Modern Books for Women
Bestsellers Ongoing Completed
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Like A Phoenix Reborn
Christina had always believed in taking retribution for the wrongs done to her. To that end, she personally crippled the person who had hurt someone important to her. She was imprisoned for three years, and by the time she was released, her reputation was in tatters. The public despised her for her ruthlessness. They were all shocked, then, to witness the powerful and dignified Harold kiss her with a searing passion. He took it a step further by declaring his love on social media. "I am yours, Christina." She had gone through hell and emerged from the ashes to magnificent new life./0/77706/coverorgin.jpg?v=d66ce7f40fa1c8ea9311d1c29b4535d4&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Trapped In The Tyrannical CEO's Love
Carrying a child left Adeline trapped in marriage to the ruthless and unhinged Waylon, and everyone doubted she'd survive to see the baby's first breath. Filled with dread but determined, she carefully won him over and soon became his lethal obsession. Yet on the day she planned to escape, Waylon drove their car to a cliff's edge, foot hovering over the gas. "I'm sorry, love-did you just say divorce?" His fingers skimmed her cheek, his tone a deadly whisper. "Defy me, and you pay." Later, drenched in blood and rain, he knelt before her, trembling, and pleaded, "Tell me how to keep you here."/1/115991/coverorgin.jpg?v=afdb24ac93d95a9729577a3939413034&imageMogr2/format/webp)
They Planned My Fall, I Built My Throne
After dreaming of her stepsister pushing her into the sea while her parents plotted to steal her inheritance, Rachael woke with the ability to foresee the future. Armed with that knowledge, she exposed schemers, crushed enemies, and reclaimed everything meant to be hers. Austin once believed their marriage was nothing more than an alliance, until he realized his wife was far more dangerous and brilliant than expected. So when Rachael announced their contract was over, he cornered her. "Let's renew it for life. My money, my family, and even I belong to you."/1/113071/coverorgin.jpg?v=926ca13fb19949c3e344f0f6b69b66c8&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Billionaire's Broken Doll Returns
Five years ago, I was sentenced to prison for a car accident that left Blaire Lowe fighting for her life in the ICU. The day I was finally released, I thought the nightmare was over, but it had only just begun. Carson Long, the man who once loved me, was waiting. He didn't see a victim of a tragic accident; he saw a monster who deserved to rot. He made sure I knew that freedom was a lie. He turned my life into a living hell, dragging me through the halls of the hospital to witness the ruin I had caused, forcing me to watch as those who once knew me spat on my name and treated me like filth. When he demanded I pay for my sins by destroying my own face, I didn't hesitate. I carved a jagged scar into my cheek just to satisfy his cold, relentless hatred, hoping it would finally be enough to earn his mercy. But he wasn't satisfied. He dragged me to his estate, stripped me of my dignity, and turned me into the house's lowest servant, forcing me to scrub cobblestones until my knees bled and my body gave out. Why did he hate me so much that he wanted me to suffer every second of my existence? Why was he so determined to see my soul crushed into dust, even when I had nothing left to give? I looked at the trash I was forced to eat, and in that moment, I realized that as long as Carson held the leash, I would never be free. I picked up a piece of moldy bread, my eyes hollow, and decided that if living meant becoming his dog, I would find a way to end the game on my own terms./1/116640/coverorgin.jpg?v=9b7bafaea13c712077e65715c86baf93&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Unwanted Wife And Her Secret Pregnancy
After enduring brutal IVF injections entirely alone to protect her husband's fragile ego about his infertility, Evelyn finally received a positive pregnancy test. But when she rushed to his Wall Street office to share the news, she found him kneeling on the floor, tenderly icing a microscopic scratch on his ex-girlfriend Gigi's ankle. Gigi had snooped through Evelyn's bathroom, found her old fertility drugs, and casually left them on his desk. Chadwick threw the pill bottle at Evelyn's feet, mocking her for being a barren liar and accusing her of faking a pregnancy just to guilt-trip him. When Gigi deliberately threw herself onto the lobby floor, he roared at Evelyn in front of fifty employees, calling his own wife a vicious monster. He even used her dying mother's cancer treatment to blackmail Evelyn into dropping the divorce for the sake of his corporate image. That night, just as Evelyn prepared