Modern Books for Women
Bestsellers Ongoing Completed
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Once A Useless Son-In-Law
"Laila. It was not about money. Remember our love." "Something more than love has come up, sign the divorce paper." David was once her Romeo, Laila, his Juliet until family members put a knife in what held them together. But none of them knew there would be a second chance. Would Laila act rashly again because more enticing things are on offer Would David be such a nice guy to forget?/0/82863/coverorgin.jpg?v=abc2f1985fdc84f1ad4952c5014431cb&imageMogr2/format/webp)
He Murdered Our Son, I Faked My Death
A perfect afternoon shattered in an instant, taking my five-year-old son, Leo, who was skipping happily by my side. I was critically injured, rushed into surgery, my world already in pieces. But a strange genetic immunity to anesthetics meant I woke up. And I heard everything. My husband, Mark, calm and cold, told the doctor, "Remove her uterus. Make sure she can't have any more children." Then, a phone call. "The kid is handled," he muttered. "Payment is on its way." Leo wasn't an accident. He was "handled." My own husband had our son murdered, and was making me barren to clear obstacles for his other family – a mistress and the teenage son he' d hidden for years. Every shared moment, every memory, a calculated lie. My son' s short life, reduced to an inconvenience to be erased. At Leo's funeral, Mark, his secret family, and his mother celebrated, flaunting their wealth. His other son, Brody, deliberately kicked Leo's scattered ashes, sneering, "Guess he's really scattered now." The depths of their depravity turned my raw grief into a cold, unbreakable resolve. They thought me broken, unstable, weak. They had no idea that beneath my feigned unconsciousness, a different battle had just begun. I faked my own death, but my meticulous justice was just beginning./0/81241/coverorgin.jpg?v=9dd1925eed44a107dbf7f230bb36dcf3&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Ballerina's Broken Steps
Ava Miller, a twenty-one-year-old ballerina, had loved her step-brother Ethan Hayes since she was fifteen. For six years, their passionate, secret affair was her entire world, filled with whispered promises of Europe and forever. She believed he was her soulmate, the king to her queen in their private realm. But after a horrific car accident shattered her legs, the truth shattered her heart even more profoundly. From her hospital bed, she overheard Ethan, the man she adored, calmly admitting he orchestrated the crash. He sneered, revealing their entire relationship was a meticulously planned revenge plot against her mother. He wanted to destroy her dancing career and publicly humiliate her, calling her a "gold-digger's daughter." Her dreams, her body, and every memory of their stolen moments were reduced to a tool in his cruel game. Even as he feigned devastation and vowed to care for her, her world crumbled into excruciating pain and utter betrayal. He later brought his childhood love, Chloe Vanderbilt, into their home, showcasing his true affections right before Ava's eyes. He then abandoned Ava, leaving her to die, not once, but twice. Six years of her youth, her devotion, her very self, were all a lie, a twisted performance for his twisted revenge. How could the man she loved so deeply harbor such venomous hatred? The raw agony of his betrayal was a physical ache, eclipsing even her broken bones. But as her mother offered a sliver of hope for recovery in Vail, a fierce, cold determination ignited within Ava. She vowed to heal, escape, and make him pay for every tear, every broken bone, and every beautiful, shattered lie. Her revenge would be swift, public, and far more devastating than anything Ethan could have imagined./0/46525/coverorgin.jpg?v=2699aad76e56a080dfdf162c01da3d05&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Boss Lady: My Ex-husband Wants Me Back
Everyone said Selena was a leech who wanted to suck Kenneth dry, and Kenneth was of the same opinion. Selena fought to make her marriage work. But after Kenneth hurt her countless times, she finally reached her breaking point. She slapped a divorce agreement in his face and declared, "I'm done with this marriage. Split the wealth and let's go our separate ways!" Kenneth was more than happy to sign it. He thought, "Good riddance to bad rubbish!" Once she became single, Selena put her newfound wealth to good use. She invested in many businesses and built a strong empire in just a few years. Money knew her name, and so did many handsome men. They flocked around her like flies. Kenneth could hardly believe his eyes. How did that submissive wife of his turn into a boss lady whom many people revered? Soon, he began to pester her again. This didn't go down well with Selena at all. When he cornered her one day, she blasted him. "Are you out of your damn mind, Kenneth?" His unexpected response left her stunned. "Yes, I'm crazy. Let's get married again. We should have a kid together and merge our empires. When I pass away, all my riches will be yours."/1/104926/coverorgin.jpg?v=fe09b9380a178076cb81274b95c1c124&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Too Late, Doctor: I'm The One Who's Out Of Reach Now
