was desperate, humiliated, and out of options. But I still had one thing left: a black obsidian ring given to me twelve years ago by a boy I saved from drowning. I tracked Christ Collins to a private Hamptons gala, a place where the air smells like old money and dark secrets. He didn't offer me a check; he offered me a sick game. "Swim ten laps in the outdoor pool," he whispered, his eyes icy blue and predatory as a freezing November storm raged outside. "Five million dollars if you finish. Or you can go back and watch your father die." I kicked off my heels and walked toward the frigid water./1/102548/coverorgin.jpg?v=e32feb19df313f2fb299ff8ed1bbfa99&imageMogr2/format/webp)
From ATM To Tech Queen's Empire
For thirteen years, I worked myself to the bone for my boyfriend, Angel. We were just $500 shy of our $100,000 goal for a house and a wedding. Then came the frantic late-night call. His aunt needed $50,000 for life-saving surgery. I sent our entire life savings without a second thought. But when I fell and injured myself rushing to the hospital, he told me he was busy and hung up. I found him there, not in an ER, but in a private wing, coddling his influencer mistress over her sprained ankle. My money was for her. He wasn't a struggling artist; he was a secret millionaire who'd used me as his personal ATM for over a decade. When I confronted him, he leaked my private photos to the world, painting me as an unstable ex to protect his new life. He left me broke, humiliated, and physically injured on the street. He thought he had won. But he forgot who I was. I picked up the phone and called my mother, the CEO of Mayli Tech. "Mom," I said, my voice steady. "I'm ready to take you up on that offer."/1/115526/coverorgin.jpg?v=2dbf7a4e9984d2bc5eb6f59ccbcf61ee&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Cruel Billionaire's Unwanted Perfect Wife
Ellery was trapped in a suffocating marriage with Manhattan's most ruthless billionaire, Holland Sutton. She silently endured his blatant affairs, even measuring his mistress for custom lingerie at her own design studio. She drank foul, black fertility potions forced on her by his cruel mother, who treated her like nothing more than a breeding machine. She only tolerated the endless abuse because her own brother blackmailed her. He threatened to pull the plug on their dying mother's life support if Ellery didn't secure Holland's massive investment for his company. So, she swallowed her pride. She let Holland drag her around like a trophy, let his mother demand she quit her business, and allowed herself to be stripped of all dignity. But then, the devastating news broke. Holland's cousin had just welcomed a baby boy, securing the family inheritance. Ellery's womb was suddenly useless to the Sutton empire. The promised investment for her brother was instantly revoked. Every humiliation, every bitter potion she had choked down, was for absolutely nothing. She had been the perfect, silent puppet in a sick game she could never win. Yet, Holland simply dragged her to the closet and threw a black haute couture gown at her feet. "Put that on. Tonight, you are going to smile and show all of New York that my marriage is perfectly intact." Staring at the heavy dress on the floor, a cold, terrifying clarity replaced her despair. If the rules of his twisted game had changed, then so had hers./1/103197/coverorgin.jpg?v=33bfc2bde1fa5a10d0f48c9b2623365f&imageMogr2/format/webp)
My Dying Wish: A Fiancé's Betrayal
My family and fiancé begged me to donate my last remaining kidney to my twin sister, Kyleigh. They didn't know I was already dying. My fiancé, Axel, gave me an ultimatum. "Donate the kidney, or I'll break our engagement and marry Kyleigh. It's her dying wish." I agreed, only for them to frame me for plagiarism with my own thesis, forcing me to confess on camera. They never knew I was the one who secretly saved our father with my other kidney five years ago-a sacrifice Kyleigh had stolen all the credit for. As they wheeled me into the operating room, they celebrated with Kyleigh, promising her a future built on my death. I was already a ghost to them. But I died on the table. The surgeon, seeing the old surgical scar and the poison riddling my body, walked out to face them. "This wasn't a donation," she announced, her voice cold as steel. "This was murder."/1/109686/coverorgin.jpg?v=3ab62c347f23b3aca448a5ffbe2e40ee&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Gilded Cage, Shattered Soul, Reborn
I was the wife of Callan Drake, the man who conquered death to save me. Our love was a modern myth, and for five years, I was his most prized possession, living in a gilded cage everyone envied. But on our fifth anniversary, I discovered his perfect devotion was a lie. He was cheating on me with his mistress, Ericka. I followed them to a crumbling shack and heard her cruel words slice through the air. "She's a broken toy," she whispered to him. "A barren queen who can't give you an heir." Then I watched as he pulled her into his arms, their silhouettes twisting together in a sickening dance of betrayal. The man who had moved heaven and earth for me was giving himself to another woman. Everything I believed in was a carefully constructed illusion. He had saved my body, but he had just killed my soul. So that night, I gave him one last gift. While he was distracted at our anniversary gala, I left the dissolution papers on our bed and walked away forever. By midnight, I was gone./0/84379/coverorgin.jpg?v=4c27bdc88ec6225df16c449c3445a9c9&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Duchess's Advocate: Reborn For Justice
