Romance Books for Women
Bestsellers Ongoing Completed
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Love Beyond The Scars
For five long years, Ethan Miller lived in silent devotion to Victoria Davenport, pushing her wheelchair, fulfilling her every demand, and harboring a desperate love he believed would someday be reciprocated. He considered himself her devoted world, her hands and feet, following her tragic horseback riding accident that left her seemingly paralyzed. But one chilling whisper shattered his meticulously constructed reality: Victoria's paralysis was an elaborate hoax, his unwavering dedication a mere component in her sadistic, years-long game of revenge. He was exposed as nothing more than a "poor fool," a pathetic pawn manipulated in her cruel scheme. The profound love he had nurtured curdled into an agonizing bitterness as he learned they planned an "unforgettable" 99th game, designed explicitly to "truly break him." Lured on a fake errand to a desolate warehouse, Ethan was subjected to an unspeakable, humiliating assault, brutally filmed for their wicked amusement. Broken physically and defiled spiritually, a devastating question echoed: How could five years of his life, his entire being, have been reduced to such a twisted, grotesque joke? Yet, from the abyss of betrayal, a steel-cold resolve emerged. Ethan Miller orchestrated his own dramatic disappearance, faking his suicide by the cold Charles River. He was no more. Reborn as Alex Chen, he journeyed west to Seattle, determined to rebuild a life free from the shadows of his tormentors, seeking healing and genuine autonomy./0/18400/coverorgin.jpg?v=7282a8cc824c427c11edb43c6d59e68f&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Destiny or Coincidence?
We think that everything is in our hands and especially our present and future which we carefully plan it all together to make it perfect and easier for us. But what if our fate has other plans for us? what if we think that it was just a coincidence but turns out to be our destiny in the end? Is there a thing called a coincidence? Or is everything a Destiny? ------- Athira Patel is from Hyderabad and after completing her studies she and her friends got the job in different places. They wanted to enjoy one last day doing a party where Athira meets the one who she kisses on the first meet. After Athira had a breakup with her first boyfriend she never wanted to be in any relationship. Her life goal is to settle down in her dream job, but what happens when she meets Abhilash Ponnam in the pub for the first time and gets attracted to him immediately? What happens when she is unable to resist her feelings towards Abhilash? Will she give in to her feelings or still be afraid because of her past relationship with her Ex? Are they really destined to be together? Is Abhilash meeting her in the pub is just a coincidence or a Destiny? Follow Athira's Journey to know what is her destiny. Destiny or Coincidence? "LIFE IS ALL ABOUT DESTINY, AND COINCIDENCE IS A THING THAT HELPS US MEET WITH DESTINY"/0/80662/coverorgin.jpg?v=bcc9fdafbee23abb4555b19c42685ac8&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Ninety-Nine Betrayals
The world went gray after the crash that took my parents, leaving their green tech company on the brink. Then my dazzling wife, Izzy, appeared like a savior, her old Texas oil money propping us up. She was my rock, my biggest cheerleader through ninety-eight failed prototypes, always assuring me the ninety-ninth, UrbanFlow, would be "the one." I loved and trusted her completely. Until I overheard her chilling confession. She wasn't my supporter; she was a saboteur. She'd orchestrated every single one of my "failures," systematically leaking my core algorithms and business plans to her old flame, Caleb. My IP was the foundation of his booming tech empire. Our marriage? A cold, calculated "strategic" move to keep me coding, dependent, and utterly blind. The woman I adored, my "Izzy," was a venomous lie. Every affectionate word, every comforting touch, twisted into a cruel mockery of love. My life was a meticulously constructed deception, my genius hijacked, my parents' legacy exploited. Nausea churned in my gut, quickly replaced by a simmering, icy rage. She believed I was a naive fool, that I had nothing without her. She was about to discover just how wrong she was. My heart ached with betrayal, but my mind sharpened with unwavering resolve. I would not just reclaim my work; I would unleash a reckoning so precise, so public, that they would pay for every single lie. This was no longer about a company—it was about justice./1/104284/coverorgin.jpg?v=b1c2f61288f85dcb720a7653472895f9&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Husband By Error
