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Modern Books for Women

Bestsellers Ongoing Completed
Left To Die: Now The CEO Begs

Left To Die: Now The CEO Begs

On our third anniversary, my husband Marcus walked out on our dinner because his "best friend" Izzy had a crisis. That was the ninth time he chose her call over my presence. According to the sick bet I made with her years ago, it was game over. But the true end didn't come in a restaurant. It happened inside a plummeting elevator. When the cable snapped and the emergency brakes slammed us to a halt, I lay trapped under debris, my leg fractured and head bleeding. Izzy, terrified but scratched-free, screamed for help. Marcus didn't even look at me. He stepped over my broken body to scoop her up. "I've got you, Iz," he whispered, carrying her out to safety while I lay alone in the dust, gasping his name. He left me to die in that metal box. Later, when I confronted him, he called me "unstable" and "jealous." He claimed I was a burden, a placeholder he married just to pass the time until Izzy was ready for him. He even shoved me into a freezing lake to protect her from a confrontation she started. He thought I would always be there, the pathetic wife waiting in the shadows. He thought his love was a prize I would endure any torture to keep. He was wrong. I signed the divorce papers, threw my ring into the ocean, and vanished without a trace. Three years later, I returned to New York as a celebrated artist, with a man who treated me like a masterpiece, not a prop. Marcus, now ruined by Izzy’s lies and stripped of his fortune, found me. He knelt in the rain on the city street, weeping, begging for one more chance to fix us. I looked down at the husband who had let me drown. "There is no 'us', Marcus," I said calmly. Then I turned my back on him and walked into my future.
Beyond Her Cruelest Lie

Beyond Her Cruelest Lie

The "Dreamland Adventures" carousel flashed, a stark contrast to the bruised purple sky. It was my twins' fifth birthday, a day meant for joy, but dread tightened in my stomach with every distant thunder roll. Sophia, my neurodivergent daughter, pointed at the Ferris wheel, her voice pure happiness: "Daddy, look! Can we go on that one next? Please?" Leo, always more sensitive, clutched my hand. "It' s getting loud, Daddy." My wife, Olivia, a busy CEO, had insisted on this flashy park, then vanished. This was her grand gesture, now she was nowhere. My tenth call finally connected. "What, Ethan?" Olivia' s voice was sharp, impatient, a loud cocktail party behind her. Mark Jenkins, her ex, laughed nearby. I pleaded, "Olivia, where are you? The storm is getting worse, the park is shutting down rides. The kids are scared." "Don' t be so dramatic. It' s just a little rain." Her lie, so blatant, left me breathless. "I can' t just leave, Ethan. Mark is having an emergency. His father is ill. I need to be here for him." I held Sophia' s hopeful gaze. Olivia' s dismissive sigh echoed: "Sophia will be fine. You' re there, aren' t you? That' s your job. Just take them on one more ride to shut them up and then go home." My heart screamed no, but her words pushed me into a corner. "Okay, sweetie," I said, my voice tight. "One last ride." "This is the best birthday ever!" Sophia shouted as the Cosmic Rocket lurched upward. It was the last thing I ever heard her say. The ride groaned, a metallic screech ripped the air, and her car detached. It just… fell. My world ended. Hours later, on the wet pavement, I received a notification. Olivia' s social media: a picture of her and Mark, champagne glasses raised. "To new beginnings and rekindling old flames! Best night ever." She was celebrating. While our daughter lay dead and our son was broken, she was celebrating. A black, icy rage washed over me. It wasn't an accident. It was the direct result of her choice. Sophia is dead. "Ethan, this is not the time for your melodrama. I told you I' m dealing with something serious. Stop trying to get my attention." Her phone call followed, syrupy and annoyed: "Honestly, Ethan, you need to grow up. I have a real crisis on my hands. Just handle the kids. I' ll send you some money. Buy them something nice." Then, muffled, "Sorry, honey. Just Ethan being needy again." Needy. For telling her our child was gone. My father-in-law, Richard Hayes, arrived, crumpled and old. "My little Sophia." I showed him Olivia' s texts. He heard the voice note. His face shifted from grief to disbelief, then to a deep, terrible fury. "That… woman. She is no daughter of mine." He looked at me, eyes clearing. "I' m so sorry, Ethan. I' m sorry I ever let you marry her. I was a fool." The doctor' s words echoed: "He' s not speaking, Mr. Davis. Selective mutism." Olivia hadn' t just abandoned them. She had destroyed them both. In that sterile hallway, my decision was made. Not about grief, but justice. "I want a divorce. She will never see Leo again." Richard nodded. "Whatever it takes. I' m with you."
Pampered By The Ruthless Apex CEO

