Modern Books for Women
Bestsellers Ongoing Completed
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Decade Long Project and Her Revenge
For ten years, I poured my life, my youth, and every cent into building a tech empire with Alex. My desk, once beside his in the CEO' s office, was now a cramped corner, and my new job? Fetching coffee for his pregnant fiancée, Emily, who' d been with the company barely six months. Then came the brutal blow: Alex announced their engagement, glowing beside Emily, never once meeting my eyes. The next day, I was demoted to "Executive Assistant." My core designs for our decade-long project were presented to the board, but I wasn' t invited. Emily emerged, feigning sympathy, telling me Alex found my work "amateurish" and that the project had "evolved under her direction." That night, I quit, taking my secret AI chip blueprints with me, the ones Alex knew nothing about. He scoffed, "She\'s nothing without me. She\'ll be back begging in a week." He had no idea what was coming. Weeks later, at the annual tech gala, Alex cornered me, demanding the blueprints, accusing me of theft. Emily, ever the victim, tried to orchestrate a severe allergic reaction to humiliate me, but in a twist of fate, she triggered it on herself. As chaos erupted, security stormed in, targeting Alex' s company, and a chandelier crashed. Alex, with Emily in tow, fled, leaving me for dead. Injured and abandoned, I limped out, but Alex reappeared, cradling Emily, his eyes alight with murderous rage. He ordered his men to strip me in front of hundreds, exposing every scar from the battles I' d fought for him. As Emily feigned a worsening condition, he ordered my rare blood type to be forcibly harvested, seeing me not as a person, but a walking blood bag. I blacked out, believing he'd finally succeeded in destroying me. But the real story was just beginning. I woke up, not broken, but reborn, ready to claim a future where Alex was nothing but a painful, distant memory./1/105982/coverorgin.jpg?v=6120b20f264f515556fee8b4692a3acc&imageMogr2/format/webp)
His Family's Secret, Her Vengeful Rise
At my engagement party, I exposed my fiancé, Kenton, for being in love with his father' s fiancée. I thought I was finally free. Instead, his powerful family had me abducted. For daring to reveal their dirty secret, I was beaten and humiliated. Kenton, the man I loved, stood by as his father struck me across the face for speaking the truth about his own son. He watched as they dragged me away for "corrective measures" and later burned down my late mother's cherished home, turning the last piece of her I had into ash. They called me hysterical and volatile, painting me as the villain in a story of their own making. I was the one who was betrayed, yet I was the one being punished, broken, and left with nothing. Just as I hit rock bottom, my mysterious uncle, a powerful European banker I barely knew, rescued me. He looked at my bruises, listened to my story, and asked me one simple question. "What do you want?" I told him I wanted revenge. And he smiled./1/112396/coverorgin.jpg?v=ea4d7f48f290355acebcc18894b8e803&imageMogr2/format/webp)
His Trophy Wife Is A Predator
I married the CEO of the powerful Powers Corporation, and everyone saw me as the perfect trophy wife. They assumed my days were filled with nothing but shopping on Fifth Avenue. But this prestigious family was a house of cards. My husband's siblings were spoiled, useless children threatening to bring the entire empire down with their stupidity. His brother, Braden, was a parasite who mistook his trust fund for "freedom." His sister, Chelsea, was a brainless socialite being used as a pawn in a public scandal by a con artist. Even the family's ruthless Chief of Staff, a man meant to be their shield, looked at me with utter contempt, viewing me as just another problem to be managed. They all saw a fragile doll. They had no idea that their weakness was an insult to the family name, and I was not going to stand for it. It was time to discipline the children. The first lesson began at 3,000 feet, when I kicked my brother-in-law out of a plane mid-flight. His rehabilitation—and my takeover of this family—had just begun./0/82673/coverorgin.jpg?v=20260106200915&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Too Late for Apologies: The Architect's Revenge
