Modern Books for Women
Bestsellers Ongoing Completed
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The Jilted Wife's Billionaire Heiress Comeback
I woke up alone in a cold hospital room after a near-fatal car crash. My husband of three years, Bryant, claimed he was too busy with back-to-back meetings to visit me. But when I dragged my bruised body into the hallway, I caught him pinning his pregnant mistress against a vending machine. "As soon as my company IPOs next month, I'm dumping my useless wife." "She's so pathetic. She'd be living on the streets if it wasn't for my charity." For three years, Bryant and his mother had humiliated me for being an orphan, treating me like a penniless burden while he secretly bought a multi-million-dollar townhouse for his new family. A cold knot formed in my stomach. I had almost died in that wreckage, yet my husband was disgusted by my very existence, eagerly waiting to throw me away. But Bryant didn't know about the damp, sealed envelope the paramedics had recovered from my wrecked car. The DNA report inside proved I wasn't a nobody from the gutter. I was the biological daughter of the Beaumonts—New York's wealthiest, most ruthless billionaire dynasty. I didn't scream or confront them. Instead, I calmly pulled out my phone, recorded their affair in high definition, and dialed a Wall Street financier I hadn't spoken to in years. "I'm done playing the happy housewife. Pull his algorithmic backdoors and drain the accounts."/0/81268/coverorgin.jpg?v=174bc38323f75d8a058dda7a21bd9b31&imageMogr2/format/webp)
His Last Surprise
My seven-year relationship ended with a deepfake, meticulously crafted to ruin my indie game developer career. Then my mother's health rapidly declined, baffling doctors. My childhood best friend, Liam, emerged as my rock, supporting me through profound grief. Three years later, married and eight months pregnant with his child, I overheard a horrifying truth: Liam, my doting husband, orchestrated everything. He had my mother murdered for a lung transplant for my stepsister, Chloe, and engineered the deepfake to isolate me. I was just a pawn in his sick obsession with Chloe. The man whose child I carried was a monster. My life was a meticulously constructed lie. Then, Chloe, the fragile invalid, confessed more: Liam had caused my two previous miscarriages and planned to give our baby to her. When I confronted her, she staged a fake miscarriage, and my own father, encouraged by Liam, broke my hand for it. My art, my solace, shattered. The pain was unbearable, but a steel resolve hardened within me. How could the man I trusted, loved, orchestrate such depravity? Why was I, my mother, my children, mere collateral in his twisted game? The injustice burned. I ended my pregnancy, enduring unbearable agony, then placed the preserved fetus in an ornate gift box. I donned a prosthetic belly, began divorce proceedings, and secured a new identity. On the day of my "delivery," I walked away, leaving him a chilling surprise, ready to forge a new life as Grace Jordan, a survivor reborn./1/113807/coverorgin.jpg?v=f876cedf99ff2264040cdee593d8aa16&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Phantom Heiress: His Secret Obsession
After eighteen years, I finally returned to the billionaire Warren family, only to be treated like uneducated, rust-belt trash. My stepmother shoved me into a freezing, windowless room, and my half-sister Kelly bought me an $89 plastic dress to humiliate me at the family's high-society gala. When her petty bullying failed, Kelly took it a step further. Standing at the top of the grand marble staircase, she grabbed my wrist, screamed, and intentionally threw herself down the steps in front of hundreds of elite guests. Lying in a pool of her own blood, she pointed a trembling finger at me. "She pushed me! Corrie tried to kill me!" The entire ballroom erupted in disgust. The guests called me a psychopath. My biological father, purple with rage, raised his hand to strike me, while my stepmother hid a victorious smirk behind her fake tears. They thought they had perfectly framed the feral country bumpkin. But they had no idea who they were dealing with. They didn't know I was "Night God," the dark web's most legendary underground surgeon and hacker, currently being hunted by New York's most ruthless billionaire. I didn't panic. I didn't cry. I calmly pulled out my heavily encrypted phone and projected a crystal-clear, un-hackable security feed onto the ballroom's massive LED screen. "Let's see the replay," I said. Watching the color drain from their faces was just the beginning. I was going to tear this entire toxic family apart to find out who really burned my mother alive./1/102700/coverorgin.jpg?v=2e274acd524427f2de3ce85c950a2e51&imageMogr2/format/webp)
