Modern Books for Women
Bestsellers Ongoing Completed
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His Promise, My Shattered World
My world revolved around Jax Harding, my older brother's captivating rockstar friend. From sixteen, I adored him; at eighteen, I clung to his casual promise: "When you're 22, maybe I'll settle down." That offhand comment became my life's beacon, guiding every choice, meticulously planning my twenty-second birthday as our destiny. But on that pivotal day in a Lower East Side bar, clutching my gift, my dream exploded. I overheard Jax' s cold voice: "Can't believe Savvy's showing up. She' s still hung up on that stupid thing I said." Then the crushing plot: "We' re gonna tell Savvy I' m engaged to Chloe, maybe even hint she' s pregnant. That should scare her off." My gift, my future, slipped from my numb fingers. I fled into the cold New York rain, devastated by betrayal. Later, Jax introduced Chloe as his "fiancée" while his bandmates mocked my "adorable crush"-he did nothing. As an art installation fell, he saved Chloe, abandoning me to severe injury. In the hospital, he came for "damage control," then shockingly shoved me into a fountain, leaving me to bleed, calling me a "jealous psycho." How could the man I loved, who once saved me, become this cruel and publicly humiliate me? Why was my devotion seen as an annoyance to be brutally extinguished with lies and assault? Was I just a problem, my loyalty met with hatred? I would not be his victim. Injured and betrayed, I made an unshakeable vow: I was done. I blocked his number and everyone connected to him, severing ties. This was not an escape; this was my rebirth. Florence awaited, a new life on my terms, unburdened by broken promises./0/81685/coverorgin.jpg?v=498a42bf13d3e2b3067abf103fa641d4&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Alzheimer's Lie
Ellie Miller, a woman in her sixties withered by diabetes and heartache, lay dying in her bed. For forty years, she'd sacrificed everything for her husband, Richard, only to become his "punching bag" in his supposed decline. The last words she heard were Richard's voice, clear and chillingly lucid, telling his mistress Brenda, "Once Ellie' s gone, we can finally get married." His "Alzheimer's" was a monstrous charade, a performance perfected just for her. The ultimate betrayal, after years of emotional and physical abuse under the guise of an illness, sent a final, searing pain through her heart. It was the crushing end to a life stolen by deceit. But then, a jolt. She woke up, breathing, three years younger, her body lighter, in her own bed. Calendar: June 15th, the precise day Brenda first moved in, the day Richard's manipulative "condition" began. The horror of reliving those miserable years surged, but with it came a cold, furious resolve. This time, she wasn't the dying, submissive wife. Armed with every memory of their lies and her suffering, Ellie vowed to reclaim her life. "We'll see about your future, Richard," she whispered. The game was on, and this time, Ellie was playing to win./0/94200/coverorgin.jpg?v=20260130151853&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Seven Years of Lies, My Vengeful Return
For seven years, I worked as a crime scene cleaner, scrubbing away death to save my son' s life. I finally earned the $250,000 for the experimental treatment that would cure his rare genetic disorder. But when I arrived at the hospital, I overheard my boyfriend, Brad, talking. It wasn't about a cure. It was a "social experiment," a seven-year test to prove I wasn't a gold digger. My son was never sick. My best friend was in on it, laughing. Then I heard my son' s voice. "I don't want smelly Mommy to come back. I want Aunt Jaime. She smells like cookies." They humiliated me at his school, calling me a mentally unstable cleaning lady. My son pointed at me and told everyone he didn't know me, while the man I loved dragged me away, accusing me of being a disgrace. My love wasn't love; it was data. My sacrifice wasn't a sacrifice; it was a performance. They had turned my own child against me for their sick game. They thought they were testing a poor, simple cleaner. They didn't know he was Bradford Yates, heir to a billion-dollar dynasty. And they had no idea I was Alyssa Dyer of the Dalton family. I picked up the phone and called my brother. "I'm coming home."/0/63382/coverorgin.jpg?v=20240927150956&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Grave of Secrets
