Modern Books for Women
Bestsellers Ongoing Completed
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Di you Miss me?
“hello sister? Can you please come and get me here at SD hotel? I’m so drunk and I can’t drive I’ll call mother to let her know, “ that my sister Gail “Ok just wait me there what room?” I ask, “ I’m here at room 000 make it fast you know I really feel uncomfortable ,” I was studying when my sister called me, where just at the same age and she’s not just studying but working at the biggest company too here in G city, I just change my shirt and pants to go get her, It’s almost 5 minutes when I get here at SD hotel this hotel is just near at my apartment, that’s why It took 5 minutes only even I just walk to here, I ask the front desk and they told me which floor, when I get there the door is slightly open, I knock but no one’s answering me, so I just walk in, it’s so dark and I can’t see a thing, so I raised my hand to look for a switch but before I press it there’s a hand that grab and pull me, “How dare you drug me, Gail your so brave to do this to me, and because of what you have done, you know what the consequences you will get back, “/0/82576/coverorgin.jpg?v=314c680b4f4096d810b08609ff15d8fa&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Hummingbird's Broken Song
I gave up everything for him. My spot at the world' s most prestigious art conservation guild, five grueling years working three dead-end jobs – all to pay off the $50,000 "debt" from my boyfriend Liam' s "failed startup." Tonight, I held the final cash payment, ready for our new beginning. But when I arrived at the exclusive VIP lounge to meet his "loan shark," my world imploded. Liam wasn' t the struggling entrepreneur I knew. He was in a tailored suit, laughing with a socialite, Chloe. And his "loan shark"? Just an employee bowing to him. Then I heard his voice, cold and smooth: "Another fifty K from the little workhorse. She actually did it." My sweat, my exhaustion, my sacrificed dreams-all a cruel joke. They had used me. And then, the sickening climax: his plan for "phase two," a fake $100,000 "debt" to "keep her busy, keep her grateful." The delicate touch of my hands, capable of restoring centuries-old masterpieces, now calloused and trembling with a rage so profound it stole my breath. How could the man I loved orchestrate such a monstrous deception? How could he watch me suffer for years and feel nothing but contempt? My entire life felt like a meticulously constructed lie. But from the ashes of betrayal, a new fire ignited. That $50,000 wasn't for him. It was mine. A desperate call to my old mentor offered a lifeline: a job across the ocean. I wouldn't cower. I was taking my life back, reclaiming my destiny, and I would face him one last time before soaring free./1/104963/coverorgin.jpg?v=eadc210d5b6541dc891b6638a6a3bcb9&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Ruined Heiress and Her Ruthless Monster
My fiancé cheated on me with a bottle service girl on the giant screen at our own engagement party. I woke up the next morning in a strange bed, smelling of sandalwood and expensive scotch, only to realize I was in the penthouse of Julian Blackwood—the man I had cruelly humiliated ten years ago. Before I could even process the shame, my world collapsed. My father suffered a massive stroke, and my half-brother Conrad immediately moved to seize the family empire, while a swarm of illegitimate siblings emerged to strip us of every cent. "You're a stain on my floor, Vivian," Julian told me, his eyes as cold as a stormy sea. He didn't just want me gone; he wanted to watch me go bankrupt. My stepmother hissed that I needed to get on my knees and beg him to be our lawyer, or we’d end up on the street. Then, a biker with a metal bat tried to kill me on a dark Hamptons road, proving my own family had already put a price on my head. I didn't understand why the boy I once called "the gardener's son" was now the only one standing between me and a shallow grave. Julian saved my life from the wreck, but his touch felt like a threat. Was he protecting me, or just making sure he was the one who got to finish me off? Standing in the lobby of Blackwood & Partners, I looked straight into the security cameras and told the biggest lie of my life. I told the world that Julian was obsessed with me, turning a restraining order into a scandalous affair. If I had to be a villain to survive my own family, I would be the most dangerous one New York had ever seen./0/86145/coverorgin.jpg?v=d3469d1cfc54c8fc846934f9d3d9fdfe&imageMogr2/format/webp)
His Sacrifice, Her Redemption, Their End