My Marriage: A Million Lies
My marriage to the cold New York tycoon, Eli Drake, was supposed to be an impossible love story. I was the rebellious artist who had chased him across continents, believing I' d found my soulmate. Then I overheard a conversation that shattered everything. Our three-year marriage was a lie, a charade designed to protect his fragile sister-in-law, Kala. I was just the "lightning rod," strong enough to take the hits meant for her. The worst part? He' d secretly had a vasectomy, letting me endure his family' s scorn for being "barren" while he knew the truth all along. It all clicked into place: the public humiliations, the framed financial crimes, the "accidents" that left me scarred. They systematically broke me, forcing me to give a piece of my own skin to heal Kala and staging a car crash that landed me in prison. Eli' s justification was always the same: "Kala is delicate. Not like you." He thought I was strong enough to take it, that my defiance was a tool he could use. He exiled me, thinking I was broken and forgotten. He was wrong. I reinvented myself as the celebrated artist 'Lark.' And when he came crawling back, begging for forgiveness on a global stage, I knew my moment had come. My revenge would be a masterpiece./1/106611/coverorgin.jpg?v=39fb3a6dbe1ba1bcd2231302d860131e&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Bought By The Man Who Hates Me
I sat at a mahogany table in River Oaks, clutching the strap of a pilled black dress from a life I’d lost five years ago. I was an exile in a world of old money, just trying to survive a dinner party I didn't belong in. Then the doors opened, and Baron Lowery walked in. He was no longer the boy I’d loved, but a powerful man with eyes like a storm front. When the host asked if we’d met, Baron didn't even blink. "I don't know her," he said. The erasure was a physical blow. His new girlfriend spent the night mocking my "quaint" legal aid work and calling me a washed-up gold digger. Baron didn't defend me; he watched my humiliation with a cold, predatory stillness. During a game of Truth or Dare, he stared me down, waiting for a confession. To protect his career and the secret of my father’s federal crimes, I looked him in the eye and told the ultimate lie: "No regrets." He retaliated by pinning me against a concrete wall in a dark stairwell, crushing his mouth to mine in a kiss that felt like a punishment. He told me I wasn't worth the effort and left me. I retreated to my real life—a moldy trailer and a blackmailer named Harvey who was forcing me into a marriage to save my father from prison. I thought I’d hit rock bottom until Baron’s silver Bentley pulled up to my slum. He didn't come to apologize. He flipped open a checkbook, scribbled fifty thousand dollars, and held it out like I was a common streetwalker. "One night," he demanded. "Do whatever I say, and it's yours." I looked at the man I’d sacrificed my entire soul for and realized he’d finally become the monster I'd tried to save him from. I shoved the check back in his face and ran into the rain, leaving the billionaire staring at the trailer park, unable to understand why the "gold digger" he hated so much wouldn't take his money./1/114120/coverorgin.jpg?v=d48d8d2d45c9ada8c336529892c386d2&imageMogr2/format/webp)
My Guardian's Fall, My Empire Rises
For ten years, I secretly loved my guardian, Ethan Hayes. After my family fell apart, he took me in and raised me. He was my entire world. On my eighteenth birthday, I gathered all my courage to confess my love to him. But his reaction was a fury I had never seen before. He swept my birthday cake to the floor and roared, "Are you insane? I am your GUARDIAN!" He then mercilessly tore the painting I had spent a year on-my confession-to shreds. Just days later, he brought home his fiancée, Chloe. The man who had promised to wait for me to grow up, who called me his brightest star, had vanished. My decade of desperate, burning love had only managed to burn myself. The person who was supposed to protect me had become the one who hurt me the most. I looked down at the NYU acceptance letter in my hand. I had to leave. I had to pull him out of my heart, no matter how much it hurt. I picked up the phone and dialed my father's number. Dad, I said, my voice hoarse, "I've decided. I want to come be with you in New York."/1/115528/coverorgin.jpg?v=5e60660009ccc60988b93286917879b1&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Sheltered By The Coldhearted Billionaire Boss