A heavy rain washes away the buried male corpse in the cornfield. The murderer is quickly caught. Only I notice something's off— someone is missing. Ten years later, the people from the past reunite, and rotting oranges are hard to emit a fragrance. The regrets of ten years ago, this time, I will personally deliver judgment./0/80903/coverorgin.jpg?v=20260106194513&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Stolen Retirement: Eleanor's Reckoning
I was looking forward to a quiet retirement after 35 years as a senior records supervisor, my future secured by a diligent pension. My husband, Mark, had even encouraged early retirement, saying our son Kevin and his pregnant wife Chloe needed my help with the new baby. Everything seemed perfectly arranged. But at the county pension office, the clerk’s words shattered my world: “Your pension has been active and payments have been directed to a Ms. Sheila Dixon for the past three years.” Sheila Dixon. Mark’s high school sweetheart. The authorization? Signed by Mark Vance himself, citing “spousal consent and redirection for family support.” Back home, I overheard Mark telling Kevin, “Your mother can be a bit selfish about money sometimes. She doesn’t understand hardship like Sheila does.” My blood ran cold. My money, funding his old flame. When confronted, Mark snarled, “If you make a fuss, you’ll regret it. You’ll find yourself with nothing.” And Kevin, my own son, defended him, blindly siding with "Auntie Sheila." My entire family life, a complete lie. The man I married, the son I raised, betraying me so casually. How could they do this? Was I just disposable to them? But I wasn't nothing. This pension, my future, was all I had left, and I earned it. I would get it back. The very next morning, I walked straight to HR and filed a formal fraud complaint. My fight had just begun./0/85909/coverorgin.jpg?v=1ef8ee078e2dac0817014c7e5510d22e&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The $3 Million Escape
For fifteen years, my wife Sarah' s complaints were the soundtrack of my life. "Eight thousand dollars," she' d whine, always about the paltry dowry my mother gave us. It was a constant, low-level hum, punctuated by her rants about her cousin Jessica' s lavish gifts and exotic vacations. Tonight, after a call with Jessica, it escalated. "Hawaii again," she fumed, eyes burning with a strange, calculating fire. Then, the unthinkable: "What if we get divorced?" A fake divorce, she clarified, a scheme to extort money from my mother. She envisioned millions, and my mother' s precious jewelry. I stared at her, stunned by the audacity, the naked greed. My phone buzzed. A text from my boss: `$3 million bonus. Wire transfer tomorrow.` A strange calm washed over me. The words silenced Sarah' s relentless complaining, the past fifteen years of bitterness. I looked at her, truly looked at her, and a plan of my own began to form. This wasn' t just about the money anymore. It was about quiet, about peace, about freedom. "Okay," I said, my voice steady, surprising even myself. "Let' s do it." Her triumphant grin missed the cold resolve settling deep in my gut. This wasn' t her fake divorce. It was my real one./0/82311/coverorgin.jpg?v=f7a2a580de599c3434df8ad5b1f28eba&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Unforgiven: A Love Betrayed
For seven years, I was Sarah Miller, dating Senator Ethan Bailey, my life a meticulously crafted lie for a shadowy organization. I was nearing my triumph, about to secure his loyalty. Then, a shattered glass, scattered files. Ethan' s furious roar echoed: "A. God. Damn. Assignment?" Our entire relationship, a carefully woven deception, was exposed. My D.C. career turned to ash. Ostracized and radioactive, I thought hope arrived in Mark Thorne, but his 'devotion' was another twisted lie, a calculated tactic fueled by his obsession for Ethan' s new wife, Victoria. Victoria unleashed a horrifying campaign of torment: public humiliations, framed corruption, a deepfake. She called my murdered assistant, Izzy, a "loose end." Worst of all, Mark, cold and brutal, snapped the neck of my only solace, my dog Buster. How could my life become a landscape of such profound betrayal and calculated cruelty? Every supposed kindness, every bond, revealed as a sickening deception. Shattered and broken, I whispered one word to Aegis: "Extraction." My past memories were wiped clean. I awoke as Amy Peterson, free in a quiet Maine town. But the man who destroyed me, Mark Thorne, was unknowingly given an Aegis "Redemption Mandate," sent to earn my love, unaware I' m finally truly protected from his lies./0/23960/coverorgin.jpg?v=cd8a5e08f349bac14923b82270d00473&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Adventures of buju
