Modern Books for Women
Bestsellers Ongoing Completed
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Burnt for Her, Saved by Amnesia
I woke up in the hospital with a fractured tibia and a hell of a headache, but the worst part? Amnesia. They said I'd forgotten someone important, but when my buddy Matt showed up, his face etched with worry, and asked, "You really don't remember Emily?", I drew a blank. Emily who? Turns out, pre-accident me was obsessed with Matt's sister, Emily. Chased her for two years straight, showering her with flowers, gifts, and even redesigning my whole damn apartment in hopes of impressing her. Total cringe. The kicker? She wasn't interested. Cold, distant, and according to Matt, I was bordering on stalker territory. My phone was filled with creepy candid shots of her, and my notes app looked like a stalker's diary. Likes, dislikes, journal entries detailing every rejection. I was horrified. This wasn't love; this was a damn train wreck. Who was this pathetic dude? Then, standing at the edge of a new life, my mom mentioned Chloe, a childhood friend, and a potential architectural project back home at her family's farm. Ditching my city life and all those toxic memories, I vowed to never love her again. Forget getting my memories back; I was starting fresh. This time, with someone genuine./1/104074/coverorgin.jpg?v=59ccc78ddb0f0aed2eeefc9ab97e21ae&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Love He Destroyed, My New Power
After seven years together, I told my boyfriend, Jaxon, I was pregnant. I thought it was the beginning of our forever. Instead, I found him at my prenatal clinic, comforting his secret, pregnant wife. He called our life a lie, a "business arrangement." His family beat me, humiliated me, and locked me in a dusty attic with rats for a month, leaving me to starve while he took his wife to her appointments. He promised me a future, a family, but chose to protect her and abandon our child. I was just an inconvenience to be discarded. So when they finally dragged me to the hospital, I made a choice. I waited for him to arrive after the procedure, his face full of fake concern. He saw the blood-stained sheets and his face crumbled. "What... what have you done?" he stammered. I smiled, my voice as cold and empty as my womb. "I got rid of it, Jaxon. I aborted your baby."/0/85458/coverorgin.jpg?v=32a51cb261460caa916943df2505535a&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Fiancée's Fury, Sister's Shame
The California sun felt like a fresh start, a golden promise for my new life as an architect in LA, working alongside my successful older brother, David. But that promise shattered the moment my phone buzzed with an unknown number. "So you' re the one," a cold voice sneered, "The little sister who' s trying to sleep with her brother." My mind reeled. David, engaged? He never told me. And then this woman, Chloe, his fiancée, accused me of being a "homewrecker," her words laced with venom. The next morning, she escalated, posting a photo of David and me in our office' s company-wide chat, publicly branding me as someone with "no shame." "You' re not his 'sister.' You' re not related by blood at all," she broadcasted, twisting the truth of my adoption into a weapon, exposing our private family history to my new colleagues. I turned to David, my protector, expecting him to defend me. Instead, he simply messaged, "Sarah, don' t engage. Just ignore it. You' re making it worse." His inaction was a betrayal, a chilling realization that the brother I idolized was letting me be publicly humiliated, prioritizing "image" over my dignity. What kind of monster would weaponize family history? And why was David, my anchor, abandoning me to the storm? I knew then that this wasn't just a jealous fiancée; this was a battle, and my cherished brother was on the wrong side./1/106577/coverorgin.jpg?v=1271e78e30dc29d9a9daf6c4aebeee30&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Villainess Stepmother's Ruthless New Life
I woke up with a splitting headache and a pinstriped lawyer shoving a contract in my face, demanding I sign away my rights to the Sterling estate. My husband, the billionaire Arthur Sterling, had been missing for three months after a plane crash, and everyone assumed he was dead. The lawyer sneered, threatening to leak compromising photos of my "shopping trips" if I didn't accept a measly fifty-thousand-dollar settlement. That was when the horrifying reality hit me: I had transmigrated into the body of Gloria Peck, the gold-digging villainess of the novel *The Sterling Legacy*. In the original story, I signed the papers, abandoned Arthur's children, and ended up frozen to death on a park bench after the family's eldest son, Jones, grew up to destroy me. But my current reality was even more desperate-I discovered I had five million dollars in gambling debts and debt collectors who didn't take "no" for an answer. Signing that paper wasn't a fresh start; it was a death sentence. Jones, Arthur's