Modern Books for Women
Bestsellers Ongoing Completed
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His Family's Poison, Her Sweet Revenge
The sterile scent of a hospital clung to me, even in my own sun-drenched room. Today was the presentation, the day my life was supposed to begin. Instead, it ended. Memories, sharp and brutal, flooded back: me, confidently presenting my skyscraper design. Then, the fatal error: File Not Found. My mother, Eleanor, fussing over my desk the night before, "accidentally" deleting everything. My father, Richard, dismissing my tears, "Listen to your mother. She knows what's best." My brother, Liam, smirking, "A skyscraper isn' t as important as Mom, is it?" Later that night, Eleanor offered a thick, green smoothie. "A special health smoothie, just for you." I drank it, trusting her. Minutes later, the tightening throat, the hives, the desperate fight for air. Anaphylactic shock. I was severely allergic to kiwi, and the smoothie was full of it. As my vision tunneled, I saw my family. They weren't calling 911. They were comforting Eleanor, who sobbed into my father' s shoulder. Liam shook his head, "She' s always so dramatic." And then, nothing. Until now. Waking up here. I saw the date on my phone. It was Wednesday morning. The day of the presentation. Cold, hard clarity settled over me. They hadn't just sabotaged my dream; they' d tried to kill me to control me. And now, I was back. Back to build a new blueprint. A blueprint for their ruin./0/93288/coverorgin.jpg?v=9bcdbe900ee55be57c47818423f8940d&imageMogr2/format/webp)
A Marriage Built on Deception
In the fifth year of my marriage, at a cattle auction, I saw my husband with my cousin—a woman everyone believed had been dead for five years. She was holding their son. I quickly learned my entire marriage was a lie, a cover-up orchestrated by my husband and my own grandmother to protect the woman who had tried to murder me. I wasn't a wife. I was an alibi. On the day they planned to drug me so they could celebrate their son's birthday, I signed away every penny of the family fortune, filed for divorce, and disappeared./1/103300/coverorgin.jpg?v=506a9f5f99e207c39843d9722c1c0b19&imageMogr2/format/webp)
When His Love Became My Torture
For five years after an accident stole his memory, my husband Ethan treated me like a ghost. He flaunted his affair with his mistress, Kasey, while I endured their daily cruelty, hoping the man I loved would return. My escape was planned to the last detail, a contract that would give me back our gallery and my freedom. But they found out. Kasey framed me for hurting her children, then had them spray acid on my hands. Ethan, consumed by her lies, dragged me to a museum for his final, brutal act of punishment. He had my mouth, eyes, and ears sewn shut. Then he hung me upside down for the world to see. He thought he had broken me. But he didn't know about the hidden cameras. Or the powerful family I had kept secret. They left me for dead, but they only started a war./1/104708/coverorgin.jpg?v=b5268daf69a927074b80df8cf2dd76a5&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Discarded Wife Builds Her Own World
My husband' s mistress pushed me overboard while I was pregnant. I lost our baby and had an emergency hysterectomy, leaving me barren. When my husband finally visited the hospital, it wasn't to comfort me, but to tell me to get ready for a party. "You'll need your strength to face the cameras," he said, annoyed that I hadn't touched my food. His grandmother was even worse. She slapped me, calling me a "shameless hussy" for failing to keep my husband in line. "You failed to produce a male heir," she spat. "You're useless, Elisa. Utterly, completely useless!" They thought I was the same woman who would silently absorb their cruelty. But the woman who loved him died with our child. I was just a tool they were ready to discard. So I stopped her hand mid-air. "We're done," I said, pushing the divorce papers and a small voice recorder across the bed. "A man who lets his mistress murder his unborn child... that's not a good look for your 'legacy,' is it?"/1/107211/coverorgin.jpg?v=7ce6b6208e1c9d3d4c9a8f438feff0b4&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Trading A Fake Marriage For A Real Vow
Bryson once gave Helena his whole heart, yet betrayal followed when he wed another. He claimed her absence forced his hand, insisting the other woman was only a substitute. Helena refused to accept this false marriage or any more of his excuses. She gathered evidence, secured much of his fortune through court, then stunned everyone by marrying Bryson's own brother. Rumors whispered that Callum longed for someone out of reach, until one day, he posted a picture of intertwined hands, bands matching. On a trip, he introduced Helena as his beloved wife. When Helena wasn't around, one of his friends asked, "What about the girl you've loved for so many years?" Callum's gaze fell upon Helena's silhouette. "She stands right beside me."/0/82807/coverorgin.jpg?v=eaf9b641046d92e3f8ee4112fb7b4f9e&imageMogr2/format/webp)
His Golden Gamble