My life was supposed to be a success story, a talented architect married to a rising firm owner, living comfortably in Chicago. But at the annual holiday gala, my husband, Mark, publicly humiliated me by gifting my deceased mother's irreplaceable locket to his conniving intern, Tiffany, who then carelessly shattered it. What followed was a cruel spiral of blatant infidelity, his dismissal of my grief, gaslighting about his constant neglect, and their calculated plot to destroy my career; he even staged a fake suicide attempt for Tiffany, forcing me to donate my rare blood type on the day of my most critical professional presentation, then watched as they celebrated with my stolen project and commissioned my anniversary gown for his mistress. Lying in that sterile hospital room, sedated and weak, I understood the full extent of their calculated cruelty; every betrayal was a deliberate, agonizing twist of the knife, leaving me stripped of everything and simmering with a cold, unwavering fury. As Mark brazenly handed over my stolen designs to Tiffany, dismissing my accusations of plagiarism, I finally made the call I vowed I never would: to my reclusive, powerful father in New York, demanding he pull every string and dismantle Mark' s entire empire, piece by piece./0/84394/coverorgin.jpg?v=20260106204601&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Secrets of a Killer Father
My daughter, Molly, lay frail in the hospital bed, her future hanging by a thread. The doctor's words were stark: an incredibly expensive experimental therapy was her only hope. My ex-husband, Matthew, stood by, his charming facade crumbling as he refused to pay, citing "scam" and "natural remedies." My heart ached with a familiar, searing pain. I remembered this scene – the same cold refusal, the same sweet-sounding lies that doomed her, and me, in another life. He stood there, the man who had abandoned us before, the man who ultimately murdered us. This time, however, I was ready. This time, I had a plan. My voice, unnervingly calm, cut through the tension. "If you won't pay, Matthew, I understand. We'll go to Oregon. They have a law there – the Dignity with Death Act. Physician-assisted suicide." The room plunged into shocked silence. Gasps. Disbelief. Even Molly, my sweet, brave girl, looked stunned. How could a mother even suggest such a thing? What monstrous desperation, or sheer madness, would drive her to this unthinkable act, to choose death for her child? But they didn't know what I knew. They didn't know the dark secret Matthew was hiding, the true horror he had planned. And this time, I wouldn't let him get away with it. This time, I' d drag his true intentions into the light, even if I had to burn down everything around me to expose him./1/113335/coverorgin.jpg?v=aa84611da4c24376697d23dbc1245ef7&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The $800 Mistake: Becoming My Ex's Mother-in-Law
Gwendolyn just wanted to forget her cheating ex, not accidentally sleep with the most powerful billionaire in New York. She tries to run, terrified of the consequences. But the Wall Street tyrant has already claimed her as his ultimate obsession. He spoils her with limitless black cards, multi-million dollar custom Porsches, and a level of absolute devotion she never experienced in her toxic family. Jordi thought he was climbing the social ladder by abandoning her? Colette thought she could bully a "poor girl"? Think again. With the Wall Street King backing her every move, Gwendolyn is about to show them what real power looks like. Jordi wanted wealth and status? Great. Now, he has to bow down and call his ex-girlfriend "Mom"./1/100038/coverorgin.jpg?v=eee7d0828ac7bdfdecaebd94ad667cb4&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Chess Master's Final Deadly Move
My boyfriend, a chess prodigy, planned to publicly humiliate me at our graduation. He'd spent three years faking our relationship, even secretly filming us, all to get revenge for a lie he believed about my father. I overheard his entire twisted plan just before it was set to happen. So I fled to Paris, leaving him with the wreckage of his prized antique chess set and a video of me smashing it to pieces. I built a new life, found real love with a kind man named Kolton, and my art began to flourish. I was finally healing, finally safe. Then, one morning, my ex shattered my apartment door, holding a black rose, his eyes burning with a terrifying declaration: "I was wrong. I love you. And I'm not leaving until you're mine again."/1/114587/coverorgin.jpg?v=be37b21f08af2a9a5ffcf51ed653d017&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Bound By The Billionaire's Cruel Contract
