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Romance Books for Women

Bestsellers Ongoing Completed
The Runaway Mafia Queen

The Runaway Mafia Queen

"Did you finish the process of your admission in this college?" He asked her in a low voice calmly. Her eyebrows got scrunched in confusion at his bizarre question out of the blue. She even forgot that his arms were around her and she was being kept captured. "Yes?" She hesitantly said after a few seconds. "You chose Economy Major?" He lifted up one of his hand and pushed the tendril that was falling on her forehead, behind her ear. She unconsciously shivered at his touch and replied in a soft tone, "Yes." "What about Hector?" He asked casually and shifted her more closer to himself. The continuous questions were just an excuse to keep her in his arms for a longer amount of time. "You don't know what Hector has chosen?" Her eyes widened in surprise, "You both live in the same house. Are you both brothers or what?" As soon as the words slipped out of her lips, she slapped her hand on her mouth, surprised at her own audacity with the way she had talked to him. "I am sorry." She immediately panicked, fearing his anger, "It just slipped out of my mouth." He bent his head down and tapped his nose with hers playfully. She scrunched up her nose cutely and immediately a pink blush covered her face. Had she even realized that it had been almost an whole hour but she had not moved away from his touch, had not tried to run away from him? Only he knew how much he had craved to have her like this in his arms. It was not lust that he felt towards her. It was just pure longing, and need. Like the need for a last breath or a deep thirst for water.
From Cell Block To Center Stage

From Cell Block To Center Stage

After five long years, the prison gates groaned open. My husband, Michael, and our son, Kevin, were waiting, their presence a balm to my battered soul. I stepped into the blinding California sun, believing my nightmare was over, ready to reclaim my life. But within days, searching for old family videos on Michael’s tablet, I stumbled upon a subfolder: “Audio Notes – Misc.” The latest file contained Kevin's voice, confessing how he’d helped his father frame me – swapping my USB drive, planting evidence before my career-defining presentation. Then, Michael's chilling confirmation: he orchestrated my downfall, all to clear the path for a young actress, Sophia Bell. My meticulously rebuilt hope shattered. My five years in prison weren't a mistake; they were a deliberate sacrifice orchestrated by my own husband and son. I discovered Michael’s study was a shrine to Sophia, filled with devotion he never showed me. At Sophia’s lavish Hollywood party for the film stolen from my script, I saw my grandmother’s cherished necklace – my wedding "something old" – glinting on her neck. My own father publicly disowned me, my son Kevin shoved me to the ground, calling me an embarrassment. Later, I found Michael and Sophia in *my* bed, my heirloom tossed carelessly aside. How could the people I loved most betray me with such cold precision? Was my entire life built on a foundation of lies and manipulation? The pain was suffocating, the injustice searing. With trembling hands, I signed the divorce papers. Minutes later, I was in a black car with David Lee, my loyal friend, leaving behind the wreckage. No suitcase, no goodbyes, just the quiet click of the door marking the start of a new battle and a new dawn.
His Betrayal, Her Burning Revenge