fourteen-year-old son, sat in the corner of the office, watching me with a hatred so cold it felt like a physical weight on my skin. I realized that if I followed the script, I would die. If I played the victim, I would die. I was trapped between a predatory legal team, a vengeful stepson, and a mountain of debt that fifty thousand dollars couldn't even begin to touch. How could I survive in a world where I was the most hated woman in the city, with a bank account that held exactly five hundred dollars and a target on my back? I didn't pick up the pen to sign. Instead, I slammed it into the mahogany table, piercing the heart of the agreement. "This contract is garbage," I told the stunned lawyer. Just as I prepared to fight for my life, the office door swung open, and Arthur Sterling-the man the world thought was dead-walked back into his empire, his eyes locking onto mine with terrifying intensity. The script was officially broken, and I was just getting started./0/84363/coverorgin.jpg?v=98688aaa97e4b81475bf19ae096c6e2e&imageMogr2/format/webp)
His Penance, Her Peace: The Quiet Atonement
The day my son, Leo, was born, my $50,000 life savings, carefully scraped together since I aged out of foster care, vanished. My boyfriend, Ethan, Leo' s father, convinced me to transfer every penny for his "European residency," a supposed investment in our future. Hours after Leo' s birth, hormonal and exhausted, I foolishly gave him my nest egg, believing his promises of a brighter tomorrow for our new family. But then, Leo was diagnosed with a rare genetic disorder, needing immediate, experimental treatment costing hundreds of thousands. When I begged Ethan for the money back, his handsome face twisted with contempt, claiming it was "invested" and gone. He scoffed, accused me of trying to "trap him financially," then threw the few hundred dollars he had at me, humiliating me in front of our landlord. After our son tragically died in my arms in a public hospital, I found Ethan celebrating, buying an expensive sculpture with a wealthy old flame. That' s when I overheard the sickening truth: my love, my life, my son's existence, had all been a twisted, cruel bet to him. What kind of monster would gamble with a new mother' s love and a baby' s life? Just when I thought it couldn't get worse, he kicked me, slamming me against a table, sending Leo' s fragile ashes spilling across the floor. That very kick stole my ability to ever have another child, leaving me with nothing but the dust of my son and a searing rage. Broken but alive, I eventually built a new life, found true love, and against all odds, conceived a new child. But the real question is, what became of the man who took everything from me, and can true redemption ever be found after such monstrous betrayals?/0/99381/coverorgin.jpg?v=4c1db5d4348cfbabc8ed3379ce1ead79&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Secrets Of The Neglected Wife: Now Shine
My mother was dying, her last wish to see the man I'd secretly married three years ago. But as I frantically called his phone, which went straight to voicemail, he was busy marrying my childhood rival in a lavish ceremony right outside the hospital. He publicly denied knowing me, his wife of three years, the secret benefactor who built his entire tech empire from the ground up. To humiliate me further, he allowed his new bride to broadcast a video of my deepest, most private trauma to all their wedding guests, dismissing my pain as "gossip." My mother died heartbroken from his betrayal. But they made a fatal mistake. They thought I was just a poor, pathetic wife they could discard. They didn't know I was the anonymous, globally feared tech mogul they'd been trying to impress all along. And I just gave my second-in-command a single order: "Burn it all down."/0/83268/coverorgin.jpg?v=f9fc2adbbba67ab1da6feccff19f44f0&imageMogr2/format/webp)
When Your Home Isn't Safe
Thanksgiving Day in our brand-new, dream condo, and my wife Sarah and I were finally settling into our freshly renovated home. Everything felt perfect, a fresh start. But the holiday cheer vanished when an HOA email popped up: "Improperly parked vehicle." My car. In my own deeded parking spot. Then I saw the neighbor's post on Nextdoor, claiming my spot even though he had no right to it. The guy, Kevin, was instantly entitled and rude. The very next morning, my car had a deep, deliberate scratch running down the side, and the HOA cameras were "conveniently" offline for maintenance. This wasn't random; it was a brazen act of vandalism. Then Kevin's mother tried to physically block me from my own spot, followed by his father, who smashed my taillight with a sickening crunch. Even after police got involved, Kevin' s family staged a chaotic scene, and Kevin himself destroyed my phone. What started as a parking dispute quickly escalated into outright war: while we were away, my condo was intentionally flooded, and Sarah' s jewelry stolen. My home, violated. I stared at the water damage, a knot of cold fury twisting in my gut. How could a simple parking disagreement lead to such malice, such calculated destruction of our property and peace? The perpetrators were clear, yet the system seemed to turn a blind eye, allowing their escalating vendetta to spiral out of control. This wasn't merely about property anymore; it was about our safety, our sanity, and fighting back. With my influencer friend Mike, I decided to take this fight public. The gloves were off, and I vowed to expose every single one of their twisted acts, no matter the personal cost./0/43846/coverorgin.jpg?v=c819e02670655b4ea97f476287a484c2&imageMogr2/format/webp)
