Modern Books for Women
Bestsellers Ongoing Completed
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Divorcing The Cold Billionaire After Baby Birth
Aria Miller was forced to marry billionaire Victor Sterling to pay for her dying grandmother's medical bills. She was six weeks pregnant after one accidental night. But Victor despised her, convinced she was a scheming gold digger who used her body as a bargaining chip. Right after signing the marriage papers at City Hall, he dumped her at a decaying, rat-infested apartment in Queens and drove away in his Rolls-Royce. He cut her off entirely, leaving her to scrub rotting floors and eat discounted groceries while pregnant. He expected her to break. When his grandmother forced him to stay over to keep up appearances, his team hauled in piles of luxury luggage. During a surprise video call from his grandmother, Victor pinned Aria to the wall, intimately stroking her hair. "Smile, or the nursing home stops getting checks," he whispered into her ear. But the second the screen went black, he shoved her away in absolute disgust, looking at her like she was a disease. Aria was suffocating. She never wanted his money, yet she was trapped in this nightmare, treated like a worthless parasite. When Victor smirked and threatened to leave her with nothing, the dam inside her finally broke. Aria didn't cry. Instead, she grabbed a raw, dripping egg and smashed it directly into the center of his bespoke midnight-blue suit. Staring into his shocked, murderous eyes, she made her terms clear. "The day this baby is born, I want a divorce."/1/113673/coverorgin.jpg?v=6546b1b30b4cfc511e9291a7e9960277&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Married To The Undercover Billionaire Boss
To escape my sister-in-law selling me off to a local thug, I married a complete stranger I met at City Hall. My new husband, Drake, claimed to be a broke Uber driver who could barely make rent. He even made me sign a brutal ten-page prenup just to ensure I wouldn't take his rusted, beat-up Ford sedan if we ever divorced. I thought I was just sharing a decaying Brooklyn apartment with a struggling man at the bottom of the ladder. But things quickly stopped making sense. When that local thug cornered me at a restaurant, my "weak" husband didn't cower. Instead, he dismantled three massive mobsters in ten seconds with the terrifying, fluid speed of an apex predator. "I used to be a human punching bag in an underground boxing gym to pay off debts." I believed his excuse, until his supposedly homeless grandfather showed up at our door in a moth-eaten sweater, begging to sleep on our lumpy sofa. Before going to sleep, the old man casually pressed a heavy, intricately engraved pocket watch into my hand as a wedding gift. He claimed it was a cheap flea market find that didn't even keep time. But the sheer weight of the solid rose gold and the flawless mechanical gears inside screamed otherwise. Why did a destitute driver have the aura of a man who controlled empires? And what kind of homeless old man casually hands over a priceless, museum-grade antique? I had no idea the "broke driver" sleeping on my floor was actually a ruthless billionaire CEO, and I had just walked straight into his trap./1/126651/coverorgin.jpg?v=d1f5a1ba48f44d45426f40bb57e8a07a&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Hunted By My Secret Billionaire Employer
I finally terminated my tutoring contract with Donovan Carlisle, the wealthy hockey captain I had never met. I even waived a six-figure settlement just to get my freedom back. To celebrate my new life, I went to a popular campus bar, only to be cornered by a group of aggressive, drunk football players. Desperate and trapped, I spotted a dangerous-looking stranger in a dim corner. I ran over, threw my arms around his neck, and kissed him hard to use him as a shield. Instead of pushing me away, the stranger played along. His icy blue eyes mocked me as he whispered a command to keep going. In my absolute panic to make the act convincing, I fumbled with his shirt buttons. When the threat finally left, I shoved him away. Overwhelmed with shame, I slapped fifty crumpled dollars on the table for his "trouble" and ran out into the cold night like a fugitive. I hid in my dorm room, terrified and humiliated. I couldn't understand why he chose to play along just to watch my pathetic show. I thought I had just offended a random, arrogant guy. But then my best friend dropped a bomb on me. "That guy you kissed? That's Donovan Carlisle." My blood ran cold. The stranger I had just forced myself on and insulted with cheap cash was the very employer I dumped this morning. And worst of all, he had just ordered his team to turn the entire university upside down to hunt me down./0/85446/coverorgin.jpg?v=bbe4deb43a4ca0b1779749fec90cac84&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Dark Side of Celebrity Love