Buju, is a young student determined to enjoy his last year in secondary school despite his life changing experience with his sister Bola, His girlfriend Nene, and his besties Rachael and Chima. It's a story of love, Lifestyle, friendship and intimacy. It also pin points chima and how he discovered his sexuality and also buju's life in the university, read and enjoy./0/86535/coverorgin.jpg?v=bcca5a204dca356a2ccb7b879540e91c&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Betrayed Bride, Unseen Genius
Olivia Clark, the silent architect of Synapse Tech, always preferred the shadows, content to see her foster brother, Ethan, shine. Tonight was his engagement party-a celebration she helped orchestrate, observing from the periphery in her simple gray dress. But the night took a violent turn when Brittany Hayes, Ethan's fiancée, cornered Olivia, accusing her of trying to upstage the bride-to-be. Brittany' s words, sharp and demeaning, escalated to physical assault, tearing Olivia' s dress and pouring red wine onto her bleeding knee, all while a crowd gathered to watch the spectacle. Even Mark Renshaw, a senior VP who knew Olivia' s true value, disavowed her to curry favor with Brittany, leaving Olivia utterly alone and broken. But when Brittany maliciously destroyed Olivia' s last tangible link to her deceased parents-a unique smart device containing all her confidential AI research-something snapped. "My name is Olivia Clark," she declared, her voice shaking with rage. "And when Ethan finds out what you've done, you and your friends will have nothing left." Just as Brittany prepared to inflict a permanent scar, Ethan walked in, only to find the mangled device at his feet. His shock quickly turned to icy fury as he uncovered the truth, canceling his engagement on the spot and carrying Olivia away. But the ordeal wasn't over. Brittany weaponized the media, painting Olivia as a villain and herself as a victim, pushing Olivia to the brink. "She thinks she's the only one who can play this game," Olivia thought, a chilling resolve forming. "She has no idea what I'm about to do."/0/86848/coverorgin.jpg?v=9538a937dba38d39ca235388a370ff26&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Unmasking A Monster: My Husband's Lies
After we made love, my husband Ethan always did the same thing: he'd pull out papers for me to sign, saying it was just business. I trusted him completely, signing without reading, believing he was handling the boring paperwork so I could focus on my tech company. Then, one night, I heard him on the phone with his childhood friend, Sarah Jenkins. "It' s done, Sarah. I got the last signature." They were draining my accounts, framing me for fraud, and planning to leave me bankrupt and facing prison. My world shattered. This wasn' t just about money; they had meticulously planned this revenge for five years, fueled by a petty college misunderstanding. Every kiss, every "I love you" had been a calculated lie. The man I married was a monster. The betrayal deepened when I discovered I was pregnant. Before I could process the news, Ethan, knowing how my absence for doctor' s appointments would raise questions, took me to the hospital, ostensibly for confirmation. But on the way, he sped up, deliberately causing a car crash that made me lose our baby. Temporarily blinded by the impact and drowning in grief, I was coerced into signing away everything, believing they were insurance forms. It wasn't an accident. I overheard him tell Sarah, "The accident worked perfectly… No more baby to complicate things." He murdered our child. How could the man I loved, the father of my child, be such a cold, calculating killer? How could I have been so blind, so trusting? My love had been his weapon, and his every act, a betrayal beyond imagination. But they had underestimated me. I was Chloe Miller, CEO. And I wasn' t just a broken woman; I was a woman scorned, ready for war./1/116884/coverorgin.jpg?v=35ea6ef469caf6397468b47beff507a9&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Reborn Heiress: Escaping The Cheating Fiancé