My family' s crimes finally caught up to us. To save them, I had no choice but to "sell" myself to Sarah Jenkins, my ex. She was the daughter of my family' s biggest victim, and she made me her personal assistant, a pawn in a game of twisted revenge. For three years, her luxurious penthouse became my cage. I endured unimaginable physical and psychological torture, from electric shocks and beatings to being forced to sleep on the floor and eat scraps. When her new husband, Mark Peterson, joined in, things worsened. He carved the word "CRIMINAL" into my arm, turning me into a branded animal. Consumed by despair, I plotted to crash a private jet with them onboard, but Sarah's desperate cry to protect Mark, the man who aided in my torment, made me hesitate. Their twisted dependency baffled me; why would she protect him after all he' d done? Then, Mark found the ashes of my parents, which I had secretly saved, and began to mix them with mud, planning to use them as shark bait. My last shred of dignity shattered. I pleaded with Sarah, reminding her of her promise to leave their remains untouched, but she coldly dismissed it. As she watched, I scooped the filthy ash into my mouth, choosing to become their grave. I was broken, bleeding, and ready to die. But my desperate act triggered a response in her I hadn't seen. She pushed Mark away, protecting me in her own brutal way, just before I pulled her into the ocean with me. In the cold depths, surrounded by sharks, I found myself fighting to save the woman who had systematically destroyed me. It still bewilders me why a love so broken, so entwined with hatred, could force such a sacrifice. My death was inevitable, but it brought me a strange peace. Little did I know, Sarah had meticulously planned every cruel act, using me to destroy Mark. Yet, in her twisted revenge, she blurred the lines between love and hate so completely that my sacrifice somehow became her ultimate redemption. My story has ended, but hers has just truly begun./0/83225/coverorgin.jpg?v=bcb067f6e97d427b6ea00cc74c46b473&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Her Hidden Family, His Stolen Life
For two decades, Ethan diligently built a restaurant empire alongside his wife, Sarah, fulfilling their DINK pact. He even underwent a vasectomy and publicly claimed infertility, protecting her from family judgment, believing their shared dream was unbreakable. Then, a single legal document shattered his meticulously crafted world: a share transfer agreement for two 10-year-olds, Finn and Belle Miller. A quiet inquiry confirmed the unthinkable – they were Sarah' s secret children, born a decade ago, with her "childhood friend," Mark. Sarah, chillingly, dismissed them as a "platonic favor," clarifying she still didn't want children "with him." Her family sided with her, portraying Ethan as unreasonable. Humiliation deepened at a public party when Sarah announced major company shares would go to Finn and Belle, cementing Ethan's public replacement. The ultimate insult: when Finn lied about Ethan, Sarah, without a blink, slapped her husband, choosing her secret son's word over their twenty years of marriage. How could he have been so blind? He'd sacrificed his chance at fatherhood, endured silent pity and judgment, all for a woman who secretly built an entire, separate life, using his devotion as camouflage. The betrayal cut deeper than any physical wound. With cold resolve, Ethan signed the divorce papers, leaving behind a video revealing the truth of Finn' s lie and Sarah' s unquestioning cruelty. He walked out forever, ready to find a peace she' d never allowed him./1/102692/coverorgin.jpg?v=bc3f9b5424962336591ad0a82d9a5e77&imageMogr2/format/webp)
A Second Chance To Save Our Lives
My daughter Jodie died in my arms. The doctor' s words were a death sentence: "Severe neglect. Malnutrition. Multiple internal injuries." But my husband, the famous life coach Julian Maynard, didn't mourn. He issued a public statement. He called Jodie a "challenging child" and twisted her death into a tragedy about mental health, all to enhance his compassionate image. He even publicly forgave the boy who had tormented her, the same boy he brought into our home to teach Jodie "resilience." My own life ended in a fire, a final, violent release from a world of his making. As the flames consumed me, I couldn't understand. How could the man I loved build his legacy on the grave of our daughter and the ruins of my life? Then, I opened my eyes. The divorce papers sat on the table, his signature a stark black stain. It was years earlier. Before the fire. Before Jodie died./0/93283/coverorgin.jpg?v=112ded9048e677b2990e36ca1fbef718&imageMogr2/format/webp)
A Perfect Marriage Built On Lies
For five years, I believed I had the perfect marriage. That ended the day I saw my husband in the park with his son—a son I never knew existed, and a woman my family told me was dead. The woman was Morgan, my adoptive sister who tried to have me killed in a hit-and-run before vanishing. My husband and parents swore she died in a car crash. They all lied. I found a hidden tablet, a five-year highlight reel of my life as a cover story. Photos of a pregnant Morgan. Videos of my husband, David, teaching their son to say “Dada.” Even pictures of my own parents, holding the secret grandson they adored while telling me I wasn't ready for a child. My entire world, my entire family, was a complete fabrication. But the final blow was a recording of David’s voice, discussing a “Plan B” in case I ever discovered the truth. “We can have her declared mentally incompetent. We can have her committed and out of our way for good.” They weren’t just betraying me; they were ready to lock me in a psychiatric ward and throw away the key. So that night, on our fifth anniversary, when David handed me a cup of “calming tea” sent by my mother, I smiled. I played the part of the loving wife one last time, then walked out the door forever. They wanted to erase me, so I decided to become a ghost./0/36829/coverorgin.jpg?v=c31e70f4b10ae8ebf00777e0b5b561ff&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Remarry My Perfect Husband
