Modern Books for Women
Bestsellers Ongoing Completed
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Love On Ice: Don't Leave Me, My Charming Liar
Ethan always viewed Nyla as a compulsive liar, while she saw him as aloof and insensitive. Nyla had cherished the notion that she was dear to Ethan, yet she felt coldly rejected when she realized her place in his heart was insignificant. No longer trying to break through his coldness, she stepped back, only for him to alter his approach unexpectedly. She challenged him, "If you trust me so little, why keep me around?" Ethan, who had once carried himself with pride, now stood before her with a humble plea. "Nyla, I've made mistakes. Please don't walk away from me."/0/71256/coverorgin.jpg?v=9c1984c06e2e4179c9f747bd0f607fcb&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Medical Martial Legend
Michael Yang, the bar waiter, was kind-hearted to save people but was humiliated instead. On the verge of death, he inadvertently got the inheritance of the immortal doctor and started a different life from then on. He obtained the miraculous medical skills of Chinese medicine, and used it to cure diseases and save lives. He was getting stronger and stronger, all kinds of beauties wanted to gather around him, and he had become the person most hated by men. They wanted to assassinate him, but they didn't know that in addition to medical skills, Michael also obtained super martial arts. He used silver needles to save and used martial arts to kill evil people. Not only did he sweep away people's contempt and ridicule, but he also won the heart of a beautiful woman./1/113110/coverorgin.jpg?v=18efeb16c2c3d196a20279b13c3be270&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Lie Behind His Perfect Life
For three years, my husband Hudson convinced everyone I was crazy. My parents. Our friends. Even my own therapist. He said my suspicions were just anxiety. PTSD from our miscarriage. That I needed my medication and a good night's sleep. But a pink butterfly hair clip in his car told a different story. It wasn't mine. And we don't have children. When I confronted him, he sighed with practiced patience—the same sigh he'd perfected over three years of making me doubt my own mind. "It belongs to a client's daughter," he said, reaching for my pills. "Your anxiety is flaring up again." I almost believed him. I always almost believed him. But this time, I didn't back down. I invited his mistress and their three-year-old son to our family dinner. With the DNA test results in my purse, I was ready to burn his perfect world to the ground. He thought he could gaslight me forever. He was wrong./1/107270/coverorgin.jpg?v=470502897e35b74a4503af64a9fe23eb&imageMogr2/format/webp)
My Son's Death, His Cruel Betrayal
For seven years, I gave up my life as a genius engineer to be the perfect wife for my husband, Jonathan, a U.S. Senator. But when our five-year-old son drowned, he didn't comfort me. He comforted his adopted sister, Hailey, and blamed me for our son's death. At the wake, he stood by as his family beat me, calling me a murderer. He watched them shove my head into a freezing pond, forcing me to feel the same terror our son felt in his last moments. His protection was always for Hailey, never for me. Then I learned the horrifying truth. Jonathan was there when our son fell in the water. He saw him struggling, but he chose to comfort a panicking Hailey first. He let our son die. So I filed for divorce in secret and vanished into a classified research project. But when he tracked me down, begging for a second chance in front of his new colleagues, I played a recording for everyone to hear. It was Hailey's voice, gleefully admitting that Jonathan had chosen her over his own dying child./0/79043/coverorgin.jpg?v=b651e01d6ca1bdce60e5d7504b38c337&imageMogr2/format/webp)
My Husband's Old Flame Gave Me My Daughter, Then Stole My Son
My picturesque New England life shattered the moment the school nurse called. Lily, my bright, artistic daughter, AB-positive? Impossible. I'm O-negative. The doctor's genetics lesson was a punch to the gut: Lily couldn't be mine. Then, the real earthquake hit. Overhearing Grant, my devoted husband, revealed a sinister conspiracy. Bea Baker, his old flame, was back, and Lily was her daughter through a twisted surrogacy plot. Grant was secretly bankrolling her silence. The betrayal deepened. He'd been drugging me, keeping me from conceiving. My 'perfect' life was a lie, meticulously crafted by a man I barely knew. He'd even developed Bea's family farm into a soulless mall, crushing her family in the process. Fury and disgust warred within me. Bea knew too much about my 'miscarriage.' She hinted at Northwood Pharma, experimental testing and my stolen baby used for science. Grant's face, smiling, taunting, haunted me. He was meeting Bea tomorrow. The affair was current, not just old history. He wants her to live with us! This charade ends now. My quest for truth had just begun. How deep does this rabbit hole go? And what happened to my own baby? Retribution is coming./1/102079/coverorgin.jpg?v=486ae6fa60474bbd23b61d2a45560a7e&imageMogr2/format/webp)
