Modern Books for Women
Bestsellers Ongoing Completed
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The Scholarship Thief
My daughter Emily's university scholarship was our only hope, our ticket out of our struggling life. Then the email arrived: she didn't get it. Instead, the scholarship, her dream, was awarded to my ex-husband Rick Thompson' s mediocre stepson, Kyle. I knew instantly this was Rick's manipulation, a blatant act of corruption for his own political gain and social status. Desperate, I confronted him at his public campaign BBQ, bringing my Medal of Honor father's cherished military case as a symbol of integrity. But Rick, his new wife Brenda, and his mother Eleanor didn't listen to reason. They publicly shamed me, mocking my struggles and dismissing my father's heroic legacy as a "sob story." Brenda even "accidentally" knocked his sacred Medal of Honor case to the ground, scattering whispers and snickers through the crowd. Humiliation burned through me, hot and suffocating, as I cradled the fallen medal amidst their triumphant smirks. How could he not only steal Emily's future but also twist my war hero father's honor into a weapon against me? We left crushed, defeated, our dreams seemingly dead. But in my deepest despair, a forgotten name surfaced, a beacon of hope: General James Carter, my four-star general father' s old friend. I knew what I had to do. He was our desperate, final gamble against a man who believed he was untouchable./1/100611/coverorgin.jpg?v=57a478b1274d5f05b82224969eaddcf1&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Surgeon's Cold, Calculated Resolve
My husband, Clark, gave me a choice: save the mother of the woman who killed my own, or he would destroy my sister's life. He held a fabricated video over my sister Anissa's head, a cruel lie that would ruin her future. I performed the surgery, saving the life of my enemy's mother, but the blackmail drove Anissa to take her own life. When I confronted him, he didn't just break my heart. He had his Dobermans maul my hands, the ten-million-dollar hands that had saved countless lives, shattering the bones and ending my career forever. He then threw me out, leaving me for dead on a deserted road after I was brutally attacked. I had lost my mother, my sister, and my life's work, all at the hands of the man who swore to love and protect me, the man I once saved on the operating table. But as I lay in a hospital bed for the last time, a cold, calculated resolve settled deep in my bones. I made a single phone call to a man from my past. "Apollo," I whispered, my voice raw but steady. "I'm ready. I want him destroyed. Every last piece of him."/0/83091/coverorgin.jpg?v=e5c9427943d44b7276ebbd85919b0b4c&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Stolen Motherhood, Shattered Lives
I woke up in my own bed, familiar yet foreign. Everything that had shattered my first life flooded back. Years of Mark, my husband, shrinking me, and Tiffany, his high-school flame, twisting the knife. I remembered my miscarriage, the doctors' pronouncement: "You can't have more children." Then, our adopted son, Leo. My beautiful boy. But the crushing truth: he wasn't just "ours." He was theirs. They orchestrated it all, letting me pour my broken heart into raising their child, smirking behind my back as their free nanny, their convenient fool. That ultimate, horrifying betrayal had quite literally killed me. It wasn't just an affair; it was the audacious theft of my motherhood, the calculated destruction of my identity. How could they do it, believing I' d never uncover their lie? The injustice burned, an icy inferno. But now, I was back. It was the evening before Mark would tell me Tiffany was moving in, a moment that once broke me. This time, no tears, no desperate pleas. Only cold, silent calculation. And they were completely unprepared for the storm I was about to unleash./0/39615/coverorgin.jpg?v=d120edfc595220e29f599bab7a546f88&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Labyrinth Of Hermes
One of the biggest confusions in what we call "love", is the way in which we interpret the other person. The human being is characterized by completing any lack of understanding or information, resorting to his useful imagination. A girl's greeting is a simple fact, empty, incomplete of features and details that offer no more than the mere image of the greeting. Even so, we perceive in it an irrefutable timbre of voice; an intensity and a weakness in its sound. We perceive certain characteristics of the personality of that person, although, nevertheless, these sources will never be enough for us; It will not be enough just to know the episode of the greeting, the courtesy, their education./0/84389/coverorgin.jpg?v=786dedfd106d90d1c9c9469ce8e2611e&imageMogr2/format/webp)
A Debt of Life, Repaid in Blood