The first sign of trouble wasn't a call or a whisper. It was a photograph. I was in my office, lights of downtown LA sprawling beneath me, when I saw it: my pop princess wife, Olivia Reed, wrapped around a notorious talent manager, Liam Stone. His hand was possessively splayed on her bare waist, his thumb stroking intimately. "It' s just for the cameras, Ethan," she' d said, dismissing my concern with a shrug when she finally came home hours later. But the image of his touch burned hotter than the city lights outside. Then came the anonymous message. Five words, a blank profile, and a grainy photo: Olivia and Liam, leaning in, their faces inches apart, his hand high on her thigh. This wasn't smoke and mirrors. This was raw, undeniable betrayal. When I confronted her, she sneered, "I'm suffocating. I'm married to a man so insecure, so boring, he can't handle his wife being successful." She accused me of sabotage, of jealousy, and then dropped the bombshell: "We need to talk about a divorce." My world crumbled. Everything I' d built, every memory in our home, tainted. But the devastation quickly hardened into a cold resolve. She wanted a war? She wanted to ruin me? Fine. Let her try./1/108482/coverorgin.jpg?v=c63bb9db7b2d738a179f697cd90244f3&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Contract Marriage: The CEO's Silent Shield
Aunt Lydia told me that if I didn't secure the loan shark Mr. Jareth tonight, I’d be sleeping on the street. I stood outside the brass doors of the restaurant, my lungs refusing to expand, my hands shaking so violently that my gray wool skirt blurred in my vision. I was supposed to sell my soul to a monster to pay off my family’s debts. But when I sat down at Table 12, I didn't find a man in a leather jacket smelling of stale beer. Instead, I found a man in a bespoke suit who smelled of cedarwood and cold winter air, a man who looked at me like a specimen under a microscope. "Sit down," he commanded, his voice a deep rumble that vibrated in my chest. Before I could realize I was at the wrong table, he had already signaled the staff to throw the real loan shark out into the street. Then, he slid a blank black card across the table and offered me a deal: a marriage of convenience to satisfy his board of directors in exchange for my total protection. I signed the contract and moved into a penthouse he claimed belonged to his "boss," trying to play the part of the quiet, broken wife. But the lies were too loud to ignore. He called a half-million-dollar bottle of wine a "Costco blend" and claimed his $4 million Patek Philippe watch was a cheap replica. He thought he was protecting a helpless, mute girl, but he had no idea who I really was. I didn't understand why this "manager" had the police commissioner on speed dial or why he was tracking my every move with hidden cameras. While he was busy playing the savior, I was secretly logging onto the dark web as "The Surgeon," the only medical genius capable of treating the chronic, agonizing migraines he kept hidden from the world. The truth finally exploded when the loan shark cornered us at my aunt’s estate. As I held a corkscrew to a killer’s throat with surgical precision, I saw the mask slip from my husband’s face. I realized then that I hadn't just married a businessman—I had married the most dangerous man in New York, and he was currently wiring thousands of dollars to me to save his life./1/118540/coverorgin.jpg?v=a1d615cda4d507e01618923203edf856&imageMogr2/format/webp)
His Neglected Wife Is A Genius Auctioneer
Chloe had just undergone surgery to remove her fallopian tube, but her billionaire husband, Julian, didn't show up at the hospital. Instead, his housekeeper called, ordering her to attend a business dinner. When she dragged her agonizing, stitched-up body back to their penthouse, Julian didn't ask if she was okay. He just threw a limitless black Amex card at her face, telling her to stop playing the victim and name her price. Things escalated when his seven-year-old daughter accidentally spilled scalding water on Chloe's hand. His ambitious assistant, Kara, immediately swooped in, screaming that Chloe had deliberately burned the child out of jealousy. Julian didn't even look at Chloe's blistering skin. He held his daughter, called Chloe a monster, and threatened to destroy her. "You wouldn't survive a day without the Carlisle name," he sneered. Looking at the child she had raised for five years and the husband she had sacrificed everything for, a chilling coldness seeped into Chloe's bones. She had abandoned her Ph.D. at Columbia and her status as a top Christie's auctioneer, only to become a disposable, unpaid nanny and a corporate accessory. She didn't cry or defend herself. She simply took off her five-carat diamond ring, threw the black card at the assistant's feet, and packed a single suitcase. When Julian saw her a week later, she was standing in the spotlight of the Met Gala, holding an auction gavel, ready to make him pay./0/86744/coverorgin.jpg?v=6f7904351cf083f541f9d57399d6565b&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Picking Up The Relationship Trash
