Modern Books for Women
Bestsellers Ongoing Completed
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The 100-Point Plan For His Regret
For three years, I documented the slow death of my marriage in a black journal. It was my 100-point divorce plan: for every time my husband, Blake, chose his first love, Ariana, over me, I deducted points. When the score hit zero, I would leave. The final points vanished the night he left me bleeding out from a car crash. I was eight weeks pregnant with the child we had prayed for. In the ER, the nurses frantically called him-the star surgeon of the very hospital I was dying in. "Dr. Santos, we have a Jane Doe, O-negative, bleeding out. She's pregnant, and we're about to lose them both. We need you to authorize an emergency blood transfer." His voice came over the speaker, cold and impatient. "I can't. My priority is Miss Whitfield. Do what you can for the patient, but I can't divert anything right now." He hung up. He condemned his own child to death to ensure his ex-girlfriend had resources on standby after a minor procedure./0/84418/coverorgin.jpg?v=20260106204644&imageMogr2/format/webp)
When Silence Plays The Melody
"Molly's recital is her last dream, Jocelyn. Your hands are a perfect match." That' s what Ethan said, calm as if asking for salt, not for me to give up my entire future. We were in his pristine apartment, my cello, my ticket out, leaning against the wall. He wanted me to sacrifice my livelihood, my identity, my very hands, for his childhood friend, Molly, who claimed a rare nerve condition was destroying her dream of being a pianist. I refused, firmly. His handsome face tightened. "Don' t be selfish. I' ve given you everything. A good life, a way out of that hellhole you came from. The least you can do is help my friend." Before I could process the betrayal in his words, to realize I was just a charity case and the bill was due, he invited me to a "support party" for Molly. I drank the glass he handed me, and that was my last clear memory. I woke up on a leather couch, my left hand wrapped in bandages, a sharp, chemical smell in the air. Panic seized me as two of Ethan's friends held me down. Molly stood over me, triumphant, pointing at my bandaged hand. "Guess you won' t be playing that cello anytime soon." I looked at Ethan, my heart shattering, as he stood by the window, his back to me. He had let them cut into me. He had orchestrated this. I tried to move my fingers; they were numb. A deep, terrifying tremor started in my palm, shaking my entire arm. They violently ripped away my chance, my scholarship, my entire life. Why would he do this to me? How could the man I loved, my supposed savior, betray me so cruelly? I was left on the apartment floor, concussed from his shove, my dreams reduced to a tremor and a hospital bill. But I refused to be disposable. He said I was nothing without him, but he was wrong. I grabbed my phone, and for the first time, I chose myself./0/86921/coverorgin.jpg?v=20260106213029&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Love's Cruel Game, A Second Chance
The last thing I saw in my previous life was the Auctioneer's cold face. My sister, Sarah, had just jumped from a rooftop, her manipulated private photos still flickering on a giant screen for a jeering crowd. They wanted to steal my perfect SAT score, my family's fortune, and our future. All orchestrated by the girl I loved, Ashley Stone, and her boyfriend, Kyle Peterson. Then, I opened my eyes. I was back in the same opulent ballroom, and Sarah was alive, terrified, clutching her hands in front of her. The same giant, blank screen loomed, ready to display her photos. My world had reset, but the nightmare was beginning anew. As Kyle began to bid on Sarah's "private collection"-a humiliating ten thousand dollars-my stomach churned. He then grandiosely offered a million, claiming to protect her honor, a sickening charade that infuriated me. In my past life, I' d been bled dry trying to outbid him; this time, I knew his true motive: my perfect SAT score, the real prize that would elevate Kyle to scholar status. "One million dollars from Mr. Peterson. Do I hear another bid?" the Auctioneer announced. But I knew this wasn't about money alone; it was about abstract assets: reputations, futures, lives. I also knew that the system, once a bid was accepted, was absolute. The memory of Ashley, in my past life, whispering to Kyle, "With his score, you'll get into Harvard. We'll be unstoppable," fueled my resolve. They had repaid my family's kindness with ultimate betrayal. "Ethan?" Sarah whispered, her voice pleading. "Do something." I stepped forward, facing my tormentors. Kyle' s smug face awaited my surrender, oblivious to the storm I was about to unleash./1/115549/coverorgin.jpg?v=20260512165109&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Stolen Locket, Stolen Heart: Her Revenge
