Modern Books for Women
Bestsellers Ongoing Completed
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The Day I Burned It All Down
My husband, Senator Harrison Vance III, was destined for the White House, and I, his adoring wife, was meant for the perfect political life. That illusion shattered in a sterile D.C. clinic when I saw him holding another woman' s swollen belly, listening as he orchestrated a forced miscarriage to protect his legacy. He drugged me himself, making sure I couldn't have children, and later, the mistress gloated, detailing their affair in my own home, confident I was being gracefully removed for his secret wedding. My own husband, a man I loved, systematically destroyed my body, my future, and my trust for an inheritance only his mistress's child could claim. So, I burnt every trace of my past, quietly packed a sealed box for his upcoming "business trip," and disappeared without a trace./0/80883/coverorgin.jpg?v=168e492e59cbfb9de1c7bf1c4c33bc18&imageMogr2/format/webp)
A Father's Unseen Battle
My 5-year-old son, Leo, watched helplessly as I slowly withered away from endless bone marrow donations. My wife, Victoria, dismissed my agonizing decline, blinded by her childhood flame Julian Vance's manufactured illness and charisma. Leo frantically pleaded for help, but Victoria, consumed by Julian, ignored his desperate cries, even after he reported me coughing up blood. Instead, she pushed him violently, leaving him injured and alone amidst Julian's cruel laughter. After my death, Leo tried to fulfill my last wish, only for Julian to mockingly destroy my favorite donuts and viciously slash my son’s lip, forcing him to call him "Father." My spirit, helpless, watched as Leo collapsed, unconscious and bleeding, onto my lifeless body, utterly abandoned. How could a mother be so utterly deaf to her child's pleas, so complicit in such monstrous cruelty? The injustice was a burning void, a father's agony witnessing his son's betrayal. Found near death, Leo was rushed to the hospital, where Julian later crept in to silence him with a pillow. But a spectral surge of pure, desperate paternal rage—my rage—slammed Julian away, alerting security and shattering the monstrous facade. The truth about his fake illness and vengeful plot would finally unravel, setting the stage for a dramatic reckoning and Leo’s long fight for justice and redemption./1/102297/coverorgin.jpg?v=44d29525e0fea1f93432ef922c92f05e&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Woman He Almost Killed Lives
I spent three years as the perfect girlfriend to Silicon Valley's "Ice King," August Armstrong, only to overhear him call our entire relationship a "training exercise" to win back my estranged stepsister, Caroline. He used me, then cast me aside, framing me for attacking Caroline at their engagement party after she deliberately broke my late mother's necklace. August's men beat me half to death and left me in an abandoned warehouse. "You're just a problem to be solved," they sneered. Lying broken on the concrete floor, I found August's phone. A text from Caroline glowed on the screen: "They dealt with her. She won't bother us again. See you at the wedding, my love." They thought they had buried me, but they only planted a seed. At their wedding, as they stood at the altar, the giant screens behind them flickered to life. Instead of their smiling faces, the entire world saw a video of Caroline, perfectly healthy, laughing with another man in Europe, followed by security footage of her shoving me into the path of a crashing car./1/116573/coverorgin.jpg?v=e46a86e06f477c5c02fdc95fd4e5962b&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Unwanted Wife's Spectacular Secret Comeback
On her second wedding anniversary, Althea waited in their luxury penthouse with a positive pregnancy test hidden in her pocket. But her husband, Darren, didn't come home to celebrate. He brought back Caroline-the woman he constantly protected-and her two twin boys. Caroline immediately played the helpless victim, taking Althea's designated seat at the dining table. When Caroline's spoiled son intentionally bumped hard into Althea's leg, Darren didn't even care. When the rich smell of food triggered Althea's severe morning sickness and she dry-heaved over the sink, Darren slammed his silverware down in disgust. "Stop using this childish fake sickness to get sympathy!" He glared at Althea, ordering her to show basic tolerance to Caroline or go back to her room. Althea stood frozen, her heart aching as she watched her husband patiently cut steak for another woman's child like a real family. Her two-year marriage was a complete joke. Why should she stay and be humiliated when he clearly didn't love her? She reached into her apron, but she didn't take out the pregnancy test. Instead, she pulled out the divorce papers, slammed them onto the table, and walked out into the cold night. Two years later, when Darren was trapped in a storm and forced to beg for shelter at her remote trailer, he had no idea his ex-wife was actually the ruthless corporate mastermind about to destroy his empire./0/18265/coverorgin.jpg?v=9944950f46e24832b77b074dd762d178&imageMogr2/format/webp)