"Olivia, we need to break up." I said the words quietly. We were sitting on the couch we' d picked out together two years ago. Instead of concern, she laughed, thinking it was a joke because she forgot almond milk. Then her phone buzzed. It was Liam. Again. "Can we not do this right now? It's Liam. He needs me." It was always Liam. On our anniversary, the night my grandmother died. He always had a crisis only Olivia could solve. He arrived less than twenty minutes later, looking pale and distressed. He saw me, and his voice, laced with fake vulnerability, faltered. "Olivia said you guys were having a talk. I can go if this is a bad time. I just… I had another panic attack." He looked at Olivia, playing the victim, making me the bad guy. I' d seen this a hundred times: the late-night calls, the fabricated emergencies. I felt a snap inside me. "You' re always having a panic attack, Liam," I blurted. "You strategically dismantle. You make sure you are always the priority." Liam recoiled, his face crumbling. Olivia' s face hardened, disappointment aimed squarely at me. "Noah, stop it. You know he struggles. How can you be so cruel?" She moved to Liam' s side, placing a protective arm around him. She was comforting him. From me. My heart dissolved. I was the outsider. "I' m tired of coming in second place to him. I' m tired of being the bad guy for wanting a partner, not a part-time caregiver for your friend." I grabbed my bag. As I walked out, Olivia' s voice, thick with disbelief, followed me. "You' re really leaving? Over this? You' re just going to throw everything away because you' re jealous?" I stopped but didn' t turn. "It was already thrown away, Liv. I' m just the one finally picking up the trash." I closed the door./1/103291/coverorgin.jpg?v=cfb5356b153b74949bab2cb5046d0cad&imageMogr2/format/webp)
From Workhorse To Queen: My Reign
For seven years, I was the secret weapon behind my fiancé Josh Palmer's political career. I was the ghostwriter, the strategist, the one who used my family's hidden resources to make him a star. On my way to our engagement party, a news alert flashed across my phone. Josh was on live TV, announcing his engagement to a famous anchor, Kassandra Dixon. When I confronted them, Kassandra mocked me, calling me a "useful workhorse" before her bodyguards beat me to the floor. But her true cruelty was finding my late mother's journal. She ripped it to shreds and ground the pieces into the marble with her stiletto. In that moment, staring at the tattered remains of my mother's memory, the naive girl who loved him died. They made a fatal mistake. They thought they had broken a powerless girl, but they had just awakened a queen. My name is Aurora Tyler, and my reign was just beginning./1/100371/coverorgin.jpg?v=708d2fc049b7617c419f75395de197ab&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Rising From His Ashes of Betrayal
Eleanor POV: My husband, Adrien, was my shield against the world, the only one who understood the trauma that haunted me after my family was murdered. I clung to him, my fierce loyalty a desperate attempt to keep the monsters at bay. Then he brought home Daphne, a quiet barista he called innocent. I saw the manipulation in her downcast eyes, but he saw only purity. His affection turned to violence. He threw me against a wall, his words cutting deeper than any blow. "You disgust me," he spat. He let her get pregnant, and when I lost our child in the chaos, he accused me of murder. "You killed my child!" he roared, his love replaced by a chilling hatred. He bound me, broke me, and left me for dead in a burning helicopter, choosing to save her instead. I was the monster, the madwoman, the one who deserved to be destroyed. How could the man who swore to protect me become my greatest tormentor? But I survived. After faking my death to escape his hell, I watched him mourn me with crocodile tears while building a new life with my replacement. Now, I'm back to reclaim my name, my fortune, and to make him understand what a real monster looks like./0/65655/coverorgin.jpg?v=f3421ab9cd92c9bb209515359c435991&imageMogr2/format/webp)