Series One: On her wedding day, Isabella Hernando stared into the mirror and wondered- how could she possibly marry someone she barely remembered? Miguel Martez, the man she was arranged to wed, was only a childhood friend who had long since disappeared. But just before the ceremony was about to begin, Miguel vanished without a trace. To save the family's reputation, Maximilian Martez, his elder brother, was forced to take his place at the altar- without anyone knowing, not even the bride herself. But when Isabella finally stood before the man, she was shocked. That face, those eyes... that voice... Series Two: Adeline Martez is a quiet, introverted girl who grew up cherished and spoiled by her parents. Marriage was never something she worried about-until the day her parents announced her arranged match. Her groom-to-be? Jason Castello-the man she despised most. Her senior. Her tormentor. The shameless bully who had made her school days miserable. Adeline fought with everything she had to escape the engagement. But the harder she pushed him away, the tighter Jason held on. One stubborn cat. One relentless dog. When hatred sparks, tempers clash, and neither is willing to surrender- how does a battlefield turn into a marriage?/0/58448/coverorgin.jpg?v=2920f3ae9df0201f314ea6ff1ea62701&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Possessed And Retaliated
My body was taken over by another woman, she pursued a scumbag, willingly degraded herself, causing me to cut off ties with my parents, and even caused Felix to have a car accident and become a vegetable. After reclaiming control of my body, I designed a plan to expose the true nature of the scumbag. His identity as a movie star was not preserved, and he begged me desperately. I did not divorce him, but he wanted to hire someone to kill me. After careful calculation, the true identity of the scumbag was exposed, not only losing fame and fortune, but also being sentenced to life imprisonment. I also got rid of the woman who had always been in my mind and welcomed a new life./1/121805/coverorgin.jpg?v=24e3b90ebe2a112c17b3780bac71985f&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Two Brothers, One Contract: I Chose My Own Heart
I heard the debt collector say in a malicious tone, "One point two million dollars. If you cannot pay it back, then you will have to settle the debt with your daughter." My father, Richard Parker, who had gambled away our lives and piled up crushing high-interest loans, clutched my hand tightly. "Chloe, please help me. Have mercy on me!" He said pleadingly. I'm Chloe Parker, and in that moment, my blood turned to ice. I shut my eyes in despair. Just then, a black Rolls-Royce silently came into view. Inside sat a man who seemed like a predator hiding itself for a hunt. With nothing more than a single glance, he made the menacing debt collector flinch. "Sign the contract," he said to me, "or let them take you. Your choice." He held out an agreement and two photographs. "These are my two sons. It will be your eighteenth birthday three months from now, and after that, you will pick one and be engaged to him." His sons in the photos looked about my age, and they bore a faint resemblance to each other. Yet one of them looked cold and distant, the other gentle and refined. Behind me, the thugs who were brought by the debt collector were still watching us like hungry wolves. My father stood there, spineless and useless. I had no choice. So I signed my name with a trembling hand. Yet I did not notice that the man studied my face and murmured under his breath so softly I could not hear, "She looks just like her..."/0/83478/coverorgin.jpg?v=a409f1edb32a6233e8d6df1289984f7f&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Mistress, The Baby, And The CEO's Wife
I flew from Texas to Boston, a bouquet of yellow roses beside me, ready to surprise Chloe for our fifth anniversary. I imagined her delight, the simple life waiting for us back home. But when I used her spare key and found her in that sterile city apartment, the surprise was all mine. Chloe was heavily pregnant. The roses fell as she confessed: our five years of shared sadness over infertility was a lie. This baby wasn't ours; it was for her ex, Julian, who allegedly had a terminal illness. Then Julian himself walked in, casually possessive, and Chloe defended him, shooing me out of what I thought was our home. My heart didn't just break; it evaporated. A "noble sacrifice"? It felt like a sick joke, a cheap trick to excuse an unthinkable betrayal. Why was he really here, and why did her story about his illness sound so rehearsed? Something snapped. Instead of walking away, I opened my laptop. "Julian Croft Boston." What I found-that he was already married to a powerful heiress, Scarlett Ashworth-Croft-ignited a cold fury. I sent his wife an email. Now, I had a plan./0/90987/coverorgin.jpg?v=dae468ed4496ce0eff5262f99db3958a&imageMogr2/format/webp)
An Iced Decaf Coffee