Overnight, Ella lost her family, her home, and her entire life. Discarded by the foster system, she was left shivering in the freezing mud outside her ruined estate. That was when Javier Shepherd appeared. The terrifyingly cold, powerful billionaire pulled her from the dirt, threw her into a massive glass penthouse, handed her an unlimited black card, and vanished overseas, leaving her in the hands of a cruel caretaker. The caretaker treated Ella like garbage, feeding her cheap, processed meals while using the black card to buy designer bags. The toxic food triggered a severe allergic reaction. Ella collapsed in the dark hallway, her throat swelling shut, gasping for air while the caretaker locked the door and turned up the TV. She almost died on that cold hardwood floor. When Javier found out, he ruthlessly destroyed the caretaker and sent her to prison. He guarded Ella's hospital bed with terrifying intensity and even moved into her apartment to stop her panic attacks. Yet, when Ella finally broke down crying over her dead parents, his eyes turned to ice. "Losing emotional control over a juvenile past is an inefficient waste of energy." He sneered, treating her grief like a bad financial investment. Ella was completely bewildered. Why did this dangerous man protect her so fiercely, yet hate her past so deeply? It wasn't until his cousin visited the hospital that the cruel truth was revealed. Javier wasn't saving her out of kindness. He had been obsessed with Ella's mother—his family's adopted daughter who ran away years ago. To him, Ella wasn't a person to be loved. She was just a replacement asset, a ghost of the woman he never got over./1/103326/coverorgin.jpg?v=54bedbb2f670fbb3db4962167d95c921&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Fired My Fiance, Claimed My Empire
I went undercover as a trainee in my own hotel, a secret pact with my fiancé, Greyson, the hotel's General Manager. We were supposed to be building an empire together. But our future ended the moment he chose another woman over me. He let a manipulative socialite named Imogen terrorize our staff. She deliberately scalded my hand with hot coffee, and when I stood up to her, Greyson publicly humiliated me. On a speakerphone call with the city's mayor, he demanded I apologize. "Apologize to Ms. Short," his voice boomed for the entire staff to hear. "This kind of disrespect is unacceptable." My fiancé, the man I loved, had just ordered me to kneel before the woman who assaulted me. So I dropped my disguise. I revealed my true identity as the heiress to the Kerr hotel empire and said, "Greyson Holden, you're fired. Get out of my hotel."/1/111148/coverorgin.jpg?v=256fc008c9dd278ff0d6dbffeb2fb2d3&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Too late Ex! I found my Mr. Right.
There's always a saying in the married world. "Love endures all." And I've always believed that lie. I've always fantasized that Andrea would someday understand what I felt about him. That if I endured a little longer, he would be kind to our children. I always hoped that we could end up happy. But I was wrong. It was all an illusion. Being in a cold and loveless marriage alone was pain. But being disrespectful toward me with my sister and treating our kids like they didn't matter, was hell. Andrea and I had been married for three years without warmth. His intended bride was supposed to be my step-sister, Lily. But it all came crashing down after a night of a drugged encounter that led to pregnancy. He was forced to choose me instead of my step-sister. Stupid me, I fell in love with him anyway. Even when I knew that he was having a thing with her. Even when he chose to humiliate me. I still believed I held a place in his heart. Until he threw a divorce agreement to my face. Tired and fed up with my cold and miserable life, I left with my kids. Guess what? I found my Mr. Right. A man who always stood by me. A man who my children proudly called Dad. Look who's curling on their knees now?/1/113651/coverorgin.jpg?v=01557e9247b29d4dc874e11cf7dbaa99&imageMogr2/format/webp)
My Unwanted Husband Is A Lethal Boss