The ER waiting room hummed with a familiar, sickly glow. But tonight, I wasn't the paramedic on call. I was just Andrew, a guy in a hoodie, staring at my phone. My fiancée, Jennifer, lay supposedly critical after a hit-and-run. They said she needed emergency brain surgery. The nurse demanded payment upfront. With a cold, practiced mask, I showed them my banking app. "$17.42." That's all I had left, I claimed. It was after a "sophisticated online scam" wiped me out. Jennifer' s "parents" - two actors she' d hired - wailed. They begged me to save her. They even proposed a monstrous deal. Their son' s heart for my sick mother' s life. The world watched as a good Samaritan nurse started a GoFundMe. She was painting me as a heartless monster who' d let his fiancée die. The video went viral. Donations poured in, "saving" Jennifer. Meanwhile, my career and reputation crumbled. Every phone call from my chief was a stab. Every hateful comment online was a stab. But I didn't care. They called me a sociopath, a villain. How could I let them believe such a lie? How could I be so callous, so indifferent to the woman I was supposed to marry? My mother's fragile heart. My ruined career. It all felt like a twisted nightmare. But this wasn't my first time living this nightmare. In another life, I was the fool who fell for it all. I watched my mother die because of Jennifer' s cruel "loyalty test." This time, I knew the game. This time, I was ready to play my own hand./1/107425/coverorgin.jpg?v=2915d084f8a8921cd24ab1f057e2328d&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Revenge Was Her Final Vow
Synopsis: Diana, a twenty-nine year old brilliant young lady and a successful fashion designer. She was grateful she had been able to achieve everything she had without any support. But there was a void inside of her. She wanted to get married. She couldn't bear the fact of entering into the big chapter thirty without a life partner. She met David at a business conference meeting. He asked for her number. She hesitated thinking he wasn't going to stay like the others. She decided to give him a chance and went on a first date with him only to realise that he was serious and wanted to marry her. What Diana didn't know was that David was pretending all along. He was never interested in her as a person. During a public awards ceremony, David brings Eleanor, a celebrity who is his new business partner, onto the stage. He dedicates his award to her, claiming she was the "sole inspiration" for his success. Later that night, he tells Diana that he has already signed the divorce papers. His cold dismissal shatters her, but in the aftermath, a clear-headed determination sets in./1/112941/coverorgin.jpg?v=17e08b95be9e3ce8d142323bd5bd8373&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Heiress Who Erased Her Billionaire Ex
For three years, I lived in the shadow of Axel Carroll, playing the part of the devoted girlfriend while serving as his high-end errand runner. I thought we were building a life together, but tonight, the truth hit me with the force of a wrecking ball. I showed up at his private club, soaking wet and clutching the suit he’d demanded I deliver, only to find him lounging with the woman he truly wanted. As he draped his arms around the new heiress, he looked at me not with love, but with the cold, bored irritation one reserves for a fly buzzing around the dinner table. He didn't even apologize. Instead, he signaled for his friend to call security and told me he was "done" with his little charity project. He offered me a payoff, expecting me to fall to my knees in tears, begging for a scrap of the affection I’d spent years trying to earn. Everyone in that room—his sycophantic friends and his new lover—waited for the show, waiting for the pauper to break down in front of the prince. I stood there, feeling the iron cage I’d built around my own heart finally click open. I didn't feel the sting of humiliation or the heat of anger; I just felt incredibly, painfully stupid for ever believing a man who only understood transactions could ever understand love. I didn't give them the tragedy they wanted. I walked out, erased every trace of him from my life, and realized that while he thought he was holding all the cards, I had been holding the lens. I had spent three years capturing the rot behind his golden life, and it was finally time to show the world the truth./0/94123/coverorgin.jpg?v=7154867ff0468c66f5e4a9be33ef73ed&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Bound to Him: A Spirit's Dark Return
The last time I heard my boyfriend Arthur' s voice, he was telling me to stop being so dramatic. I had been kidnapped by a man he' d bankrupted, and I was begging for my life. "This is a new low, even for you," he said, his voice cold with annoyance. "I don' t have time for these games." He hung up on me to deal with a work crisis for his partner, Genesis. My kidnapper, realizing no ransom would ever be paid, strapped a bomb to my chest and left me to die. The explosion killed me, but it didn't set me free. Instead, my spirit became tethered to Arthur, a cruel, invisible chain forcing me to follow him. I had to watch as he investigated the murder of a "Jane Doe," never once suspecting the unrecognizable victim was me. He saw my final text message-the one telling him I was pregnant-and called it a sick, manipulative lie before blocking my number and erasing me from his life. I was a ghost, bound to the man whose indifference was my death sentence, forced to watch him grieve for a stranger while cursing my name. I thought this was my eternal punishment. But a year later, I overheard his new fiancée, Genesis, bragging to her friends. And I finally learned the truth about who really sent my killer to my door./1/100612/coverorgin.jpg?v=faa38cb9d251c7354248fd45c4c2cd88&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Shattered Love, A Monster's Reign