My husband was a university professor. On my way to pick him up from work, I felt thirsty and asked him to order me a coffee. When I got it, it was an iced decaf coffee. I didn't take a sip and tossed it into the trash can in his office. "Jared, I want a divorce." He froze, his face full of confusion. "What?" His new doctoral student, Diana Riley, stepped in to smooth things over. "It's just a coffee. If you don't like it, don't drink it. No need to make a big deal, Mrs. Cooper." Jared frowned. "Kathy, if you don't like it, just buy another one. Why throw a fit?" I turned and walked away. "I'll bring you the divorce papers tomorrow."/0/84886/coverorgin.jpg?v=8f681b049102254374a97171b0c2b712&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Love After the Storm
My world collapsed with a single word: Glioblastoma. But before I could even process my own death sentence, I walked in on another: my estranged wife, Chloe, beaming on TV, pregnant with another man' s child. My five-year-old son, Liam, then threw my phone at the wall and declared my rival, Mark, his "Uncle," even proudly showing me a drawing where he' d taken Mark' s last name. I demanded a divorce, only for Chloe to sneer that we were never legally married, just a "convenience," before Liam physically shoved me out of the house I' d built. Standing on the porch, my medical diagnosis now felt secondary. Then, a spider, seemingly dropped by Liam, bit me, paralyzing me with venom. As I struggled to start my car, a black SUV roared to life, slammed into me, and I was left for dead in the mangled wreckage while Chloe and Mark watched, calling off emergency services and mocking my dying pleas. Why were they doing this? Why did my own son hate me so much? Rescued by an unexpected police officer and paramedic, I somehow survived. But this wasn' t just about survival anymore. This was about exposing the monstrous lies and betrayals that had stolen my life and tried to bury me./1/108508/coverorgin.jpg?v=e0c779dd67397c11e33dec91c0b68d6c&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Her Second Chance At Love
The passenger window bloomed into a spiderweb of cracks, and one razor-sharp sliver drew a searing, hot line across Amelia Hayes’s cheek. "Help me," she choked into the phone, but her husband, Ethan Caldwell, snapped: "Amelia, for God's sake, I'm in a meeting." A percussive blow, then a wave of encroaching silence. She awoke not on the hard-packed asphalt beside her car, but in her opulent master bedroom, the calendar marking three months after her wedding. Three months into a marriage that had already begun its slow work of killing her. Ethan stood by the window, his voice softening, "Yes, Jessica, tonight sounds perfect." Jessica Thorne, his true love, the shadow over Amelia's first life. The customary ache that had long occupied the space beneath her ribs did not flare, but rather receded, leaving behind a preternatural stillness—a silence so profound she could count the heavy, deliberate beats of the pulse in her wrist. For seven miserable years, she had given Ethan a desperate, unyielding devotion. She had endured his glacial distance, his brazen affairs, his emotional abuse, all for a flicker of his attention. She had become a shell, a caricature, ridiculed by Ethan's circle and condescended to by his family. The profound injustice, the sheer blindness of his indifference, was a bitter pill. The familiar, constricting tightness that had long defined her chest had vanished. In its place was a peculiar and unnerving lightness, as if some vital, heavy organ had been neatly excised, leaving behind a cavity that no longer knew how to ache. She recalled the final indignity from that first life: a vulgar scene at a gala involving Eleanor’s ashes. Ethan’s palm had struck her shoulder with such force that she stumbled two full steps backward; before her skull met the unyielding wall, she registered the faint, sickening pop of a vertebra in her own neck, his accusations echoing: "You are a disgrace." He comforted Jessica while Amelia's head reeled from the impact. That was the final insult. There were no tears, nor any tremor of rage. Her fingertips, which had so often trembled, now rested upon her knees with the weight and stillness of poured lead. She delivered a small velvet box to his penthouse. Inside: the wedding ring and a divorce decree. "I require you," she stated, her voice a thing of newfound clarity, "to be removed from my life. Permanently." She was reborn to be free./0/81288/coverorgin.jpg?v=d53ec7f2c0aef7b6d178b8a32b19cfb3&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Her Second Life, His Last