In her past life, Christabel was locked in an abandoned medical facility, her fingers crushed and her vision blurred with her own blood. Her stepsister, Hilary, stood over her in a pristine white Chanel suit, smiling as she delivered the final blow. "Derrick's plane went down. No survivors." Hilary whispered the words with fake pity, throwing a stack of newspapers directly at Christabel's face. The bold headlines screamed about the Sanders family's absolute bankruptcy and liquidation. Christabel's parents and brother had already died trying to protect her. Now, Hilary was sealing her inside this rusted, pitch-black room to rot away completely. Christabel couldn't even move her dead limbs to fight back. She could only wait for her heartbeat to stop, drowned in absolute, crushing helplessness. She hated herself for being so blind, for letting Hilary and her fiancé Jaylon manipulate her, destroy her family, and steal everything she ever loved. In her final agonizing second, a vicious curse echoed in her mind. She swore that if she had another chance, she would drag them all to hell. Then, a violent sensation of falling ripped through her, and her eyes snapped open. Blinding light from a crystal chandelier stabbed her eyes, and an unnatural, burning heat rushed through her veins. She had been reborn. She was back at eighteen, in the exact hotel room where Hilary and Jaylon had plotted to drug her and ruin her reputation forever. This time, the show was hers to direct./1/104682/coverorgin.jpg?v=2438ba9222836b1aaef7057ccb930b0f&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Mad Billionaire's Genius Undercover Wife
I arrived at my uncle’s mansion looking like human trash, clutching a one-way bus ticket and a duffel bag stuffed with old newspaper. My aunt looked at me with pure disgust, as if she could smell the poverty on my skin, but they needed me for one thing: to be a sacrificial lamb. They told me I was getting married to Julian Sterling, a man the elite circles called a violent monster locked in a cage. My uncle forced me to sign away my soul to save their failing fortune, while my cousin Kayla laughed and threw a torn dress at my feet, calling me a "rat from the Rust Belt." At the Sterling estate, the nightmare only deepened. Julian’s stepmother treated me like a horse she was forced to buy, ordering the staff to "burn off" my hair before locking me in the West Wing. I was thrown into a padded cell with a man who lunged at me, his heavy chains rattling against the floor as he roared with an animalistic rage that had already killed two nurses. They thought I was a pathetic, uneducated girl who "didn't read so good." They didn't know I had extorted two million dollars from my uncle before walking out the door, or that I was secretly recording every slap and insult they threw at me for future leverage. I huddled in the corner of that dark cell, letting them watch me tremble on the security feeds. I let Julian’s sister strike me with a riding crop and splash water in my face, playing the role of the clumsy, sobbing idiot to perfection. But the moment the cameras looped, the scared girl vanished. I pinned the "monster" to the floor, cut the neural tracking chip out of his neck with a hidden scalpel, and whispered into his ear as his blue eyes finally cleared. They thought they were sending a lamb to the slaughter. They had no idea they were sending a wolf to hunt a beast./0/81373/coverorgin.jpg?v=5307733f23e82f45db3cc6fd10792b00&imageMogr2/format/webp)
No Longer The Foolish Wife
The rejection letter for Danny' s after-school program landed like a physical blow. I just wanted a safe, affordable spot for my sweet five-year-old. But the reason shocked me: the spot was taken by "another child" of Sergeant First Class Tom Barnes – my husband. Tom admitted it was for Kyle, son of "Gold Star widow" Crystal, claiming he needed to help them for his promotion, casually dismissing Danny's needs. He then offered to take Danny to his duty station, "unofficially," to keep him out of Crystal's hair. Foolishly, I agreed, putting my boy on a Greyhound bus, his little backpack and beloved rocket ship t-shirt packed. Three days later, the call came: Danny was abducted. Tom arrived not with comfort, but screaming