Romance Books for Women
Bestsellers Ongoing Completed
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A Taste of Betrayal: The Chef's Sweet Revenge
It was our fifth wedding anniversary, and I, a once Michelin-starred chef, had prepared a special dinner, ready to celebrate the life I'd built supporting my ambitious politician wife, Jessica. But then came her call, a clipped, professional voice explaining an "urgent campaign retreat," followed by the devastating discovery of an abortion receipt dated two weeks prior, a decision she made without me. The next day, her Chief of Staff, David, chillingly answered her phone, confirming my worst fears: she wasn't at a retreat; she was with him, comfortably in his hotel room. My heart pounded with a mix of betrayal and raw disbelief – how could she discard our shared future, our dream of a family, and betray our vows so utterly, all while I sacrificed everything for her career? When she finally returned, furious and drenched, she kicked the custom smoker I used for my small catering gigs, sneering at my "hobby" and screaming that I was lazy, ambitionless, and holding her back, pushing me to the brink of a life-changing decision. Her contempt solidified my resolve: she had no idea the "freeloader" she was disdaining was the silent architect of her entire world, and her next move would shatter the illusion she had so carefully constructed./0/75424/coverorgin.jpg?v=22532312abb581bb0af87ccc4a8b6038&imageMogr2/format/webp)
A Heart Divided
When betrayal shatters his perfect life, noble heir Kaelan Thorne finds refuge in a humble tavern-and in Ivy, a fiery waitress with magic in her veins. But love in Eldoria comes at a cost. To protect her, Kaelan must confront his past, defy the elite, and risk everything for a future built on truth, not legacy./0/22079/coverorgin.jpg?v=8c5ae1ecffebf721df621e36a2d701fd&imageMogr2/format/webp)
He can't be here
JJ was always the "good" girl and never lived life or done anything just for fun. So her and her friends decide to take a trip and have an adventure together one that would be full of secrets but what happens when your one night stand in Vegas is the very man that could end up being your step-dad?/0/82933/coverorgin.jpg?v=6a89f068ad4757dfeb28fd17f119b579&imageMogr2/format/webp)
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./0/85436/coverorgin.jpg?v=136127be13fc0e28d899e07c81237791&imageMogr2/format/webp)
My Ring, Her Other Man
For ten years, I lived in the shadow of Sarah Jenkins, the nation' s biggest pop star, her secret husband, believing her promise that one day we' d reveal our love to the world. Then, on the biggest night of her career, accepting her Artist of the Year award, she dropped to one knee on live television. My heart soared-this was it. But her eyes skipped over me in the audience, landing instead on David Chen, her manager, as she pulled out the custom-designed engagement ring I had made for us, for our future. "David Chen," she shouted, "Will you marry me?" And he smirked, sliding my "forever ring" onto his finger, sealing their public embrace as confetti rained down. Watching my life' s symbol of hope twisted into a grotesque proposal for another man, followed by her sickeningly sweet lie that it was "just a stunt" while David's clothes filled our closet, snapped something inside me. The hollow ache filled with ice-cold fury-this wasn' t a stunt; it was a brazen, calculated betrayal, and I was just the inconvenient collateral damage. Picking up the phone, my voice steady despite the seismic shift in my world, I uttered the words that would finally set me free: "I want a divorce."/0/18481/coverorgin.jpg?v=1217a76e33e432047d9efbbb6c141d78&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Speak Softly Love
To refuse two hundred marriage proposals of a ‘ugly’ CEO she doesn’t love, Nina says she would rather marry a beggar than be his wife. When threatened to lose her family business, she has no choice but to marry a beggar. It turns out, the beggar is handsome and considerate to her. He always shows and protects her when she is bullied. He safeguards her home when she is drunk... Finally, she falls in love with this beggar husband. However, when the ‘ugly’ CEO reveals his mask, she sees the same face as her husband’s. The truth is he is her husband. She is angry at being cheated, and wants to have a divorce with him./0/84341/coverorgin.jpg?v=40eeb72b7246535fe656feb365de79b4&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Beyond The Broken Heart: Stella\'s Vengeance