His Unwanted Wife, The World's Coveted Genius
Rumors said that Lucas married an unattractive woman with no background. In the three years they were together, he remained cold and distant to Belinda, who endured in silence. Her love for him forced her to sacrifice her self-worth and her dreams. When Lucas' true love reappeared, Belinda realized that their marriage was a sham from the start, a ploy to save another woman's life. She signed the divorce papers and left. Three years later, Belinda returned as a surgical prodigy and a maestro of the piano. Lost in regret, Lucas chased her in the rain and held her tightly. "You are mine, Belinda."/1/113998/coverorgin.jpg?v=8e96ce924f6dfabdf7b16e63ef712660&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Flash Marriage To My Mysterious Patient
I am the undisputed ice queen of the ER, a doctor whose life is built on absolute control. A month ago, I impulsively married a stranger to create a legal shield against my ex-mentor's betrayal. Our prenup had one strict rule: a fake marriage with zero interference in each other's lives. But tonight, my "husband on paper" was wheeled into my ER, unconscious, reeking of cheap whiskey, and suffering from a bleeding ulcer. To authorize his emergency surgery, I had to sign the consent form as his wife, detonating a gossip bomb among my colleagues. Worse, his overbearing family found out he was hospitalized. To stop his terrifying mother from flying in and exposing our sham marriage, I had to lean over his hospital bed and take a fake, loving couple's selfie. I didn't understand why this disciplined math professor was suddenly drinking himself to death, nor why my chest tightened when he looked at me with exhausted eyes and begged for homemade soup. My perfectly ordered, untouchable life was crumbling into a chaotic mess, and I was losing my grip on the narrative. "We should probably spend some time together beforehand. We could be roommates." To prepare for an unavoidable family dinner and a wedding, my stranger husband just asked me to move into his apartment. The ultimate uncontrolled variable has just crossed the line, and our fake marriage is about to become dangerously real./1/112376/coverorgin.jpg?v=18dfe2e4e21a113a47fd4b43f0633a2d&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Jilted At City Hall, Married A Zillionaire
I stood in front of New York City Hall in my vintage lace wedding dress, my heart pounding with a nervous joy. I was minutes away from marrying Bradford Sterling, a move I thought would finally help me reclaim my mother’s legacy from my family’s crumbling empire. But as I reached for his arm, he flinched. A black Lincoln Navigator screeched to the curb, and his mother, Victoria, stepped out, slamming a restructuring document against his chest. She didn't even look at me as she delivered the killing blow: my sister, Eden, had just seized every cent of my voting rights and family trust. "Marrying her is a net negative yield," Victoria said coldly. Bradford didn't fight for me; he didn't even blink. He simply pushed my hand away and adjusted his tie as if I were a junk bond he was ready to offload. Seconds later, my sister Eden arrived in a red Ferrari, wearing her own bridal gown, and stepped into my place by his side. I was standing on the pavement, humiliated in front of a crowd, while the man I loved for three years treated me like a failed transaction. My sister laughed in my face, calling me a "liability" while she stole my wedding and my life. The grief was instant, but the rage that followed was a white-hot rupture in my chest. I didn't just walk away; I slapped the life out of Bradford and dove into the first black SUV I saw, desperate to escape. I didn't check the plates, and I didn't see the man in the wheelchair sitting in the shadows of the backseat. I had just "carjacked" Jefferson Montgomery, the most dangerous billionaire in the city. To save him from a parole violation during a sudden police raid, I agreed to a fake marriage that very night. They wanted to treat me like a negative asset? Fine. They have no idea that they just handed a world-class hacker the keys to the Montgomery fortune, and I’m going to liquidate them all./1/116594/coverorgin.jpg?v=2810bd4b25ff5a32cbbbe6ee89abf6a2&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Bound By The Tycoon's Dark Love
