Modern Books for Women
Bestsellers Ongoing Completed
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The Unwanted Heiress And The Cold-Hearted CEO
"You don't belong here. Get out!" Hanna, the rightful Wheeler daughter, came back only to be expelled by her family. Her fiancé cheated on her with the fake daughter, her brothers looked down on her, and her father ignored her. Then, she crossed paths with Chris, the formidable leader of the Willis family and her fiancé's uncle. "Let's pretend it never happened." Despite Hanna's hope to part ways, Chris insisted she be responsible. He threatened to reveal Hanna's true talents as an outstanding doctor, a brilliant screenwriter, and the brains behind a famous design studio, forcing her into marriage. Chris was once asked to protect someone. Destiny reunited them in tricky circumstances. He had planned to keep his promise and provide a safe haven, only to find Hanna was far from the delicate woman she seemed. She was witty and cunning.../0/45407/coverorgin.jpg?v=769658f617b0af72fdc1af2eb7cfa17c&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Strange Love: My Wife Is My Sworn Enemy
Caroline was known to be the brain behind the downfall of the Patel family. She fled abroad for many years and then returned out of the blue. One night, Rafael Patel accosted her in a public place and pressed her against the wall. His eyes were filled with aggression. "When did I give you permission to do that?" "Let me go! Rumors will spread if people find us like this. Behave yourself. I don't owe you shit!" she coldly uttered, trying to struggle. The next day, all the influential figures in the city received a stern warning. "Gossip about Mrs. Patel will no longer be tolerated. Anyone found guilty will be dealt with!" Everyone who was waiting for Caroline's downfall was dumbfounded. Since when did she become Mrs. Patel? Why did Rafael marry his family's sworn enemy?/0/79041/coverorgin.jpg?v=a614d2c40feb61229bf985d726c35098&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Secret I Heard in the Operating Room Changed Everything
I'd had a hopeless crush on Rhett Beaumont since I was practically a kid. He was my dad's business partner – older, suave, the kind of Southern gentleman who could charm anyone. For years, I'd built up these elaborate daydreams about him. Then, at the annual Historical Society Gala, he finally seemed to see me. His smile, just for me, made my heart do that stupid little flip. He leaned in, promising a private chat later, and my head was spinning. This was it. But "it" turned into a horrifying trap. A week later, after a staged mugging where he played the hero, we ended up in a passionate encounter. That single night led to his childhood sweetheart, Caroline, crashing her car. Then came our cold, guilt-driven marriage, years of painful, invasive IVF treatments, and him controlling every aspect of my life. The final blow? Hearing him coldly tell the doctors, "Just let her go if it comes to that," as I bled out on an operating table. He never loved me. Not for a second. I was just a pawn, a convenient distraction in his twisted games. He blamed me for Caroline's accident, resented my very existence. My body became a failed experiment, my spirit crushed under his icy indifference. All those years of adoration, wasted on a man who saw me as less than nothing. The injustice of it all was a physical ache. How could I have been so stupidly blind to his manipulation? He'd used my innocent crush to utterly destroy me. The man I'd put on a pedestal despised me enough to watch me die. Then, blackness. My last thought: what a complete fool I'd been. But in the next instant, I gasped, my eyes snapping open. The scent of lilies and champagne filled the air. I was standing by that same floral arrangement at the Gala, the night it all began. Rhett Beaumont was walking towards me, that familiar, predatory smile on his face. I was dead. I knew I was. Yet, here I was. A second chance? This time, things would be different./1/117681/coverorgin.jpg?v=80954f4e802b60faa51534762913251b&imageMogr2/format/webp)
When His Love Died, Her Life Bloomed