To survive a lethal genetic breakdown, Holden, a legendary mercenary known as "Ghost," was forced into an arranged marriage with the wealthy heiress Julia Ramsey. But the moment he stepped into the lavish estate wearing an oil-stained jacket, he was treated like absolute garbage. Julia accused him of being a perverted stalker, pulling a gun on him and demanding he be thrown out. Even after Holden used a forbidden kinetic strike to save her grandfather from a fatal heart attack, the family still looked at him with pure disgust. Julia confined him to a cramped guest room, warning him to stay out of her life. To make matters worse, his other estranged fiancée, an elite military commander, barged into the penthouse just to throw an annulment in his face. "You are a pathetic, bottom-feeding parasite! You have no ambition. You hide in this woman's apartment like a stray dog. You are entirely beneath me." She mocked him in front of Julia, completely blind to the fact that Holden had just effortlessly incapacitated her Tier-1 operative with a single strike. They all thought he was just a greedy, low-class thug clinging to their wealth. They had no idea they were mocking an apex predator who commanded the city's underground and hunted mutant monsters for sport. When Julia forced him to attend a high-society yacht party as part of a trap to publicly humiliate him, Holden just smirked and took a sip of his cheap beer. He was more than happy to play along, already calculating exactly how he was going to tear their arrogant little world apart./1/100041/coverorgin.jpg?v=42b1d1cd0d12edf987fa5cd92eaa2dbd&imageMogr2/format/webp)
From Ashes To Altar: Her Vengeance
My mother was killed in a hit-and-run. My husband, Haywood, told me to drop the investigation. Then my father died because Haywood froze my assets, refusing to pay for his life-saving surgery. "My mother was murdered!" I screamed at him. "You want me to just... forget that?" He told me he knew who the driver was and threatened to ruin me if I didn't stop. He used his power to destroy my career, publicly shame me, and even had me thrown into a cellar full of venomous spiders, leaving me for dead. The final blow came when he forced me to lie on a live stream at my mother's grave, confessing to crimes I didn't commit. As I collapsed, he had his men scatter her ashes into the mud. I lost everything. My family, my dignity, my truth. They thought they had broken me. They were wrong. As I boarded a flight out of New York, I hit 'Go Live' on a global stream. "My name is Celina Alvarado," I began, my voice steady. "And I'm here to tell you everything."/0/83928/coverorgin.jpg?v=5d2a230e1fa678fec12ae5798f6fc503&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Her Billion-Dollar Betrayal
My hands were calloused from years on construction sites, every ache a testament to the future Gabrielle and I were building. That future shattered when she burst into tears, claiming our life savings – eighty thousand dollars – had vanished in a crypto scam. "It' s okay, Gabby," I told her, holding her tight, even as my world crumbled. I promised we' d make it back, taking extra shifts, my mom Maria even offering to help clean at the Rittenhouse Grand. Then the hospital called. My mom, Maria, was in the ER, her hands brutally crushed by a hammer. The hotel claimed she' d "accidentally spilled a drink" on a guest. My blood ran cold, a rage I never knew I possessed simmering beneath the surface. I stormed to the Rittenhouse, my fury set on finding the monster who did this. But hidden in a private dining room, I found Gabrielle. My wife. She was laughing, adorned in silk, handing a man a "bouquet" of rolled-up hundred-dollar bills. "That old hag who bumped into you?" she cooed, "I had security take care of her. They broke her fingers and threw her out." My mother. Not an accident, but a cruel, calculated act. And the $80,000? "It was for that custom suit of yours," she told the man, "the one the old cleaner ruined." My world didn't just tilt; it imploded. Everything I believed, everything I loved, was a lie. My mother, now maimed, screamed for me to save her bone fragments from being fed to dogs. And just moments later, Gabrielle was demanding tequila for her Four Seasons suite. How could the woman I vowed to love be such a monster? How could my mother' s agonizing pain be the cost of a suit and a twisted game? I carried her secrets, her fears, as the doctor confirmed her hands were permanently destroyed. But when Gabrielle, in the same hospital, offered to buy my dying mother' s organs for Ethan' s family, claiming she was a "disgruntled ex," then hung up on me because Ethan' s mother was critical, a cold resolve settled deep in my gut. What kind of hell was this, and how could I make her pay?/0/86744/coverorgin.jpg?v=6f7904351cf083f541f9d57399d6565b&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Picking Up The Relationship Trash