The acrid smell of antiseptic and fear hit me first, a phantom scent from a life I' d already lost. I was back, standing under the buzzing fluorescent lights of the 24/7 animal emergency hospital, on the same exhaustion-laden shift I' d worked before. My phone buzzed with a text from Molly, my best friend: "Thanks again for covering, Gabs! You' re a lifesaver. Brian and I owe you one!" Brian. My husband. Molly. My best friend. The names twisted in my gut, bringing back the crushing weight of their betrayal, the public shame, the cold click of a bathroom door. I remembered the screaming, the accusations, and Duchess, the champion show dog, lifeless in her kennel. I remembered Brian' s cold eyes, Molly' s fake concern, and the news of their luxury car business, bought with my life insurance money. They didn' t just ruin my life; they murdered it. But they failed. I was back, at the exact moment my universe began to unravel. This time, I wasn' t the broken woman who ended it all. My name is Gabrielle Fuller, and this time, things would be different./0/85028/coverorgin.jpg?v=8d1cd0e0221bc6a1fa76a7efd808282d&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Housekeeper Who Stole My Life
My promotion to VP was everything I' d worked for. A new city, a new chapter. It felt like the culmination of my entire life. But before I could embrace my exciting future, there was one loose end: Mrs. Jenkins, my long-time housekeeper. I called her to break the news of my move, expecting congratulations. Instead, her voice turned cold. "A severance package? After five years of dedicating myself to you, you think a little package is enough?" Her demands escalated, from a lifetime pension to my million-dollar condo. My sanctuary. My independence. "You want my condo?" I laughed, baffled. "That' s an absurd request." Then came her chilling threat, revealing a parasitic network I never knew existed within the affluent downtown towers. "You wouldn' t want a bad reputation, would you? A young, successful woman like you." This wasn' t just about money; it was a brazen attempt at extortion. I had poured my heart and soul into building this life, and now, someone I allowed into my home was trying to take it all. How could I have been so blind? The dream felt tainted, my beautiful city view mocking me. I had let a viper into my home, and now, I had to cut her out. Permanently./1/113904/coverorgin.jpg?v=b636d23b2f685e4f8a7cf246a2fbf3f9&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Dumped For Pennies, Returning With Billions
Cari Butler woke up in a damp, smelly dorm room, realizing she had transmigrated into the body of a disgraced fake daughter who had just been kicked out of a wealthy family. Before she could even process her reality, the real daughter's friends kicked her door open to mock her, flaunting a custom Tiffany necklace that supposedly cost a mere eighty cents. Cari thought they were crazy, until she saw the news: a top Manhattan mansion had just sold for a record-breaking $3,500. The entire world's currency value had shrunk by ten thousand times! This meant the original owner's bank balance of $854,000 gave Cari the purchasing power of eight and a half billion dollars. But a mysterious system froze her funds, forcing her to work demeaning gig jobs to unlock the money bit by bit. While working as a hotel server for twenty cents a day, she caught her ex-boyfriend kissing up to the real daughter, mocking Cari for being a desperate beggar. Even her snobby roommates laughed at her, claiming she couldn't afford a ten-cent iPhone. What truly angered Cari wasn't the humiliation, but receiving a five-cent transfer from her poor biological brother, who was starving himself just to keep her fed. Yet, the system strictly forbade her from giving her unlocked billions directly to her family. Looking at the restrictive system and the arrogant elites who thought they owned the city, Cari's eyes turned icy cold. "If I can't just hand them the cash," Cari sneered, pulling out her phone to outright buy the luxury hotel and fire everyone who wronged her. "Then I will just buy the entire world and place it at their feet."/0/38632/coverorgin.jpg?v=2d1081c95cddeb3873b87013222b8f28&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Secrets Of His Amazing Ex-wife
"Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned!" The first thing Brenda did after divorcing Miguel was to seduce his arch-rival and become his fiancée. Brenda rubbed her new relationship in her ex-husband's face. She made sure to get on his nerves because of how he treated her while they were married. Miguel couldn't catch a break from her constant taunting. While she came at him for everything he got, her secret identities were exposed one after the other. She's the world's most famous pianist? The well-known Designer Elan? And also the mysterious investor? How can one person be so excellent? Unbelievable! Miguel was shocked to the bone to find out that he didn't know all these about her before now. Brenda wasn't a leech like he always thought. She was his dream woman. Could he get her back? Unbeknown to Miguel, another shocker was waiting for him.../1/103522/coverorgin.jpg?v=ad303d43634d6e3f66f4599b2885d788&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Phoenix From The Ashes He Created
My boyfriend Jax and I were San Francisco's golden couple, our futures perfectly intertwined. Then his long-lost half-sister, Cinda, arrived, and he began choosing her endless, manufactured crises over me. The night my restaurant caught fire, he abandoned me in the smoke to comfort a whimpering Cinda. "Can't you handle your own drama for once?" he sneered, as my life's work burned. He left me to nearly drown, accused me of faking a concussion after Cinda pushed me down the stairs, and called my pain a pathetic game for attention. I couldn't understand how the man I had loved since high school could become so monstrous. I thought I had lost him to her. But then I overheard his confession. Cinda was just a pawn, a tool he was using to "teach me a lesson" and ensure I'd come crawling back. In that moment, my heartbreak turned to ice. He hadn't just betrayed me; he had proven our entire love story was a lie./0/87624/coverorgin.jpg?v=23046e280a358c1a765606c09e1cfbf4&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Substitute Bride Awoke As A Legendary Heroine