a candlelit dinner to show him the official lab report, he abandoned her to rush to the ER because Gigi claimed she was in a horrific car accident. Evelyn followed him, only to watch him fiercely holding Gigi over a tiny paper cut, treating his ex like fragile glass. She finally realized that her years of silent sacrifice and the tiny life growing inside her meant absolutely nothing to him. As paparazzi swarmed the hospital to broadcast his affair, Chadwick's billionaire rival stepped up and shielded Evelyn from the cameras. "Are you finally ready to dissolve the prenuptial agreement?" This time, Evelyn didn't hesitate. She was ready to destroy them both./0/82573/coverorgin.jpg?v=ffc35c8a8b1fc54c3c65fce4114af265&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Sweet Poison, Cold Revenge
My sorority sister, Brittany, always seemed like the perfect friend – sweet, glamorous, always ready with a helpful suggestion. But that sweetness was a lie, a poison. It started with a phony survey, then quickly escalated. My SSN, my bank details, all stolen overnight for a "$3,000 loan" I never truly asked for. That loan spiraled to $9,000, and soon, Brittany' s "help" forced me into something far darker – an "escort service" tied to her family's hidden cruelties. The fabricated photos, the rumors, the shame – it all broke my parents. Their car crash, the one that erased them from my life, was no accident. It was the crushing weight of their daughter' s fabricated ruin, orchestrated by the girl who smiled in my face. My rage burned even hotter than the fire in my gut when I finally collapsed, only to realize, in that fleeting moment between life and oblivion, the bitter truth: their entire scheme was illegal. Unenforceable. A sham. Knowledge that came too late. They stole everything: my future, my family, even my last breath. But then, my eyes snapped open. I was back. September 14th. The day it all began, the day Brittany first whispered about that loan. And this time, she wouldn' t just trick me. This time, I knew her game. Every single move. My blood ran cold as her sugary voice called from the door. "Kayla? You in there?" The nightmare was vivid, but so was my resolve. She thought I was an easy mark. She thought wrong. This time, I' m the one setting the trap./0/89062/coverorgin.jpg?v=a79fa856458c2d9bf4fbf8a50cccfe05&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Oops! My Real Identity Just Destroyed My Con Artist Boyfriend
On the first day of school, my childhood sweetheart boyfriend, Xander Harris, took me to school, but we met a two-faced roommate. She flattered him, praising his exceptional maturity for his age. Yet, she accused me of being vain, carrying a knock-off designer bag, and creating a rich persona. As I tidied my bed, she dramatically gasped. "Wasn't that wealthy older benefactor who accompanied you yesterday supposed to rent you a place near campus? What happened? Did he change his mind?" When she learned that my boyfriend and I planned to marry right after graduation, she shouted loud, "You can't be serious! Are there still gold diggers who want to get something for nothing and rely on men?" Inside, I was laughing hysterically. Wealthy older benefactor? That was my dad! And my boyfriend? Just the son of my dad's driver./1/124427/coverorgin.jpg?v=c365fae3e5b3a46a6bd6c738c81a1e4c&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Homeless Man I Saved Was Actually a Billionaire
Debora Finley was once a star prosecutor in the D.A.'s office. Now, she hauled heavy black bags as a city garbage collector. Three years ago, her fiancé Brandon drove drunk and killed an heiress. To save himself, he framed Debora, letting her take the fall while he climbed the corporate ladder. When Debora screamed her innocence from behind the prison glass, Brandon didn't just silence her. "You ruined everything!" He pinned her wrist to the metal counter and brought his expensive shoe down hard, shattering the very hand she used to fight for justice. After three years of hell, she was finally released, only to be entirely discarded by her own flesh and blood. Her father slapped her and kicked her out into the cold night, while her sister lured her to a hotel penthouse, locking her inside with a predatory director as a trade for an investment. "Looks like you need to be taught a lesson." Pinned to the sofa with whiskey being forced down her throat, Debora felt the icy grip of absolute despair. She didn't understand why her pursuit of justice was rewarded with a ruined hand, a prison cell, and the utter betrayal of everyone she ever loved. Just as her vision began to blur, a deafening crash echoed through the room. The heavy suite door was ripped entirely off its hinges. Standing in the doorway was the silent, homeless man she had taken in off the streets just days ago. The man who was secretly Gideon Camacho, the ruthless billionaire titan of Wall Street—and the fiancé of the woman Debora was framed for killing. And right now, his eyes were burning with a promise of murder./0/26768/coverorgin.jpg?v=68db414aff35049a7d39e697164e5d3b&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Protecting Aces