My boyfriend, Caleb, was my family, my everything, for nearly two decades. He worked as a security guard for a spoiled tech heiress, Gabrielle, but our Fourth of July plans were finally just for us. Then a frantic call from his client shattered everything. Suddenly, we were on a deserted road, fireworks popping in the distance, when a "carjacking" erupted. As masked men attacked, Caleb didn't hesitate. He sprinted past me, sacrificing my safety to shield Gabrielle, whispering, "If anything happens to you, I can't live with myself." His words, and the knife searing my side, were a shock that cut deeper than any blade. I bled out on the asphalt, while Caleb fussed over Gabrielle's minor scratch. I woke up in a hospital, alone, only to hear nurses describe Caleb as the "devoted guard" who hadn't left Gabrielle's side. He eventually appeared, reeking of her perfume, offering pathetic excuses and blaming me for being "in the wrong place at the wrong time." Just then, Gabrielle, pristine and smug, was wheeled in. "We both had our panic buttons," she purred, "We were going to see who he'd save." She confirmed the carjacking was a setup, a twisted bet I never knew I was in. My world imploded. How could the man I loved, my family, orchestrate such a cruel betrayal, then abandon me for a sick game? He chose her, leaving me broken. But I wouldn't stay broken. This was just the beginning of my reckoning./0/86844/coverorgin.jpg?v=69ece4663e8a695be0763a6936e81770&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Seven Years of Poison
Ava Green pressed her back against the cool wood of her bedroom door, listening to the quiet hum of her foster home. Ahead of her, her foster brother, Jake Stone, held her close, his hands on her waist. For seven years, he had been her secret, a dangerous poison she had been drinking, waiting for his thirtieth birthday when he promised to finally claim her. But in a crowded bar, clutching his phone she had rushed to return, she overheard his cruel confession to his friends: she was merely a "convenient distraction," a "placeholder" until the "real thing," Chloe, was ready. The future she had so carefully built shattered around her. His words, "She's not Chloe. She's not the future Mrs. Stone," hit her like a physical blow. The seven years of whispered promises were a brutal lie. She was just a toy to be discarded. The phone grew impossibly heavy in her hand, her legs unsteady as she stumbled away from the bar, away from his laughter, into the cold night. Back in her room, a lifeline appeared: "Your Application to Architects Without Borders," an acceptance to a conflict zone in the Middle East. It felt perfect, a place to tear down her old life and build something new. She replied with two words that promised to erase him and everything he represented: "I accept."/0/80743/coverorgin.jpg?v=20260106194023&imageMogr2/format/webp)
My Stepbrother's Cruel Game
Winning a prestigious photography scholarship to New York City felt like my ticket to a new life, a future beyond the gilded cage of the Davenport mansion and my secret, forbidden love for my stepbrother, Ethan. Our intimate, years-long affair had been my most cherished secret, a tender rebellion. But then I overheard him, laughing. Our "romance" was nothing but a calculated game, a twisted revenge plot against my mother, designed to shatter her by utterly destroying my heart. My world crumbled, replaced by a chilling realization. The man I truly loved continued his sickening charade, playing the doting lover, even as his 'intended wife,' Chloe, openly taunted me, flaunting her knowledge of his cruel charade. Then came the ultimate, public humiliation: Chloe deliberately destroyed my deceased father's ashes, and Ethan, the supposed love of my life, coldly sided with her, accusing me instead. My heart didn't break; it simply emptied, leaving behind a cold, hard resolve where love once resided. How could I have been so blind, so used, so utterly betrayed by the one person I had dared to love, reduced to a disposable pawn in his hateful vendetta? Determined to sever every poisonous tie and leave no lingering debt, I meticulously amassed every penny to repay my stepfather. I systematically erased every trace of our shared past, and orchestrated a final, dramatic exit, leaving Ethan a devastating breakup note and the full repayment on his desk. As I finally boarded my flight for New York, I knew I was flying towards a new life, leaving behind the ashes of a love I was finally free from./0/98264/coverorgin.jpg?v=2dd1affd76cd7beb7701d98531e06aac&imageMogr2/format/webp)
A Child for His Best Friend
My fiancé, Eric Fletcher, wanted to have a child for his best female friend. That woman named Laurie Stephens believed in staying single, yet she wanted a descendant to carry on her genes. Eric chose to help her by putting our engagement on hold to honor his friendship. He tossed a "Sperm Donation and Joint Custody Agreement" in front of me, his tone cold and weary. "It's just about your insecurity, right? I added your name. All the property goes to you. Satisfied now? Sign it quick! Laurie's body couldn't wait for the optimal fertility window." I signed my name on the agreement calmly, then packed my sketchbooks without a word. Eric finally let out a sigh of relief, his face showing pure ease. He stepped closer to hug me, but I dodged away. "Once the child arrived and got on the birth certificate, we would marry right away. If you wanted, we could raise him together later. I would tell him you were a mom too." I tucked away that thin agreement and watched him indifferently as he started planning the nursery with excitement. He had no idea I had already arranged with his good buddy to get our marriage license next week./0/84654/coverorgin.jpg?v=0c73af2848fc4fc1382f66bc8efe05d8&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Our Enduring Flame
