Romance Books for Women
Bestsellers Ongoing Completed
/1/106591/coverorgin.jpg?v=60130d2fb865880aba4658a48f41a951&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Flash Marriage To My Best Friend's Father
I was once the heiress to the Solomon empire, but after it crumbled, I became the "charity case" ward of the wealthy Hyde family. For years, I lived in their shadows, clinging to the promise that Anson Hyde would always be my protector. That promise shattered when Anson walked into the ballroom with Claudine Chapman on his arm. Claudine was the girl who had spent years making my life a living hell, and now Anson was announcing their engagement to the world. The humiliation was instant. Guests sneered at my cheap dress, and a waiter intentionally sloshed champagne over me, knowing I was a nobody. Anson didn't even look my way; he was too busy whispering possessively to his new fiancée. I was a ghost in my own home, watching my protector celebrate with my tormentor. The betrayal burned. I realized I wasn't a ward; I was a pawn Anson had kept on a shelf until he found a better trade. I had no money, no allies, and a legal trust fund that Anson controlled with a flick of his wrist. Fleeing to the library, I stumbled into Dallas Koch—a titan of industry and my best friend’s father. He was a wall of cold, absolute power that even the Hydes feared. "Marry me," I blurted out, desperate to find a shield Anson couldn't climb. Dallas didn't laugh. He pulled out a marriage agreement and a heavy fountain pen. "Sign," he commanded, his voice a low rumble. "But if you walk out that door with me, you never go back." I signed my name, trading my life for the only man dangerous enough to keep me safe./1/102860/coverorgin.jpg?v=fd4279179a94dd229627ce7640bf190d&imageMogr2/format/webp)
He Thought I Was A Doormat, Until I Ruined Him
The sterile white of the operating room blurred, then sharpened, as Skye Sterling felt the cold clawing its way up her body. The heart monitor flatlined, a steady, high-pitched whine announcing her end. Her uterus had been removed, a desperate attempt to stop the bleeding, but the blood wouldn't clot. It just kept flowing, warm and sticky, pooling beneath her. Through heavy eyes, she saw a trembling nurse holding a phone on speaker. "Mr. Kensington," the nurse's voice cracked, "your wife... she's critical." A pause, then a sweet, poisonous giggle. Seraphina Miller. "Liam is in the shower," Seraphina's voice purred. "Stop calling, Skye. It's pathetic. Faking a medical emergency on our anniversary? Even for you, that's low." Then, Liam's bored voice: "If she dies, call the funeral home. I have a meeting in the morning." Click. The line went dead. A second later, so did Skye. The darkness that followed was absolute, suffocating, a black ocean crushing her lungs. She screamed into the void, a silent, agonizing wail of regret for loving a man who saw her as a nuisance, for dying without ever truly living. Until she died, she didn't understand. Why was her life so tragically wasted? Why did her husband, the man she loved, abandon her so cruelly? The injustice of it all burned hotter than the fever in her body. Then, the air rushed back in. Skye gasped, her body convulsing violently on the mattress. Her eyes flew open, wide and terrified, staring blindly into the darkness. Her trembling hand reached for her phone. May 12th. Five years ago. She was back./1/105410/coverorgin.jpg?v=a5437111c15a40b1920987fddb1ddf34&imageMogr2/format/webp)
One Night With My Billionaire Boss
I woke up on silk sheets that smelled of expensive cedar and cold sandalwood, a world away from my cramped apartment in Brooklyn. Beside me lay Ezra Gardner—my boss, the billionaire CEO of Gardner Holdings, and the man who could end my career with a snap of his fingers. He didn’t offer an apology for the night before; instead, he looked at me with terrifying clarity and proposed a cold, calculated business arrangement. "Marriage. It stabilizes the board and solves the PR crisis before it begins." He dressed me in archival Chanel and sent me home in his Maybach, but my life was already falling apart. My boyfriend, Irving, claimed he had passed out early, yet his location data placed him at my best friend’s apartment until three in the morning. When I tried to run, I realized Ezra was already ten steps ahead, tracking my movements and uncovering the secret I’d spent twenty years hiding: my connection to the powerful Senator Grimes. I was trapped between a CEO who treated me like a line item on a quarterly report and a boyfriend who had been using me while sleeping with my closest friend. I felt like a pawn in a game I didn't understand, wondering why a man like Ezra would walk up forty flights of stairs on a broken leg just to make sure I was safe. "Showtime, Mrs. Gardner." Standing on the red carpet in a gown that cost more than my life, I watched my cheating ex-boyfriend’s face turn pale as Ezra claimed me in front of the world. I wasn't just an assistant anymore; I was a weapon, and it was time to burn their world down./1/101926/coverorgin.jpg?v=368e7983714c1a0bd18be7d5ea10f6b7&imageMogr2/format/webp)
My Husband's Blindness, My Sweet Revenge