I Like Your Shoes
"Sometimes, we are so smitten with happy endings, that we believe we'll end up with one too." Ambrosia Bellemore never believed in happy endings, even though the books she read said otherwise. The closest she ever came to magic was when she found the most beautiful pair of ruby red heels on Amazon. "Lives aren't stories. Stories end, happy or otherwise. But lives don't. We die, and there's nothing happy or otherwise in dying." Calum Achorn never believed in magic. The closest he ever came to magic was when he met an infuriatingly wonderful woman on a flight to New York, wearing the most beautiful pair of ruby red heels he'd ever seen./0/44221/coverorgin.jpg?v=a13f2ef9797050bcfad769c87477272d&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Her DARK World
[R18+, mature and sensitive content. A heart-wrenching tale of BEAUTY & the BEAST] In this World of Cruelty, I did something that kept me sane. I went against my family just to protect my sanity. I was a fighter. I was a survivor. But not anymore because this cruel world made me rotten. Now, I'm Cruel. I'm cold Hearted. I'm a Killer because I killed myself. I killed my own happiness. I ruined my own heart. My name is DUA and I'm nineteen years old student of Fashion Designer. And, my world is shattered by only four words. 'YOU ARE UNDER ARREST' Thank you ShineeSunshine ♥️/0/85102/coverorgin.jpg?v=ab2d67bad9f57b909e9fa9687303ba4c&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./1/107489/coverorgin.jpg?v=0d2e6fb2aefa1c31709de940d378fe18&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Pregnant Oracle: The CEO's Most Dangerous Mistake
I stared at the ceiling tiles of the sterile clinic, counting water stains to keep from screaming. The IVF transfer was complete, but the nurse didn’t call me a mother—she called the life inside me an "asset" for Caldwell Holdings. When I walked into my husband Alexander’s office to demand a divorce, he didn't even look up from his desk. He just laughed, shredded my legal papers, and told me I was nothing more than a high-end broodmare for his inheritance. The nightmare only deepened from there. To keep me in line, Alexander fabricated evidence of an affair to destroy my reputation. When I tried to run, he revealed he controlled the facility where my sister was on life support, threatening to pull the plug if I didn't submit. "One phone call, and her ventilator stops," he whispered. Even my own parents turned against me, demanding I apologize to Alexander’s mistress just to secure their next business merger. I was a prisoner in my own life, trapped between a husband who wanted to own me and a family that had already sold me. I couldn't understand why everyone was so obsessed with this pregnancy until I saw the fear in Alexander's eyes when his uncle, the powerful Harrison Sterling, started showing up at my door. I finally hacked into the clinic’s high-security database and found the truth. There had been a catastrophic lab breach the day of my procedure. The donor wasn't some anonymous third party. I wasn't carrying my husband's child. I was carrying his uncle's heir. As Alexander sent a hitman to stage a fatal "accident" on the Manhattan Bridge, I realized the war had just begun. This time, I wasn't just fighting for my life—I was holding the nuclear leverage that would burn the Caldwell empire to the ground./0/85751/coverorgin.jpg?v=4e452a2bd3a4f93a3662377dd42f299a&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Monster and His Mockery
The club's bass vibrated through Mark' s bones as he showered the squalling women with champagne. His wife, Sarah, lay miles away in a hospital bed, kept alive by tubes after a hit-and-run, the money from their house sale meant for her treatment now being thrown away on a lavish display. Suddenly, Sarah' s parents, the Smiths, stood before him, their faces etched with grief. They watched in horror as he publically humiliated them, throwing crumpled bills at his kneeling mother-in-law, even striking the woman on his lap. "You bastard. That' s her money! That' s the money for her treatment!" Mr. Smith roared, his face red with fury. Then, with chilling indifference, Mark told them Sarah was a vegetable and would die soon, revealing an "inoperable tumor." Mrs. Smith collapsed, bleeding from her mouth. The city exploded with outrage as videos of "MarkTheMonster" went viral, but he reveled in the hatred, driving straight to the hospital. There, Mr. Smith launched himself at Mark, screaming, "You killed her! Sarah is dead! And it' s your fault!" But when the doctor confirmed Sarah's death, Mark threw his head back and laughed, "Oh, thank God! I'm free!" He celebrated, declaring himself released from the burden of his wife, a woman who, in her dying breath, had recorded a message forgiving him and telling him to be