Chloe Sullivan finally thought she had escaped her high school nightmare. She was a successful Manhattan corporate lawyer, celebrating a massive case win. But the lounge lights flickered, and there he was. Axel Sinclair, the billionaire who had relentlessly controlled her ten years ago. He hadn't just found her; he had secretly bought her apartment building just to ambush her in her own hallway. The nightmare escalated instantly. The police refused to help, terrified of the Sinclair name. He cornered her at work, forcing her law firm to make her his personal counsel by threatening to destroy her colleagues' careers. He tracked her phone, monitored every bite of food she ate, and even bought entire restaurants just to control her diet. When the stress made her physically collapse, his bodyguards threw her into an armored car equipped with military signal jammers. "Your life is mine. I don't give you permission to die." Ten years of running, studying, and building an independent life, all shattered in a matter of days. How could the American justice system she dedicated her life to be so utterly useless against one man's capital? Why was he so sickeningly obsessed with her that he would manipulate all of New York just to cage her? As she woke up in a private hospital bed, heavily sedated and physically trapped in Axel's arms, Chloe realized a terrifying truth. He was changing his tactics, wrapping his violent madness in a suffocatingly gentle package. The physical hunt was over, but her desperate war for survival had just begun./0/85447/coverorgin.jpg?v=49d5bddfa2dea0950c7f44bf0d3a6e3e&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Revenge Wears a Soft Smile
The morning sun streamed into my penthouse, just like any other day. My fiancé, Liam, walked in with coffee and a croissant, his perfect smile radiating devotion. But the world had been dark just moments before, stained with the taste of blood and the memory of his smiling face as I lay dying on the cold floor of an institution. Now, it was two years before that horrific end. Two years before he destroyed everything and had me committed to a mental asylum. The last thing I remembered was his betrayal, his cruel laughter as my life, my company, and my sanity were systematically stripped away for his ambition. I watched him now, playing the part of the loving partner, reminiscing about the "Project Titan" software that was once my life' s work, the very foundation he would steal and rebrand as his own. He told me I was working too hard, that he would "take the pressure off." It was the same speech, the same insidious opening move he' d used before. A practiced performance that had once fooled me completely. How could I have been so blind, so naive, to open my heart and my world to such a snake? The memories of his lies, his manipulation, his ultimate act of sending me to an early grave, burned through me. But this time, the pain was fuel, not weakness. My smile might have been soft, but inside, a cold certainty settled deep in my bones. This wasn't a dream. It was a do-over. He thought he had won. He thought this was the start of everything for him. He was right. It was the start of his end. And I was going to enjoy every second of it./1/105563/coverorgin.jpg?v=108423327d9ed57fdeb862ecefe1c837&imageMogr2/format/webp)
My Precious Angel Turned Out To Be Deadlier Than Sin
In a strange country and on the edge of hopelessness, the trapped young woman was swept up in a theatrical rescue by a rich, ruthless man. He dropped twenty billion to pry her from a devil's grip, kept her near like a prized little pet, and even gave her the name Malinda. To everyone else, Malinda looked savage and merciless, her name alone making people flinch. Yet to Charlie, she was a fragile, sweet thing he adored. When her real identities surfaced, they learned she was a miracle healer, an elite assassin, and heir to a shadowed clan. The onlookers shuddered. Fragile and sweet? For real?/0/86745/coverorgin.jpg?v=848f0ca9a0bf7ef091251d1ed9cc46ac&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Wife I Refused to Save
My wife was dying, and I refused to save her. That's what everyone in the hospital believed, and what the headlines would scream. The hospital called; Sarah, my wife, was in critical condition after a severe car accident, needing a specialized, uninsured procedure costing half a million dollars. I said no. The word hung heavy in the air. This wasn't just Sarah's life; it was a choice between her, and the future of my company and hundreds of employees. My terrified in-laws pleaded, "You're comparing your company to your wife's life? To the mother of your child?" My six-year-old daughter, Lily, tugged at my pants, her innocent eyes filled with tears. "Daddy? Is Mommy going to die?" I told her I had to protect the company for our future, a necessary cruelty. My mother-in-law shrieked accusations, calling me a monster, flinging