To save my family from ruin, I remarried my billionaire ex-husband, Jaxon Lowe. He held my late mother' s locket hostage, forcing me back into a gilded cage where I endured his cold contempt and his very public affair. I played the part of the silent, obedient wife he demanded, building a wall of ice around my heart just to survive. But my obedience didn't protect me. He abandoned me in a torrential downpour to rescue his mistress, Ivory. Then, he broke his one promise. He let Ivory have my mother's locket pulled from auction, the very reason for my sacrifice, simply because she found it "unlucky." That final betrayal led me straight into the hands of his business rival, where I was tortured and left for dead. But I survived. Four months later, Jaxon found me. He stood before me, tears streaming down his face, holding the now-repaired locket and begging for forgiveness. I took back what was mine. "I want a divorce," I said, my voice calm and final. "And I never want to see you again."/0/81133/coverorgin.jpg?v=20260106194849&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Perfect Daughter's Secret
My mother, a medical examiner, sees death every day. Yet, for ten years, she never truly saw me, not after my father' s tragic death, which she relentlessly blamed on me. Instead, all her love was lavished upon Chloe, the perfect daughter, my shining replacement. On my 21st birthday, Chloe sent men to abduct me. With a phone pressed to my ear, a hiss on the other end commanded me to beg my mother for a birthday meeting. Liv' s response was a chilling dismissal, a final accusation regarding my father' s death, and then echoing silence. Soon after, I became a Jane Doe, dismembered and stuffed into a duffel bag, delivered directly to my mother' s morgue. I watched, an unseen ghost, as her meticulous, gloved hands pieced together my violated body. She didn't flinch, my own mother, just saw a case, a victim, nothing more. Anguish, a useless emotion for a ghost, consumed me. As Liv worked, I relived Chloe' s whispered taunts: "He always liked you best, Sarah. Even dead, he liked you best." Chloe, the one who orchestrated my father's boating 'accident' and then meticulously murdered me, went home to my mother' s continued praise and love. Meanwhile, I lay in pieces on a cold steel table, under my mother' s unseeing eyes. But a small, silver dolphin pendant, my father' s last gift, sent back to my mother with a severed hand and a lock of shocking pink hair, ultimately ripped through her carefully constructed blindness. It was a macabre gift, a final, undeniable piece of a monstrous truth linking her perfect daughter, my father' s death, and my own brutal end. The story wasn' t over; it was just beginning./0/97559/coverorgin.jpg?v=20260106220531&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Our Love, Our Mutual Destruction
I was dying of cancer when my destructive ex, Brooks Ferguson, returned to Seattle. The first thing he did was demolish my late father's record store. But his new fiancée, Grace, delivered the final blow. With a vicious smile, she cornered me and poured my mother's ashes onto the filthy street. I snapped. I rammed my vintage Mustang into her convertible-twice. I woke up in the hospital, coughing up blood, just in time to see Brooks on the news. "When I find her," he snarled to the cameras, "I' m going to enjoy breaking every single bone in her body." He had no idea the cancer, accelerated by his cruelty, was already killing me. He wanted my body? Fine. I refused all treatment and arranged for the hospital to call him. My final revenge wasn't to fight him. It was to die and make him claim the corpse of the woman he destroyed./0/85357/coverorgin.jpg?v=20260106205942&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Divorce Over Two-Fifty
"That will be two dollars and fifty cents," the ice cream vendor chirped, a cheerful end to a warm afternoon. My daughter, Lily, beamed up at me, eyes wide for a rainbow-sprinkled cone. But before my fingers found my wallet, a cold voice cut through the air. "What do you think you' re doing, Ava?" It was Leo, my husband, arms crossed, face a mask of disapproval. He shamed me, publicly, over two dollars and fifty cents. "It' s the principle," he snapped, throwing a five-dollar bill at the vendor. "Consider this an advance. Transfer me one dollar and twenty-five cents by tonight. I' ll be checking." My face burned, my heart twisting as Lily clung to me. That night, I overheard his voice, warm and indulgent, on the phone. "Of course, Sophia. You liked the red one? I' ll have it delivered to your new place tomorrow." He was buying his stepsister a penthouse, showering her with gifts, yet demanding I pay for half of our daughter' s ice cream. The contrast was a physical blow. His love, his generosity, was for someone else. Later, in my small art studio, I typed a search: "divorce papers." I downloaded the forms, each keystroke heavy, final. When I placed the stack on his nightstand, he finally looked up, disbelief twisting his face into an ugly laugh. "A divorce? Don' t be ridiculous. Is this about the car I bought Sophia? Are you that jealous?" "It' s about the ice cream," I said, my voice steady, empty of the tears I' d held back all day. He scoffed, tossing the papers aside. "The ice cream? You want to end our marriage over two dollars and fifty cents? Ava, you' re being hysterical." He didn't know yet. This wasn't hysteria. It was the quiet, steel-edged birth of a rebellion./1/106476/coverorgin.jpg?v=cba45b8d387f243cb04774b62af3a235&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Reborn Heiress: Revenge On My Ruthless Ex