Clarissa rushed into a crowded nightclub for one simple reason: to save her wildly drunk best friend. But her ruthless billionaire husband, Giovanny, was watching from the VIP room. After effortlessly ruining a man just for grabbing her wrist, Giovanny punished Clarissa for breaching their public image contract with an impossible curfew. When she inevitably arrived back at his penthouse late, he didn't just yell. He forced her to her knees by his bathtub to wash his back, making her watch an explicit, humiliating video as punishment. A sudden family medical emergency dragged them to his parents' estate. Still in her soaked, transparent dress and his misbuttoned shirt, Giovanny's mother caught them. She joyfully assumed they had been passionately intimate. Instead of clearing her name, Giovanny pulled Clarissa close and lied to his mother's face. "We are working very hard on the family's future, Mother." He locked her in the guest suite, tossed a sheer silk nightgown on the bed, and literally shattered the tablet holding their "no-contact" prenuptial agreement. He then slapped a file against the window—he had secretly bought all her father's toxic debt. Clarissa was terrified. They were supposed to be business allies bound by a strict contract. Why was he suddenly acting like a predator determined to own her body and soul? "Give me an heir, or your father goes to federal prison," he whispered. Stripped of all choices, Clarissa picked up the white silk. She would surrender tonight to save her family, but as his shadow swallowed her, she made a silent vow to survive this monster, and one day, tear his empire to the ground./0/84864/coverorgin.jpg?v=20260106205427&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Art of Deception
The sterile white walls of the restoration studio, once my sanctuary, felt like a cage closing in. My former mentor, Mark, stood in the doorway, his face a mask of disappointment, while my ambitious intern, Chloe, watched with a smirk of triumph. I was quitting, giving up the career I had painstakingly built, a decade\'s worth of meticulous work and groundbreaking techniques, all because of a fabricated scandal that destroyed my reputation overnight. They blamed me, the "disgraced restorer," for vandalizing a priceless Degas sculpture, a heinous act I didn' t commit but one Chloe expertly pinned on me, while her "artistic intuition" - my stolen methods - catapulted her to fame. The public humiliation was immediate, a cup of coffee thrown at me on the sidewalk, my name dragged through the mud, while Chloe and Mark reveled in their newfound prestige. I couldn' t comprehend how quickly my life unraveled, why Mark, the man I loved and trusted, so easily believed her lies, or how Chloe consistently knew my most private thoughts and theories. But as I packed my grandfather's tools, leaving behind the life they had ruined, a cold, hard resolve replaced the shame; I wouldn\'t be a victim any longer, and I would uncover the truth behind Chloe\'s "gift" and the full extent of their betrayal./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./1/118811/coverorgin.jpg?v=5269ee6cfd8ea414266dc9072a562e1e&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Shattered Vows: Leaving My Toxic Billionaire Husband
Chloe Hayes believed she had the perfect life: a powerful husband, a beautiful estate, and a five-year-old son she adored. But a single lab report shattered her reality. Her son Ethan's blood type was A. Chloe and her husband Julian were both type O. Genetically, it was an absolute impossibility. Rushing home in a panic, she found her husband looking at his young, beautiful ward, Sabrina, with a tenderness he never showed Chloe. When Ethan saw Chloe, the boy she had raised for five years hid behind Sabrina and screamed. "I want Aunt Sabrina to be my new mommy!" Julian didn't reprimand the boy. Instead, he coldly gaslit Chloe, calling her a lunatic. When Chloe tried to defend herself, Julian fiercely protected his mistress. He threatened to destroy Chloe's reputation, freeze her bank accounts, and take Ethan away forever if she dared to walk out the door. Looking at the three of them standing together, the horrifying truth finally clicked. The specific IVF clinic Julian insisted on. Sabrina's obsessive care during her pregnancy. Chloe hadn't just been cheated on; she had been used as an unwitting incubator for her husband and his mistress's child. The dutiful wife died in that moment. Chloe packed a single suitcase, secretly transferred all her pre-marital assets offshore, and collected three strands of hair for a DNA test. Leaving the divorce papers behind, she walked out of the gilded cage to begin her ruthless counterattack./0/80484/coverorgin.jpg?v=d74014efecfdbe358b7667321c48fa25&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Unwanted Wife's Reckoning