The photograph curled in the fireplace. I watched my own face turn black, blister, and dissolve into ash. My wedding photo. The one where I was smiling and he was almost smiling. I placed the engagement ring and the wedding band side by side on his desk. Next to them, the keys. On top, the letter for Mrs. Tucker. In the elevator, I took out my SIM card and snapped it in half. The sound was small. Final. I dropped the broken pieces and the phone into a public trash can on the corner. A yellow cab pulled up. "Where to?" Anywhere. As long as it wasn't here. I got in and looked ahead, through the windshield, at the gray, uncertain road. This time, I did not look back. Three months later. I sat on the porch of a small cottage, a mug of coffee warming my hands. The morning fog rolled in off the Pacific, smelling of salt and pine. No one knew I was here. No one in this town had ever heard the name Harlow Thornton. I was Harlow Graham. And I was alive again. But I should have known that a man like Axel Thornton would never let go. I just didn't know how far he would go to find me./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./1/103289/coverorgin.jpg?v=5698da5a017a776de590fc8bd85a13fd&imageMogr2/format/webp)
His Political Lie, My Shattered Love
My husband, a rising political star, begged me to reconcile. I thought our love story was real. It was a lie, a public spectacle designed for his political gain and my systematic destruction. On our anniversary, I found a group chat on his tablet. He and his mistress were laughing about how predictable I was, calling me a "naive fool" for believing his promises. The cruelty escalated from there. He poisoned my food, publicly humiliated me at a charity auction that left me bankrupt, and even had me whipped in his family's basement as a twisted form of punishment. The final blow came when I overheard him plotting my murder. He planned a "tragic hiking accident" at a remote cliff during a storm, a perfect crime to make me disappear forever. But I turned his murder plot into my own escape. I faked my death and started over as a baker in a quiet town. A year later, he found me, haunted by regret, but his final act of redemption-and the true cost of my freedom-was something I never saw coming./0/86394/coverorgin.jpg?v=6c717af0cf3e2e392924cb63e04f2a1b&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Irresistible Seduction: Married For Deception, Loved For Real
Five years into marriage, Hannah caught Vincent slipping into a hotel with his first love-the woman he never forgot. The sight told her everything-he'd married her only for her resemblance to his true love. Hurt, she conned him into signing the divorce papers and, a month later, said, "Vincent, I'm done. May you two stay chained together." Red-eyed, he hugged her. "You came after me first." Her firm soon rocketed toward an IPO. At the launch, Vincent watched her clasp another man's hand. In the fitting room, he cornered her, tears burning in his eyes. "Is he really that perfect? Hannah, I'm sorry... marry me again."/0/91400/coverorgin.jpg?v=ece9e29ca924005490dbcd599a573c33&imageMogr2/format/webp)
When Love Dies, Revenge Begins
The day they buried my four-year-old son, Leo, killed by a hit-and-run, the driver, Karyn Morse, showed up at his grave. She smiled, dropped Leo' s favorite toy into his open casket, and called him a "clumsy little thing." My husband, District Attorney David Blair, the city' s pillar of strength, stood by, silent. I, an investigative journalist, knew I' d find justice. I had the evidence, the witness, a Pulitzer-winning track record. But Karyn Morse was different. The judge, beholden to her powerful father, dismissed everything. She walked free. Then, the bailiff called my name. "Eva Benton, you are under arrest." My own husband, Leo' s father, prosecuted me for criminal negligence. He twisted my grief, my frantic search for truth, into a paranoid obsession. My best friend, Cheri, testified against me, claiming I was unstable. The jury found me guilty. Three years in a maximum-security prison. For being a grieving mother. For losing my son. I lost another child in prison, a secret I buried deep. Why? Why did he do it? Why did he betray me? The day I was released, I found him at Leo' s grave, with Karyn and their son. "Daddy, can we go get ice cream now?" Karyn cooed, "We have to say hi to your brother." My world shattered. He hadn' t just framed me; he had replaced me. He had replaced our son. "Worried?" he said, when Karyn asked about me. "Why would I be? She' s nothing to me now." The thread snapped. I called Cheri. "I need your help, Cheri."/0/80293/coverorgin.jpg?v=94cdaa48235aa98103a67cf4bde10a0c&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Son-in-Law Who Stole My Life