blame: "If you hadn't fussed... if you were stronger, this wouldn't have happened." He told me to "move on," then vanished back to Crystal and Kyle, leaving me in a silent, empty house, clutching a single, tattered piece of Danny' s blue t-shirt. The crushing guilt and unbearable emptiness drove me to swallow pills, praying for oblivion. How could the man I loved, the father of my son, so easily destroy our lives and then blame me? Why did I believe his lies, sacrificing my child for his career and his affair? The thought that I might have prevented it, if only I' d known the truth, was a tormenting torture. Then, one morning, I awoke in my own bed, the calendar reading May 15th-Danny' s application day. "Mommy? Are you awake?" That small voice, the sight of Danny, alive and whole, brought tears and a rush of crystal-clear memories. This time, I wouldn't be a victim. My fingers flew to the phone, straight to the Department of Defense Inspector General./0/83094/coverorgin.jpg?v=54cb101becaf31b2996407d511facf3b&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Unwanted Wife's Ultimate Revenge
Eighteen years. That's how long I'd waited, meticulously planning for this very day, this graduation party for "Alex Miller." Everyone believed he was my charming brother-in-law, but he was my biological son, Ethan. My deepest devotion, all my secret resources, had gone to him. Suddenly, a storm erupted. Patricia's son, the one she'd swapped into my arms eighteen years ago, stomped to the center, phone broadcasting live. He pointed at me, screaming, "This woman, Sarah Jenkins, my mother, is a monster! She treats me like dirt while lavishing attention on him! She's obsessed with her brother-in-law!" He displayed incriminating photos and edited videos, portraying me as unnatural and sick. The air crackled with venom. The crowd gasped, their murmurs growing into open condemnation. "Disgusting!" "Sicko!" My husband, Mark, his face a mask of shame and fury, believed the lies, hissing, "We're done! I want a divorce!" He looked at me with utter contempt. My son, the true Ethan, rushed to my side, desperately trying to defend me, but his words were drowned in the tide of accusations. They believed they had cornered me, stripped me of everything, dragging my name through the mud for perceived perversions. They thought I was broken, a delusional woman caught in her twisted obsession. The injustice was palpable, the public outcry deafening. But they had no idea. How could a woman endure such public humiliation, such vile accusations, yet remain perfectly, chillingly calm? Then, the estate lawyer for the $500,000 trust arrived, ready to release the funds to "Ethan Miller." Patricia and her son beamed, confident in their victory. My moment had come. I met the lawyer's gaze, my voice steady amidst the chaos. "No," I said, the single word silencing the crowd. "I will not consent for him to receive that money. Because he is not my biological son." The true show was about to begin./0/48991/coverorgin.jpg?v=89ccd3d7eab30578a6ce9f650b0da4dd&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Reawaken Expired Love
Alicia was a miserable wife for three years. All she got from her so-called husband was indifference. A chance union sparked hope within her that Erick had finally changed his mind. Sadly, his true intentions were to reconcile with his lost love. Both love and patience had an expiry date. Alicia threw divorce papers in his face. Surprisingly, instead of signing them immediately, Erick pressed her against a wall. "You want to divorce me? Not gonna happen!" Regardless of his unwillingness, Alicia decided to turn her life around. She began climbing up the ladder of success and soon attracted many admirers. When they bumped into each other one day, Alicia was in the company of some kids. Something drove him to act out of character. "Let me be their father," he offered. Alicia rolled her eyes at him. "No need, Mr. Ellis."/0/86849/coverorgin.jpg?v=0f9114d70873e5687bd99e694b39d8e9&imageMogr2/format/webp)
His Betrayal, Her Unbreakable Will