The crystal chandeliers glittered over the ballroom, a cold parody of joy as I stood in the shadows, a forgotten daughter at my father' s company anniversary. Then, the announcement shattered my carefully constructed composure: my stepsister, Clara, was engaged to Julian Croft, the only man who had ever shown me kindness in this suffocating life. His averted gaze, her cruel, triumphant smile directly at me-it was a public execution of my last fragile hope, a final, devastating blow after years of being blamed, dismissed, and having my mother' s legacy sold off for a symbolic dollar. How could the man I loved stand by while she destroyed me, just like my father had ignored my mother' s pain and my own cries for years? What twisted game was this, where their happiness was built on my ruin? Cut off and cast out, a mysterious stranger offered me a terrifying choice: remain a victim, or begin a war for justice, for my mother' s honor, and for myself./0/89660/coverorgin.jpg?v=378d582c1ac107f7675f9d8580508724&imageMogr2/format/webp)
His Unwanted Wife, His True Love
I was the Morgan family's charity case, secretly in love with their eldest son, Desmond. For years, he promised me a future, a life where I wasn't just the orphan they took in for good press. Then, at the dinner where I thought he would propose, he introduced me to his fiancée, a beautiful tech heiress. As I reeled from the heartbreak, his younger brother, Antone, swept in to comfort me. I fell for him, only to discover I was just a pawn in his game—he was secretly in love with Desmond's fiancée and was using me to keep me away from them. Before I could even process this second betrayal, the Morgan parents announced they were marrying me off to a disabled tech mogul in Seattle to secure another business deal. The final blow came on the family yacht. I fell into the ocean with the fiancée, and I watched as both brothers—the man I once loved and the man who pretended to love me—swam right past me to save her, leaving me to drown. In their eyes, I was nothing. A placeholder, a business asset, and ultimately, a sacrifice they were willing to make without a second thought. But I didn't die. As the private jet carried me to Seattle to marry a stranger, I took out my phone and deleted every last trace of the Morgan family from my life. My new life, whatever it held, had begun./0/22705/coverorgin.jpg?v=5682f346a9cf25ce7be4d5479ed1a7d2&imageMogr2/format/webp)
A NIGHT WITH BILLIONAIRE CEO
Somia accidentally spent a night with a billionaire CEO which she had any idea of who he is. So when she woke up in the morning she hoped that it was him that took advantages of her because she was drank. On that same day, Somia had an interview but it was when she got there that she knew that the guy was the Billionaire CEO of the company and it was his personal assistant that they were recruiting for. So this what brought them together again. ***** "Did you enjoy how I gave it to you? Very sweet!" She heard a very sweet voice coming out from the bathroom and a very handsome guy came out with her towel wrapped on his waist. He was cleaned from head to toes, fair in complexion and tall. He was fresh like today bread, had curly hair and a lovely blinking brown eye balls and a pointed nose. He was an half-caste, mixture of Nigeria and Arab. He mother was an Arabia when his father was Nigerian. He was the CEO of his father biggest company in Nigeria and they were among the billionaires family in Nigeria. The name of the handsome and romantic guy was Ashar. "It's you useless man that took advantages of me because I was drunk last night and brought me here. You are such a sameness guy, see you useless guy!" Walked closed to him and started beating him with her shoes and shouting at him. "Shut up! You were the one that came to meet me and I gave it to you. I see you love it. Am so hot! That was what you are shouting!" Said with smile on his face./1/101080/coverorgin.jpg?v=af7b569fb2bd14f281d2b95a35b1590b&imageMogr2/format/webp)
His Starlight, Her Fiery Reckoning
I was the secret lover of my CEO, Kristofer Gordon. He called me his "Starlight," and I, a brilliant but naive software engineer, believed him. Then he publicly chose his fragile childhood friend, Elenor, revealing I was nothing more than a disposable secret. The cruelty didn't stop there. He bought my late mother's necklace for Elenor, who taunted me by putting it on a stray dog. When I snapped and attacked her, Kristofer had me arrested and beaten in jail. Lying in a hospital bed, I learned the final truth from a gloating Elenor: Kristofer had secretly filmed every intimate moment we ever shared, holding the tapes as blackmail. He wanted to break me. He wanted me to suffer. But the woman he thought he destroyed died that day. I walked out, set his mansion on fire, and disappeared. This time, I would be the one in control./0/80274/coverorgin.jpg?v=20260106193319&imageMogr2/format/webp)
When the Wife Disappeared