"Olivia, we need to break up." I said the words quietly. We were sitting on the couch we' d picked out together two years ago. Instead of concern, she laughed, thinking it was a joke because she forgot almond milk. Then her phone buzzed. It was Liam. Again. "Can we not do this right now? It's Liam. He needs me." It was always Liam. On our anniversary, the night my grandmother died. He always had a crisis only Olivia could solve. He arrived less than twenty minutes later, looking pale and distressed. He saw me, and his voice, laced with fake vulnerability, faltered. "Olivia said you guys were having a talk. I can go if this is a bad time. I just… I had another panic attack." He looked at Olivia, playing the victim, making me the bad guy. I' d seen this a hundred times: the late-night calls, the fabricated emergencies. I felt a snap inside me. "You' re always having a panic attack, Liam," I blurted. "You strategically dismantle. You make sure you are always the priority." Liam recoiled, his face crumbling. Olivia' s face hardened, disappointment aimed squarely at me. "Noah, stop it. You know he struggles. How can you be so cruel?" She moved to Liam' s side, placing a protective arm around him. She was comforting him. From me. My heart dissolved. I was the outsider. "I' m tired of coming in second place to him. I' m tired of being the bad guy for wanting a partner, not a part-time caregiver for your friend." I grabbed my bag. As I walked out, Olivia' s voice, thick with disbelief, followed me. "You' re really leaving? Over this? You' re just going to throw everything away because you' re jealous?" I stopped but didn' t turn. "It was already thrown away, Liv. I' m just the one finally picking up the trash." I closed the door./1/115372/coverorgin.jpg?v=5ebe5ae4e7e0bec5615975b8de2bba1a&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Reclaiming Her Crown: The CEO's Sudden Bride
Stepping out of the women's correctional center, Karli took her first breath of freedom in three years. But the luxury SUV waiting for her didn't bring her home. Instead, her adoptive parents tossed a prenuptial agreement onto her lap. They demanded she marry a violently unhinged, disfigured man so their company could secure a massive commercial deal. When she refused, her adoptive mother slapped her hard across the face. The blow brought back the suffocating nightmare from three years ago-how they had drugged her, framed her for a crime she didn't commit, and sent her to prison just so her stepsister could steal her fiancé. Now, to break her again, her adoptive father ordered his bodyguards to drag her into the estate's freezing, pitch-black basement. "You can rot in the dark without food or water until you sign that paper!" Sitting on the damp cement, bleeding and shivering, a white-hot fury burned away Karli's panic. They had stolen her youth, her reputation, and her grandfather's inheritance. She would rather die than be their sacrificial lamb again. She smashed the basement window with a hammer, dragged her bleeding body through the shattered glass, and sprinted blindly into the stormy night. Under the flickering neon sign of a convenience store, she grabbed the sleeve of a terrifyingly cold stranger. "Are you single? Marry me right now." She just needed a legal marriage to escape her family, entirely unaware she had just proposed to the most ruthless billionaire in Chicago./1/109271/coverorgin.jpg?v=20d7ef3b847590b7060ccbd8d6c21993&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Surrogate Wife's Revenge Ends In Checkmate
At the wedding, a video flashed: Lindsay was kidnapped, dress ripped. Amid the guests' jeers, Tyler, her fiancé, didn't waver, insisting on marrying her. She clung to him as rescue and spent three years devoted. Then she overheard him say, "I married her for a child. That clip? I staged it. Break her dignity and she'll worship you." Her world cracked. The warmth was an act; she was a tool, a mere surrogate to bear his child. Lindsay wiped her tears, sought Tyler's rival, Ashton, and said, "Help me bring him down. Name your price." The gentle wife vanished, replaced by a cold avenger-until Tyler realized she was beyond his reach./0/84554/coverorgin.jpg?v=20260106204840&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Steel & Scars: Revenge in Prison
For ten years, I put my ambitious architecture career on hold for my husband Mark, playing the dutiful wife and mother. Finally, with our son older and Mark's company stable, I returned to my dream, leading a monumental project, the Henderson building. But a fabricated crisis, orchestrated by Mark and his high school sweetheart Sarah, derailed everything; they framed me for corporate espionage and had me arrested, landing me in jail. Alone in a stark cell, Mark offered me a cruel deal: give up my son, my home, and all our assets, or face years in prison. They thought they' d broken me, but signing those papers was just the first step in reclaiming my life and making them pay./1/102701/coverorgin.jpg?v=93cd1480525534bb692a3a0de5cc3030&imageMogr2/format/webp)