We Will Never Part Again
In a previous life, Maeve had loved an unworthy man unconditionally, but sadly, she met a tragic end, drowning in the sea. Reborn, she decided to live a completely different life, joyful and unburdened by commitments. It just so happened that the despicable woman who was her rival in love in her past life released a song in the hopes of becoming a pop star. Unfortunately for her, her wish would never come true. As soon as Maeve released her first song, she rose in popularity rapidly, topping the charts consistently. Every time the despicable woman put on a pitiful face and pretended to be the victim, Maeve would play along with her little act before finally giving her a sharp slap across the face. At the end of the day, Maeve's skills and talents were unparalleled. Learning from her mistakes in her previous life, she gradually climbed to the top. Decisive and ruthless as she was, she couldn’t help but be tender and gentle towards that man she once loved... "Darling, I’m ready! Come and join me!" She called to him. She was seductive and alluring. The man, unable to resist her charm, whispered to her, "Take the day off tomorrow because you won't be able to leave bed!"/1/104700/coverorgin.jpg?v=92160b9ef964864a04c7c5e9e0db61c5&imageMogr2/format/webp)
You Lost Me: The Genius Heiress's Comeback
I lay on the freezing bathroom floor, my life slipping away in crimson rivulets as I lost the baby Harrison claimed he wanted more than breath itself. In the next room, my husband was laughing into his phone, discussing party decorations with his mistress. When I finally dragged myself to the door to beg for help, he just stepped over me. "Call a doctor," he sighed, annoyed. "I have to go. Brooke's flight lands in an hour." Three days later, during a bank robbery, the gunmen held pistols to both our heads and gave Harrison a choice: save me, or save his mistress. Harrison didn't even blink. "Let the blonde go," he said, his voice void of emotion. "She's vital. Keep the wife. She's just insurance." I took a bullet because of him. But the true kill shot came when I woke up in the hospital. The family lawyer looked at me with pity and revealed the truth: Harrison never filed our marriage license. For three years, I wasn't his wife. I was just a prop. A clean face to front his estate while he laundered money. Harrison thought he had won when he drugged me and put me on a rigged boat to ship me away to an asylum. He watched from the dock as the vessel exploded into a fireball, believing his problem was incinerated. He thinks I'm dead. He thinks he's free to rule his empire with the woman who destroyed my life. But he forgot one thing: you can't kill a ghost. And I'm coming back to burn his world to ash./1/111114/coverorgin.jpg?v=f0bee29d0cdd7ea0f2b6a47e8fece257&imageMogr2/format/webp)
His Betrayal, My Reborn Heart
In my previous life, I poured my family's savings into Diego Torres. He was a scholarship student I mistook for a tech prodigy, and I helped him become a billionaire. His way of thanking me was conspiring with his first love, Kiana, to kill me in an explosion. My mistake cost me everything. But when I opened my eyes again, I found myself back in the campus cafe, years before my murder. There was still time to fix every mistake. Diego sat across from me, demanding a thirty-thousand-dollar monthly allowance for Kiana, or else he would refuse my funding. In that instant, I knew he had been reborn too./1/107516/coverorgin.jpg?v=a61f25f9f46354c60dab28aaed8e4403&imageMogr2/format/webp)
SOLD TO THE BILLIONAIRE MAFIA KING
Elena was never meant to choose her own fate. She was sold-not asked, not begged, just handed over to Lorenzo De Luca, the most feared man in the city. A billionaire. A mafia king. Ruthless, possessive, and merciless. To him, she is nothing more than a debt repaid... a possession to claim. But Elena is fragile, unloved, and wary of every touch... yet her heart and body betray her, drawn to the man she swore to hate. In a world where danger lurks in every shadow, secrets threaten to unravel everything, and betrayal waits behind every door, their bond grows-twisted, forbidden, irresistible. Elena must decide: survive the intoxicating power and obsession of the man who owns her, or surrender completely-and risk losing herself forever to the billionaire mafia king/1/102823/coverorgin.jpg?v=90bfbbe23f95a5850d2f751db2b7d42b&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Photographer's Deceptive Lens