For financial gain, Isla's father married her to Theodore, a comatose heir. Unconscious, he duped her; awake, he claimed she'd groped him and flirted nonstop. When she discovered she was pregnant, his "lost love" appeared, and he slid divorce papers across the bed. Isla slapped his hush money back and left. They crossed paths again, with Isla lauded as a hacker, race champ, composer, and screenwriter-and the elusive doctor Theodore coveted. He begged, "One more chance." She said, "Prove it with your life." He did, but what he didn't know was that she always knew the "lost love" was only a decoy./1/116500/coverorgin.jpg?v=49405c57cd60110812a8fa46c96618a2&imageMogr2/format/webp)
No Longer Their Pawn, Now His Bride
For five years, I lived as a ghost in my own body, a replacement for the dead twin sister I never knew. My family held my dream of becoming a designer hostage, forcing me into a contract after they'd already sabotaged my future as a concert pianist. On the night the contract was set to end, my younger brother found my secret portfolio. In a blind rage, he tore my life's work to shreds and shoved me to the ground. I landed hard, my left hand slamming against a table with a sickening crack. It was my drawing hand. It was broken. When my parents arrived, they didn't see my pain. My father blamed me for provoking my brother. My mother accused me of trying to kill her. Then, my father's hand struck my face. "You monster!" he roared. "You are nothing but a vicious, manipulative creature!" The boy I had raised for five years screamed at me to get out, his eyes filled with a chilling hatred I finally understood they had fed him. I looked at my bleeding hand, at the wreckage of my dreams, and at the strangers who called themselves my family. I finally stopped trying to earn their love. I turned and walked out the door, leaving them behind forever./1/107091/coverorgin.jpg?v=3c3510c6e4492e2724b47a29ebc46cd8&imageMogr2/format/webp)
After Divorce:My arrogant ex-husband regrets
I sat alone at my long marble dining table, staring at a plate of cold truffle risotto. My husband, Jere, was late again, claiming he was stuck in a "war zone" of a board meeting for a multi-billion dollar merger. A single Instagram notification shattered the silence. It was a photo of a candlelit birthday dinner, featuring a man's hand resting on a white tablecloth. I recognized the slight veins, the jagged scar on the thumb, and the navy-faced Patek Philippe watch I had spent six months tracking down as a wedding gift. Jere wasn't in a boardroom; he was celebrating his ex-girlfriend Irina's birthday while texting me to "don't wait up." The next morning, I followed him to a VIP hospital wing. I watched through a cracked door as my husband cuddled a five-year-old boy and whispered tender promises to Irina. When he came home, he tried to buy my silence with a rare pink diamond bracelet, but I found the receipt: he had bought two identical ones. He had branded his wife and his mistress with matching jewelry, using hidden trackers to keep us both on a leash. When I confronted him, he didn't flinch. He coldly reminded me that he owned my father's massive debts and could send him to prison for insolvency fraud with one phone call. "Stop with the attitude, Deliah," he said. I felt like a ghost haunting my own life, trapped in a gilded cage by the man who paid for my mother's heart surgery while keeping a secret family across town. The humiliation peaked at our rescheduled anniversary dinner when Jere received a text, threw a stack of hundreds at me like I was a stranger, and abandoned me in a crowded restaurant to rush back to her. "Pay the bill," he commanded before walking out. Standing in the wreckage of a shattered crystal vase back at the penthouse, I realized my silence was the only thing keeping his empire standing. I pulled the crumpled divorce papers from my purse and signed my name with a steady hand. I wasn't just walking away; I was calling his sister to help me burn his perfect world to the ground./1/102549/coverorgin.jpg?v=8b1b72aee6989665ad3af6b22e02ccb3&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Surgeon's Betrayal: A Wife's Revenge
After three years in a mental hospital where my husband, Arthur, had me committed, I finally escaped. I went straight to my mother's grave-the mother who had given him her own kidney to save his life. But her headstone was gone. In its place was a memorial for a dog named Princess Fluffykins. My husband had replaced her with his mistress's pet. When I confronted him, he and his new woman, Blaire, destroyed my reputation online, costing me every job offer. Then, during a critical heart surgery, Arthur-my surgeon-walked out, leaving me to die on the table because Blaire called with a fake emergency. He left me to die, just as he had abandoned my mother in her final hours. The man I had given everything to had tried to murder me. But I didn't die. My childhood friend, Joel, burst in and saved me. When Arthur returned, begging for forgiveness, I looked him in the eye and delivered the lie that would become my truth. "I always loved Joel. You were just a distraction."/1/115527/coverorgin.jpg?v=86e86420ab04cef088d70c37d51b7089&imageMogr2/format/webp)