The pain hit me in the middle of a billion-dollar merger presentation. It was a sharp, twisting cramp, so intense it stole my breath. I excused myself, trembling, and called my husband, Ethan, who was supposed to be my rock. Instead, I heard the sounds of children laughing and music in the background. My desperate plea that "something's wrong... I think I'm bleeding" was met with dismissal. Ethan, playing dad to Olivia's son Liam, brushed me off, accusing me of being "dramatic" and "pathetic" for trying to ruin Liam's "Star Camper" award. He hung up, leaving me to slide down the hallway wall as a warm gush of blood soaked through my dress. Hours later, I woke up in a hospital bed. Our baby was gone. The doctor's kind, sad face confirmed the emptiness I already felt. I lay there, a hollowed-out shell, the pain too deep for tears. When the nurse presented the cremation authorization, I didn't hesitate. I signed my name, Chloe Davis, and then asked her to send the ashes to my husband, Ethan Miller, at his office. "And," I added, looking her straight in the eye, "can you include a gift card? Just write one thing on it: 'For your next family.'" He hadn't come to the hospital. He hadn't even called. Two days later, he came home, cheerful and oblivious, talking about how Olivia "really needed him" and how he' d brought me soup. He still didn't get it. He was standing in the middle of a graveyard, complaining about the price of flowers. The man I had loved was gone, replaced by a stranger. His casual disregard, constant betrayal, and the loss of our child ignited a cold, unwavering resolve within me. I took down the nursery, packing away every tiny reminder of a future that would never be. Then, I called my lawyer. I was filing for divorce, and this time, I wasn't just leaving him; I was taking everything back-my money, my career, my life-and he wouldn't even see it coming./0/99364/coverorgin.jpg?v=5c8ee0c1dd3fadd99ac53741bdc00829&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Den's Secret: A Bride's Fury
Seven days before my wedding, an anonymous email led me to a members-only site called "The Den." The video was raw and explicit. The man in the wolf mask, with his familiar jawline and confident movements, was my fiancé, Damon. But the true gut punch was recognizing the woman with him: my best friend and maid of honor, Katina. Their betrayal escalated into a nightmare-a staged car accident that cost me our unborn child. I soon discovered Damon never loved me; he'd proposed only for my family's connections to fund his startup. My entire world wasn't just a lie; it was a cold, calculated scheme that had left me broken and childless. They thought they had taken everything from me. They were wrong. They had just given me a reason to burn their world to the ground./1/103275/coverorgin.jpg?v=d56e17b9cf92a40193815f4153896426&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Tune In for My “Apology”
My ex-boyfriend, Gabriel, the man who once promised me forever, looked at me as if I were a stain on his expensive suit. He was here to finish the job of destroying my life. To save my brother from jail, he demanded an impossible six-figure settlement and a humiliating, live-streamed public apology. Three years ago, his now-fiancée, my rival Aspen Watkins, framed me for cyberbullying. Gabriel believed her lies, publicly denounced me, and shattered my world. The scandal led to my expulsion, my parents' fatal car crash, and the loss of our family fortune. He was ready to humiliate me all over again for a crime I never committed, his eyes cold and unyielding. The punishment wasn't just for my brother; it was for me. But as I prepared for my public execution, a mysterious billionaire made me an offer. He knew the truth and gave me the means to fight back. Aspen wanted a spectacle. I decided to give her one./0/54154/coverorgin.jpg?v=9882b89d4c68ce8d37de043a21917fb7&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Reborn And Marry My Ex-husband's Enemy
If given the chance to live again, what would you change the most? As for Emma, she has decided not to marry Mark, a betrayer. In her previous life, she was deceived and harmed by him, leading to the tragic demise of her entire family. Emma, devastated and tormented by Mark, suffered to the point of death. When she woke up, she found herself back five years in the past. At that time, Emma had not married Mark; instead, she had formed a connection with David, Mark's rival. Emma decides to rely on David for revenge against Mark, but little does she know that things will take unexpected turns. What surprises await her? Read on to find out!/1/115008/coverorgin.jpg?v=096f067bcc9e871ae684c8cfdaf7acef&imageMogr2/format/webp)