Ethan Cole, king of art authentication, wielded a legendary "Midas Touch." His sharp eye and impeccable reputation built an empire with his ambitious wife, Izzy Thorne, a titan of the New York art scene. Then, the unthinkable: a "lost masterwork" he vouched for, the Seraphini, was exposed as a masterful fake. His two-decade career shattered overnight. The ultimate blow came from his own home: Izzy, dismissing his claims of sabotage, stood by her slick protégé, Leo Vance, implying Ethan's 'rigidity' was to blame. The fallout was brutal. Ethan was systematically bankrupted, his office silenced. Years later, his gravely ill father and crumbling family business forced him back into the lion's den of the auction house. There, Izzy, with Leo by her side, publicly savaged him, outbidding him, then mockingly "gifting" him a worthless, grimy canvas. His drawing hand was 'accidentally' crushed. How could the woman he loved, his empire-building partner, be so utterly ruthless? Was this mere payback, or had deeper, sinister machinations been at play, orchestrated by the seemingly innocent Leo? Injured and stripped bare, the crushing weight of betrayal was unbearable. But Ethan Cole was no stranger to shadows. With his injured hand throbbing, his father's life on the line, he gripped his last hope: an ancient, filthy canvas from the auction's "unverified lots" no one else dared touch. He knew the greatest treasures hide in plain sight, waiting for the right touch. This was his desperate gamble, his last chance to save everything and unleash his legendary Midas Touch./1/102831/coverorgin.jpg?v=5ec6648d24c8eab6bf9f3b89dca4f77b&imageMogr2/format/webp)
My Destiny Found in Betrayal's Wake
On my 24th birthday, my boyfriend of five years, Jackson, threw me a surprise party. The surprise was his wedding to another woman, Campbell. He claimed she was dying of cancer. In front of everyone, he denied our entire relationship, calling me his "little sister." When I confronted him, his violent shove caused me to lose our unborn child. I lost my love, my baby, and my job, all for a lie. Because Campbell wasn't dying. Her cancer was fake. But as they tried to destroy me, a powerful man named Cole Smith stepped in. At a charity gala, with his help, I played the security footage for the entire room to see-the footage of him pushing me, of me bleeding on the office floor. I held up the proof of her fake illness. "There's your truth, Jackson," I said, as his world came crashing down./1/114564/coverorgin.jpg?v=6e71eed09c2b17b033e3c28312daf12e&imageMogr2/format/webp)
He Thought He Wrote My End
On the first anniversary of our reconciliation, I thought my tech mogul husband and I had finally turned a corner. Then I discovered our entire marriage was a spectator sport. It was a cruel, year-long revenge game orchestrated by him and his lover, and I was the punchline. For their amusement, I was poisoned with food contaminated with dog feces, publicly humiliated with a twenty-million-dollar auction scam, and beaten until my ribs broke by his family's private security. I endured it all, playing the part of the clueless, loving wife while they laughed about it in a group chat called "The Jillian Andrews Comedy Hour." But their grand finale was a step too far. I overheard him calmly planning to leave me to die in a remote cabin during a blizzard, a "tragic accident" that would finally set him free to be with his mistress. He thought he was writing the final chapter of my life. He didn't know I was about to use his murder plot as my own perfect escape. I faked my death, vanished into thin air, and left him to explain to the world how his beloved wife disappeared off the face of the earth./0/56213/coverorgin.jpg?v=99cb4ae600aee533d529b590f40c6385&imageMogr2/format/webp)
A Return To Love's Madness
When they met again, Jason cast aside his paranoia and pride, warmly embracing Chelsey. "Please, come back to me?" For three years, she had been his secretary by day and his companion by night. Chelsey had always complied with his requests, like an obedient pet. However, when Jason declared his plans to marry another, she chose to stop loving him and to let go. But life took unexpected turns. His unyielding pursuit, her pregnancy, and her mother's greed gradually pushed her to the brink. Eventually, she endured tremendous suffering. Five years later, when she returned, she was no longer the woman she once was. Yet he had spiraled into five years of chaos./1/113469/coverorgin.jpg?v=155df3d444debc4bebdc4c2f1a5ec300&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Reborn with 10 Billion to Conquer the Apocalypse
She has thirty days. Ten billion dollars. And a quantum space that can swallow anything. Kinsey Elliott died cold, starving, and betrayed—pushed into a frozen abyss by the uncle who stole her fortune. Then she woke up. Back in her penthouse. Back in her perfect body. Back with a silver mark on her wrist that lets her store entire warehouses of supplies in a dimension where time stands still. The world has thirty days until a global ice age freezes everything. Her family has thirty days to try to lock her away, steal her money, and have her killed. And Kinsey? She has thirty days to turn ten billion dollars into an invisible fortress—and burn every last one of them to the ground. She's not surviving the apocalypse. She's building it./1/115972/coverorgin.jpg?v=84d582529189e79e59a16abbbea5bdac&imageMogr2/format/webp)
General He is really miserable, got divorced by his wife.