Leanna's doctor for the lump was Shane-her first love. Ten years ago, his friends had mocked her as the "fat, ugly girl." She'd scrimped to gift him a violin, only to see him toss it away. "A cheap violin? I've got better at home. If you like it, take one." She remade herself, shed the weight, and changed her name. Their reunion blindsided her, but he snapped first. "Leanna, where do you think you're going?" She had a fiancé and was planning a wedding. She smiled. "Toying with me-now you're serious?" He bowed. "Always. I want you for life." He crowded her against his desk, voice rough. "Leave him. You belong with me."/0/86757/coverorgin.jpg?v=02a77112d295be63187c9fe17534ee17&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Betrayal's Ashes: A Love Destroyed
The terminal air was thick with the smell of my ruined life. My family archives, centuries of our legacy, were buried under a rich man' s playground, reduced to landfill by my own wife, Chloe. Then my phone buzzed, showing a picture of Chloe, beaming, beside her first love, Liam, in a hospital bed. The headline screamed about a "groundbreaking transplant." They didn't mention the tissue came from our seven-month-old, unborn son, induced early, sacrificed "for Liam." Chloe' s words, cold as ice, still haunted me while I tried to process that our son "never had a chance." Now, she and Liam were enjoying their twisted fairy-tale, while I was left with nothing but ashes and betrayal. My mother, the last shred of my family, became her next target. Used as leverage, she was pushed to her death, adding another layer to my agonizing loss. Why had my life become this twisted nightmare? Why couldn't I see the monster behind Chloe's beautiful mask? I was a fool, a pawn in her vengeful game against her own family, a convenient shield until I was no longer needed. I was trapped, but I wouldn't break. I would expose her. I would fight back./0/83837/coverorgin.jpg?v=41ed758ccf4132c8c9c6c2741080e73c&imageMogr2/format/webp)
A Steel Mill Daughter's Vengeance
The doorbell rang, a cheerful chime that felt utterly out of place, ushering in my mother-in-law, Eleanor, unannounced. Her unusual warmth and compliments were a warning, a performance leading up to her real ask. Then, over dessert, she dropped the bombshell: a request for a $250,000 "loan" from my disabled father' s settlement to fund my brother-in-law' s extravagant wedding. My father's money was for his life-long medical care, sacrificed from a lifetime in the steel mills. I refused, unleashing years of suppressed anger against her family' s disdain for my working-class roots. But the true betrayal came later, a phone call from a real estate agent asking to schedule a viewing for my house, which my husband, Kevin, had secretly listed for sale. He was planning to liquidate our home, our future, to fund his family' s delusional prestige. The shock, the raw devastation of his betrayal, quickly morphed into a cold, precise fury. He thought I was a naïve, hardworking girl he could easily manipulate. He had no idea I was about to weaponize a secret I had meticulously guarded for our entire marriage: his infertility. I decided, then and there, he would learn what it truly meant to lose everything./0/85784/coverorgin.jpg?v=f57b21a4e5f374843f101cf1e9719838&imageMogr2/format/webp)
A Wife's Quiet Devastation
My husband, Mark, swore he' d never betray me. After three years of his relentless pursuit, promising a world where my work was respected, I believed him. Then, a routine check of our shared finances revealed recurring, substantial transfers to a secluded suburban home I' d never heard of. I drove there myself, my heart pounding at the sight of his second car in the driveway, the one always "at the repair shop." Chloe, Mark' s distant cousin, opened the door, her panic palpable, and behind her, two small children, twins, peeked out with Mark' s eyes. Just then, Mark' s car pulled in, and his smile vanished when he saw me, followed by his parents, beaming, cooing over the toddlers. He dropped to his knees, begging, "Those aren' t my kids. I swear they aren' t." He spun a tale of Chloe' s assault and his noble act of protection, a story Chloe tearfully corroborated, then added, "Please, let me stay." As she moved, I saw it-a clear, undeniable pregnant belly, and before I could ask who this father was, she shrieked, pulling a paring knife to her throat, "Don' t ask! I can' t take it! I' ll kill myself!" Mark' s parents shot me dirty looks, comforting a sobbing Chloe, their unified front of lies cornering me. I gave a stiff nod, allowing this charade, this invasion, into my home. But in that moment, something inside me broke. He didn' t buy himself more time; he' d only started the clock on his own destruction./0/39388/coverorgin.jpg?v=577f3c30b5c194d3127a7068a5bf8a09&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Twins love
Huh?" Bella got a bit confused. "You asked a question, I answered it, you are welcome" Mia pointed her index fingers upwards and bent it towards herself. "Oh, it was a rhetorical question." Mia looked down in disappointment after she noticed the way Grace and Juliet stared at her. "I guess I will leave you girls to handle your own problems. Bye Mia" Bella waved Mia bye. "Bye" innocent Mia replied. "Seriously Mia, can't you tell the difference between when you are supposed to talk and when you aren't"/1/109469/coverorgin.jpg?v=08db7bef4d8d776458c9727c3cf6315c&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Secretly His: May The Best Man Dare To Kiss The Bride!