My Peace Beyond His Regret
My boyfriend, Damien, chose a Vegas trip with his toxic best friend, Branden, over our relationship, ignoring my ultimatum that if he walked out, we were over. He walked. A week later, he was back, dangling a designer handbag as a peace offering. But while he was partying, I was in the ER with a severe, stress-induced anxiety attack. The final blow came when I saw Damien had 'liked' Branden' s social media post mocking my pain. He stood outside my apartment, laughing with Branden, calling me "dramatic" and "clingy," completely unaware I had already packed his entire life into boxes. "What... what is all this, Cecil?" he stammered, his face turning from shock to rage as he saw his belongings ready for the movers. "What have you done?" I looked him dead in the eye, my voice cold and steady. "We're over, Damien. So, are these boxes going to your place, or to Branden's?"/0/83261/coverorgin.jpg?v=e30db038d961759d8b3257c80508f431&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Stale Beer, Sweet Vengeance
The Rusty Mug was a blur of noise and stale beer tonight. Game night, loud as ever. I wiped down the bar, going through the motions, surrounded by the same faces, the same routine. But the man behind the bar wasn't the same Jake anymore. A sudden shriek split the air near the back restrooms-a woman' s voice, sharp and furious. Whispers slithered through the crowd: "A teacher," "caught with another man." My co-bartender, Mark Olsen, a grin twisting his face, looked directly at me. With fake concern, he asked, "Hope it's not your Emily. She' s too sweet to be messing around, right?" He didn't know I knew exactly who it was. Nor did he know I' d already lived this agonizing chapter. Last time, Chloe, his fiancée, caught red-handed, had played the victim, begging sympathetic Emily for help. Kind, trusting Emily, rushed to her side. Only for Chloe to throw her under the bus, fabricating texts, spinning vicious rumors. The public shame, the loss of her job, broke Emily. She killed herself. Blinded by grief and rage, I confronted Mark, just before he shoved me down the back stairs. I remembered the sickening crack, and then… nothing. Until I woke up, months ago, back in this very life, this exact day now approaching. My Emily, gone forever. My own life, stolen. Why? Why had they gone unpunished, while we paid the ultimate price? This was my impossible second chance. To save Emily. To save myself. And this time, they were going to regret every single unforgivable thing they had ever done./1/115706/coverorgin.jpg?v=3217db780773472a3ca1defe4e60cca3&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Genius Heiress' Ruthless Divorce Revenge
Harlow had endured three years of a loveless marriage, funding her husband Beck's life and secretly writing the AI code that saved his failing company. But when she walked into her family's private memorial library, she found Beck having sex with his mistress, Fallon, right on top of her late father's antique desk. Instead of showing guilt, Beck proudly announced that Fallon had given him a son and heir. He demanded Harlow accept the bastard child and stay married just to maintain his perfect public image. To make matters worse, Fallon was actually a corporate spy from a rival company, actively stealing Harlow's family legacy while Beck willingly handed over the company secrets. When Harlow demanded an immediate divorce, Beck laughed in her face. "I will never sign the divorce papers! I will drag this out in court until you bleed dry!" Looking at her father's crushed pocket watch and the two parasites desecrating her sacred home, Harlow's shock turned into a freezing, absolute clarity. How could she have spent three years supporting a selfish hypocrite who would so ruthlessly destroy her parents' legacy? Harlow calmly packed her bags, threw his bespoke suits in the trash, and walked out the door. She went straight to Fitzgerald Monroe, the most ruthless billionaire corporate lawyer in New York, ready to use her secret identity to make Beck lose everything./0/92995/coverorgin.jpg?v=8ca0d669274654502798e7d0b8c9b3ed&imageMogr2/format/webp)
His Daughter, His Mistake