For three years, I played the perfect, submissive housewife to billionaire Julian Harrison. But right after an intimate night together, he coldly threw a divorce agreement onto the bed. "Scarlett landed an hour ago. I need my single status restored to welcome her back." That same night, I ended up in the emergency room and discovered I was pregnant with twins. When Julian found out, he didn't show a shred of joy. Instead, he stormed into my hospital room, threw a blank check directly at my face, and ordered me to get rid of them. He accused me of using the babies as a sick game to trap his assets. Then, his ruthless lawyer kicked me out of our penthouse, confiscating the jewelry he gifted me and tossing my worn-out notebook onto the floor like garbage. Standing in the freezing rain, my heart completely died. I had swallowed my pride, managed his life, and cooked his meals to his exact standards for three years, only to be thrown away the second his first love returned. But he didn't know that the notebook his lawyer discarded contained the secret formulas of Aura Beauty, a billion-dollar empire I built in the shadows. I tore his check into pieces, blocked his number, and left in a Maybach sent by my associate. Logging into my global CEO database, I looked at his company's fragile stock chart with a predatory smile. The docile Mrs. Harrison died in the rain. It was time to crush his empire./0/99859/coverorgin.jpg?v=b0f26f7185884f8db84b2f4cc6462574&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Invisible Girlfriend's New Start
After three years of being the agreeable, invisible girlfriend to my tech CEO boyfriend, Edward, I finally left him. Then Brody Frazier, his charming rival, swept into my life, determined to use me to get under Edward's skin. But at a tech gala, Edward cornered me, publicly declaring his love and flashing a "promise ring" he claimed he'd bought for me weeks ago. He did this right after his high school crush, Jeannette, announced their engagement, and right before he accused me of humiliating him. He insisted his feelings for Jeannette were a "youthful fantasy" and that I was his "anchor," his "stability." He said he loved me. But I remembered the truth. I remembered the small, hand-carved wooden bird he'd once made. A gift he'd had me send to Jeannette years ago, along with a love note he dictated himself. And I knew his desperate confession wasn't love. It was damage control./0/81243/coverorgin.jpg?v=991a2663f97916fc853f6a9b7552f0f0&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Heiress They Left to Drown
My life was a perfectly curated display: a philanthropic heiress, a devoted husband, and annual galas that outwardly celebrated our unwavering love. But beneath the glittering facade, I stumbled upon a chilling truth: my charming husband Julian and my beautiful sister Liv were not just having a secret affair, but meticulously plotting to strip me of my family's fortune, revealing our entire marriage was a calculated lie, designed solely to gain control of my inherited shares. Julian had always prioritized Liv, abandoning me during my health crisis or fleeing to her side whenever she summoned him, yet nothing prepared me for the night my sister Liv maliciously shoved me into our estate' s ornamental pond. As I struggled to breathe, watching my heavy gown pull me under the shockingly cold water, I saw my husband, my father, and even my college sweetheart all swim past me without a glance, their sole focus on rescuing Liv, who theatrically thrashed and feigned distress in the shallow end. I was left to sink, utterly and completely abandoned. My entire life, it seemed, I' d been the overlooked second choice: my parents showered Liv with affection, my first love chose her vivacity over my quiet nature, and now my husband, the man who had promised unwavering devotion, had merely used me as a pawn for her ambition. How could every single person I ever trusted consistently choose her over me, again and again? As the dark water enveloped me, a strange, profound peace solidified my resolve: the suffocating, theatrical performance of my past life was finally over. I would burn down every painful lie, completely erase Ava Chen, and painstakingly sculpt a new identity, a new life, a true sanctuary where I was the main character, never just an afterthought in someone else's story./1/106586/coverorgin.jpg?v=83839155f17a0dcea4f71d786f4b8f80&imageMogr2/format/webp)
One Night With The Wrong Brother
