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Romance Books for Women

Bestsellers Ongoing Completed
Master Brian's maid

Master Brian's maid

Jane lost her family when she was young, she was captured by adopters and sold to traffickers. While on the run, Jane ran into Brian, who helped her escape the traffickers. Brian hires Jane as his maid but on the other hand forces her to submit unconditionally to his requests. A week has passed, Jane has gradually adjusted to life in the Lawrence mansion. Jane is used to Brian's irritation and scolding, she will not think much and be sad about it, Jane'll spend her time making things out of shells, which Jane enjoys most in her spare time. But Brian did not let her go, he forced her to stay with him. Brian looked at Jane with a ghostly smile and said: “Take off your panties and come closer.” Jane shyly took off her panties, she slowly approached Brian's side. He saw this and ordered further: “Sit on my lap.” Jane walked over to Brian and sat on his lap. Brian looked at Jane inquiringly, he continued: “Take off your shirt.” Jane slowly unbuttoned each button on her body. Brian looked at Jane without taking his eyes off her, he pressed his face to Jane's, reached out his tongue and lightly licked her cheek. He moved his tongue skillfully and gently down Jane's small lips. Then Brian touched her most private place, he used his hand to gently massage it, causing Jane to moan softly, slowly in and out. Brian whispered in Jane's ear: "Do you like it?" Jane shook her head: "Please stop.". Brian heard Jane say that and immediately laughed out loud, he stopped for a moment and then bit her shoulder hard, causing Jane to scream in pain: “Ah…Please, stop, I was wrong.”
The Day I Died, She Finally Knew My Truth

The Day I Died, She Finally Knew My Truth

I walked out of Chino State Prison, a free man, but my body carried a death sentence. The clanging gates closed behind me, a period at the end of five lost years. The California sun felt too bright on my face, and my lungs burned with the fatal lung cancer I’d contracted inside. I had one final wish: to have my ashes scattered at Point Sublime, a remote, sacred spot in the Grand Canyon I’d promised to share with Olivia, years ago, our forever place. But then Olivia Hayes, my past love, now engaged to my former best friend and tormentor, Marcus Thorne, appeared. Her eyes, once full of youthful adoration, now seethed with pure, unadulterated hatred. She offered me a job: her personal driver, not out of kindness, but out of a cold desire for me to witness everything I had supposedly ruined. I took the job, enduring her glacial contempt and Marcus's sadistic pleasure day after agonizing day, as my failing health rapidly withered beneath my uniform. I coughed up blood in secret, retrieved her family heirloom ring from an icy pool at Marcus’s cruel behest, and pulled her from a burning guesthouse, letting Marcus claim the credit for my heroism. Every interaction was a fresh twist of the knife, a public humiliation for a crime I didn’t commit, but chose to embrace. They called me a murderer, a reckless monster, a lifelong convict, always oblivious to the truth: I had taken the fall for her mother’s suicide, sacrificing my freedom and reputation, to protect Olivia and her family’s stained name from further ruin. I had lost everything for her, only to become the very person she now despised, fueling her relentless cruelty. Then Marcus’s reckless accident left him bleeding out, urgently needing my rare blood type. Olivia, desperate to save the man who reveled in my suffering, came to me. She didn’t ask; she demanded my life. And with my last breath, still loving her unconditionally, I gave it.
Isabelle's Downfall: A Twisted Love Story

Isabelle's Downfall: A Twisted Love Story

Tomorrow, I, Ethan Reed, was set to marry Isabelle Davenport, the exquisite old-money bride who promised a future of prestige and endless possibilities. Our lavish rehearsal dinner glowed with anticipation, my parents beaming with pride as their "new money" son married into established aristocracy. Then, a chilling phone call shattered everything. "I'm pregnant, Ethan," Isabelle whispered, "It's Liam's." My world tilted, instantly replaced by a wave of nausea and disbelief. She didn't stop there. Isabelle demanded I postpone the wedding indefinitely, quit my career to support them, and even insisted their relationship be openly acknowledged, with Liam, her step-brother and the baby's father, moving into our condo. The next indignity: she had my belongings, including my beloved grandmother's irreplaceable quilt, dumped on the curb, then maliciously desecrated the quilt itself with cigarette burns. The final blow came when Liam staged a pathetic suicide attempt, and Isabelle, her eyes blazing, tried to force me to apologize, even offering me a letter opener to "understand his pain" by cutting myself. How could the woman I loved be so utterly manipulative, so cruelly deluded? My future, meticulously planned, lay in toxic ruins. But amidst the devastation, a memory resurfaced, a lifeline in the darkness. Today was my 30th birthday. And a childhood pact with my best friend, Chloe: "If you hit the big three-oh still single, Ethan Reed, you're mine. We marry each other. Deal?" Just as I stood broken, she appeared, the small gift in her hand, her eyes clear and steady. "A deal's a deal, Ethan," she said, cutting through the ash of my ruined life. "Marry me, Ethan. In three days. I'll handle everything."