My husband, Austin Rogers, had been missing for five years, only to return with a royal illegitimate child. The first thing he did was burst into my daughter Joanna's room, wrap her in a blanket, and throw her into the sauna. His sister, Rosita, sneered as she poured a whole box of leeches inside and locked the door. I rushed over, begging them to let my daughter out. They glared at me with malice. "How dare you plead? The little princess bruised her leg yesterday. If her mother finds out, we'll all be in deep trouble. You're just envious! You want us to stay trapped in this miserable place with you forever." At that moment, I finally understood that they intended to use my daughter's life to appease that Slaka Queen. But their plan was doomed to fail. The person being bitten by leeches inside wasn't my daughter. They were about to face the consequences of their actions./1/106622/coverorgin.jpg?v=098e3f084e0e3fa46bf501b74f9cc854&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Bitten By The Billionaire: My Darkest Night
I spent three weeks scrubbing carbonized grease off woks at the Jade Garden, hiding my elite tactical training behind raw knuckles and a practiced, submissive stutter. My mission was the only thing keeping me sane: finding my sister, Elena, who vanished into thin air after her phone last pinged near the city’s Restricted Sector. The breakthrough came when my boss, a bully named Uncle Wong, forced me to take a delivery to 101 Blackwood Drive—a high-security fortress where the drivers whispered that people went in and never came back right. It was a geographic match for Elena's last known location, but as I rode my battered scooter toward the massive steel gates, I realized I wasn't just investigating a lead; I was walking into a spider's web. The mansion was a monolith of cold concrete and military-grade surveillance, owned by Hugh Bradford, a billionaire who controlled the city’s elite like puppets. During my delivery, the magnetic locks hissed shut, the lights died, and I was plunged into absolute darkness with a predator who didn't want my money. Bradford pinned me against a stainless steel counter and did something unthinkable: he sank his teeth into my shoulder, using the rhythm of my frantic pulse to anchor his own fractured mind. I escaped with a bruised neck and a thousand-dollar "tip," feeling the crushing weight of his violation and the terrifying realization that my "clumsy immigrant" act hadn't fooled him for a second. I didn't understand why a man of his power would treat a delivery girl like a biological drug, or what he had done to the other girls who had vanished behind those black glass walls. My heart hammered against my ribs as I realized I was being hunted by a man who could buy and sell my life a thousand times over. "You're terrified," he had whispered in the dark, and for the first time in years, I wasn't faking it. Back in my apartment, I found a note tucked inside the cash that confirmed my worst fears: "For the inconvenience. See you Tuesday." He thinks he’s found a new toy to play with, but he just gave me the one thing I needed to find my sister—an invitation to go back inside and finish what I started./1/113111/coverorgin.jpg?v=fe21e4e5a8945ed6d5e6415ab821e1bc&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Partner Who Stole My Life
For fifteen years, I sacrificed everything for Innovatech, the tech company my partner Grayson and I built from nothing. I lived on a shoestring budget, believing every penny saved was a step toward our shared future. Then a property deed for a mansion arrived, addressed to Mr. and Mrs. Carrillo. The Mrs. wasn't me. I found him with his secret wife, Kacey. The truth unraveled: a six-year affair, a secret marriage, and a baby on the way. He had gaslit me into living frugally while using my sweat equity to fund her lavish lifestyle. He claimed he did it for me that he married a younger woman to carry a child because I was getting older. My entire life with him, my sacrifices, my love it was all a calculated deception. But he forgot one thing: the betrayal clause in our company's founding documents. I took everything. The company. The money. The future he stole from me. He thought losing his fortune was his punishment. He was wrong. Because for the next fifteen years, he did everything to win me back. Letters. Billboard apologies. A bestselling memoir. A scholarship in my name. Even a café across from my office, hoping I'd walk in. I never did. And on the night I received my Lifetime Achievement Award, he appeared on stage with one last letter. I took it. I read it. Then I tore it into pieces and let them fall at his feet. Some betrayals can never be forgiven. Some loves can never be reclaimed. This is the story of how he spent a lifetime learning that lesson./0/81315/coverorgin.jpg?v=357c4f7d5adfae8f06b4d1ab4b74df6d&imageMogr2/format/webp)
A Mother's Cold Resolve