The roasted lamb was cold, a reflection of her marriage. On their third anniversary, Evelyn Vance waited alone in her Manhattan penthouse. Then her phone buzzed: Alexander, her husband, had been spotted leaving the hospital, holding his childhood sweetheart Scarlett Sharp's hand. Alexander arrived hours later, dismissing Evelyn's quiet complaint with a cold reminder: she was Mrs. Vance, not a victim. Her mother's demands reinforced this role, making Evelyn, a brilliant mind, feel like a ghost. A dangerous indifference replaced betrayal. The debt was paid; now, it was her turn. She drafted a divorce settlement, waiving everything. As Alexander's tender voice drifted from his study, speaking to Scarlett, Evelyn placed her wedding ring on his pillow, moved to the guest suite, and locked the door. The dull wife was gone; the Oracle was back./1/106250/coverorgin.jpg?v=e4e3d94e67e6bc16aef1c6b8ac1afa18&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Broken Ring, Billionaire Secrets: Watch Me Shine
I sat on the edge of the examination table, the crinkle of the sanitary paper sounding like thunder in the sterile room. The doctor didn't even look at me as he confirmed the news: the pregnancy was over. My husband, Keyon, didn't answer my call. He just sent an automated text: "In a meeting." When I returned to our cold mansion, I found his iPad glowing with a message from his "muse," Katina. He was throwing her a secret gala tonight-on our third wedding anniversary. He told her he couldn't wait to escape the "boring" and "draining" atmosphere I created at home. Keyon didn't stumble in until 3 AM, smelling of Katina's perfume with a smear of red on his collar. When I handed him the divorce papers, he laughed in my face. He called me a "glorified housekeeper" with no skills and no future, promising I'd be back in three days begging for a subway ticket. He even bet his friends ten thousand dollars that I wouldn't survive a week without his name. He had his assistant cancel my credit cards and block my gate access before I even reached the end of the driveway. He wanted me to starve. He wanted me to crawl. He sat in his office, mocking the "desperate" woman who pawned her three-million-dollar wedding ring for scrap metal just to pay for a meal. I stood on the rainy curb, watching the man I had protected for three years treat my life like trash. He didn't know about the ultrasound I just threw in the bin. He didn't know that while he was calling me "dull," I was the one secretly writing the code that kept his billion-dollar empire from collapsing. As I slid into a cheap Uber, I opened a hidden, encrypted app on my phone. The screen refreshed to a dashboard for an account Keyon didn't know existed. The balance was ten figures long-the accumulated wealth of "Solaris," the world's most elusive tech genius. Keyon thinks he just evicted a parasite, but he's about to find out he just declared war on the only person who can hit "delete" on his entire life./1/101922/coverorgin.jpg?v=85446ccd5cc7810ecc42f10e6e51a892&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Burned By Him, Reborn A Star
The acrid smell of smoke still clung to Evelyn in the ambulance, her lungs raw from the penthouse fire. She was alive, but the world around her felt utterly destroyed, a feeling deepened by the small TV flickering to life. On it, her husband, Julian Vance, thousands of miles away, publicly comforted his mistress, Serena Holloway, shielding her from paparazzi after *her* "panic attack." Julian's phone went straight to voicemail. Alone in the hospital with second-degree burns, Evelyn watched news replays, her heart rate spiking. He protected Serena from camera flashes while Evelyn burned. When he finally called, he demanded she handle insurance, dismissing the fire; Serena's voice faintly heard. The shallow family ties and pretense of marriage evaporated. A searing injustice and cold anger replaced pain; Evelyn knew Julian had chosen to let her burn. "Evelyn Vance died in that fire," she declared, ripping out her IV. Armed with a secret fortune as "The Architect," Hollywood's top ghostwriter, she walked out. She would divorce Julian, reclaim her name, and finally step into the spotlight as an actress./1/101428/coverorgin.jpg?v=a6edc7fa863c44c8d677b68f6b8753a9&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Pregnant and Divorced: I Hid His Heir
Vivian clutched her Hermès bag, her doctor's words echoing: "Extremely high-risk pregnancy." She hoped the baby would save her cold marriage, but Julian wasn't in London as his schedule claimed. Instead, a paparazzi photo revealed his early return-with a blonde woman, not his wife, at the private airport exit. The next morning, Julian served divorce papers, callously ending their "duty" marriage for his ex, Serena. A horrifying contract clause gave him the right to terminate her pregnancy or seize their child. Humiliated, demoted, and forced to fake an ulcer, Vivian watched him parade his affair, openly discarding her while celebrating Serena. This was a calculated erasure, not heartbreak. He cared only for his image, confirming he would "handle" the baby himself. A primal rage ignited her. "Just us," she whispered to her stomach, vowing to sign the divorce on her terms, keep her secret safe, and walk away from Sterling Corp for good, ready to protect her child alone./1/101927/coverorgin.jpg?v=51f6847b2406445f6142e9710ec1d533&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Reborn Rich, My Vengeance Rises