I was dying in a rusted warehouse, paralyzed in a wheelchair while the man I loved and my own stepsister watched with smiles on their faces. The air smelled of old oil and damp concrete, and my vision was fading into a milky haze. Dillon, the man I’d sacrificed everything for, smoothed his custom suit and pulled out a syringe filled with a clear, lethal neurotoxin. Beside him, my stepsister Bianca toyed with my mother’s sapphire ring—the one they’d just pried off my hand while I was too weak to even make a fist. She leaned in and whispered that my father’s trust fund was already offshore and that they’d sent my husband, Kade, to the wrong coordinates to ensure he’d only find my corpse. Dillon slid the needle into my vein with the chilling efficiency of a man who had done this before. "This will stop your heart in thirty seconds," he said, sounding as bored as if he were explaining a tax form. Ice flooded my chest, and my lungs seized, fighting for oxygen that wasn't there. As the warehouse lights blurred into white streaks, an explosion echoed in the distance. Kade had come for me, but he was too late. I died staring at the ceiling, my heart giving one last violent kick of pure, unadulterated hatred. I had been such a fool, believing Dillon’s lies and running away from the only man who actually cared for me. I died with a single thought: if I ever get another chance, I will drag you both to hell with me. Then, there was nothing. And then, there was air. I sat up gasping, my silk pajamas drenched in cold sweat. The rusted beams were gone, replaced by a vaulted ceiling and the glittering Manhattan skyline. I grabbed the digital clock on the nightstand—it was five years ago, the exact night I first tried to run away with Dillon. The bedroom door slammed against the wall, and Kade Mullen stood in the doorway, looking dangerous, furious, and very much alive. I looked at my shaking hands, then at the man I had once hated. This time, I wasn't going to run. I was going to make sure Dillon and Bianca lost everything./1/105381/coverorgin.jpg?v=225c2ae198c99b139bb246b84e2d49c5&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Runaway Bride's Secret Billionaire Protector
I sat before the vanity in a lace dress that cost more than a mid-sized sedan, but to me, it felt like a burial shroud. I was the sacrifice being offered to the Ortega family, a human payment for my father’s debts and failing company. When I tried to refuse, my stepmother forced a glass of drugged champagne into my hand and threatened to destroy me. She whispered that if I didn't marry the "monster" Cooper Ortega, she’d release psychiatric records proving I was a mental patient who hallucinated a child that never existed. I escaped by jumping out of a speeding limo, tumbling into a ditch and losing everything but my life. A mysterious, scarred driver in a beat-up Ford saved me, but when I limped back home, my father threw me out like trash. My own sister stood in the foyer, wearing my engagement ring and clinging to Lance, the man who had promised to protect me. "You're a sinking ship, Fran," my father sneered before locking the gates. Then I found the recording—my stepmother’s voice complaining that the doctor wanted more money because my baby had cried before they took him away. My son wasn't stillborn; he was stolen by the people I called family. I was broken, homeless, and hunted, with only a "poor" driver named Cooper to help me. I didn't know he was actually the billionaire monster I had jumped out of a car to avoid, but I moved into his cramped studio anyway. I’m starting a war with nothing but a cracked phone and a mother’s rage. They took my life and they took my son, so now I’m going to take everything they have left./1/112890/coverorgin.jpg?v=a2ddadcc385973e76e5f713d0f5b18c0&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Too Late For Regret, Mr. Booth
I was eight months pregnant with triplets, waiting for my husband in his private office. Instead, his "childhood friend" Jaida walked in and threw divorce papers at my pregnant belly. "He doesn't need you anymore. I'm the one who gave him a kidney five years ago, and now he's giving me his family." But I was the one who secretly gave him my kidney. Before I could expose her lie, she pushed me hard against a glass table. I went into premature labor. In the blood-soaked operating room, I heard Jaida give a cold order to the corrupt doctor. "Secure the heirs, whatever the cost to the incubator." They told me my two sons died, leaving only my frail daughter. I barely escaped the burning hospital with her, faking our deaths to survive. Four years later, I took my daughter to a top cardiologist for her rare heart defect, only to run into my ex-husband and Jaida. They had a four-year-old son with them. His name was Jacob—the exact name I had chosen for my "dead" baby. What completely shattered my world was the doctor's secret revelation: their son and my daughter shared an impossible, one-in-ten-million genetic mutation. My sons didn't die in that operating room. Jaida had stolen my baby and my life. I immediately ordered a secret DNA test. This time, I wouldn't just run; I would make them pay for everything they took from me./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./1/116019/coverorgin.jpg?v=20260515182237&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Between Ruin And Revenge: Her Regret