After three years of living in California, selflessly caring for my granddaughter so my daughter and son-in-law could work, I was finally home in Oregon. My daughter, Susan, had handed me a $3,000 envelope at the airport, a token of thanks I thought was true appreciation for my sacrifice. But the quiet comfort barely lasted moments. My son-in-law, Kevin, called, his voice dripping with venom. The $3,000 wasn’t a gift, he sneered, but a "gesture" – money he now demanded back for their "emergency fund" and growing expenses. My own daughter, Susan, echoed his plea, asking me to return it "for peace." This was just the beginning. Kevin's audacity spiraled; he demanded I sell *my* home, the one filled with my late husband’s memories, to fund theirs, and later, using my granddaughter as a pawn, coerced me into handing over access to all my bank accounts and property deeds, draining my life savings. How could the very people I’d sacrificed three years of my life for, my own flesh and blood, turn so utterly against me, their greed a bottomless pit that consumed every ounce of decency? But when they staged a public spectacle, trying to paint me as the villain, I knew the time for quiet suffering was over. With hidden security footage and damning audio recordings, I prepared to expose their manipulative, abusive game for the entire world to see./0/82796/coverorgin.jpg?v=0ef32092c10c739f39e89d5ed9102d24&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Mother They Erased
My world shattered when our first son, Noah, "died" after my C-section. My husband, Ethan, seemed heartbroken, convincing me a new baby would heal our shared sorrow. I truly believed he was my solace. Then, at a prenatal visit, I overheard Ethan's chilling confession: "Noah is thriving with Cassandra." My son was alive! And our unborn daughter, Olivia, was also promised to his childhood sweetheart. Ethan's grief was a monstrous lie. My marriage was a cold, calculated deception; I was a mere incubator. His "care" became suffocating control, revealing Noah's happy life with Cassandra. The ultimate horror: he plotted a non-consensual hysterectomy during Olivia's birth to silence me permanently. My tears turned to icy fury. How could the man I loved steal my children, fake their deaths, and plan to mutilate me? The profound injustice consumed my soul. When Olivia was "born" and "died" in his vile narrative, followed by my forced hysterectomy, I refused to crumble. Playing the grieving victim, I secretly honed a fierce resolve. Amy Walker, no longer just a victim, was now armed with their dark secrets, ready to ignite their world./1/102820/coverorgin.jpg?v=13b26b7bfcf27dc173de184c6e3bcb5a&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Hidden Heiress's Campus Betrayal
To escape the tragic legacy of my famous mother, I hid my identity, becoming a plain, forgettable film student. I fell hard for Hayes McCall, the campus playboy, believing our love was real. But he was just using me. I was a human shield, a decoy to protect the real object of his affection: the fragile campus "it-girl," Karmen. He let me get bullied and kidnapped. He stole my thesis film-a tribute to my mother's memory-and gave it to Karmen to claim as her own. When I tried to fight back, he destroyed my work, my past, everything. At graduation, my ex-roommate projected a video to the entire auditorium, branding me a high-class escort who slept with powerful men. "She's a disgrace!" she screamed, as the crowd turned on me. I calmly walked to the podium, my voice cutting through the noise. "You're accusing a Zamora of being a gold-digger?" I let the name hang in the air before delivering the final blow. "I don't climb the ladder. I am the ladder."/0/83109/coverorgin.jpg?v=b345c57ecbd55de168ff9f8c7d8691d3&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Daughter I Lost to Greed
I'd built my catering business from scratch, pouring every dollar into my daughter Emily's future, envisioning a modest, joyful wedding. But then Kevin's mother, Brenda, dropped a bombshell: Emily was pregnant, and they demanded a $50,000 wedding plus another $50,000 for a house – my "responsibility." My own daughter, manipulated by Brenda, sided against me, echoing their absurd demands and cutting me off. They married without me, then Emily even tried to set me up with a strange man, and Brenda openly demanded my house. How could my sweet, cherished Emily become so unrecognizable, so deeply brainwashed by this monstrous greed? The absolute betrayal tore my heart apart, leaving me shattered and utterly bewildered. Desperate, I listed my house, planning to escape to Oregon. But Emily's final call, a plea for reconciliation over dinner, was a trap. Drugged and helpless, I overheard Brenda order Kevin to murder me and inherit everything. This wasn't just about money anymore; it was about survival./1/104541/coverorgin.jpg?v=f49bf4de84142b53b93ecf3651d5f847&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Traded For Ambition: The Mistress Strikes Back