happy. Then, in an unthinkable act, Mark pulled back the sheet from Sarah' s gurney and slapped her lifeless face, hissing, "You were more than a burden. You were a leech." The crowd erupted, consuming Mark in a storm of vigilante justice. As police intervened, Mark, battered but lucid, dropped a bombshell on Captain Miller. "How can I have killed a woman who isn' t actually dead?" he asked, pointing a bloody finger at the doctor. He accused Dr. Evans of fraud and attempted murder, revealing Sarah' s "injuries" were a minor concussion. He then pulled out Sarah' s real medical records and a recording implicating Mrs. Smith in funding the hit-and-run, claiming the Smiths had already conspired to kill his first wife, Ava. Just as the Smiths and Dr. Evans were cuffed, Sarah sat up, confirming the elaborate charade./0/89320/coverorgin.jpg?v=2311e0255263513d5cb6adc335d00ade&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Coma, Cruelty, and Caleb's Betrayal
After donating bone marrow to save my brother, a rare complication put me in a coma for five years. When I woke up, I found my family had replaced me. They had a new daughter, Hailie, a girl who looked just like me. They told me my jealousy over her caused a car crash that forced Hailie and my parents into hiding. To make me atone, my fiancé, Caleb, and my brother locked me in an isolated villa for three years. I was their prisoner, their slave, enduring their beatings because I believed my suffering was the price for my family's safety. Then, a doctor told me I had terminal lung cancer. My body was failing, but my tormentors decided on one last act of "kindness"-a surprise birthday trip to a luxury resort. There, I saw them all. My parents, my brother, my fiancé, and Hailie, alive and well, drinking champagne. I overheard their plan. My torture wasn't penance. It was a "lesson" to break me. My entire life had become a cruel joke. So, on my birthday, I walked to the highest bridge on the island, left behind my medical diagnosis and a recording of Hailie's confession, and jumped./0/99378/coverorgin.jpg?v=b7930e4a6e1bc0bbbb00438205482f9a&imageMogr2/format/webp)
When Love Turned To A Living Hell
I worked three jobs to support my paralyzed husband, Gavin, and our developmentally delayed son, Leo. Life was a relentless grind, but I held our shattered family together, even taking in Gavin's infertile, widowed sister, Celeste. Then, one day, I collapsed from exhaustion at a construction site. My son, Leo, ran to get help, only to be mauled to death by a pack of stray dogs. At a charity gala weeks later, Celeste, wearing a necklace Gavin once gave me, cornered me. She mocked Leo's death, then brutally kicked me in the stomach, causing internal bleeding that led to an emergency hysterectomy. I could never have children again. Gavin, however, believed Celeste's lies that I had attacked her. He threw a razor at my head, called me a monster, and left me bleeding on the floor. When I tried to leave our apartment with Leo's ashes, Gavin and Celeste accused me of cheating. In the struggle, they shattered the urn, scattering my son's remains across the floor. Gavin kicked the ashes, calling them "trash." But hidden inside Leo's teddy bear, I found a voice recorder. On it was a recording of Gavin and Celeste, their voices clear and strong. They had faked his paralysis, stolen his company's assets, and Celeste had even wished for Leo to be gone. The betrayal was so immense, I collapsed, coughing up blood, as my world went dark one last time./1/107490/coverorgin.jpg?v=d76fa07917cbfb7ff7cd6808abd4e821&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Oracle's Revenge: My Purchased Marriage
I’m the girl from the trailer park who married the coldest billionaire on Wall Street. To the world, I’m a lucky gold-digger. To Gustavus English, I’m just a $2 million "service fee" and a human shield to keep his board of directors from tearing him apart. The morning after he treated our intimacy like a cold business transaction, he threw a check at my face and called me a mistake. He didn't know that behind my "frightened doe" act, I was a finance genius at Columbia secretly shorting his company’s stock to destroy him from the inside. The humiliation was relentless. He forced me into expensive suits that made me look like a pathetic doll and paraded me in front of paparazzi to boost his stock price. Then his brother, Caspian, arrived—the man who laughed while bulldozing the orphanage of my childhood. Caspian recognized me, whispering threats of exposure while his eyes stripped me bare. "Don't method act with me, hillbilly. You aren't my wife," Gustavus hissed, pinning me against a marble wall. I felt the burning injustice of being a bought asset, trapped between a husband who despised me and a brother-in-law who wanted to break me. I was a victim playing a dangerous game, waiting for the right moment to strike. But at a high-stakes family dinner, the power struggle turned lethal. To stop his family from seizing his billions, Gustavus dropped a bomb that shattered my plans. "We are already working on an heir," he announced, activating a legal clause that froze the entire family trust. He dragged me into the shadows, his voice a dark command. "Now you have no choice. You get pregnant, or we lose everything. Don't make me regret this." He wanted a legacy to save his empire, but I was about to give him the most expensive mistake of his life./0/89321/coverorgin.jpg?v=4f9f59303cf8e1f3866f9decf07b1753&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Betrayal's Embrace: A Wife's Vengeance