I worked three double shifts at the garage just to buy a velvet-boxed cake for my wealthy girlfriend, Arleen. But when I pushed open the VIP room door, I saw her lover kissing her bare leg. She didn't push him away. Instead, she laughed and swirled her martini. "I only forgot Finn because I knew he would stay. He is a poor boy from Queens who follows me around like a loyal dog." Later that night, her lover intentionally crashed a Porsche to scare me, sending a piece of jagged metal into my skull. Lying in a growing pool of my own blood, I watched Arleen crawl out of the wreckage. She didn't even look at me. She threw herself at her uninjured lover, screaming for a medic. "He just got scraped by a piece of plastic. He is faking it. Deal with Jaquez first!" When I woke up, I wasn't free. Arleen had locked me in a private hospital wing with 24-hour security, planning to isolate me and keep me as her broken, captive toy forever. My blind, pathetic devotion finally froze into absolute disgust. I looked at the heart monitor next to my bed and grabbed an IV needle. I severed the sensor wire to trigger a flatline, slipped out the fire stairs while the nurses panicked, and burned my identity to ashes. This time, I was going to disappear to London, build my own empire, and watch hers burn./1/103817/coverorgin.jpg?v=20260106223443&imageMogr2/format/webp)
His Betrayal, My Fierce Comeback
I was the moral compass of modern media, a journalist with a flawless record and a penthouse life with my husband, Britton. Then one phone call shattered it all. He blackmailed me, using a dark secret I kept for him, forcing me to retract a story and destroy my own career to protect his intern, Baylee. The fallout was brutal. My reputation was ruined overnight. Fleeing the city, I was in a horrific car accident and woke up in the hospital to learn I'd had a miscarriage. The final blow came when I called him for help, only to hear his intern giggling in the background. The man I loved since we were kids, the one who swore to protect me, had orchestrated my ruin and cost me our child. He left me for dead at the bottom of a cliff. But he made one mistake: he didn't make sure I was dead. Pulled from the ocean by a mysterious stranger, I was reborn. Now, I'm coming back to reclaim everything he took-and make him pay./1/116332/coverorgin.jpg?v=20260528194906&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Bound To The Scarred Secret Billionaire
My father was facing immediate arrest for embezzlement, and my stepmother's first reaction was to kick me out. The local boss gave me a sickening ultimatum: marry the town's terrifying, disfigured ex-con, or my father rots in jail and my little brother's future is ruined. Left with no choice, I walked into the freezing woods. I was so desperate that I stripped off my jacket, offering my body to the scarred beast just to stay warm. But Harrison looked at me with absolute disgust, threw my bag into the mud, and locked me out in the cold. When I crawled back home, my stepmother threw me onto the lawn. The local boss then attacked me in the dirt, deciding to sell me to a notoriously abusive family instead. Just as I was beaten nearly unconscious, Harrison appeared with a steel axe, brutally crushing the attackers. "She stays with me. I'll marry her tomorrow to settle the debt." But as I recovered inside his cabin, nothing made sense. He claimed to be a starving, penniless outcast, yet he wore immaculate custom leather boots and a fortune in authentic sandalwood beads. When I tried to put a blanket over his shivering shoulders, he nearly choked me to death in a blind, traumatized night terror. Who exactly was this incredibly dangerous man, and why was he pretending to be a worthless stray? As he turned his back and coldly ordered me to leave his property by sunrise, I wiped the dirt from my bruised face. I wasn't going anywhere./0/83324/coverorgin.jpg?v=94317f8b2df892d1de22b95bd71fdad1&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Bait
My wedding rehearsal dinner was supposed to be the perfect start to my future with Ethan. But then, a text from my sister Chloe, "Surprise! Got an earlier flight!" and just like that, my entire family, including my fiancé, walked out on me. They left me alone, humiliated, to pay for the abandoned dinner. It worsened. That night, despite my shellfish allergy, I was forced to cook Chloe her favorite risotto, my hands blistering, while they celebrated her. Then, when Chloe had a severe allergic reaction to nuts I' d unintentionally left out, my mother slapped me accusingly. My own family, and Ethan, branded me a jealous monster, willing to harm my sister. But the final blow came when I overheard them. My marriage to Ethan? Just a "strategic move" to keep him, Chloe' s long-time crush, trapped in our family' s orbit. I was bait. My entire life, a calculated chess move. The love I craved, the respect I yearned for, was a lie. That night, something inside me broke, and then rebuilt. I quietly submitted my application for a federal clerkship in D.C. Then, I packed my bag, left a life of lies, and never looked back./1/104756/coverorgin.jpg?v=2267532424e9db9daa0141e31d4b8f66&imageMogr2/format/webp)