In her previous life, Kathryn mistakenly trusted in Caylee and Edmund. As a result of her foolish naivete, her family was destroyed and she was burned alive. Now that she was reborn, she vowed to tear down their facade and see them for who they truly were. She would avenge the tragic ending of her previous life and cherish her perfect husband Willard, who was the only one who was there for her in her previous life. After getting married, she wrapped her arms around his neck and said, “With you, my life is perfect.” "Really? What if you want to divorce me in the future?" “Never! In fact, let’s make a baby tonight. From now on, if you dare to look at another woman, I’ll break your legs.”/1/101070/coverorgin.jpg?v=503a8a3b51b6e8162f1923539a1a2b3e&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Second Chances Denied: From Dull Housewife To Comic Icon
Rylee and Alec grew up together, and she always believed their love was destined. Yet three years into marriage, his indifference chilled her to the core. Wounded and exhausted, Rylee finally let go. "Let's get a divorce." Alec assumed she was bluffing-she had loved him so completely, he couldn't imagine her leaving. But Rylee signed the papers and walked away, shedding her dull housewife image for a life of fame as a celebrated comic artist. No longer orbiting his world, she shone alone. Only then did Alec realize he'd lost her for good-and now he'd do anything to win her back. "Come back to me, darling. I'd do anything for you."/0/82252/coverorgin.jpg?v=253b36607c5a22190f7ab8f1815fafbe&imageMogr2/format/webp)
My Cold-blooded Arch Nemesis Is Suddenly Obsessed With Me
"After seven blind years with Joshua, Daniela caught him pampering his new flame just weeks before the vows. Disgust sharpened her resolve. On their wedding morning she strode down the aisle, tore off her ring, and called it quits. The arrogant Clark family rushed to sneer-until three formidable Stewart brothers stepped in. The eldest's voice was ice. ""Your empire is about to implode."" The second vowed ruin for anyone who dared bruise his sister. The youngest flashed a sly grin. ""Watch and learn what true power looks like."" The Clarks were left regretting their actions, while Daniela melted into her arch nemesis's arms. ""Take me home, hon."/0/82901/coverorgin.jpg?v=8533237ef8c6ed6be85d73a523f96456&imageMogr2/format/webp)
My Sweet, Silent Revenge
My marriage was crumbling, not because of a cheating husband, but because of his mother – my mother-in-law, Brenda. She was a compulsive thief, but her family called it eccentric. Until the day she framed me for grand larceny, planting stolen heirlooms and stacks of cash in my purse right before a family gathering. No one believed me. Not Mike, my husband, who stood idly by as his "misunderstood" mother wove elaborate lies on the stand. I was convicted and sentenced to years in prison. By the time I got out, Mike had divorced me, my life was in ruins, and I found a desperate escape that ultimately led to my death. I died angry, heartbroken, and utterly betrayed by the very people who should have protected me. They built their lives on the ashes of mine, while I suffered for a crime I didn't commit, a victim of their blindness and her malicious deceit. But then, I woke up. My eyes snapped open, and the digital clock read 9:03 AM – three years before the addiction, before the prison, before my death. It wasn't a dream. It was an impossible second chance. This time, I wouldn't be the victim. I would be the orchestrator. My sweet, silent revenge would begin, and they wouldn't even see it coming./1/115995/coverorgin.jpg?v=9f0547cdc58c661baba8b83821b44a38&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Jilted Heiress's Dazzling Phoenix Rebirth
For thirty years, Javen and I were inseparable childhood sweethearts, and for the last three, we were the perfect engaged power couple. But at our engagement celebration, hiding behind a velvet curtain, I overheard him telling his best man that our entire relationship was a corporate sham to protect his real girlfriend, Keely. He laughed, calling my lifelong devotion a "convenient crush" that kept his strict parents off his back. Worse, the horrifying truth about my car crash three years ago was soon revealed. Javen didn't just lose control of the wheel. He deliberately swerved to avoid hitting Keely, who had run into the road during a jealous tantrum. The impact crushed my side of the car, killed our unborn baby, and left me permanently infertile. He sacrificed our child to protect his mistress, then played the devoted fiancé while I grieved in the hospital. I had given him thirty years of unwavering love, only to be treated as a disposable human shield. How could the man who wiped my tears be the same monster who orchestrated my absolute destruction? I didn't shed a single tear. I calmly projected their secret texts and videos onto the ballroom screen, publicly broke off the engagement, and walked out into the night. It was time to build my own jewelry empire, and I was going to let his powerful older brother help me burn Javen's world to the ground./1/106586/coverorgin.jpg?v=32f8960479a6377062ff8e8bb6d5eeb0&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./0/81279/coverorgin.jpg?v=47ea41f0c387825230b34ba4776a5761&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Unseen Betrayal: A Love Murdered
