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Romance Books for Women

Bestsellers Ongoing Completed
Don't break the contract

Don't break the contract

Harry Adams is a young millionaire orphan, who has sunk into the solitude of his mansion since his parents died, so tragic was the death of these, he suffers from a depression disorder, so he lives away from absolutely all the outside world, becoming a sullen and insensitive man, but that deep down he needs love. In his parents' will, so that his family can give him a large inheritance, they leave as a condition that he must marry before the age of 30, or else he would lose all his fortune and it would be donated to a foundation. But he has not bothered to do anything about it, who he is really worried is to Ernest Samuelson, his faithful friend and caretaker since his parents died, so he proposes Harry to get a wife by contract to avoid losing his inheritance, and although it sounded crazy it was a good option to avoid being left on the street. Ernest in his search for the ideal woman, can only find Diane Saenz, daughter of his best friend, a humble girl, who leads an unimaginable mess of life, her father accepts the contract without considering her opinion, as they are about to lose their house. For Diane this drastic change in her life makes her more rebellious and daring, the idea of leaving her current boyfriend to marry a millionaire she does not know, makes her make the worst decision, so in the company of her current partner they decide to form a macabre plan to kill Harry, but over time, those feelings of hatred turn into love, thus giving a twist to the story, as she must prove her selfless love to Harry so that he does not break the marriage contract.
The Price of Perfection

The Price of Perfection

It was my birthday, marking ten silent years I' d lived inside Marcus Thorne' s gilded mansion. I was his late wife' s eerie look-alike, tasked with raising his son, Leo, in a life of unimaginable luxury and suffocating expectation. Then, a seemingly innocent smoothie led to a violent miscarriage, a tiny, unformed hope extinguished. The boy I' d nurtured for a decade delivered the first cruel blow, his voice devoid of warmth: "You' ll never be her. Stop trying." Marcus, the industrial titan who' d bought my resemblance, casually dismissed my profound loss, already planning his next merger and another child. My own mother defended him, her hand stinging across my face as she called me ungrateful for daring to question this "chance" at security. Leo, the boy I' d raised and loved like my own, unleashed a torrent of venom, accusing me of wanting his mother dead, twisting my decade of devotion into a greedy plot for their fortune. Every sacrifice, every ounce of love I' d given, felt corrupted, leaving me utterly alone in an opulent prison built on lies and echoes. As Marcus, his eyes alight with menace, picked up a heavy letter opener, threatening to mar the face that had been both my fortune and my curse, a terrifying clarity hit me. I seized the blade from him and, with agonizing precision, dragged it across my own cheeks. The incandescent pain was a primal scream of liberation. Bleeding and irrevocably scarred, I bolted from that house, finally, truly free.
More Than a Mistress, Less Than a Wife

More Than a Mistress, Less Than a Wife

Olivia Holloway was once NYC’s golden girl, an architect married to the powerful Ethan Cartwright. Our penthouse offered glittering city views, a testament to the life I’d built—or rather, the life I’d put my own dreams on hold for. We were the epitome of success. Then the Hamptons retreat happened. Ethan was found with a junior analyst, Chloe Vance. His smooth, too-smooth explanation about being drugged dissolved months later when Chloe reappeared, pregnant, claiming the baby was his. It was a slap in the face. His mother, Eleanor, insisted I accept the situation for the “Cartwright heir.” My grandmother's cherished sapphire heirloom was casually given to Chloe. Ethan left me to drown after a yacht accident, prioritizing Chloe, then demanded I, injured, donate blood to her. Each betrayal was a fresh wound, yet he expected me to act as if nothing happened. The public humiliation was unending, climaxing when Chloe accused me of harming her at a charity gala, and Eleanor physically slapped me. My entire life, identity, and very humanity had been consumed by their schemes. How could the man I loved destroy me so thoroughly, yet remain so oblivious to my suffering? In that moment, something inside me shattered irrevocably, but it also awakened. I smashed Eleanor’s treasured porcelain heirloom, signaling a definitive end to their control. I filed for divorce, packed a bag, and disappeared, ready to reclaim my life, my freedom, and rediscover Olivia Holloway.
The Ninety-Nine Betrayals

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.
Reborn on My Wedding Day

Reborn on My Wedding Day

I lay dying, fifty years of my life a bitter regret. My wife, Chloe, whispered her final wish: "Scatter my ashes… with Ethan's." Ethan. My half-brother. Even in her last breath, he was her focus. My own heart gave out, not from illness, but from the crushing weight of a life wasted, a fifty-year mistake born of obligation. All I felt was a cold, absolute despair, so much regret. Then, blinding light. I gasped, sitting bolt upright, in my own bed. My hands were young, strong. My reflection showed a sharp, twenty-five-year-old face. The expensive watch on the nightstand screamed the date: my wedding day. The very day that started my gilded cage of a life. But this time, a surge of something fierce ignited within me. Not this time. Never again. I wouldn't repeat the same mistake. I knew exactly what I wanted, who I truly wanted. At the altar, as the whispers started about Chloe' s inexplicable lateness, I turned from the stunned crowd. I walked past my furious father, past the gawking socialites, straight to her. Ava Chen, the wild, vibrant tech heiress, my silent protector in another life, the one who died saving me. "Chloe seems to have other priorities," I announced, my voice clear and steady. "Ava Chen, would you do me the honor of marrying me instead?" Her eyes widened, then a slow, defiant smile spread across her face. "Liam Miller," she said, her voice a balm, "I thought you'd never ask." This was my second chance. This time, I was choosing my own destiny.