The Rose Sister is in a new mission handed by the Emerald Empress of Rogue Society, a society composed of groups of people who acts out of government knowing. Most are a herd of thieves. Venice, the new leader of the Rose Sister, after their previous leader died, was threatened along with her two-member when the secret of the request emerges, and the reason why they need to protect Aces, A.K.A, Ivan Dutch Demonie, a billionaire, who happened to be the top one hacker of Underworld society. A secret that will reveal the past and the future of the truth of the previous leader of Rose Sister about who they are and the underlying secret each of them had./1/103338/coverorgin.jpg?v=39550b6984ff9086126c3513db1255a5&imageMogr2/format/webp)
My Billionaire Husband's Deadly Betrayal
My husband, tech billionaire Amir Carter, was a god in Chicago. For five years, he was the perfect husband, and I, a pediatric doctor, believed I had finally tamed the infamous playboy. But when my brother Keon needed an urgent heart transplant, everything fell apart. The donor Amir found was a young singer-exactly his type. On the day of the surgery, as my brother was dying, I found my husband comforting her. "Don't pressure her, Blake," he said. "She's delicate." Then the call came. My brother was dead. Amir didn't even notice, annoyed that I was stressing out his new project. He pushed me down a flight of stairs, crashed his car into my taxi to protect her, and gave her the last gift my brother ever made for me. He saw me bleeding on the floor and walked right past, his only concern for the woman who let my brother die. My fairy tale was a lie. I was just another one of his seasonal projects, now completed and discarded. He took everything from me. So I signed the divorce papers, refused his millions, and vanished. Now, he's left alone with the truth: he killed my brother, and he didn't even know it./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./1/117614/coverorgin.jpg?v=5eab015ea6de096fd82b9a070cc39b02&imageMogr2/format/webp)
One Star Review For My Billionaire Husband
My stepsister drugged me at a high-society gala. By midnight, the reporters were waiting to catch me ruined, my fiancé was already in her bed, and my own father was ready to sell me to save the Long family's reputation. I escaped into a dark hotel suite and spent one forbidden night with a dangerous stranger whose face I never saw clearly. The next morning, my life was over. My fiancé broke our engagement and proudly chose my stepsister. My father slapped me in front of everyone and gave me a new order. Marry Theodore Sinclair. An old, ugly, dying billionaire. When I refused, he threatened the only person I still loved: my little brother, whose life depended on the medical bills my family controlled. So I put on the wedding dress. I walked toward a monster. But the man waiting for me was not old. He was not weak. And he was definitely not dying. He was Donovan Sinclair, the ruthless billionaire I had spent that night with. My family thought they had sold me. They had no idea they had just handed me a crown. Now I am Mrs. Sinclair. And every person who broke me is about to learn what it means to be owned by a man even crueler than they are./0/85818/coverorgin.jpg?v=96e3871d93ce1bbd68f4a73ed9edd140&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Wife He Thought He Broke
My parents' living room, usually a haven, felt like a courtroom as I delivered my verdict. "The brownstone goes to Emily' s son, Leo." The silence cracked with my mother' s gasp, Lily' s heartbroken whisper, and my father' s stunned roar. They saw a monster, cold and unfeeling, sacrificing my own daughter' s future for a perceived wrong. My husband, Mark, seized the moment, orchestrating a public spectacle that branded me an unfit mother, a betrayer of my own flesh and blood. He paraded Emily, my supposed best friend, as the wronged party, while Lily, my sweet Lily, crumpled under the weight of my manufactured cruelty. On live television, before a horrified nation, I was forced to declare my daughter worthless, to shatter her trust with words that tasted like ash in my throat. I watched her collapse, her little body convulsing, knowing I had just broken her heart to save her life. But what kind of mother drives her child to such despair? What unforgivable sin did I commit to warrant this public condemnation? They think they' ve won, that they' ve stripped me of everything. But they haven' t taken Lily. Not yet. And in the silent, strategic war I' m waging, their every move, every lie, every smug act of triumph, is only bringing them closer to their inevitable downfall./0/51102/coverorgin.jpg?v=0ee0ab275799a2dfa22ea89fec39128a&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Let Me Go, My Aloof CEO Husband