Pampered By The Ruthless Apex CEO

Chloe woke up in an unfamiliar hotel suite, her veins burning with a chemical fire. Her gambling-addicted stepfather had drugged and sold her to a wealthy predator to cover his debts. The buyer, Ethan Carlisle, expected a submissive toy. Instead, Chloe smashed a crystal lamp over his head, jumped out a third-floor window into the freezing rain, and threw herself directly in the path of a sleek black Maybach. The man inside was Julian Carlisle, Ethan's ruthlessly cold billionaire cousin. He didn't save her out of pity; he took her purely to humiliate Ethan. Julian treated her like tainted property, forcing her into an ice-cold shower to wash off his cousin's "filth." He even nearly strangled her when she tried to bandage his injured hand. Desperate, Chloe stripped naked to prove she was completely untouched, negotiating a single chance to interview at his investment firm. But the nightmare was far from over. Furious at losing his payout, her stepfather kidnapped her critically ill mother from the care facility. "Three million dollars in three days, or accidents happen to her," he threatened. Pushed to the absolute brink, Chloe realized she was surrounded by monsters who viewed her as nothing but a pawn to be sold, used, or broken. She refused to die a victim. Dragging her bruised body to the Apex tower for her interview, Ethan cornered her in the stairwell, violently ripping her clothes. When Julian and his top executives suddenly opened the door, Chloe didn't cry for help. She looked the cold billionaire dead in the eye and weaponized his own corporate reputation against him, forcing him into a corner. She lowered herself, tried her best to seduce him, advancing step by step with calculated moves...
Abandoned Ugly to Stunning Beauty: Pursued by the Top Billionaire

Abandoned Ugly to Stunning Beauty: Pursued by the Top Billionaire

Isabella Anderson's life was turned upside down by a single sentence from her doctor: "Miss Isabella Anderson, you are pregnant." The shocking news left her utterly bewildered. Despite being nineteen, she had never been intimate with any man. Even more incredible was that the lab results showed she was already four months pregnant. The doctor informed her that due to her physical condition, she couldn't undergo an abortion and would have to carry the baby to term. Returning home, Isabella's father, Lucas Anderson, was furious. Rumors spread rapidly, and everyone began mocking her. Speculation arose that the Mitchell family, her fiancé's family, would undoubtedly call off the engagement. As everyone awaited the Mitchell family's response, her fiancé, Dylan Mitchell, unexpectedly appeared at the Anderson household. Seeing Isabella's swollen belly and her unattractive appearance, Dylan angrily declared that although he loathed Isabella, he wouldn't call off the engagement if the baby could be given away after birth. Isabella, moving from confusion to reluctant acceptance of reality, had already developed feelings for her child after feeling its heartbeat. She firmly refused to give up the baby or allow the engagement to be called off. At that moment, her baby decided to come early, and she went into labor amid the chaos. **Five Years Later** "Mommy, wake up, the plane is taxiing!" Isabella was awakened by her daughter Amelia's voice as they returned from abroad. Over the past five years, Isabella was no longer the overweight and unattractive girl she once was. She had become slim, exuding an exceptional charm, and now stood out as a stunning beauty. She informed Amelia that their return was primarily to handle the annulment of her engagement with the Mitchell family, but her most important mission was to find her other child, who had been taken away by force. Just after stepping off the plane, Isabella received a call informing her that Asher Perez, the head of the most powerful family, was gathering information about her worldwide. Isabella had a secret identity: she was the world's top surgeon, and Asher wanted to find her to cure his family member's illness. However, Isabella was not concerned about this; her priority was to find her son and avoid getting entangled in the affairs of powerful families. As she left the airport, Isabella unexpectedly ran into her former fiancé, Dylan. Dylan did not recognize the slimmed-down Isabella and flirtatiously approached her. Isabella gave him a cold glance and walked away with Amelia. Upon returning to her home country, Isabella checked into a luxurious hotel owned by the Perez Group. Unexpectedly, she encountered a little boy, Charles Perez, and mistook him for her daughter. It turned out that Charles was Asher Perez's son. Seeing their interaction, Asher mistakenly believed Isabella was trying to use Charles to get close to him. Their meeting was disastrous, and at this point, Asher had no idea that the beautiful woman was the top surgeon he had been desperately searching for.
Betrayed By Her Beloved

Betrayed By Her Beloved

Ten years. That' s how long I' d spent in Ironwood, a frozen hell disguised as a "rehabilitation" facility, stripped bare. Finally, I was home, a woman I barely recognized, clinging to Marcus and Leo' s hollow promises of normalcy. I just wanted peace, to be safe. The recycled air inside felt foreign after the clean Alaskan crispness. But peace was a cruel illusion. I overheard them talking, my husband and my son, their voices low and urgent. "She took the fall," Marcus confessed, "It was convenient." My blood ran cold. The "Aegis data breach" that stole a decade of my life was no accident of negligence, but a calculated frame-up by my own family to protect Vivian. Their "sympathy" was a meticulously constructed performance. My husband, the man who comforted me, was having an affair with my adoptive sister, Vivian, who now held my former title. She paraded in front of me wearing the gown Marcus had commissioned for my anniversary. My son, Leo, defended her, then burned my cherished journals for him, making space for "Aunt Viv's" things. This house was not a home, but a gilded cage built on lies. My own father lauded Vivian as a family "asset," subtly shaming me. The trust that had flickered within me was extinguished, replaced by a cold, burning fury. They had conveniently buried me for ten years in a brutal Alaskan prison, then expected me to play along. My heart hammered with an overwhelming sense of injustice and betrayal. They thought I was still broken. They were wrong. Amidst the ashes of my old life, my mother's cryptic words from years ago echoed: "The Seraphina Protocol. My escape hatch." A meticulous archivist, a planner, was reawakening. The gala would be their stage, yes. But soon, it would be mine.