I spent five years laundering Ethan Cole’s dirty money through my architectural designs, believing his lies that I was the love of his life, not just his mistress. But the moment he secured a marriage alliance with the Vances, I became a liability. I tried to resign quietly, but his new fiancée, Isabella, wanted sport. She didn't just fire me; she destroyed me. At a high-society gala, she projected my private, intimate photos onto the big screen while the city's elite laughed. I looked at Ethan, begging him to stop it. He didn't flinch. He just sipped his scotch and watched me get dragged out by security. It got worse. Desperate for my severance pay to leave town, I met Ethan one last time. He didn't give me a check. Instead, he locked me in a library with a corrupt official, telling me I had to "service" the man to secure a zoning permit. He had literally sold me for a signature. I escaped into the pouring rain with nothing but the clothes on my back, realizing the man I loved was a monster who viewed me as disposable property. I was shivering in an alley, waiting to die, when a black SUV pulled up. The window rolled down to reveal Noah Miller—the most dangerous Don in the city and Ethan’s mortal enemy. He didn't look at me with lust or pity. He looked at me with cold fury. "Get in," Noah said, unlocking the door. "Let's go remind them why you don't throw away a diamond."/0/85925/coverorgin.jpg?v=10fddd8729ff58a7294e97a3aa7e5374&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Fatal Glow, Stolen Life
The shrill alarm sliced through the quiet, dragging me back to a body that felt impossibly light, unmarked by the scars that should have been there. I was 24 again, in the apartment Liam rented, a year before our wedding, a year before everything fell apart. The memory hit like a cold shock: Liam' s voice, not of concern, but sharp with disappointment after my liposuction failed. "Chloe, the doctor said the liposuction failed. You didn't lose enough weight. The wedding is in two months. Do you understand how this makes me look?" And Maya, my best friend, whispering comfort that I now knew was pure poison. "Oh, Chloe, don't listen to him. You tried so hard. Maybe your body just isn't meant to be thin." She watched, smiling, as I starved myself, ran myself ragged, and went under the knife, all for Liam' s "perfect image"-until a post-op infection finally claimed me. It wasn't until I was dying that I understood the curse, the horrifying truth: every ounce of fat I lost, every bit of vitality I drained from myself, was subtly transferred to Maya. She wasn't just my best friend; she was a parasite, feeding on my self-hatred, growing more radiant as I withered. But I wasn't the weak, naive Chloe who died in that hospital bed. This time, I knew their cruel game. And this time, I wasn't just going to play. I was going to win./1/103446/coverorgin.jpg?v=733804086506bd151a73e3150fa9b994&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Accused Heiress: A Public Betrayal
My parents sat across from me on a live TV court show, their faces a mask of practiced sorrow for the cameras. They publicly condemned me as a thief and a heartless daughter, accusing me of abandoning them after my father's "accident" and demanding my entire inheritance. The scrolling comments behind them called me a "MONSTER." My mother cried fake tears while my cousin, Karsyn, offered her a comforting hand, her eyes glinting with triumph. They painted a picture of a family on the brink of ruin, all because of my supposed selfishness. They looked at me as if I were something rotten, and a familiar ache filled my chest. Why did my own family hate me so much? But this was a show designed to break me. When the host asked for my plea, I met the camera's gaze. "Not guilty," I stated clearly. "And I request the court use the memory retrieval device."/0/20378/coverorgin.jpg?v=a25a03dabfac3ab135744d10605487f8&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Exclusive Sex Worker