His Betrayal, Her Burning Revenge

The leather seats of the Rolls-Royce were cold against my bare skin, just like the emptiness inside me after another stolen encounter with Ethan Vance. I was Scarlett Hayes, a sharp fashion designer, entangled with a tech billionaire, a genius admired by the world. But tonight, the usual rush was gone, replaced by a chilling void as I watched city lights blur past. Then, a message on Ethan' s laptop caught my eye: "Ethan, the storm scares me..." From "Willow." Willow, my sickly stepsister, a name that tasted like bitter poison. My phone buzzed. It was Ethan. "I have to step out for a bit. An emergency. Stay here." He rushed out, leaving me with a cold dread. I tracked his car to a high-end hotel, and what I saw shattered my world: Ethan, tenderly carrying Willow like she was made of glass. He was her protector, her long-lost sweetheart; the two painful parts of my life colliding. Suddenly, Willow wasn't just some delicate girl. She was Ethan's past, and now, my stepsister. Rage, betrayal, and a deep, aching hurt swirled inside me. The arranged marriage my father forced on me wasn't just an escape anymore. It was a weapon. My revenge. Two days later, homeless and broke after a vengeful shopping spree, Ethan found me. He offered me refuge. I saw the handsome, deceptive face of the man who had played me for a fool. A week later, at Willow' s welcome-home party, the ultimate humiliation struck. In a cruel game, Ethan chose Willow repeatedly-for kindness, for trust, and finally, on a sinking ship, to save. His silence when asked who he loved more was a public verdict. He chose Willow. He always would. Something inside me snapped. I lunged at Willow, my hands finding her fragile neck. Ethan pulled me off, his face a mask of cold fury, choosing her even then. "He was never yours," Willow hissed after I was detained. "This whole affair? It was my idea. He recorded everything. All for me." The betrayal was monstrous. I walked out, went to his penthouse, and systematically destroyed it. I burned everything to the ground. The "ailing" groom in the South, Liam Sterling, was not what I expected. He was healthy, charming, and looked at me as a long-lost dream, confessing he had orchestrated the arranged marriage just to meet me. Just as I found a flicker of peace, a fragile hope for a new life, Ethan came back. He interrupted my engagement party, a wild, desperate man, publicly declaring his love for me. But it was too late. I rejected him. I had a new, real life. On the eve of my wedding, in a final, mad act of possession, Ethan kidnapped me. He took me to a secluded private island. He tried to rekindle our past with lavish gifts and desperate affection. I feigned compliance, secretly planning my escape. I managed to get a message to Liam. He came for me. As we escaped, a cliff collapsed. Ethan, in a single, selfless act, threw himself in front of us. He saved us. The last thing I saw before everything went black was Ethan, lying broken at the bottom of the cliff. He lost. I won. But deep down, a question lingered: what kind of love could twist so violently?
The Wife He Destroyed, Reborn

The Wife He Destroyed, Reborn

On our tenth wedding anniversary, my husband Liam handed me a beautifully wrapped gift. It wasn't jewelry; it was a leather-bound notebook, a "playbook" detailing years of his affairs, each encounter meticulously logged. My world shattered as he casually demanded I "disperse" his harem, paying them off so we could "start over." For ten years, I' d been the obedient wife, the replacement bride after my twin sister Chloe supposedly died. Swallowing the humiliation, I worked my way through the list, until only one name remained: Chloe, still alive, and heavily pregnant with Liam's child. He hadn' t wanted me back; he wanted me gone, to bring her home. The cruel, elaborate lie of my marriage finally unraveled. When I confronted him, Liam' s facade dropped, his hands around my throat, whispering I was just a "pathetic replacement." Then, Chloe appeared, feigning innocence and twisting our past, painting me as obsessed, while Liam demoted me from wife to servant, ordering me to care for his pregnant mistress. Driven to despair, I called my mother, who immediately came to my rescue. But just as she arrived, Chloe, in Liam' s car, brutally ran her down, killing her before my eyes. Liam then presented me with a waiver, demanding I absolve Chloe of responsibility to protect his mistress and "his son," offering me money for my mother' s death. The callous contempt in his eyes, the utter disrespect for my grief, ignited a cold, hard fury I had never known. I tore his waiver to shreds, the act a blazing declaration of war. At my mother' s funeral, Chloe brazenly confessed the murder, gloating over her "plan" to get rid of my mother, then deliberately provoked me. Liam, in his rage, viciously kicked me in the stomach, causing the miscarriage of our child-a child he didn' t even know existed. The final betrayal came when I needed him most; in the hospital, writhing in pain, he dismissed my pleas for help, choosing Chloe, leading to another devastating miscarriage. I was losing everything, suffocating in a nightmare orchestrated by the very people who were supposed to be my family. But then, my uncle arrived, a beacon of unwavering support, pulling me from the abyss. Two years passed. Reborn as Ava Sterling, a successful design mogul, I returned, ready to make Liam pay. At a charity gala, I humiliated him publicly, then gave him a choice: send Chloe, the woman he' d loved, to prison for murder, or lose me forever. He chose to sacrifice Chloe, but his act of penance was merely the opening gambit in my game of revenge. Chloe was arrested, her frantic cries exposing Liam's complicity, destroying his reputation. His calls became desperate, demanding his "reward." He had no idea his punishment had just begun.