My world shattered the moment my husband, Christian, chose the woman who killed our stillborn child over me. He didn't just abandon me in my grief. He threatened to release our intimate videos unless I dropped all charges against her. His cruelty escalated into a living nightmare. He pushed me down the stairs. He forced me to drink a cocktail he knew could kill me. Then, completely blinded by his new lover' s lies, he had me kidnapped and taken to a remote estate. Tied up and gagged, I watched as he took a whip to my back, believing I was just some nameless maid who had wronged his precious new woman. He didn't even recognize his own wife. In that moment, the man I loved was replaced by a monster. As I lay broken and bleeding, I made a vow. I would survive this. I would escape. And I would make him see the truth before I destroyed him completely./0/81794/coverorgin.jpg?v=103b6a13f9417e2d5e94a0ea052ddf36&imageMogr2/format/webp)
No Mercy, No Return
The music throbbed at my sister Claire' s engagement party. Ethan Prescott, the man I was supposed to marry, stood beside her, glowing. I watched from the sidelines, a polite smile glued to my face, my family' s legendary Aegis Locket cool against my skin. Then Claire screamed. Stumbling into the ballroom, her dress torn, a bruise blooming on her cheek, she pointed directly at me, her voice cracking. "She did this! Rory attacked me! She said I stole Ethan, that I' d pay!" My fiancé, my brother Sam, and even my own mother, instantly believed her lies. They called me a monster. Without a second thought, Ethan ripped the Aegis Locket from my neck, banishing me to "The Hollows," a desolate commune in Maine, for "rehabilitation." Five years I endured there: systematic torture, starvation, brutal beatings, and the ultimate degradation – a searing brand announcing "Property of The Hollows." My once-sharp mind shattered, my identity erased. I became a feral, cowering creature, unable to comprehend the monstrous injustice. How could my family, my beloved Ethan, mistake my horrific abuse for madness, my broken pleas for manipulative acts? Why did they choose to believe the twisted narrative of my venomous sister? When Ethan and Sam finally came to retrieve me, repulsed by the shattered woman before them, my raw, branded body was exposed during a cruel "penance" ritual. With nothing left but shame and despair, I lunged towards the cliff's edge, escaping their judgment, escaping everything, by throwing myself into the raging abyss below./1/101910/coverorgin.jpg?v=3e47dc90742f5aa52963d4ea1ec74fc8&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Disgraced Teacher's Ruthless Return
Ten years ago, Cameron Vinson destroyed my Wall Street career to build his empire, leaving me a disgraced schoolteacher. Now, he was back, paying for my father' s life-saving surgery to play the benevolent hero. But his fiancée, jealous of his attention, decided to reveal the truth to my father on his deathbed, killing him instantly with the shock. "Emilia, look what you've done! You're hysterical!" Cameron shouted, shoving me away from my father's cooling body while comforting the woman who had just murdered him. Hailee had shown my father a video proving we were both framed, just to watch the light leave his eyes. Yet, Cameron stood there protecting her, gaslighting me into believing I was the crazy one. They thought I was still the helpless victim they could manipulate. They thought my father' s death was just another loose end tied up. But as the heart monitor flatlined, my phone buzzed with a message from a ghost of our shared past. "I have enough evidence to bury Cameron Vinson. Do you need help?" I looked at the monsters preening over my father's corpse. I wiped my tears and typed back a single word: "Yes." The time for grief was over. The time for a hostile takeover had begun./0/86661/coverorgin.jpg?v=759b1f76bba4e155ec9d7f28caafe38e&imageMogr2/format/webp)
My Wife, My Betrayer
My wife, Sarah, and I defined DINK: Dual Income, No Kids. It was her dream, and I made it mine, even getting a vasectomy to seal our child-free future. Then, ten years into our perfect marriage, I found the birth certificates in her safe: twins, Luke and Ben O'Connell. Ten years old. When confronted, Sarah admitted they were "Liam's boys," her old college friend. She justified it as "filial piety" for Liam's "dying mother," a duty. What about her duty to me? My blood ran cold when her mother called, casually revealing the whole family knew. They expected me to "adjust," to love the boys. Suddenly, I was faced with a choice: "It's me, or it's them. You cut them out of your life, completely, or we are done." She didn't hesitate. "I can't do that to them, Ethan. They're my children." My heart shattered. I took off my