My husband, Ethan Vance, made me his trophy wife. My best friend, Susanna Thorne, helped me pick out my wedding dress. Together, they made me a fool. For three years, I was Mrs. Ethan Vance, a decorative silence in his billion-dollar world, living a quiet routine until a forgotten phone charger led me to his office. The low, feminine laugh from behind his door was a gut-punch; inside, I found Ethan and Susanna, my "best friend" and his CMO, tangled on his sofa, his only reaction irritation. My divorce declaration brought immediate scorn and threats. I was fired, my accounts frozen, and publicly smeared as an unstable gold-digger. Even my own family disowned me for my last cent, only for me to be framed for assault and served a restraining order. Broke, injured, and utterly demonized, they believed I was broken, too ashamed to fight. But their audacious betrayal and relentless cruelty only forged a cold, unyielding resolve. Slumped alone, a restraining order in hand, I remembered my hidden journal: a log of Ethan's insider trading secrets. They wanted a monster? I would show them one./1/105558/coverorgin.jpg?v=8662f5847ea4a25108be248289a510be&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Billionaire's Regret: My Tortured Ex-Wife
My husband stood by the window of his Manhattan office, his silhouette cutting through the storm like a blade. He didn't even look at me as he tossed the divorce papers onto the desk, his voice a cold baritone. "Sign it," Isaiah commanded, "or your brother’s dialysis treatment ends today." He believed the lie that I had pushed his pregnant mistress down a flight of stairs in a jealous rage. To save my dying brother, I signed the confession and accepted the role of a murderer, trading my freedom for a life of disgrace. At the funeral, Isaiah forced me to crawl on my knees through the freezing mud to the grave while a mob of mourners spat on me and cursed my name. When I went to prison, his influence followed me into the showers, where inmates told me the King wanted me to "remember my crime" before they used rusty shears to hack off my finger. Five years later, I was a ghost living in a damp basement with the son Isaiah never knew I had, hiding my mangled hand under a leather glove. When he eventually tracked us down, he didn't show mercy; he tore my son from my arms, calling me an unfit monster and swearing I would rot in a cage. I couldn't understand how the man I once loved could look at my broken body and see only a criminal, never realizing that every scar I carried was a gift from his own hatred. As he walked away with my child, I swallowed a bottle of pills to end the nightmare, leaving Isaiah to rip the glove from my hand and discover the mangled truth just as my eyes finally closed./0/56699/coverorgin.jpg?v=77af159c277b1231f0a6437742ea9c85&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Dear Ex-wife, Be Mine Again!
After three years of loveless marriage, Kira was slapped with divorce papers. She has shown him her unrequited love throughout her entire marriage with him, but he decided to turn blind eyes all because of his lover. Distraught and heartbroken, Kira choose to sign the divorce papers with bitter heart. But then and there, she promised herself that when she's back, he will come crawling to her, but she will make him pay for hurting her. Join Kira as she transform to a wealthy heiress and soared as the CEO of a multi-billion-dollar empire, a remarkable healer and make her ex-husband pay!/1/107278/coverorgin.jpg?v=e4d8d5a9ebeca863f5a880c0584495b9&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Daddy's filthy little pet
Rae just wanted to lose her virginity and forget the name of the boy who ruined her first time. So when her wild best friend dares her to visit Club Obsidian - a secret invite-only pleasure club where older men pick submissive girls for one unforgettable night - Rae agrees. She expected nerves. She expected heat. She didn't expect a hot and sexy tattooed stranger in his forties with a tongue piercing, three rings, and a voice that could melt bone. He didn't ask for her name. He just whispered, "Dance for me, kitten." And by morning, Rae was ruined - in the best way possible. But her world shatters when she walks into her mother's house... and finds him standing in the living room. Because the man who owned her body last night? Is her stepfather's brother. Her step-uncle. Now he's living in the pool house, teasing her at dinner, flexing shirtless by the pool, and whispering filthy things when no one's around. He says it was supposed to be one night. But the way he touches her? The way he stares at her like he's starving? He doesn't want to let go. And neither does she. Even if it means losing everything./1/101429/coverorgin.jpg?v=7121dba501d58d4b7f38fe8685249f29&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Billionaire's Cruelty, My Secret Daughter