My sister Eleanor was set to marry Marcus Thorne, a powerful man whose family held immense sway. It was a pre-arranged union, heralded as the cornerstone of a grand alliance between the Harrisons and the Thornes. But my world shattered when I uncovered the horrifying truth: Marcus had orchestrated Eleanor's death, masking it as a "sudden illness." Before I could expose his monstrous secret, a killer's hands clasped my throat. The suffocating scent of expensive oud cologne filled my lungs as my vision faded. My first life ended right there, in my father's study-a place of power that became my tomb. Every attempt to reveal the truth, every desperate plea, was brutally silenced. The injustice was a burning fire within me. How could his heinous crimes go unpunished? The phantom ache of that chokehold, indelibly linked to the memory of that rich, woody scent, fueled an insatiable fury. I died knowing the monster would walk free. But then, I gasped, sitting bolt upright in my silk sheets, sunlight streaming into my room. It was Eleanor's engagement day once more. This wasn't a nightmare; it was a resurrection. This was my second chance. I knew what I had to do: I would marry Marcus Thorne myself, infiltrating his inner circle to save Eleanor and orchestrate his ultimate downfall. This wasn't just survival; it was war./0/82696/coverorgin.jpg?v=6eef00391c2c7774feb61f40629c1e67&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The ATM Husband's Reckoning
The key turning in the lock was a sound I hadn't heard in two years, not since my wife Chloe left for her "research fellowship." Suddenly, she was in our kitchen, not alone, but holding two baby carriers. "Ethan," she said, her voice cool, "Meet our children." My jaw dropped, the half-made sandwich forgotten – children? We explicitly agreed to be child-free due to her crippling anxiety about pregnancy. Then she announced, with chilling casualness, "They're biologically mine and Liam's." Liam, her high school sweetheart, the one she told me was dying of a rare cancer, the reason she needed the "fellowship" to be near him – or so she claimed. A sickening dread coiled in my stomach as her demand to become a stay-at-home dad solidified the nightmare. Later, hidden men's designer underwear and used condoms in her suitcase screamed "no physical intimacy," while a tax bill proved our co-owned cabin was now solely Liam's. Eight years of sacrificing my dreams for her anxieties, now revealed as a meticulously planned deception, a cruel, bitter joke. The final blow came when I found Chloe laughing, openly intimate with a perfectly healthy Liam, mocking me, the "chump" and "ATM," at a local restaurant. My world shattered, filled with a cold fury I' d never known. "No, Chloe," I stated, the first time in years I' d defied her, as she demanded I rescue her family yet again. I handed her the divorce papers; the Berlin job offer, long-deferred, was calling my name, and this time, I would answer. She slapped me, screamed accusations, her mother joined in, but their venom had no power over my newfound resolve. I called Professor Albright, securing my escape: "Is that job offer in Berlin still a possibility?" "Soon," I promised, booking a one-way ticket, ready to leave the toxic wasteland behind forever./0/85199/coverorgin.jpg?v=5feeaf0b9f22d19774d4a86d41f18523&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Cheating Husband’s Painful Secret
The harsh, sterile light of the emergency room usually brought me a sense of purpose. But tonight, it felt like a spotlight on my humiliation. There, on a gurney, was my husband, Liam, clutching his groin, his face pale and contorted, his designer jeans cut away by paramedics. Next to him, a young woman in a crop top, mascara streaked, held his hand, whining about him collapsing. Then I saw it on his chart: Priapism. A prolonged, painful erection. A side effect of recreational drugs. On our tenth wedding anniversary. "I\'m his wife," I finally managed, the words tasting like acid. Her jaw dropped. "His wife? But he told me he was divorced! He said I was his girlfriend." The air left my lungs. My colleagues watched as Dr. Evelyn Reed, brilliant cardiac surgeon, couldn\'t even hold her own marriage together. Relief curdled into rage as Liam avoided my gaze. He looked weak, pathetic. "No, Dr. Chen," I said, my voice cold and clear. "I\'ll handle it. He\'s my patient now." I stripped off my wedding ring, dropping it onto the gurney next to his hand. "We\'re done, Liam. Consider this my anniversary gift to you." The memory of him whispering promises of forever, of honesty, of a partnership built on respect, now felt like a cruel lie. This wasn't just betrayal. He had faked a vasectomy years ago, after our miscarriage, telling me he only needed me, while planning this separate life. The depth of his deceit made me physically sick. A Code Blue saved me from that moment, calling me to save a life. But I promised myself, after I saved my patient, I would return and systematically destroy Liam\'s. I wouldn't look back./0/20747/coverorgin.jpg?v=f120dfe54210898ae870c1fca3bda3dd&imageMogr2/format/webp)
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Unscripted: My Own Story