Anya Sharma had it all: a brilliant architecture career and a seemingly perfect marriage to Julian Vance, San Francisco' s beloved "People' s Champion." Everyone adored them, his public devotion legendary, filled with grand, romantic gestures. But Anya quietly confessed the truth: his public devotion was a meticulously crafted lie, a shield for relentless infidelity, revealed by early anonymous emails and late-night whispers. The cracks widened daily, fueled by unfamiliar perfumes and furtive texts, pushing Anya towards a shattering truth about Julian' s affair with Izzy Moreau. Then came the crushing realization during a car crash: in a split second, Julian instinctively protected Izzy and his precious work, forcing pregnant Anya to bear the brutal impact alone, leading to their child' s devastating loss. Anya watched him perform as the grieving husband, oblivious to his continued secret life with Izzy, now secretly pregnant with his child. The public airport proposal to Izzy, where Julian denounced Anya, was a final, humiliating blow. His obsession spiraled into relentless harassment, culminating in Anya's chilling abduction. Trapped in a luxurious prison, Anya was subjected to Julian' s pathological delusion, as he attempted to force her into a twisted family with Izzy's son, falsely claiming the child was theirs through a secret surrogacy. Anya, reeling from the profound injustice and overwhelming sense of betrayal, recognized his true depravity. Desperate and cornered, she made a choice for self-preservation and freedom. With a single, decisive strike, Anya ended Julian's tyranny, shattering his manufactured world and reclaiming her life from a nightmare that had consumed her for too long, paving the way for a genuine future with Ben Carter./1/101395/coverorgin.jpg?v=8533e06007e6dc10746f9e4b9224fb67&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Abandoned Wife And Her Secret Heir
I was staring at a high-resolution photo of my husband burying his face in another woman’s neck when his text came through. "Pizza or Thai?" He wasn't just cheating. The photos showed him playing house with a woman named Serena and a little boy who had his exact nose. He had told me he wasn't ready for children, yet here he was, giving his world to a secret family. When I confronted them at his company gala, Serena didn't apologize. She smirked, ripped the wedding ring off my finger, and shoved me hard. I hit the floor with a sickening crunch. Pain exploded in my stomach. "Help me," I gasped, clutching my belly. "My baby." Michael looked at me. Then he looked at Serena and the boy. He made his choice. He turned his back on his bleeding, pregnant wife and escorted his mistress out the emergency exit to avoid a scandal. He left me there to die. He didn't know that the "son" he was protecting was a rental—a prop Serena hired to trap him. And he didn't know that the baby he left to die on the gallery floor was the only real child he would ever have. I didn't go home to cry. I sent him a receipt for a cremation service for "Baby Boy Hayes," withdrew half our savings, and vanished. He thinks he's free. He has no idea I'm still alive, and I’m taking his real son with me./0/82577/coverorgin.jpg?v=13382caec2f4297caf3c6e57f21de8a4&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Lies She Built
My life as a carpenter was hard, but simple, built on providing for my wife, Kate, and our son, Ethan, who worked tirelessly delivering food to help our "struggling" family. Kate always said we were barely scraping by, and I believed her. One phone call changed everything: a cop on the line, "Mr. Peterson? There's been an accident involving your son, Ethan." My world shattered. Ethan, my brilliant, hardworking son, was dead-a hit-and-run victim. But as I reeled, Kate was cold, distant, her phone leading me to an Instagram post where she beamed at a lavish gala. She was celebrating with Liam Carter and his entitled son, Josh, next to a new sports car, their "bright future." My son was gone, and my wife was living a shocking, joyful lie. The truth emerged from hushed words: Kate had a massive secret fortune, bankrolling Josh, while Ethan, unaware of her deceit, worked himself to death. My son died trying to help us, and his inheritance effectively funded his killer. The betrayal was a burning poison, consuming my grief. The final, brutal revelation came in a hospital corridor: Josh, Kate's spoiled protégé, had hit Ethan with the very car she'd bought him, all as I received my own death sentence-late-stage mesothelioma. As police arrested Josh for vehicular homicide, I knew my life was over, but Kate's twisted game had just begun./1/104964/coverorgin.jpg?v=cffab117a9a3a6308cb5aa4c69e502a0&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Shadow Wife's Secret Billionaire Baby