My 8-year-old daughter, Lily, was diagnosed with a rare, life-threatening heart condition, needing immediate, exorbitantly expensive treatment. The doctor' s words were a blow, but the real shock came when I learned our entire savings were gone. My mother-in-law, Carol, had squandered over a hundred thousand dollars on pseudo-scientific "wellness" products from a charismatic online guru, Tiffany Hayes, believing they'd "cure" Lily and bring "good fortune." Yet, I said nothing. I even "sold" our townhouse to generate $500,000 for Lily's care, depositing it into a new account. Predictably, within 72 hours, Carol blew almost all of it-including a $200,000 "Bio-Resonance Chamber"-on more of Tiffany's schemes. My husband, Mark, complicit, claimed to have tried to stop her. Lily' s 'symptoms,' conveniently coached by Mark and Tiffany, seemed to worsen dramatically. Everyone witnessed my unsettling calm, mistaking it for passivity or naiveté. How could I endure such betrayal? Such financial recklessness at the expense of our daughter' s life? But behind my placid exterior, a cold calculation was at play. For months, I had been watching them, quietly gathering every piece of evidence. The moment Lily 'collapsed' and we rushed to the hospital, I knew my moment had arrived. As Mark frantically begged me to call my wealthy parents for a bailout, and a journalist live-streamed, I looked directly at him and stated, "No money, no treatment. I won't lower my lifestyle for this." The outrage was immediate. They thought I was a monster. But what they didn't know was this was exactly what I wanted them to think./0/62497/coverorgin.jpg?v=a6d80cb22138ec374df09f2c5e632e46&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Reborn: Escaping the Shackles
Here's the translation: "I poured my heart and soul into raising my daughter, only to be seen as controlling her. She accidentally pushed me down the stairs, leading to my death. When I got a second chance at life, I decided I no longer wanted to be a 'good mom.' My daughter took the opportunity to go to her 'good dad,' but after experiencing everything, she realized it wasn't the paradise she had imagined. She returned once again, but I knew her nature was hard to change. She was threatened by her dad to send me to an old man, but I was already prepared. In the end, I sent both her and her 'good dad' to prison."/0/84884/coverorgin.jpg?v=c87161adb656415e34cb0c15de7e023f&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Erased, Not Forgotten: Reclaimed
For ten years, Sterling Manor was my world, every brushstroke a prayer to a father who vanished, leaving behind whispers of a hidden masterpiece. I poured my life into its decayed bones, chasing approval he never gave, believing I was restoring our family's legacy. Then, Sterling, the manor' s owner-the vulture who picked at other people's legacies-announced his fiancée, Lily. He gave her my decade of sacrifice, my meticulous work, as a party favor, publicly humiliating me as "just a restorer" to launch her career. He stripped me of everything: my credit, my dignity, even my small apartment within those walls. Lily, with a calculated innocence, cemented the lie, painting me as an "intense" threat, a "fired" employee. My name-my only mark on a decade of work-was painted over, erased. "Just a restorer." The words echoed, burning with the injustice of his betrayal. Was my life wasted chasing a ghost? A legacy that wasn't mine to claim? The truth felt like a bitter pill. But a cold, clear resolve settled within me. I walked out of that house, but not without my father's hidden sketchbook. It was time for Sterling' s meticulously crafted world to crumble, and for me to reclaim what was truly mine./1/113760/coverorgin.jpg?v=d138ca81b80805b82fa561558a0f2b22&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Contract Marriage With The Genius Heiress
Alysia lay on the freezing operating table, moments away from donating her kidney to her brother's fiancée. But as the anesthesia set in, a violent shock tore through her brain, awakening agonizing memories of a thousand brutal deaths across a thousand past lifetimes. She suddenly realized her family's true plan. Her brother and his fiancée weren't just taking her organ; they were secretly plotting to declare her mentally unfit post-surgery to steal her entire trust fund. When Alysia abruptly stopped the procedure and exposed the fiancée's kidney failure as the result of severe drug abuse, her family's reaction was chilling. Her father didn't care about the truth or the law. He ordered his bodyguards to lock Alysia up until she agreed to the surgery, while her brother threatened to freeze her assets and seize her late mother's penthouse. "You have no heart, Alysia. You don't deserve the Kent name," her aunt spat in disgust. For lifetimes, she had kept her head down, taking the blame and sacrificing everything for a family that viewed her as nothing more than a disposable blood bag and a financial pawn. The resignation that had clouded her eyes for so long vanished, replaced by the absolute, zero-degree cold of a glacier. Ripping the IV from her hand and leaving her family in stunned silence, Alysia walked straight out of the hospital. She had exactly forty-six hours to find a husband to secure her inheritance, and she knew exactly which ruthless billionaire CEO to target to help her burn the Kent family to the ground./0/88453/coverorgin.jpg?v=a1bbf69b16457647d6c7e1d0d860a411&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Back For Blood: My Vengeful Comeback As A Billionaire Tycoon