My husband, Austen, was the handsome, stable anchor in my life as a fashion influencer. His one flaw? He was hilariously bad with a camera. Or so I thought, until a viral photo exposed him as Chiaroscuro, a legendary photographer who vanished years ago for his muse, Isolde. On our anniversary, while I was secretly pregnant, he abandoned me to save her comeback show. He called not to check on me, but to demand I ship him my $15,000 camera-a gift from him-for her use. "It's wasted on your little influencer shoots anyway," he said, his voice flat. His words hit me as I sat alone in a clinic, having just lost our baby. He hung up. The dial tone buzzed in the silent room. I wasn't just a placeholder; I was a tool. I looked down at my phone, where the number for my lawyer was already saved, and pressed call./0/90621/coverorgin.jpg?v=5432663ac0f93826f3e54fbd78f4a0ff&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Five Million Dollar Goodbye Kiss
I gave up my acceptance to MIT to support my boyfriend, Brayden Berg. After his family's tech empire collapsed and his parents died, I worked double shifts as a line cook, using my tuition money to help him get back on his feet. But the day he announced his new company's success, he stood on stage, kissed a high-society lawyer named Jesse Collins, and introduced her to the world as his partner. The humiliation was just beginning. At a party, Jesse deliberately spilled champagne all over me. Later, trapped in an elevator together, she hissed that I was a "charity case" just moments before the cables snapped. The crash shattered my leg. When a rescuer peered down from the emergency hatch, able to save only one of us at a time, I heard Brayden's frantic voice from above. "Save Jesse!" he screamed without a moment's hesitation. "Save her first!" In the hospital, he explained his choice by saying Jesse was "delicate," while I was "strong" and could handle it. Then, he had the audacity to beg me, his childhood friend, to donate my rare blood type to save her. He carried me to the donation room, and the moment the bag was full, he ran off with my blood to Jesse's side without a backward glance. Staring at the fresh needle mark on my bruised arm, I finally realized the boy I had saved was gone. It was time to save myself./0/84520/coverorgin.jpg?v=4c80d42fde9be9895bacb11bb7e98f27&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Stolen Canvas
The cheap paint fumes were the last thing I smelled, trapped in my icy attic room, a constant reminder of the art that had become my death. My body, ravaged by a cough, lay on a lumpy mattress, my vibrant, unsold canvases mocking me from the walls. My phone, clutched in a trembling hand, was my only window to the life I should have had, glowing with a live stream from a grand art gala. And there she was: Evelyn Hayes. My adoptive mother. My mentor. My destroyer. She stood on a brightly lit stage, elegant and poised. Behind her, a painting. My style. The style she' d once called "immature." Now, the art world called it "revolutionary," as the chyron flashed: "Evelyn Hayes's Masterpiece Sells for Record-Breaking $10 Million." A bitter, silent scream trapped in my chest, the phone slipped from my fingers. The world went dark. Then, a gasp for air. My body shot up, but the air was clean, fresh. The crippling cough gone. My hands smooth, strong. This wasn't my dying attic. It was my high school bedroom, six years in the past. I was alive. I was healthy. I was back. The realization hit me like a tidal wave. Evelyn hadn't just stolen my art; she had built her career on my destruction, leaving me to die alone. The pain, the betrayal, the memory of her smiling face on that stage - it all ignited a fierce, burning resolve. "Never again," I whispered, my voice trembling with a power I hadn't felt in years. "You will not destroy me again, Evelyn. This time, I will expose you for the fraud you are." The game had begun./0/38684/coverorgin.jpg?v=47347ca766e7a5181545a4338b3dbd9c&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Substitute Marriage: Falling For My Ugly Wife
"Love finds you in the strangest places." Marriage wasn't on Marcus's agenda. He was enjoying life as the most eligible bachelor until his family began to mount pressure on him. After a time, he had no choice but to get married to a woman he didn't even know. His close friend teased, "You lucky bastard! Your wife must be gorgeous." When Marcus thought of the woman who slept with a mask on in his bed, his blood boiled. What was gorgeous about her? Humph! "You had better stop it. One more word and I'll make her yours!" he cursed. Marcus thought he was going to be a miserable married man. However, he received a surprise when his marital life turned out to be the exact opposite. Curiosity killed those around him after some time. His friend asked again, "I know you don't like talking about your