wedding ring and laid it on the birth certificates. The marriage was over. I was a fool, a twenty-year joke, the loyal husband sacrificing for a woman building another family behind my back. The clinic visit replayed in my mind: Sarah holding my hand, her "concern" for me, comforting me years later with a fake infertility diagnosis. All lies. I discovered the truth through a monthly payment to a property management company, leading to photos of Sarah, Liam, and the twins living a perfect family life-a life I was unknowingly funding. At her father's 70th birthday party, Sarah introduced me to the boys. "Mommy says you couldn't give her babies, so she had to get them from our daddy," one smirked, loud enough for everyone to hear. Later, she publicly transferred fifty-one percent of my company's shares to Liam, for "the boys." I wasn't just replaced; I was erased. The next day, she brought them to our house, my house. The boy broke his own phone, then shrieked, "He pushed me!" Liam, the picture of feigned sorrow, scolded me. Then, Sarah, with a rage I'd never seen, slapped me hard across the face. "How dare you touch my son?" In that moment, I realized I was just an obstacle. I didn't say a word. I just packed a bag, signed the divorce papers, and left. On my way out, I made sure the hidden security camera had captured everything, the proof I needed to ensure she could never deny what she had done./1/115537/coverorgin.jpg?v=a142dd105530fd8cf2485cf3efd5e35d&imageMogr2/format/webp)
His Vengeful Game: The Bankrupt Heiress
Once a pampered princess, Alaina now clutched a deactivated American Express card, staring out at Central Park. Her family’s fortune was gone, her life, over. Her family's Hamptons estate, a four-generation legacy, was seized by Dyer Capital. The name hit her: Hardin Dyer, the poor boy she’d once scorned, had returned. Hardin marched in, serving a divorce agreement. He'd orchestrated her family's downfall for revenge, giving her 24 hours to vacate his property. Penniless, her father faced prison, needing $50 million. Her mother forced her to beg Hardin, who sneered, offering the money for her body. Alaina ripped up the contract. Hours later, her father had a heart attack. Desperate, she became "Lexi," a club girl enduring humiliation. In the Viper Room, Hardin's lackeys demanded she lick whiskey off his shoe for $10,000. Hardin watched. Outside, her brother Ashton's hand was threatened for a $3 million debt. Spirit shattered, Alaina returned, knelt on broken glass, offering to sign. But Hardin declared her family "dead," offering $10 million for her body, commanding her to use her mouth. In a furious act of defiance, Alaina threw whiskey in his face, snatched the check, and fled. Yet, when he finally took her, a searing, foreign pain and blood on the sheets revealed a shocking truth: he had never touched her three years ago. Why had he let her believe such a monstrous lie?/0/87959/coverorgin.jpg?v=8311e2d4f8b1344828fbc9bed8db68f9&imageMogr2/format/webp)
His Love, Her Prison, Their Son
For five years, my husband, Courtland Johnson, had me locked in a rehabilitation center, telling the world I was a murderer who had killed my own stepsister. On the day of my release, he was waiting. The first thing he did was swerve his car directly at me, trying to run me down before I even left the curb. My punishment, it turned out, was only just beginning. Back at the mansion I once called home, he locked me in a dog kennel. He forced me to kowtow to my "dead" sister's portrait until my head bled onto the marble floor. He made me drink a potion to ensure my "tainted bloodline" would end with me. He even tried to give me to a lecherous business partner for the night, a "lesson" for my defiance. But the cruelest truth was yet to come. My stepsister, Kinsley, was alive. My five years of hell were all part of her sick game. And when my little brother Aspen, my only reason for living, witnessed my humiliation, she had him thrown down a flight of stone steps. My husband watched him die and did nothing. Dying from my injuries and a broken heart, I threw myself from a hospital window, my last thought a vow of revenge. I opened my eyes again. I was back on the day of my release. The warden's voice was flat. "Your husband has arranged it. He's waiting." This time, I would be the one waiting. To drag him, and everyone who wronged me, straight to hell./1/110995/coverorgin.jpg?v=ed50ed326ca423cbe15618830b63c37b&imageMogr2/format/webp)
From The Background Wife To His Unreachable Memory
For ten quiet years, Verena carried feelings for Brayden that she never revealed, while everyone knew his heart belonged to another woman. Three years ago, a financial crisis forced her into an arranged marriage with him to save her family's business. During those years, his cold distance slowly wore down her devotion until nothing remained. When news came that the woman he truly loved had returned, Verena chose to end the marriage. She walked away and cut him out of her life. Only then did regret consume him. "Verena, come back to me." Unfortunately, it was too late./1/114564/coverorgin.jpg?v=6e71eed09c2b17b033e3c28312daf12e&imageMogr2/format/webp)