My life in Long Island seemed perfect: a loving husband, Ethan, a sweet daughter, Emily, and a home filled with warmth. But a year after my half-sister Chloe’s husband died, my mother, Susan, dropped a bombshell: she wanted *my* husband to impregnate Chloe, to provide a "blood connection" for the family. My horrified refusal was met with cold fury; I was imprisoned in my own home, my phone and laptop confiscated. Ethan, my husband, walked away into Chloe’s room, not looking back, becoming a puppet for their twisted agenda. For a grueling month, I listened to them "working" on their grotesque project, held captive in hell. The ultimate breaking point came when my vigilant daughter, Emily, bravely exposed their lie, causing Ethan to violently shove her, leaving her bleeding from a head wound. They twisted everything, painting *me* as the orchestrator of this perverse family scheme for an heir, even as my child bled from his casual cruelty. But their confidence was their undoing. As they planned to announce Chloe’s pregnancy as *mine* at Emily's birthday gala, a cold, hard rage solidified into a plan. I would make them pay. Every single one of them./1/115526/coverorgin.jpg?v=2dbf7a4e9984d2bc5eb6f59ccbcf61ee&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Cruel Billionaire's Unwanted Perfect Wife
Ellery was trapped in a suffocating marriage with Manhattan's most ruthless billionaire, Holland Sutton. She silently endured his blatant affairs, even measuring his mistress for custom lingerie at her own design studio. She drank foul, black fertility potions forced on her by his cruel mother, who treated her like nothing more than a breeding machine. She only tolerated the endless abuse because her own brother blackmailed her. He threatened to pull the plug on their dying mother's life support if Ellery didn't secure Holland's massive investment for his company. So, she swallowed her pride. She let Holland drag her around like a trophy, let his mother demand she quit her business, and allowed herself to be stripped of all dignity. But then, the devastating news broke. Holland's cousin had just welcomed a baby boy, securing the family inheritance. Ellery's womb was suddenly useless to the Sutton empire. The promised investment for her brother was instantly revoked. Every humiliation, every bitter potion she had choked down, was for absolutely nothing. She had been the perfect, silent puppet in a sick game she could never win. Yet, Holland simply dragged her to the closet and threw a black haute couture gown at her feet. "Put that on. Tonight, you are going to smile and show all of New York that my marriage is perfectly intact." Staring at the heavy dress on the floor, a cold, terrifying clarity replaced her despair. If the rules of his twisted game had changed, then so had hers./0/24949/coverorgin.jpg?v=20250124155310&imageMogr2/format/webp)
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He Chose Power, I Chose Love
I sacrificed my career as a violinist to save my fiancé, Graham, in a car crash that shattered my hand. For five years, I endured the pain and supported his political ambitions, believing in the future we planned to build around an old, historic theater. That future ended when I overheard him with his campaign manager, Kassidy. He was selling our theater to fund his campaign, dismissing my sacrifice as a mere "distraction." He called me a "drowned rat" one day, then posted a picture with Kassidy the next, captioned "#PowerCouple." He denied me money for a new physical therapy treatment, claiming the budget was tight, only to buy her an "exquisite" gift. He called her his "best asset." I was just a liability. My sacrifice wasn't an act of love to him; it was a "choice" I made that he now held over my head. So on the night of his career-defining gala, when he thought I was at home waiting for him, I prepared my own opening night. At the very theater he tried to steal from me./1/105827/coverorgin.jpg?v=2e728f52b80f0c253276a6f61a582ec4&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Surgeon's Revenge: No More Mrs. Montgomery
I’m a top surgeon at Mount Sinai, but at 432 Park Avenue, I’m just the invisible "placeholder wife" of Fletcher Montgomery. After three months of silence, I didn’t hear from my husband; I found out he was back in New York via a news alert tracking his private jet. When he finally walked into our penthouse, he didn't bring a greeting—he brought the scent of another woman’s perfume and a heart full of ice. He looked at me with pure revulsion, telling me he was "tired of looking at mistakes" before slamming the bedroom door in my face. The humiliation escalated the next morning when his mother cornered me with a divorce agreement, calling our seven-year marriage a "charity project" that had run its course. She reminded me I was a "peasant" who owed the Montgomerys for saving my reputation, even as I spent my days saving lives in the OR. At a family dinner on Long Island, Fletcher turned our private struggle into a public execution. In front of his entire elite clan, he sneered that I should stop fixing other people’s hearts and figure out why my own womb