They Stole Everything: Now I Take
For seven years, I was a prisoner in a wheelchair, and my husband, Carter, was my devoted savior. After the accident that stole my legs, he fed me, bathed me, and carried me. He was my entire world. Then I discovered his secret: he was having an affair with Jade, the daughter of the man who crippled me. My "recovery" smoothies weren't for healing; they were laced with sedatives to keep me weak and dependent. When I confronted them, Jade pushed me down the stairs. As I lay bleeding on the cold marble floor, I felt a sharp, agonizing pain. I was losing our baby. Carter looked down at me with disgust. "You're pathetic, Alayna. Stay here and rot." He walked out, leaving me to die. But I didn't die. My family found me. And as I slowly, miraculously, learned to walk again, the broken wife he knew was gone. They took my legs, my child, and my trust. Now, I would take everything from them./0/80487/coverorgin.jpg?v=60c95df3e4a1efe2f2238174bcee976f&imageMogr2/format/webp)
A Sister's Unyielding Fury
My parents and brother were heroes, decorated with Medals of Freedom and a Medal of Honor for their profound sacrifice to this country. After their deaths, all my sister Isabella and I had was each other, and the fragile hope that she’d find happiness with her seemingly dependable fiancé, Ryan. But that hope shattered when a frantic call sent me to the ER: Isabella was brutally beaten, Ryan claiming she "fell," though the doctor confirmed blunt force trauma. The real horror began when Ryan’s wealthy mistress, Victoria Jenkins, confronted me, admitting she was Isabella’s attacker and gloating about her power. Ryan, the man who swore to protect Isabella, utterly betrayed her, backing Victoria’s "accident" lie and accepting her family’s blood money to dismiss the assault. The system failed us: police ignored my pleas, lawyers found their hands tied, and Victoria, untouchable because of her family’s influence, literally threw money onto Isabella’s bruised hospital bed, mocking her. Then came the kidnapping, the beating, the chilling blackmail: Victoria flaunted a vile video of Isabella and forced Ryan to confess an even darker secret—he’d previously pushed Isabella, causing a devastating miscarriage years ago. My sister’s spirit broke, extinguishing the last flicker of hope in her eyes, leaving me rage-filled and desperate for true justice in a system that seemed utterly rigged. How could the ideals my family died for be so easily trampled by the corrupt and powerful? But as I looked at our heroes' medals, a cold, unyielding resolve ignited within me; Victoria thought she'd won, but she gravely underestimated a sister with nothing left to lose. We wouldn’t disappear. We would make ourselves impossible to ignore, demanding this country live up to the sacrifices made for its freedom./1/106612/coverorgin.jpg?v=6a40c75ca5f384edb2df74eb286604c4&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Secret Wife Of Hollywood's Monk
Ivy wasn't just another D-list actress struggling to survive in the shark-infested waters of Hollywood. She was secretly Mrs. Holt Nicholson, the wife of the world’s most famous, elusive, and supposedly celibate movie star. The secret that kept her safe became her cage during a high-profile charity gala. A loose thread on the red carpet sent her stumbling, and her hands landed directly on Holt’s crotch in front of a thousand flashing cameras. By the next morning, Ivy was the most hated woman on the planet. The hashtag #IvySnowMolester trended number one worldwide. Her L’Oreal deal was dead, her upcoming series fired her, and her rival, Kennedy Gilmore, led a public crusade to bury her for good. Paparazzi laid siege to her apartment while fans leaked her address on the dark web. She wasn't just losing her career; she was being hunted like a predator. The world saw a violation, but Ivy knew the truth—it was a freak accident. Holt had even gripped her arm to steady her, a detail the cameras conveniently missed. Now, she was trapped between a mob demanding her head and a husband whose silence felt like a death sentence. Desperate to save her, Ivy’s agent told a massive lie: they weren't married, they were "cousins." Ivy expected a lawsuit from Holt’s shark lawyers, but instead, the superstar publicly claimed her as family and snubbed her enemies. He didn't serve her divorce papers; he ordered her to move into his high-tech fortress to prep for the role of a lifetime, proving that being "family" was far more dangerous than being a stranger./1/114121/coverorgin.jpg?v=93f1972ea67cf6d185c64b7fd55bebab&imageMogr2/format/webp)