Averie married Brayden while his company was in turmoil, a decision driven by love rather than careful thought. Yet, no matter how much she devoted herself, he didn't reciprocate her love. The woman in his heart would never be her. Tragedy struck on the night Brayden regained control of the Fowler Group. While he reveled in his victory, Averie endured a heartbreaking miscarriage and nearly lost her life in the freezing sea. Surviving the ordeal, she got tired of all this and resolved to break free from the past through divorce. However, Brayden, unexpectedly changing his heart, refused to let her go. "Averie, our paths were meant to cross. We are bound by fate."/0/70569/coverorgin.jpg?v=d624c8b278b18725e5cf03027d4a4d1d&imageMogr2/format/webp)
THE HOUSEMAID
Memories haunted Andrea's dreams, echoes of a past she couldn't escape. Her father's laughter, her mother's tears, and the cold, calculating smile of Julian Richardson. The night her father's business was ruined, the night he died, was etched in her memory like a scar. Andrea's eyes burned with a fire that had fueled her every move since then. Revenge. She had spent years gathering strength, planning, and waiting. Now, she was ready. Andrea slipped on her mask, a perfect facade of innocence and vulnerability. She would infiltrate the Richardson family, gather evidence of their wrongdoing, and bring them down. But nothing could have prepared her for Nathaniel Richardson, Julian's son. Charming, handsome, and kind, he was the last person she expected to fall for. As Andrea navigated the treacherous landscape of the Richardson family's secrets and lies, she found herself torn between her desire for revenge and her growing feelings for Nathaniel. Would she choose to destroy the family that had destroyed hers, or would love redeem them all? This prologue sets the stage for a dramatic and emotional story, introducing the themes of revenge, love, and redemption./1/116641/coverorgin.jpg?v=1a0fe9d6d829187967a81152dec2c9f2&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Her Fake Memory Loss, His Real Goodbye
One phone call shattered a seven-year-long dream of love. Holden Campbell believed his fiancée Avery's amnesia was a wound that needed patient healing. He used all his connections, booking appointments with the best neurologists on the East Coast, convinced that science and love could bring back the woman who had accepted his proposal. However, an overheard phone call plunged him into despair—Avery had never suffered from amnesia. She had simply grown tired of their "suffocatingly perfect life," using "selective amnesia" as a costless vacation, and he was nothing more than a toy she could put back on the shelf at any time. When betrayal transformed from suspicion into irrefutable evidence, when his lover's laughter became the sharpest blade, Holden didn't break down, didn't confront her. He simply picked up his phone and dialed a lawyer's number: "I need to change my name. And, liquidate everything I own." A meticulously planned disappearance began. Behind him, the woman who thought she was in control remained unaware—her puppet had cut all its strings, and the script she had crafted was about to lose its only leading man./0/76085/coverorgin.jpg?v=1ff0ece02af82c6c32cc1d8744411be2&imageMogr2/format/webp)
One Night, One Baby, One Billionaire Mess
Five years ago, Ava Sinclair was forced into a contract marriage with Damian Cross, a ruthless billionaire CEO, to save her family from financial ruin. Their marriage was cold and transactional, but one night, emotions got the best of them, leading to a passionate encounter. The next morning, Ava overheard Damian saying he would never love her-only tolerate her as his wife. Heartbroken, she left him, pregnant and in hiding. Now, five years later, Ava is back in the city as an accomplished and a successful executive in one of Damian's rival firms. A scandal forces her company into a fake engagement with Damian, a strategic move to keep the media at bay. Damian has no memory of their past marriage-a mysterious accident erased that part of his life. To him, Ava is just an ex-employee, a woman he feels inexplicably drawn to. But when he starts chasing her back, desperate to understand why she despises him, Ava is caught in a web of revenge and longing./1/104961/coverorgin.jpg?v=5a48e61b5ae5f1b1e1b481cb7d8b4efe&imageMogr2/format/webp)
No Divorce, Only Widowhood: His Possession