The thunder cracked over the Hamptons, but it was nothing compared to Elena Sharp's scream. She lay twisted on the marble foyer, accusing me of trying to kill her baby. My husband, Julian, walked in, saw the scene, and his eyes froze me out of his life forever. He didn't listen, shoving a separation agreement across the desk, accusing me of murder. Stripped of my name and home, I was thrown out, left with nothing but my clothes and a terrifying secret growing inside me. My accounts frozen, I ended up in a crumbling Philadelphia row house, forced to pawn heirlooms. During a fire, my water broke, and I delivered our premature daughter, June, whose lungs were damaged. I stole formula to feed her, facing massive medical bills. Accused of destroying an heir, I was exiled while carrying his true legacy, fighting for every breath. The injustice burned, but June's life was my only fight. Three years later, June needed life-saving surgery. Julian's dying grandmother called me back with the funds, forcing a cruel charade with the man who hated me, a man still oblivious to his daughter./1/100277/coverorgin.jpg?v=a4fea1fdc9d0fa68fb8662fe22e4b1f7&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Forced to Marry my Ex-Boyfriend's Psychopath Older Brother
"I should have refused." I shook my head, my eyes sweeping towards the silver eyed devil standing before me, with no ounce of guilt or remorse in his eyes. "I should have never married you." "That hurts my feeling." That was a cruel joke, because we both know that he doesn't even have feelings to begin with. "But there isn't any man who could love you like I do; not even Thorne." I paused when his long, cold index finger trailed my face stopping at my lips, and his eyes met mine again. They were dark... with lust. "Fuck you." I muttered with hate and anger dripping in my voice. "I believe even right now, all you want is me." He mused and he wasn't wrong, because he never said I couldn't leave. Yet, I found myself staying, and hoping he would change. "And all that completes me is you." I shut my eyes as he slammed his lips against mine. *** Eden Montclair is your everyday surgeon who tries to get by every surgery without complications, she has created high hopes for herself that she would inherit her grandmother's hospital. She soon finds out that the hospital was dying and they might need to merger it with the biggest healthcare foundation in the country, only on the condition that her little sister, Evangeline marries the heir to the foundation. Eden's life soon falls into chaos when Evangeline ran away to avoid that fate, and now Eden is in the front line to marry the Heir of the Adler Foundation. Theron Adler. A cold-blooded and precise surgeon, who doesn't have many interests in life, and a diagnosed psychopath. That's not all, he is also the elder brother of her ex-boyfriend and they both had history together./0/60162/coverorgin.jpg?v=84c384ac333dc7660883044f9c60f214&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Billionaire's Runaway Bride Is The World's Coveted Treasure
She was a world-famous biologist of extraordinary genius, while he was the privileged heir to an elite family, renowned for his unmatched intellect and headline-making achievements. She deliberately pursued him, treating their union as a calculated, high-stakes gamble to bear a child inheriting his brilliant mind and superior genes. With her objective fulfilled, she planned to vanish without a trace, severing every tie. But he met her with a cold, mocking smile. "Leave whenever you like. But the child stays with me." He initially dismissed her as a penniless opportunist-until he learned she was no ordinary woman, but a rare, coveted treasure chased by the world's elite. In reality, she ruled a billion-dollar empire as its mysterious CEO, wielded mysterious healing powers, and stood as an acclaimed global researcher whose work inspired awe. Amid all her hidden layers, he was well aware of one thing-he would never agree to a divorce./1/106648/coverorgin.jpg?v=80eccfd84259f20bf1c3913dc7f3cb9c&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Mated To My Dead Husband's Twin
I thought marrying into the Barrett dynasty would be my fairy tale, but my wedding day felt more like a business merger. My husband, Jarret, didn't even look at me as he checked his watch at the altar, treating our marriage like a political chore. Two months later, the world shattered when Jarret's diplomatic convoy was bombed. The news reported him dead, with his twin brother Jayden as the sole survivor. When "Jayden" returned to the estate limping on a cane, the house became a tomb. My mother-in-law and our cousin Cristine immediately moved to freeze my bank accounts and strip me of my rights, calling me a "greedy climber." I was a widow in a house of wolves, but the real nightmare started when I saw "Jayden" drop his cane and passionately kiss Jarret's mistress in the dark. I crept to the study and heard the bone-chilling truth: Jarret wasn't the one who died. He had murdered his own brother in the blast to steal his identity and become a "surviving hero." Even