was a "wasteland." When I tried to defend myself, he dragged me into his car, only to kick me out on a dark, rain-slicked street in Queens. I stood there shivering in a thin blouse, without a phone or shoes, watching his taillights disappear while a group of men whistled at me from the shadows. I couldn't understand how seven years of devotion ended with me barefoot in the mud, or why the man I once loved now treated me like a stray he regretted picking up. The injustice burned hotter than the freezing rain, fueling a cold, surgical rage I hadn't felt in years. I eventually made it back to the penthouse, but I wasn't the submissive wife anymore. I rescued my cat from the freezing terrace, fired the malicious house manager, and deadbolted the master suite from the inside. When Fletcher’s assistant called, I gave him a simple message: "Tell him the locks have changed, and the war has officially begun."/1/113336/coverorgin.jpg?v=dde38e831d50524ffef3837c375349b2&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Pregnant Heiress: Rising From The Grave
I was kneeling on a Persian rug in my custom Vera Wang, staring at the headline that ended my life: my father had been arrested for a massive Ponzi scheme. I reached for my phone to call my groom, Claudius, but he disconnected the line. Then I heard the sound that stopped my heart—the deadbolt sliding home from the outside. Two floors down, my mother-in-law was already calculating the cost of my survival. To save the family’s stock prices, they decided a "grieving widower" was better than a disgraced bride. Claudius didn't even flinch. He downed a whiskey and gave the order to the staff. "Do it." The door swung open, but it wasn't my husband. It was the housekeeper and a maid wearing medical gloves. They pinned me down, ignoring my screams, and plunged a syringe of potassium chloride into my neck. They scattered pills across the floor, staging a perfect suicide while I felt my heart rhythm fail. "I'm pregnant. Please." I sobbed into the silk cushions, but they didn't pause. As the darkness swallowed the room, I realized my entire marriage had been a transaction, and I was now a liability to be liquidated. How could the man I loved sign my death warrant? Why was my best friend already wearing my engagement ring before my body was even cold? But they forgot one thing: I was an Elliott, and we always have a contingency plan. The poison didn't kill me; it only woke me up. When I stood up from that chaise lounge, the bride was gone. I was holding the secret ledger that would burn their empire to the ground. "Have a lovely audit."/0/85021/coverorgin.jpg?v=20260106205555&imageMogr2/format/webp)
My Fiance, My Sister, My Revenge
The lights of the Tech Innovators\' Gala blinded me as my adoptive father, Mr. Davis, prepared to announce the next big thing for Davis Tech-my innovation. Suddenly, a hidden truth struck me: it wasn't our shared future, but my fiancé Liam\'s and my stepsister Bethany\'s. They didn\'t know that every "brilliant" idea Bethany claimed as her own was stolen directly from my mind. But deep down, a terrifying realization festered. It wasn' t just intellectual theft. After witnessing Bethany effortlessly "replicate" my most private thoughts and memories, I understood the insidious nature of the "mind-sync" tech she used to violate my very consciousness. Having been publicly humiliated, stripped of my dignity, and confined to a mental institution in a past life that ended in fire. But I didn\'t wake up in hell; I woke up here, with a second chance, and a burning desire for revenge./1/100039/coverorgin.jpg?v=3986c740d8e4e3eea8964220c7245b10&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Magnate Who Claimed My Heart
To help my fiancé's tech startup, I poured my entire inheritance into his dream and even underwent ninety-nine humiliating hymen reconstruction surgeries to satisfy his bizarre fetish. But just one procedure away from our wedding, I overheard the truth. He called me his "cash cow" and the surgeries were just "pure theater" to lure in investors with a virgin fetish. He never loved me. He never even touched me. Instead, he drugged me with "protein shakes" to keep me compliant and paraded me in front of old perverts. His plan was to publicly humiliate me at the altar, expose my most private medical secrets, and then marry his childhood sweetheart, Kimberli. He was going to destroy me, dance on the ashes of my dignity, and leave me with nothing. But if he wanted a show, he was going to get one. Just not the one he planned. I picked up my phone and texted the one man I had blacklisted, the ruthless East Coast magnate Constantine Russell: "Crash my wedding. I need you."/0/41688/coverorgin.jpg?v=20230615183807&imageMogr2/format/webp)