He Thought He Wrote My End
On the first anniversary of our reconciliation, I thought my tech mogul husband and I had finally turned a corner. Then I discovered our entire marriage was a spectator sport. It was a cruel, year-long revenge game orchestrated by him and his lover, and I was the punchline. For their amusement, I was poisoned with food contaminated with dog feces, publicly humiliated with a twenty-million-dollar auction scam, and beaten until my ribs broke by his family's private security. I endured it all, playing the part of the clueless, loving wife while they laughed about it in a group chat called "The Jillian Andrews Comedy Hour." But their grand finale was a step too far. I overheard him calmly planning to leave me to die in a remote cabin during a blizzard, a "tragic accident" that would finally set him free to be with his mistress. He thought he was writing the final chapter of my life. He didn't know I was about to use his murder plot as my own perfect escape. I faked my death, vanished into thin air, and left him to explain to the world how his beloved wife disappeared off the face of the earth./1/112942/coverorgin.jpg?v=02960f1a19afd5f19686e17d446de110&imageMogr2/format/webp)
She Left His Ruin Behind
My father' s life depended on a $50,000 payment my billionaire husband could easily afford. But every dollar I spent was controlled by his chief of staff, Keri-a woman who hated me and managed my life through a humiliating expense app. When my father was diagnosed with a rare leukemia, the doctors gave him one chance: an experimental treatment. The cost was exactly $50,000. Keri rejected the request, citing "non-essential family health." My husband, Axel, told me not to be "so dramatic." While I begged them to reconsider, my father died. Hours after the hospital called, Keri posted a photo of her and Axel at a gala, celebrating a business deal. Her caption read: "#PowerCouple." I left a comment. "Inspiring how you celebrate wins on the day my father died because you withheld the $50,000 he needed. Your efficiency is unparalleled. Perhaps you'll find it equally efficient to process these divorce papers."/1/119431/coverorgin.jpg?v=28cddff193e9875797bab879649755e8&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Superstar's Runaway Wife With Triplets
After two years of sterile clinics, Chloe was finally pregnant with triplets. She held the ultrasound photo, waiting to surprise her A-list actor husband, Julian. But while unpacking his suitcase, she found a white shirt smeared with cheap perfume and cherry-red lipstick, along with a hidden burner phone ringing with his mistress's sleepy voice. Disgusted, Chloe demanded a divorce and lied that she had aborted the pregnancy to protect her babies. Julian's reaction was monstrous. "There is no divorce in this family. There is only death." He locked her in the bedroom and violently assaulted her. To protect his public image, he trapped her in his family's isolated estate, telling everyone she suffered an ectopic pregnancy. His mother humiliated her for failing to provide an heir, while Julian threatened to have a child with his mistress and force Chloe to raise it as daily torture. Trapped in this gilded cage, Chloe realized the horrifying truth. Julian's wealth and power meant a simple divorce was impossible. If she tried to leave legally, he would easily crush her and take her unborn children away forever. Watching a news report of a fatal car crash exploding over a coastal cliff, a desperate, audacious plan formed in her mind. If she couldn't escape him in life, she would escape him in death./1/116511/coverorgin.jpg?v=a93ece7a62a3942010031040ae9500d5&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Zero Alimony: The CEO's Runaway Wife
I was hemorrhaging severely on the operating table, risking my life to deliver the billionaire Carlisle heir. Through the unsealed door, I heard my husband Axel's cold, mechanical voice giving a ruthless order to the panicked doctors. "Prioritize the heir. Above all else." The ice spread through my veins as he reduced my entire existence to a mere vessel. After I barely survived the emergency delivery, his mother marched into my room, telling me I should be on my knees thanking God they kept me alive long enough to fulfill my only purpose. His sister barged in just to scream at me, calling me a manipulative gold-digger. And Axel? He didn't ask about my pain. He simply stared at me like a CEO evaluating a damaged asset, eventually kidnapping me from the hospital and threatening to use his Wall Street power to ensure I would never see my newborn son again. I had secretly loved this man for years, swallowing my pride and enduring his toxic family's abuse, only to realize that in my most vulnerable moment, my life meant absolutely nothing to him. Why did I ever think I could melt his icy heart? My heart simply stopped breaking and turned to solid stone. I bypassed his billions, called a top-tier litigator, and handed Axel a zero-alimony divorce agreement, waiving every single cent of his fortune just to make a clean break./1/100613/coverorgin.jpg?v=e2200ec23d196143486a783d119a84c9&imageMogr2/format/webp)