I thought I was waking up in the arms of Arthur, the man I loved. But as the morning light hit the Hamptons estate, the man buttoning his cuffs by the window turned around with eyes like chips of ice. It was Augustus Riddle, Arthur’s cruel younger brother, and I had just spent the night whispering confessions of love into the wrong man's ear. The night I thought was a beautiful beginning turned into a devastating nightmare. Instead of comfort, Gus treated me like a stain on his expensive carpet, scribbling a check for "services rendered" before shoving me into a dark service corridor to hide my existence from his brother. "How much does it cost to buy your silence?" He sneered, before leaving me barefoot in a torrential downpour while he drove away in a luxury Cadillac. Four years later, I am a struggling actress in Los Angeles, working double shifts as a barista just to keep the lights on. My life was finally stable until my roommate dragged me to a high-end dinner to meet her new "influential" boyfriend. The man sitting at the table, looking more arrogant and lethal than ever, was Augustus. He spent the entire night humiliating me, calling me a pathetic amateur and a social climber in front of my only friends. When I fled into the rain and collapsed on the sidewalk, skinning my knee until I bled, he watched from his car. He saw me clutching a plastic baggie containing the taped-together pieces of that four-year-old check—the only proof of my shame. He looked at me like roadkill, rolled up his window, and drove off into the dark. I couldn't understand why he was doing this. Why did he hate me enough to crush me, yet remember that I couldn't handle the smell of cigarette smoke? Why did he leave me bleeding in the street, only to send expensive medical supplies and coffee to my door the very next morning? "I'm moving out." I told my roommates, realizing that Gus Riddle didn't just want to destroy me; he wanted to haunt me. I grabbed my suitcase and walked out with eighty dollars to my name, finally ready to disappear into the city before he could burn the rest of my life to the ground./1/116598/coverorgin.jpg?v=1c8d8bcd242d65a4c079c7ddfad94282&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Bound To The Ruthless Billionaire Proxy
Elsie stood completely alone in the pouring rain at her father's freshly dug grave. Before she could even mourn, a black SUV pulled up, and Roland Cantu shoved a marriage contract into her hands. He claimed her father had embezzled three billion dollars from the Carlisle group, leaving her with a massive debt. "Sign the marriage contract, and the debt is forgiven." When Elsie refused to marry a dying man, Roland threatened to instantly cut off her mother's life support and her own vital heart medication. Forced to sign, she was dragged to the Carlisle fortress, stripped of her clothes, scrubbed with harsh chemicals, and locked in a glass medical cage. Inside, she was guarded by Axel Stone, a ruthless proxy who treated her like a corporate assassin. When Elsie simply tried to give her dying husband a sip of water, Axel slapped the cup away and accused her of poisoning it. "Get on your knees and drink it." He violently forced her head toward the puddle on the cold floor, triggering a massive, near-fatal cardiac event. Even after she survived and proved her innocence, Axel still ordered her only warm meal thrown into the garbage disposal. Elsie didn't understand why her father was framed, or why she was trapped in this paranoid nightmare with a sadistic madman. But as she stared at the empty kitchen counter, her fear finally turned into burning anger. Since they desperately needed her alive to produce an heir and secure their trust fund, she would use their own leverage against them. She was going to demand a child through IVF, survive this prison, and tear this twisted family apart to clear her father's name./0/81869/coverorgin.jpg?v=75485ab9af5be60624d6c72cd65e2cd3&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Her Last Game
My daughter, Emily, lay brutally assaulted in a hospital bed, clinging to life. But the real nightmare began when my wife, Jessica, cold and unfeeling, told me the police found Emily' s blood on my jacket. The Assistant District Attorney I married betrayed me instantly, letting the police drag me away while she watched. She froze my assets, publicly shamed me, and twisted our shared love for Emily' s art into proof of my depravity. Driving home, a dashcam recording exposed her chilling plot with her ex-lover, Ethan: they orchestrated Emily' s attack to frame me, seize my brewery, and coldly deemed Emily's suffering a "small price." Even worse, I learned Jessica had been feeding him information for years, believing his lies that I had wronged her, making her a willing participant in the scheme to destroy me. How could the woman I loved, Emily's mother, be such a monster? The betrayal was a physical blow, choking me, drowning me in a profound sense of injustice and utter powerlessness. But after Ethan and Jessica left me for dead, a hospital call pierced the darkness: Emily was awake. And she had named her attacker./1/104396/coverorgin.jpg?v=804ff1dc2e692426404a54c8b4bd030a&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Surgeon's Five-Year Lie