For ten years, Melanie and Gabriel looked like a fairy tale couple. People envied how he "cherished" her-no one saw the other woman on the side. When the affair surfaced, Melanie slid divorce papers across the table. "Gabriel, you don't deserve my love anymore." She walked away, unaware Rhett had watched her for eleven years. He'd been best man at her wedding, grinning while jealousy chewed him raw. After the split, Melanie buried herself in work and went global. Gabriel found her in his best friend's arms, his gaze burning with fury. "Was it him? Is he the reason you left me?" Rhett stepped in front of her. "You never deserved her. She was meant to be mine."/0/84811/coverorgin.jpg?v=3590c74f4d18c87bd76cfc8c9ad87d13&imageMogr2/format/webp)
A Telepath's Accidental Heroism
The forest' s quiet shattered as a bleeding FBI agent burst through my cabin door, collapsing at my feet. My perfectly normal afternoon nap was over, replaced by the immediate, terrifying certainty that trouble had found our isolated home. Ben Carter, handsome even as he bled out, was shot, his partner dead, and he was tangled in a massive counterfeiting ring leading straight to Senator Thompson. My stomach dropped – this was the kind of mess my sheriff dad always warned against. But then, as he gasped for help, a deeper dread set in: he heard my unspeakable thoughts. He heard everything I knew about him, about Thompson, about the danger. My father arrived, intervening with Thompson's thugs, but not before he too picked up on my mental broadcasts, his face paling as he realized the depth of the conspiracy I'd unwittingly revealed. Our quiet life was over, replaced by federal agents, corrupt senators, and a constant, terrifying loss of privacy over my own mind. How could I possibly live like this? My ability, usually just a nuisance, had now put us all in mortal danger, linking us irrevocably to a corrupt politician who wanted Ben dead. This wasn't some fantasy hero journey; it was an exhausting, terrifying invasion of my every private thought, broadcasting them to everyone around me. Yet, as Thompson' s people sped away and Ben lay bleeding on our rug, a terrifying question formed in my mind: if my thoughts were this loud, could they also be my weapon?/0/92598/coverorgin.jpg?v=5c5ed232fc631ac4a5e49e1bc9c893da&imageMogr2/format/webp)
I Made Them Pay
On our fifth wedding anniversary, my husband compared me to my best friend. He used to nitpick everything about Hailee Baxter, but that day, he told me to learn from her. "You two grew up together. How is there such a huge gap between you? Grow your hair out, wear dresses more often, maybe spritz on some perfume. You can manage that, right? You're my wife. Don't embarrass me in public." I clutched my faded shirt, making sure it didn't carry the smoky smell of the barbecue I'd been grilling for years. I shot back, "What, you've got a thing for her now?"/1/114985/coverorgin.jpg?v=952b1988003275359db350a685b31754&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Genius Doctor's Perfect Fake Death
To escape my psychopathic, controlling lover, I faked my death in a Syrian war zone. Thirty-seven reconstructive surgeries later, the terrified girl he kept locked in a basement was gone. I returned to New York as an untouchable neurosurgeon, Dr. Alivia Clay. I only came back to save his grandfather—the one man who helped me escape. I thought my flawless new face was the perfect armor. But the moment Collis Duncan saw me, he cornered me against the hospital wall. He didn't recognize my face, but he recognized my panic. He trapped me in his arms, inhaling the faint scent of vanilla and orange blossom on my skin. "You smell exactly like a ghost I used to know," he whispered. Worse, a traumatized, mute little boy with Collis's exact gray eyes stumbled into me in the hallway. The boy clutched my white coat and handed me a flashcard with a crude drawing of a woman. "Mama." My blood turned to ice. Five years ago, I was told my newborn baby burned to ashes in that medical tent. How could this boy be alive? Why did Collis have my son while I mourned a pile of dust? Now, Collis is ordering a microscopic background check, desperate to tear my fake life to the ground and cage me again. But I'm not running anymore. Once I finish this surgery, I'm taking my son back./1/106225/coverorgin.jpg?v=70a81998e6fd0370e733de999f1d8d28&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Day I Caught Him Cheating, I Married Another