His Poisoned Love, My Shattered Heart
For three years, I flew across the Atlantic for my fiancé, Dale. He was a brilliant tech CEO who swore he'd travel to the ends of the earth for me, saving a thousand airline tickets as "proof of his love." But when I arrived a day early to surprise him, I overheard him confessing to our friends. "Our relationship is exhausting me, and my love for her is draining away." His words were just the beginning. I soon discovered his affair with a young intern, Jetta. When she drugged me, sending me into anaphylactic shock, Dale' s only punishment for her was docking half a day's pay. He then took Jetta on a lavish vacation while I recovered alone in a hospital bed, his excuse being that I had "provoked" her. The man who once showered me with diamonds and promises now defended my attacker. His love, once my bedrock, had become a poison. As I stood at the airport gate, I sent him one last email with proof of everything. Then, I snapped my SIM card in half and boarded a flight to Iceland, disappearing from his life for good./1/107259/coverorgin.jpg?v=f869ae0cdb7972b6441ba8c345d610fb&imageMogr2/format/webp)
When Love Turns To Toxic Abuse
I was a talented designer married to Christian, the boy who swore he'd always protect me from my cruel sister, Gidget. He was my childhood sweetheart, my entire world. Then I found him in our bed, tangled up with her. He swore she drugged him, but then she turned up pregnant with his child. He chose her, letting her move into our home and believing every one of her lies. When Gidget deliberately slammed a piano lid on my hand, shattering the bones and ending my career, he didn't see her malice. He saw me as the villain. He slapped me, locked me away while my hand festered, and sided with the woman he knew had tormented me my entire life. The man who was my protector became my abuser. Five years later, they walked into my new boutique, a celebrated power couple ready to offer me charity. They thought I was broken and alone. They had no idea I was remarried to a man who was about to expose every last one of their secrets to the world./0/88643/coverorgin.jpg?v=20250811152030&imageMogr2/format/webp)
I Found My True Love after Dumping the Guy I Loved for Years
"Dad, I can break up with Lucas and marry into the most powerful mafia family, the Vittorine family, and wed that brutal heir." Eve's robe hung loosely, and there were kiss marks all over her neck. "But I have one condition. If you agree to it, I'll marry him." Eve's father, Robert Costa, asked her excitedly on the other end of the phone, but Eve abruptly hung up. Lucas got out of the bathroom, wiping droplets from his wet hair. Then he pulled Eve into his arms, and they fell into bed together. Eve buried her face in his chest, but her eyes were cold. She was the daughter of the Costa family and had been secretly in love with Lucas Smith, a district leader in the family, for five years. Three days ago, she was kidnapped. The kidnappers targeted a batch of goods belonging to Lucas. They used Eve as leverage to threaten Lucas. Her phone died after repeatedly trying to call him all night, but Lucas never answered. Eve was pushed off a cliff and was badly injured. She was then saved by the head of her family, so she narrowly escaped death. Lucas was flirting with her father's illegitimate daughter, Alina. Eve utterly realized Lucas's true face and stopped loving him. Lucas proposed to her today, and Eve had prepared a big gift for him. She would give him freedom./0/90051/coverorgin.jpg?v=20251104072839&imageMogr2/format/webp)
My Husband Imprisoned Me for His Dead Lover
I spent five years in a rehabilitation center for a crime I didn't commit. When I was finally released, my husband, Courtland, was the one waiting for me. He was the one who put me there. He brought me back to our mansion not as his wife, but as a prisoner. I was to serve as a living penance for the death of his true love-my stepsister, Kinsley. I scrubbed floors on my hands and knees while his mother and the staff watched with contempt. I was a ghost in my own home, a constant, breathing sacrifice to his grief. Then one day, the woman I had supposedly killed walked into the living room. Kinsley was alive. She shrank back in fake terror, and Courtland rushed to her side, shielding her from me. "You're frightening her," he snarled. That night, Kinsley brought me a cup of tea, her eyes glittering with triumphant hatred. It was the same poison that had made me barren in my first life. I knew their perfect, diabolical plan. They would break me completely, then get rid of me. But they didn't know that this time, I remembered everything. In my first life, their cruel games led to the death of my innocent little brother, Aspen. I took the cup from her hands and drank every last drop. I would endure their torture. I would play their game. And when they least expected it, I would escape and save the only person who ever mattered./1/111170/coverorgin.jpg?v=3d92526714f8c39f59e368a6eb287216&imageMogr2/format/webp)