The call came at dusk: my brother, Ezra, had been in a motorcycle accident. The doctor, his voice chillingly calm, said he needed immediate surgery. Then came the news that shattered my world: his leg was amputated. The surgeon, Dr. Kaitlin Russo, cited "complications," but I, an investigative blogger, smelled a lie. It wasn't a complication; it was a botched procedure. My exposé went viral, detailing her negligence. And then, it vanished—scrubbed from the internet. My husband, Hayden Bridges, a titan of Silicon Valley, was suddenly unreachable. My sister, Ivy, disappeared from her apartment, leaving behind nothing but a set of muddy footprints and a scent of fear. I found Kaitlin admiring a new diamond bracelet, a smirk playing on her lips. "Hayden takes very good care of me," she purred. The truth hit me like a physical blow. My husband wasn't just her powerful backer. He was her lover. He forced me to issue a public apology to Kaitlin, making me watch a live video feed of Ivy, terrified and weeping in a dark room. "She's safe," he promised, his voice cold as ice, "as long as you drop this." I had no choice. But my choice meant nothing. Ivy was tortured by Kaitlin's monstrous brother, Kyle, and died in my arms. Days later, Ezra was found dead in his hospital bed. In the desolate quiet of my grief, a new, cold purpose ignited within me. They had destroyed my family. I would burn his empire to the ground./1/102299/coverorgin.jpg?v=c6a510070907eafabfe40acd80af8c5b&imageMogr2/format/webp)
High Stakes Betrayal, A Winning Hand
My fiancé, Holden, married my best friend, Dominique, in Vegas. Tonight. Just hours before our lavish engagement party was set to begin. They announced it to our families and friends, calling it a "drunken mistake." Dominique, clinging to his arm, flashed a cheap ring and a triumphant smirk. She then proposed a high-stakes poker game to "celebrate," a cruel joke designed to humiliate me further. Holden, my fiancé of years, stood by her side. He even forced me to give up my grandmother's bracelet when I lost a hand, tossing the precious heirloom into a puddle of champagne. He told me it was just a game, that the bracelet meant nothing. But they didn't know my secret. I grew up in the underground poker scene. They thought they were playing with a fragile fiancée. They were about to lose everything to a shark./1/115277/coverorgin.jpg?v=04dab1d6db979c71dd53d2752efc2645&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Too Late CEO: The Runaway Wife Returns
Corrie lay restrained on the sterile hospital bed, her wrists bleeding against the thick leather straps. Her husband, Damon, walked in with eyes entirely black with disgust and ordered the nurse to drain her rare blood. He believed Corrie had pushed Kara, the woman he claimed as his savior, and he was willing to drain Corrie dry to save her. "As long as she doesn't die, keep drawing. Kara's life is worth a hundred of hers." He ignored the frantic beeping of her heart monitor and walked out, leaving her slipping into hypovolemic shock. Using her last ounce of strength, Corrie escaped the clinic and hailed a taxi in the freezing rain, just wanting to survive. But the driver locked the doors and deliberately drove the speeding car straight off the bridge into the raging Hudson River. As the icy water swallowed her and she tried to swim out of the shattered windshield, a black-gloved hand grabbed her ankle. The inhuman grip dragged her down into the crushing, dark depths, filling her lungs with liquid fire. As her vision faded to black, Corrie's heart shattered into a million pieces. Why did the man she loved believe a lying stranger over his own wife? And who was the assassin in the dark water making sure she died? Five years later, Corrie walked out of the airport with a new, untouchable identity and a pair of genius twins. The freezing river had permanently ruined her heart and lungs, but it had also forged her into a ruthless survivor. She swore to never let the Holloway family touch her again, until her son's identical icy blue eyes caught the attention of the billionaire CEO she thought she had escaped./0/99379/coverorgin.jpg?v=f431b6a870473075e177134b68b509ce&imageMogr2/format/webp)
When Love Dies And Memories Fade