She was out of options, she needed something, she needed to do something - she needed money so she agreed to work in a sêx house, as a sêx worker. She joined the house and started her first training on how to be a perfect sexy girl, how to make a man go crazy with just a touch. But then, something happened along the line in the sex club house, she met the most powerful, cold,never smiling CEO last prince. She didn't just meet him because she wanted to, but, because he ordered for her service, for her to serve him, pleasure him whenever he needed her. She didn't have a choice, she had to do it. The pay was too high, no normal lady would ever refuse him, no one at all. So, she started her job on how to pleasure and please the prince until he was no longer in need of her service. Her name is pink......!/0/99848/coverorgin.jpg?v=687bae4729138509498c5d98d7357f85&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Barren Wife's Cold Hearted Revenge
For eight years, I endured seven miscarriages, clinging to the hope of starting a family with my husband, Joshua. Then I overheard the truth. He and my adoptive sister, Harlow, had orchestrated every loss. They needed the unique stem cells from my miscarriages to cure their own secret child. My body was just an incubator for their twisted plan. After the eighth miscarriage, they left me barren, my womb removed to save my life. They stole my children, my future, and my ability to ever be a mother. They thought I was a broken, naive princess. They had no idea they had just created a queen bent on revenge. Now, I'm back. And I will burn their empire to the ground, leaving them with nothing but the ashes of their betrayal./1/102351/coverorgin.jpg?v=e27e954d8ac59a7a1ebb2cf78c77dc4f&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Leaving The Billionaire Who Loved His Ex
My father was dying on a hospital bed, and I was frantically calling my husband, Ethan. He didn't answer. Later, he claimed his battery had died while he was on a crucial business trip. But a photo sent by my best friend revealed the sickening truth. Ethan wasn't working. He was in a London café, looking at Olivia—the ex-girlfriend he swore he hadn't seen in five years—with pure desperation and love. His phone was sitting right there on the table between them, face up and fully charged. I swallowed the betrayal and played the perfect, grieving wife when he returned. But then I found the locked drawer in his study. Inside wasn't just a shrine of photos of her; it was a journal. The ink was barely dry on the latest entry. "I pray the child has Olivia's eyes. If it looks like her, I can pretend I didn't settle for the safe, boring option. Ava is a good placeholder, but she isn't Her." He didn't want a family with me. He wanted to use my body to recreate a ghost of the woman he actually loved. He planned to turn our unborn child into a prop for his twisted obsession. I wiped my tears. The next morning, I handed him a stack of documents to sign, hiding the divorce papers in the middle. Then, while he was busy texting her under the table, I walked into a clinic to remove the only thing binding us together. He thinks he is the mastermind. He has no idea he has already lost the game./0/83735/coverorgin.jpg?v=e6fc3658b478f266cf0fb3fd3348fc9e&imageMogr2/format/webp)
My Wife, The Stranger
My mother, Eleanor Vance, was a Broadway legend, but my wife, Chloe, her star pupil and a rising star herself, treated me like an understudy. For two grueling months, Mom was dying, and Chloe, on a "promotional tour" in Europe with her agent, ignored my hundreds of desperate calls and texts. The night Mom passed, Chloe finally picked up, her voice sharp with annoyance. When I told her Mom was gone, she responded with a cold, disbelieving laugh, accusing me of lying and manipulation, then hung up. I buried my mother alone, while Chloe chose to attend a lavish funeral for her agent' s cat, scoffing at my grief and praising his "strength" in mourning a pet. The injustice of it all, the sheer audacity of her betrayal, settled in my bones as a heavy, cold weight. Every interaction with her, from her disingenuous attempts at seduction to her hysterical denial when I said I wanted a divorce, clawed at the last vestiges of my sanity. Her casual disregard for my mother's death felt like a final, devastating blow. Why had she ignored us? How could she be so callous, so utterly devoid of empathy, mourning a cat while my mother' s grave lay fresh? What kind of person pretends their mentor is alive just to avoid confrontation? I packed a shovel in my car and drove her and her agent to Woodlawn Cemetery. It was time to reveal the brutal truth, to force her to face the reality she' d so gleefully ignored, and to finally take back my shattered life./0/51509/coverorgin.jpg?v=52e4aade234ccf90ce9123085eea3163&imageMogr2/format/webp)