accusations of how Sarah sacrificed everything for me. The crowd gathered, their judgment a palpable weight. They whispered, "He won't pay to save his own wife. What a scumbag." A part of me smiled behind my mask of indifference. Let them judge. They were watching the wrong movie, completely unaware of the real plot. Then, my daughter held out her pink piggy bank, offering all she had. "Daddy, I have money. You can use my money to save Mommy." I knew this was the part I dreaded most, the collateral damage of a wicked plan. This entire tragic drama was meticulously orchestrated, but not by me. And I was about to expose every single one of them./0/75065/coverorgin.jpg?v=66b37eb8b1c7502e6e58caeab2c07925&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Shadows In The Fire
The past and present are on a collision course, when the fates of two women, born hundreds of years apart, intertwine in a story of magic and the power of love... In the present, Faye Bennet, haunted by dreams of a woman burning at the stake, returns to the village of her childhood, to seek answers and escape an abusive marriage. Unbeknownst to her, her return will awaken the vengeance of an evil, hundreds of years old and she will have to face the truth buried deep in her soul. 230 years earlier, Mathilda, mother, wife and witch, fights to protect her coven and her young daughter from a demonic entity, parading as a warrior of God and in doing so, puts her own life at risk. How far will she go to protect the ones that she loves? Little does either Faye or Mathilda know, but their stories will entwine through the threads of time, sending both of them hurtling towards danger and perhaps a chance to undo an ancient evil, once and for all./1/110430/coverorgin.jpg?v=ef36fbab463dc1963f13c2b7abdcf11a&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Legendary Valkyrie Awakens: I'm Their Eternal Regret
Gemma once ruled battlefields as a legendary warrior, the kind of woman who made the world kneel. For the man she loved, she erased her memories, hid her name, and became Brendan's quiet, forgotten wife. All she received was his cold disgust, her sister's vicious lies, and her family's merciless abuse. When she lay dying, the seal on her memories finally broke. The warrior the world feared came back. Leaders called. Armies welcomed her home. Brendan collapsed in the rain, pleading wildly. Gemma sneered and crushed her ring. Then Rhys, the youngest and most brilliant commander alive, stepped forward. "She's mine! Who dares touch my woman?"/0/85772/coverorgin.jpg?v=736295c50c988f4ed9763bf28e5e8a84&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Prophet Cop's Treachery
I announced my retirement, and the whole SWAT team erupted in celebration. They popped champagne, hoisted me onto their shoulders, cheering. Only one person wasn' t celebrating: Ethan, my rising star colleague, pushing through the crowd, face pale, eyes desperate. He was searching for me. The media swarmed, asking how he felt about "Prophet Cop" Alex retiring. He forced a smile, "Captain Alex is a legend. We'll all miss him. He taught me everything I know." Lies. All of it. Because this wasn't the first time. In my previous life, a decorated SWAT leader, my career was flawless until Ethan, with his "danger prediction," arrived. He' d sense hidden bombs, get hunches about suspects' locations, always right. He became the "Prophet Cop." I became the joke. The team mocked me; the public called me incompetent. My fiancée, Sarah, also my second-in-command, had stopped me on our final mission. "Alex, wait! Ethan says it's too dangerous for you to go first." As I hesitated, she shoved me. I tumbled over the cliff edge, the last thing I saw was her cold face, standing beside Ethan. They didn't save me. Then, darkness. And I woke up in my own bed, phone buzzing with a message about a hostage rescue operation. The same day. The day I fell. I had a second chance. I remembered this day, the beginning of the end, when Ethan publicly overshadowed me. I wouldn't let it happen again. "Gear up," I ordered. "We're changing the route." But as we screeched to a halt, the warehouse was already surrounded. By the Narcotics Unit. And standing there, cuffing the last suspects, was Ethan. "What the hell?" Miller muttered. "How did they get here so fast?" I remembered this exact scene: We arrived late, a hostage died, and I was blamed. Sarah accused me of incompetence, Director Thompson, my mentor, backed her. My career was ruined. I stood there, watching Ethan soak up the glory, and made a vow. This time, history would not repeat itself./0/81879/coverorgin.jpg?v=274aad74c7b0d1e4bf6d26e8e150fccc&imageMogr2/format/webp)