wife. But can you describe to me what exactly she looks like? Why does she always have a mask on?" This time, Marcus's lips curved into a smile. "My sweetheart is beautiful and adorable. Lower your gaze whenever you see her. If I catch you staring at her, I'll make you go blind." Everyone's jaw dropped when they heard that. They looked at him like he was crazy. One day, Marcus's wife suddenly packed her bag and declared, "I can't do this anymore. I've had enough of your humiliation. Please, give me a divorce!" This request hit Marcus like a bolt out of the blue. When he saw that she was being dead serious, he held onto her with both hands and begged, "Honey, please don't leave me. I promise to treat you better. If you want, I can give you the whole world. Stay with me!" And so, a new phase began for the couple./0/83425/coverorgin.jpg?v=9ea73ac7141600e3cadde7fa82c67aef&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Imposter Husband
My mother-in-law, Brenda, a vision of fragile piety, sat pregnant on my porch swing. Everyone saw a grieving widow; I saw a master manipulator. Then he arrived-the man who looked exactly like my husband, Mike, but wasn't. He defended Brenda's fake theatrics, grabbing my arm when I refused her water. Something inside me snapped. I slapped him. Brenda' s false shock turned the town against me, labeling me "unhinged." My imposter "husband" systematically destroyed my memories, even disassembling our baby' s crib. He called the sheriff, painting me a deranged threat. At a public ceremony honoring my real husband, Brenda feigned a fall, inducing premature labor. Amidst the horror, 'Mike' then accused me of infidelity, twisting my miscarriage into a tale of instability. The town condemned me, believing every word. I was the villain, the crazy wife; their judgment was a scorching fire. They thought they saw a monster. But their entire world was a carefully constructed lie. And I held the truth. "There is shame in this family," I declared, my voice cutting through their righteous fury, "but it's not mine." My methodical vengeance was about to dismantle everything./1/114556/coverorgin.jpg?v=750cda51b94b21869fa5f9574d166b3b&imageMogr2/format/webp)
From Frozen Betrayal To Fierce Love
The first sign I was going to die wasn't the blizzard. It wasn't the bone-deep cold. It was the look in my fiancé's eyes when he told me he had given my life's work-our only guarantee of survival-to another woman. "Kelsi was freezing," he said, as if I were being unreasonable. "You're the expert, you can handle it." He then took my satellite phone, shoved me into a hastily dug snow pit, and left me to die. His new girlfriend, Kelsi, appeared, wrapped snugly in my shimmering smart blanket. She smiled as she used my own ice axe to slash my suit, my last layer of protection against the storm. "Stop being so dramatic," he told me, his voice full of contempt as I lay there freezing to death. They thought they had taken everything. They thought they had won. But they didn't know about the secret emergency beacon I had stitched into my sleeve. And with my last ounce of strength, I activated it./0/23979/coverorgin.jpg?v=fa87bb735524cbe0ea28de38942460d3&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The city of Johannesburg
1. Tamar was a prostitute and had only survived on the street of Johannesburg 2. During one of her outing to her ,she Lodge with a man at a hotel, Claire. She soon found out that she was pregnant and opted for an abortion. 3. That night as Tamar slept after thinking of a way out to terminate the child or to nurse her inorder to use her to make money if she was a girl. Tamar decided to terminate the child the next day but on a second thought, she decided to sell out the child for some dollars and make something out of her own life. 4. As she slept off that night, she had a dream that turned her life around./1/103449/coverorgin.jpg?v=17df9add032cbf1a99c8c582416f6de7&imageMogr2/format/webp)
His Sacred Promise, My Stolen Dreams
My fiancé, Ethan, insisted we use our life savings-the money for our dream architectural firm-to buy a house for his widowed friend, Kiera. He called it a sacred promise. I called it betrayal. After weeks of fighting, I discovered the truth. He hadn't been asking for my permission; he had already emptied our joint account two months ago. A photo confirmed it: him and Kiera, toasting with champagne, celebrating the day he stole our future. He then had the nerve to ask me to design her new house for free. When I finally confronted him, he chose to believe her fake pregnancy and her staged fall, calling me a "monster" as he rushed her to the hospital. He didn't just take our money; he stole my voice and painted me as the villain in his story. So while he played the hero for her, I quietly canceled our wedding, sold our assets, and booked a one-way ticket to a new life. He thought he was breaking me, but he was setting me free./1/110958/coverorgin.jpg?v=286225d8d7b68cd8474032178ca36a7b&imageMogr2/format/webp)