I walked into my apartment dripping wet from the rain, only to hear a guttural moan coming from the bedroom. I told myself it was just the TV, but my shaking hands could barely fit the key into the lock. When the door swung open, I saw a pair of red stilettos on the floor and my fiancé's favorite silk tie discarded like trash. I pushed the bedroom door open to find Javon in our bed with another woman, the sheets I had just washed two days ago tangled around them. Instead of apologizing, Javon looked at me with a sneer and barked, "You don't know how to knock?" He claimed he paid the bills, even though I worked double shifts just to keep the lights on while he chased a promotion he'd never get. When I slapped him, he didn't show remorse-he called me a "stupid bitch" and lunged at me with a look of pure malice. My life was a total wreck; my fiancé was a cheater, and my grandmother was about to be kicked out of her nursing home because I was forty dollars short of the payment. I felt like I was falling off a cliff with no one to catch me. Why was the man I loved treating me like a cockroach in my own home? Just as Javon moved to strike me, a shadow fell over the room. A man in an expensive black trench coat stood in the doorway, his presence sucking the oxygen out of the room. It was Carmine Wilkinson, a man I had never met but whose terrifying calm made my heart stop. He didn't look at the trash on the bed; he only looked at me. He handed me a monogrammed handkerchief and asked one simple, brutal question. "Do you want revenge?" I nodded, desperate for any lifeline in the middle of my imploding world. He didn't offer me a shoulder to cry on; he looked me in the eye and gave me an ultimatum that would change my life forever. "Good. Get your ID. We're going to City Hall."/1/113363/coverorgin.jpg?v=6fd08238ff0d2e58b753eabdf64ed992&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Love's Betrayal, A Cruel Game
Eighteen months later, I would watch the man I loved sentenced to twelve years in federal prison. Fourteen counts. Fourteen times the word "guilty" echoed through a packed courtroom. But on Christmas Eve, I didn't know any of that was coming. On Christmas Eve, I was still the woman who believed in him. This is the story of how I stopped./0/97465/coverorgin.jpg?v=c44b67b8937ee7a24c7b40a15378f1be&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Bound By Vows, Sealed In Love
After a year apart, Iris caught her husband, Caden, in what looked like an affair and made up her mind to file for divorce. Caden pinned her to the wall, his breath warm, his tone lazy and cold. "Divorce? Fine. But didn't we agree to have a child? Give me one, then we're done-assuming you can keep me interested long enough to want one. Until then, don't count on it." And so began her desperate, humiliating journey to get pregnant-not out of love, but for freedom. Later, the man who never begged cracked first, voice wrecked with tears. "Forget the kid. Just don't leave me."/0/17975/coverorgin.jpg?v=4205b5ac7804bc65c94459aa8705509f&imageMogr2/format/webp)
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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./0/85461/coverorgin.jpg?v=138268116a3cff3fa3f17f045d5fe2ba&imageMogr2/format/webp)
His Threat, Her Silent Strength
The order confirmation email glowed on my phone, a beacon of pride for Emily, my sister and the first in our family to graduate college. This custom gown wasn't just fabric; it was a symbol of her extraordinary achievement, bought with my hard-earned money. An hour later, a message from "Mark\'s Master Gowns" shattered that peace: "Your address is flagged as a high-risk area. We require an additional $50 insurance fee." Then, a venomous follow-up: "So you admit it. You\'re trying to scam me. I know your type. You order expensive stuff, then claim it never arrived to get it for free." My attempts to de-escalate, to explain I was a social worker, were met with relentless, ugly insults. He canceled my order, kept my money, and then called, his voice a snarl. "Is this the scammer, Sarah Miller?" My heart hammered. "You have my money. You haven\'t sent my product. That makes you a thief." His threat hung heavy in the air: "You don\'t know who you\'re messing with. I have your address. I know where you live. Maybe I should pay you a little visit and we can sort this out in person." He actually hung up. I stood there, stunned, believing it was over. I was wrong. The next morning, my face, labeled "WARNING: SCAM ARTIST AT WORK," was plastered all over local social media. My boss gave me 24 hours to make it disappear or lose my job. He didn' t care about the truth. Then, Mark brought his harassment right to my doorstep, organizing a public shaming spectacle on my quiet street. His megaphone blared, "She lives right here! The woman who steals from hardworking veterans!" As my neighbors watched, judging, he spoke chillingly to a confederate, "This is how you get them to pay. A little public pressure and they\'ll give you anything." Humiliated, desperate, and feeling utterly defeated, I capitulated, wiring him a substantial payment. I had paid the monster. He had won. But as I watched him drive away, a cold, unyielding resolve settled deep within me. This wasn\'t surrender. This was just the beginning. I picked up my phone and dialed 9-1-1./1/111417/coverorgin.jpg?v=8ddebfe15948283d4650fdac200c7fd8&imageMogr2/format/webp)