My life with Jake was supposed to be a rom-com: I, the supportive girlfriend, he, the brooding game developer destined for greatness. But our apartment was a toxic mess of his empty energy drinks and my growing resentment, as the rent-paying backbone of his "genius." Strange, unsolicited “viewer comments” glowed in the air around me, always excusing his messes, validating his outbursts, and telling me how to be the "perfect" partner. They echoed in my ears the night Jake threw a tantrum over a hot dog, shattering our matching mugs and leaving me cut and bleeding, while the comments screamed that he was just "hangry" and "passionate." After Jake publicly flaunted his "support crew" and I lost my major freelance job due to the "difficult" reputation he manufactured, I was drowning in a narrative everyone else seemed to believe. Why was my life so chaotic, and why did everyone, even my own parents, act like I was the problem? Fleeing in despair, I stumbled upon a shocking truth: My entire life, every argument, every emotional manipulation, was a meticulously crafted "script" by a "Relationship Architect" named Mark Taylor, designed to make me the perfect, submissive character in Jake's "hero's journey."/0/24658/coverorgin.jpg?v=14286c683b8a06994bd14d13d10b0ded&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Mafia's Scars
Yelena: Scarred, Haunted by her nightmares, and completely alone. Domenico: Powerful, Boss of the underworld, and Possessive of one person. They met back in high school and almost fell in love when Yelena was betrayed by Dom so she ran away for two years. Dom didn't stop looking for her until he found her and he discovered a way to keep her his forever, he asked his father to make an arranged marriage between their families to avoid wars and blood. "I was wondering when you'd show up." pausing for a second to turn around she continued "Dom." "Hello, Sweetheart."/0/18557/coverorgin.jpg?v=a71ee143d837fdc29cb834bb9f44af2a&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Be Your One And Only
The day Irene was dumbed by her boyfriend was the same day that she got engaged. Drunk in sadness and alcohol, Irene found herself answering a tipsy "yes" to Aaron's invitation to marry. By the time she sobered up, she found herself whisked in a marriage with a man she barely knew. At first, each day felt like a honeymoon until, slowly, Aaron unveils his true identity./0/98027/coverorgin.jpg?v=a2d781c39ab8219b8e33449bd839444a&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Her Best Friend's Wife
Lita Martinez has spent her life running from hunger, from heartbreak, from the memory of the girl who once shared stale bread under a streetlight with a boy who swore he'd never let her starve. Now, ten years later, she's marrying wealth instead of love. Marcus Thorne, her billionaire boss turned fiancé, offers safety, status, and escape from everything she once feared. But safety has a price. Damian, the best friend she left behind, is the echo she can't silence. On the morning of her wedding, their forbidden night still burns. And when secrets surface, blackmail, blood, and a past Marcus tried to bury, Lita's carefully constructed future begins to fracture. The truth changes everything: Marcus's hidden crime, Damian's unhealed wounds, and the devastating realization that the man who promised her security once destroyed her family. In a world where survival demands impossible choices, Lita must decide whether accountability can exist without forgiveness and whether love can survive the truth. Her Best Friend's Wife is a story of ambition, guilt, and the brutal cost of choosing honesty over safety./0/84417/coverorgin.jpg?v=0d2d63fa9b9ec0d729fdb876138915c3&imageMogr2/format/webp)
My Wife, The Butcher
I knelt on one knee, velvet box in hand, ready to propose to the woman I loved, a rising star in the theater world. But instead of a yes, her cold voice cut through the silence: "I'm in love with someone else." Instantly, her aunt, Nicole Johns, stepped from the wings, claiming she'd harbored a crush on me for years, and married me within a month. Five years later, severely burned in a pyrotechnics "accident," I overheard Nicole, my wife, discussing my fate with the doctor. She ordered my healthy skin be given to her lover, the very man my ex-fiancée left me for, Matthew Blakely, for a cosmetic procedure. "For Ethan," she hissed, "use the experimental synthetic skin. It's cheaper." Then, unbelievably, she tried to have me sterilized while I was unconscious, revealing she'd aborted our children because they were an "inconvenient" distraction from her affair with Matthew. The "accident" and their fabricated story of my jealousy were all a setup. I later learned the deepest horror: she had staged Matthew's "attack" to steal my kidney, which he openly gloated about right after receiving it. They had a secret, sinister plan for my body. My world shattered beyond repair. I finally called my family' s ranch in Texas, ready to fight for my life./0/86920/coverorgin.jpg?v=0324110e0098561841155208c98a55c0&imageMogr2/format/webp)