To save my grandmother, I married a man who hated me. He never knew I was the one who secretly saved his life with a bone marrow donation. And when my grandmother lay dying, he refused to pay for the surgery that would have saved her. He called it another one of my "dramas," laughing as my last hope died. But he didn't just kill my grandmother. He killed our child, too. I was secretly pregnant, part of a billion-dollar surrogacy deal to get the money for her care. When I begged him, showing him the ultrasound, his reply was cold. "Get rid of it." With my grandmother dead and my heart destroyed, I finally gave up. He would always believe the lies of his mistress-my sister-who had stolen the credit for saving him. So I terminated the pregnancy, signed the divorce papers, and paid a doctor to erase every memory of him. Now, he stands before me, a broken man begging for forgiveness, but I can only look into his tear-filled eyes and ask, "I'm sorry, who are you?"/0/83481/coverorgin.jpg?v=caa5dba692c9d39452b5398cc533ab51&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Widow's Vengeance: A Second Chance
The funeral was a grand affair, fitting for a hero. My husband, Michael, a decorated NYPD detective, was killed in the line of duty, they said. I stood by the open casket, three-year-old Leo clutching my hand, expected to be a shattered, grieving widow. But I felt absolutely nothing. Because the man in that casket wasn't Michael. It was his identical twin, Mark. And the man openly sobbing beside my mother-in-law, the one they called "Mark," was my husband, Michael. I knew this because I' d lived this nightmare once before. In my first life, I' d exposed his lie. His response? He had me committed, claiming my grief drove me mad. From a barred window, I watched him marry his high school sweetheart, Ashley. That night, he gave our son, Leo, 'sleeping medication.' A week later, Leo never woke up. The loss of everything-my child, my freedom, my entire life-was too much. I ended it, regretting only not calling my kind college friend, David. Then, I woke up. I was back, standing before the casket, Leo' s warm hand in mine. I remembered Michael' s chilling words to his mother: "Chloe is strong. She'll manage. I'll take Mark's place." He thought I' d quietly raise our son while he lived happily ever after. He was terribly wrong. This time, I wouldn't be strong for him. I would play his grieving widow. And I would burn his entire world to ashes./0/90619/coverorgin.jpg?v=19e891e6e799a98507976f1918dfdec3&imageMogr2/format/webp)
His Promise, Her Ruin
Tonight was supposed to be the greatest night of my career. I was the frontrunner for the Pinnacle Prize, the highest honor in architecture. But the award went to a complete unknown—my fiancé’s first love, the widow of his older brother. My fiancé, Kason, the man who was supposed to build my winning design, had given my life's work away to her. He said she needed it more. He then forced me to mentor her, letting her take credit for my projects. During a promotional shoot, he stood by and watched as she slapped me again and again under the guise of "getting the shot right." When I finally slapped her back, he had me fired and blacklisted from the entire industry. He didn't stop there. He pushed me to the ground in a hospital hallway, causing me to bleed, and then abandoned me. He did all this while I was carrying his child. Lying on that cold hospital floor, I made a decision. I took my unborn baby and disappeared. I flew to a new country, changed my name, and cut off all ties. For five years, we were ghosts./1/116575/coverorgin.jpg?v=f16489459db17245e686c524b91b13de&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Flash Marriage To My Fake Disabled Husband
I spent five years in a federal prison. The day I was released, my ex-fiancé's new lover threw a hundred-dollar bill into an icy puddle. "Wash the prison stench off before you crawl back to the gutters." But her mockery was the least of my problems. My adoptive family immediately cut off my dying mother's life support. They gave me a brutal ultimatum: forfeit my inheritance and marry a stranger within three days, or they would pull the plug at midnight. Desperate to pay the hospital bills, I accepted a dark web contract marriage with a bankrupt, paralyzed man. I moved into his rat-infested Brooklyn apartment. I pawned my only antique necklace to buy him warm clothes, cooked his meals, and even took a job as a maid to pay off his mounting debts. I thought we were just two broken people trying to survive at rock bottom. But I started noticing terrifying inconsistencies. Why did his scent exactly match the suffocating, powerful stranger who pinned me to a bed in a pitch-black hotel room just days ago? And why did my new employer's fortified Hamptons estate have military-grade thermal cameras hidden in the trees? I thought I was carefully hiding my past as a trained killer to protect a helpless cripple. I didn't know my "bankrupt" husband was actually the billionaire owner of that estate, sitting in his control room, watching my every move on the security cameras./0/97433/coverorgin.jpg?v=09e9b04c715796b0000dd62a81e6ce68&imageMogr2/format/webp)