For five years, I was the shadow behind billionaire Julian Sterling—his top executive assistant by day and his secret wife by night. I lived by a strict contract, staying invisible to protect his public image while raising his son, Leo, as my own. On New Year’s Eve, the silence of our penthouse was shattered. I watched on live television as Julian dropped to one knee at a high-society gala, proposing to Hollywood star Victoria Chase with a pink diamond that cost more than my life. When he came home, he didn't offer an apology; he offered an insult. He revealed that Victoria was actually Leo’s biological mother and I was merely a "temporary caretaker" whose time was up. My world spiraled as Victoria staged a fall to frame me for assault, and Julian’s family treated me like a common criminal. "You are a biological necessity, Serena. Do not make this emotional," he told me, his voice devoid of any warmth we had shared in private. The betrayal cut deeper than I thought possible. Every sacrifice I made for our family was a lie, a five-year waiting period for his "real" life to begin. He handed me divorce papers with a staggering settlement, but it came with a chilling condition: I had to waive all rights for any future children. He wanted to ensure I couldn't claim a "golden ticket" if I turned up pregnant. He didn't know I was already clutching a positive pregnancy test in my pocket. As I reached for the pen to sign the papers and disappear with Leo, a violent pain exploded in my stomach. I felt the warmth of blood soaking through my clothes, and the room began to spin. I looked at Julian’s cold, expectant face and realized I was no longer just a wife or an assistant. I was a liability he intended to erase. But as I collapsed into the darkness, I made one final vow: he would never lay a finger on my unborn child./1/102693/coverorgin.jpg?v=23600786701570755942fba8dccec7dc&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Four Years Built On Deceit
For four years, I believed my fiancé, Damari, was fighting for us. I watched him endure his grandfather' s cruel punishments-exile, financial ruin, public humiliation-all because the old man supposedly refused to approve our marriage. I waited, believing his sacrifice was the ultimate proof of his love. Then I found the real document hidden in his office. It wasn't a rejection. It was an approval, stamped and dated, with a tiny, forged "not" scrawled in different ink. The entire four-year struggle was a lie. When I confronted him, he crumbled. He did it for his obsessive assistant, Cydney. "She can't live without me, Augusta," he pleaded. "She needs me." My world collapsed. His devotion wasn't for me; it was a performance to appease another woman. All his "sacrifices" were just a cruel way to keep me waiting while he played the hero for someone else. So when he abandoned me one last time to run to Cydney's side, I made my choice. I packed my bags, left New York, and started a new life, determined to never be anyone's second choice again./1/107560/coverorgin.jpg?v=365257fbac6c784338ee80e20cf371c6&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Runaway Wife's Billion Dollar Secret
I was the high-society "fixer" who traded my freedom to pay off my father’s debts, living in a gilded penthouse as the perfect wife to billionaire Flint Harrington. My world was a silent, expensive cage until a mistress sent me a photo of my husband’s cufflinks on a generic hotel carpet. "He's not coming home tonight," she messaged, attaching a picture of a positive pregnancy test. The timing was lethal. Flint’s grandmother had just promised a multi-billion dollar stake in the family empire to the first heir born. When I confronted him, Flint didn't apologize; instead, he claimed he’d had a secret vasectomy years ago and that the mistress was a fraud. The room spun as the truth hit me. I was actually pregnant, and if Flint believed he was sterile, he would use the adultery clause in our prenup to brand me a liar and strip me of everything. In this family, a baby wasn't a child—it was a corporate asset that the Harrington Trust would legally seize the moment I gave birth. I stood there, watching my husband argue about his virility while I carried the very secret that would make me a fugitive. I was trapped in a marriage where my own body was a crime scene, and my husband was the judge and executioner. Then, my hidden burner phone buzzed at 3 AM with a melody I thought was buried in a grave. "Jo? It's me. I'm alive." It was Caleb, my first love who had been declared dead in action years ago. Flint smashed the phone in a dark rage before I could answer, but it was too late. I grabbed my passport and walked out of the penthouse. I was done fixing things for the Harringtons. I was taking their heir, and I was going to find my ghost./0/82902/coverorgin.jpg?v=84c0ae7bd70ab3e248569bc4d10f782e&imageMogr2/format/webp)