Cornered, Melinda cut a desperate deal with the man she most hated-Declan, the ex‑husband who bankrupted her family for another woman's revenge. Days were spent enduring that woman's petty cruelties; nights found her submitting to Declan's cold desire while she hunted the truth. He later watched, unmoved, as his beloved pushed Melinda from a rooftop. Years on, she returned a self‑made billionaire, child in arms, and crushed his fortune. Choked with emotion, he begged, "I was wrong-remarry me." Looping her arm through his rival's, she answered, "Never." Declan looked at the miniature version of himself in her arms and shattered./0/79044/coverorgin.jpg?v=ade74d58426aec6da17c44db8d591f2f&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Burnt for Her, Saved by Amnesia
I woke up in the hospital with a fractured tibia and a hell of a headache, but the worst part? Amnesia. They said I'd forgotten someone important, but when my buddy Matt showed up, his face etched with worry, and asked, "You really don't remember Emily?", I drew a blank. Emily who? Turns out, pre-accident me was obsessed with Matt's sister, Emily. Chased her for two years straight, showering her with flowers, gifts, and even redesigning my whole damn apartment in hopes of impressing her. Total cringe. The kicker? She wasn't interested. Cold, distant, and according to Matt, I was bordering on stalker territory. My phone was filled with creepy candid shots of her, and my notes app looked like a stalker's diary. Likes, dislikes, journal entries detailing every rejection. I was horrified. This wasn't love; this was a damn train wreck. Who was this pathetic dude? Then, standing at the edge of a new life, my mom mentioned Chloe, a childhood friend, and a potential architectural project back home at her family's farm. Ditching my city life and all those toxic memories, I vowed to never love her again. Forget getting my memories back; I was starting fresh. This time, with someone genuine./1/117329/coverorgin.jpg?v=1583f3559768a35c2964899aba9d5edb&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Reborn Heiress: The Billionaire's Deadly Vow
I gave up everything to be the perfect fiancée to Jemal and the grateful sister to Claire. But as I lay dying on a cold warehouse floor, I watched them passionately kiss over my bleeding body. "Damn it, look at my suit. This was custom," Jemal complained, flicking my blood from his cuff. "Oh, don't be such a baby. She was always so gullible," Claire laughed, mocking my dying gasps. They admitted every promise and sisterly defense was a lie to steal my inheritance and save his bankrupt company. As my soul detached, the warehouse doors burst open. It was Braxton Shields, the ruthless Wall Street titan whose arranged engagement I had broken off years ago. The famously cold billionaire fell to his knees in my blood, his stoic mask shattering into raw agony. He gently cleaned my face, pulled out a hidden photo of me, and kissed my cold forehead. "I'm sorry, Alex. I was too late. I should have never let you go." Without hesitation, he drank a vial of poison and slumped dead beside me. The shock of his ultimate devotion and my own foolish blindness tore my soul apart. Why did I choose my murderers over the man who loved me enough to die for me? Opening my eyes again, I was back in my eighteen-year-old body. It was the exact day I was welcomed back into the toxic Vargas family from foster care. This time, they would all pay./1/101431/coverorgin.jpg?v=85f3f1e8a02a90a42fe70602f00cd059&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Obsessive Husband's Golden Prison
After three years as his secret, I finally got the fairytale wedding I'd always dreamed of. My husband, Addison Parker, was finally free from his family's control, and he chose me. Carrying his twin babies, I flew across the country to surprise him on a business trip, only to overhear him talking to his best friend. "She's too sweet," he said, his voice casual. "Like chewing gum that's lost its flavor." His words shattered my world. The man who knelt at my feet, tears in his eyes, promising me forever, saw me as nothing more than a bland convenience. The betrayal was so absolute, so cruel, that I walked into a hospital the next day and terminated the pregnancy. When he found out, his love twisted into a dark obsession. He locked me in our penthouse, a prisoner in a gilded cage. "I could give you something," he whispered, his eyes gleaming with a terrifying light. "Something to make you forget. To make you happy again." He planned to drug me, to erase my memories and my pain, turning me into his perfect, smiling doll forever. But he underestimated me. I had a plan of my own./1/102080/coverorgin.jpg?v=8e73245c151a4f40c90475d936ef0f64&imageMogr2/format/webp)