My tenth wedding anniversary, but the simmering lobster bisque couldn’t mask the acrid taste of my husband’s lies. Mike, the man I’d built a life with, was openly having an affair with a twenty-something influencer, Skyler, her perfectly curated Instagram a brazen display of my unraveling world. The real agony began when our young son, Leo, innocently spoke of "Aunt Sky," recounting secret adventures and sugary treats, blissfully unaware he was a pawn in his father’s cruel game. Mike’s betrayal deepened into an insidious wound as he used our child, poisoning Leo against me, while claiming he was saving a vintage champagne for "a special occasion" that he'd uncork for Skyler on *our* anniversary. But the final, gut-wrenching blow came when Skyler sent a text: a picture of her draped provocatively across *my* bed, wearing *my* husband’s shirt, flaunting her conquest with a chilling message: "#Upgrade." My life, my home, my dignity, shattered into a million pieces, while he, completely oblivious, hummed about a "surprise" he had planned for my birthday. The pain, the humiliation, the sheer audacity of it all was suffocating; divorce felt too clean, too easy for him, as if he could simply walk away unscathed. My heart splintered further when Leo, confused and innocent, asked if "Aunt Sky" would be his new mommy, a question Mike himself had evidently planted. There was no turning back, no hope for repair; in that moment of absolute despair and righteous fury, I knew Ellie Hayes had to die. And Mike Hayes, the man who had stolen my future and poisoned my son, would watch his entire world burn down around him, ensuring he would finally pay the true, devastating price for his betrayal./0/81682/coverorgin.jpg?v=864cb6b56f5f6818ca9e7b8866151b7c&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Davenport Wives' Reckoning
My life in Boston, married to the man I adored, Liam, and embraced by my incredible mother-in-law Eleanor, was a dream. Sheltered by Eleanor' s modern wit from the stuffy Davenport family' s expectations, I felt truly happy and secure. Then came Eleanor' s frantic call. Her voice, shaking, shattered my illusion of perfection: Arthur, the family patriarch, had moved another woman into our guesthouse. My stomach clenched as I confessed Liam had also grown distant, constantly working late with a new "business associate" set up in a corporate apartment. The ultimate public dismissal arrived when our husbands brazenly excluded us from the annual family gala. Eleanor' s swift investigation uncovered the brutal truth: Liam was openly escorting his "associate," Agent Walker, who the firm treated with alarming familiarity. It became horrifyingly clear-we were being discarded, replaced like outdated accessories. The betrayal felt like a gut punch, a painful echo of the quiet suffering endured by generations of women in our families. How could the men who pledged to love and protect us abandon us so cruelly? The pain was unbearable, the humiliation profound. But Eleanor, a sharp former tech CEO, refused to be a victim. Her eyes blazing with a fierce resolve, she declared, "If they want new lives, we'll start ours. A better one." Our audacious plan: fake our deaths during the gala, disappear without a trace, and reclaim our freedom. A plan that, amidst its desperate chaos, led to a shocking discovery: we were both pregnant with their children./0/42260/coverorgin.jpg?v=65b7e1b19472c34bc1abc7fb89e28ed0&imageMogr2/format/webp)
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The Divorce That Changed Everything
The "Brewery of the Year" award felt like a cold stone in my hand, heavy with the unspoken weight of my wife, Jenny's, silence. She was the General Manager, the face on stage, thanking everyone but me, the head brewer, the one who actually crafted the award-winning beer. I was used to being invisible, just "Ethan Clark, the technician," a replaceable employee in her eyes, despite being the silent 65% owner of the brewery I started with my college roommate. At the party, a sales rep asked when Jenny and I would start a "brewing dynasty," and she laughed a sharp, dismissive laugh. "I'm not putting my career on hold to have a baby for any man. It's not worth it." Her words hung in the air, a public declaration that numbed me. Back home, I found a package from a fertility clinic addressed to her. My heart pounded as I opened it. Inside, a detailed IVF statement confirmed she was one month pregnant. Then, my blood ran cold: the donor was listed as "Wesley Todd." Wes, her "gay best friend," the man with the pitying, contemptuous gaze. The pieces slammed into place. She stormed in an hour later with Wes, scoffing at my divorce demand. "It's not about the joke, Jenny," I said, voice flat. She brazenly explained her twisted plan: "Wes's family is very conservative... I agreed to be a surrogate for him. We did IVF. We're going to have a modern family together." The audacity, the gaslighting, the sheer arrogance of their betrayal left me with a wave of pure disgust. "The divorce is final," I told them. "And I'm selling the house. You have twenty-four hours." The next morning, they tried to fire me from my own brewery, strutting in with fake authority. That' s when my CEO, Matthew, finally revealed the truth to a stunned Jenny: "He was never just an employee, Jenny. He's the boss. He's always been the boss." Why did she, the woman who claimed "visionary leadership," never bother to check who truly owned the company she flaunted? And what dark secrets about her and Wes were about to spill out?/0/40070/coverorgin.jpg?v=2605cd7af4a2b326aacf20aa9aac5353&imageMogr2/format/webp)
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