For five years, my celebrated surgeon husband was my hero, my devoted caregiver through a brutal battle with cancer. I thought our love was a blessing. Then a different hospital revealed the truth: I was perfectly healthy. I overheard him confess to his assistant, Brianna. My illness, the dozens of surgeries, the constant pain-it was all a monstrous, calculated lie. They had kept me sick to keep me dependent. They even performed an unnecessary hysterectomy, stealing my ability to have children as a twisted "compensation" for his mistress's obsession. His final betrayal was bringing a pregnant Brianna into our home, expecting me to raise their child. He truly believed I was so broken I would just accept it. But he made one mistake. He forgot the love letter he signed before our wedding, a promise that if he ever betrayed me, I would be free. When he sent me to the market for his mistress, I walked out of that gilded cage and never looked back./0/85780/coverorgin.jpg?v=31f25ad39b0d70a992211aa64a1d7f13&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Coma, Betrayal, and Broken Hearts
The monotonous beeping was the first thing. Not the familiar sounds of my life-architectural blueprints or classical music. Then came the blinding glare and the crushing impact. I was on my way to Lily' s school play. When I opened my eyes, a nurse told me I was Mr. Johnson, that I' d been in a coma. My wife, Sarah, and daughter, Lily, were safe, she said, with a pity that chilled me. Ten years. A decade gone. My heart shattered as I searched a tablet for Sarah. She wasn' t the warm woman I knew, but CEO Sarah Miller, a tech titan, always pictured with Alex Chen, her "constant companion." I frantically searched for Lily, finding nothing. It was as if she' d vanished from her mother' s glossy new world. Ignoring hospital staff, I ripped out my IV. Weak and desperate, I fled. I found Lily on a street corner, a ghost of my seven-year-old girl, selling charcoal sketches. Thugs harassed her, a city official threatened to confiscate her work, and then Sarah' s sleek car pulled up. My wife looked at our daughter, not with warmth, but cold annoyance. "Lily, just stop. You' re hopeless." The word echoed, hitting Lily harder than any physical blow. Something inside me snapped. Ten years of helplessness erupted. I attacked the thugs, the official, protecting my daughter. Then, Lily collapsed. Back in a drab hospital, I called Sarah. Her assistant dismissed me: "Ms. Miller is in a very important board meeting." Later, a kind nurse revealed Lily paid for my care, sacrificing everything. My daughter, starving, while her CEO mother was too busy. When Lily visited, gaunt and tired, she tried to lie about an art class, but I knew. She was going back to work the streets for me. My wife was in a board meeting while our daughter gave up her life for mine. Raw guilt and rage consumed me. I vowed to get stronger, to save my daughter./0/95792/coverorgin.jpg?v=c96147618713fd53d3b50ae6f8dd9ac1&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The CEO Fired His Secret Heiress
I was the secret weapon who built my CEO's company from the ground up. But the moment he hired his new intern girlfriend, my life became a living hell. She publicly humiliated me, calling me a corporate whore. She sabotaged our biggest deal by projecting deepfaked porn of me onto the screen during the signing. Then, she smashed an award over my head, leaving me bleeding on the office floor. And the man I'd dedicated five years of my life to? He looked at my bleeding wound, then at his crying girlfriend, and believed her when she claimed I attacked her. "You're fired," he spat. He thought he was firing a disgraced employee. He had no idea he was firing Allie Valenzuela, the sole heiress to the very corporation that had just saved his company. My next call wasn't to a lawyer. It was to my father./1/119414/coverorgin.jpg?v=37bccf3afc762835f5fc982d0feb27d8&imageMogr2/format/webp)