I went to The Ivy to return a box of scripts and hoodies, hoping to finally bury my past with movie star Harrison Knox. I just wanted to be a good wife to Julian Sterling and keep my family’s business merger intact. But Harrison had other plans. He staged a paparazzi ambush, pulling me into a fake embrace just as the cameras flashed. By the time I got home to our Bel Air estate, the headline "Harrison Knox Heartbroken? Tearful Reunion with Serena Vance" was already trending worldwide. The fallout was brutal. My father called, roaring that the stock was in freefall and threatening to stop my mother’s medical payments if I didn't keep Julian happy. My movie funding was pulled, leaving me to pawn my Birkin bags just to pay my staff. Even worse, Julian’s cold indifference turned into a sharp, quiet rage. He heard me tell a friend that our marriage felt like a transaction, and his response was to toss a black Centurion card at my feet like I was something he’d bought at an auction. I was trapped between a narcissist who wanted to use my trauma for his next script and a father who saw me as nothing but a bargaining chip. Even Julian, the man who secretly bought my movie rights through a shell company to protect me, believed I was still screaming my ex's name in my sleep. When my family finally demanded I lie and accuse Julian of domestic abuse to secure a settlement, I realized I had nothing left to lose. I walked away from the Vance name, deleted every memory of Harrison, and stood at the edge of the Pacific Ocean ready to let the tide take me. But Julian didn't come for a divorce. He found me in the dark, his coat heavy on my shoulders and his eyes burning with a possessive fire. "There is no divorce in the Sterling family," he whispered against my ear. "There is only widowhood. You are mine, Serena, until one of us is in the ground."/0/86143/coverorgin.jpg?v=9eb83123a4520c7f57e2748ef7ebbc25&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Her Husband's Cruel Indifference
It was my son Ethan' s fifth birthday, a day meant for celebration. His small hand clutched mine, his eyes wide with the innocent wish to visit the city aquarium. But then, my husband David, a man as imposing as the military jacket he wore, declared his plans had changed, dismissing our son' s hopes with chilling indifference. "The aquarium is for common people." he sneered, his true priority a mistress, Lisa Johnson, and their sordid affair. When I begged for just a few hours, David' s face hardened into a mask of cruel indifference. Ethan, sensing the tension, began to cry softly. "Crying? Over something so trivial?" he scoffed, before scooping Ethan into his arms. My son' s cries turned to shrieks as David strode towards our private lake. "I' m teaching him a lesson," he calmly stated. Before I could react, he tossed our five-year-old son into the dark, cold water. The splash was horribly loud, and Ethan' s small body disappeared, then reappeared, flailing, gasping for air. David stood motionless, watching him drown, "If he' s my son, he' ll survive." I screamed, fighting to reach Ethan, but David' s steel grip held me back, forcing me to watch as my son' s struggles grew weaker, his head bobbing, his small hands slapping the water with less and less force. His eyes, wide with terror, locked on me, a desperate, silent plea. Then his head went under. It didn' t come back up. "He failed," David stated, as I collapsed onto the ground, my life shattered. I returned home to find Ethan' s room being dismantled, his world erased, replaced by a nursery for Lisa' s unborn child. They stood there, smiling, planning their future on the ashes of my son' s life. "Ethan doesn' t need a room anymore, Sarah," David said, his voice laced with that same chilling indifference. "He' s dead!" I shrieked, "You killed him!" His response was a dismissive sigh, and Lisa, cunningly feigning distress for her baby, manipulated David into striking me. His slap echoed in the empty room, stinging my cheek, and in that horrifying moment, I saw the monster he truly was. This wasn' t just indifference; it was pure evil. With his father' s help, I held a small memorial for Ethan, a vigil that David and Lisa callously ignored, even sharing a triumphant kiss in front of our son' s symbolic casket. My heart turned to ice. Then David, in a fit of rage, smashed Ethan' s last photograph and burned his beloved teddy bear, extinguishing the last tangible pieces of my son, and with them, any lingering attachment I had to him. Later, I discovered David was sterile, meaning Lisa' s baby wasn' t his. This wasn' t just betrayal; it was a calculated scheme. Clutching the charred remains of Ethan' s teddy bear' s eye, a searing physical anchor to my unimaginable loss, I walked out of that house and that life with a quiet, resolute dignity. I was done./1/102690/coverorgin.jpg?v=8c69b56ed7cedb1754d2b0b85832703a&imageMogr2/format/webp)