worse, he was already planning my "accidental" overdose once I signed over the family trust. My blood ran cold as I realized the gentle, calloused hands that touched me on my wedding night hadn't belonged to my husband at all. I had fallen in love with Jayden, the man Jarret had just vaporized for a promotion. I tried to escape, but they caught me and forced a sedative into my arm. When I woke up, the family doctor was standing over me with a predatory smile. "Congratulations, Elise. You're ten weeks pregnant." Jarret leaned over my bed, his eyes cold and victorious. They aren't going to kill me anymore. They've turned me into an incubator for an heir, trapped in a golden cage with the monster who murdered the father of my child./1/106621/coverorgin.jpg?v=e45186b16a7098d912e2d5459e96c32b&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Billionaire’s Contract: Revenge On My Ex
I was a top-tier model with a fiancé I trusted to manage every cent I earned. I thought we were building a life together until a blown fuse at the studio sent me home twenty minutes early. The silence of the penthouse was broken by a trail of clothes: Haywood’s silk tie, then a red-soled stiletto that belonged to Brandy, the girl I had mentored like a sister. Through the bedroom door, I watched the man I loved tell his mistress that I was "yesterday's news" while they tangled in the sheets I had picked out six months ago. I didn't scream; I just turned to leave, but the betrayal went deeper than the bedroom. When I checked my banking app, my balance was exactly $12.45. Haywood had liquidated every holding account and savings entry I owned, using a "tax strategy" he’d convinced me of to steal my entire past. Within hours, the man who robbed me was planting stories in the press, claiming I was having a drug-fueled breakdown. He wanted me penniless, homeless, and discredited so no one would believe the truth. He even tried to force me into a "rehab" facility to silence me forever while he promoted his pregnant mistress. I stood on a New York curb with nothing left but a desperate, insane idea born from a headline on my phone. Isham Rhodes, the most ruthless CEO in the city, needed a wife by thirty to keep his empire, and I needed a shield to survive mine. "Mr. Rhodes, I hear you need a puppet," I said, intercepting him in the rain outside City Hall. "I don't want your love. I want a legal document that makes me untouchable." He didn't ask for a romance; he asked for my ID. Now, with a billionaire’s black card in my pocket and a marriage certificate in my hand, I’m going back to the agency to take back everything they stole. The war has just begun./1/101418/coverorgin.jpg?v=d2f85018e2899e922621a98046c4cb2c&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Abandoned Wife, Billionaire Revenge
My husband promised me forever, but gave me endless lies. On our anniversary, I found his secrets on social media, exposed by his mistress. He didn't just break my heart; he broke my entire world. Seraphina sat alone in her opulent mansion, preparing their anniversary dinner, feeling the suffocating weight of her cold, hollow marriage. An Instagram post from Tiffany Sloan then brazenly revealed Harrison's hand at a romantic dinner, shattering his flimsy excuses and exposing his blatant infidelity. The betrayal turned Seraphina's despair into cold resolve. He gaslighted her, dismissed her pain, and reminded her she was "nothing." He chose his mistress over her dying brother, caused her to break an ankle, and finally abandoned her on a desolate street corner, stripped of dignity. How could she have sacrificed her entire violin career for a man who so casually discarded her? Under that bridge, her foolish love died, leaving only a fierce desire for reclamation. Shivering and alone, a faded flyer for a violin teacher caught her eye. It was a defiant whisper of her old self, a promise: Seraphina Vanderbilt was gone, and a new Seraphina was finally free./0/91281/coverorgin.jpg?v=7d27a06bfb0ee1fe338aedeb8879ce17&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Too Late for Sorry (Chasing my Wife Back)
ADRIAN Cole had it all. Wealth, power, a beautiful wife, and a daughter who adored him. But one mistake... one affair... and one phone call from his mistress was enough to shatter the perfect life he thought he controlled. When Amelia walked away, she didn't just leave her husband behind, she carried a secret of her own, a secret that would change everything. Now Adrian is left chasing shadows of the woman who once loved him, realizing too late that money and pride can't heal the wounds of betrayal. But the road back to Amelia's heart isn't just blocked by her pain, it's poisoned by the jealousy of her own sister, whose hidden hatred runs deeper than anyone could imagine. Caught between regret, family betrayal, and the fight for the woman he once took for granted, Adrian must prove that his love is real this time. But what if Amelia's forgiveness is the one thing he can never buy back? A story of betrayal, heartbreak, and redemption. Will love survive when it's already too late for sorry?/0/80957/coverorgin.jpg?v=f949ee76f8b710e2f1b1e79cc1225ef8&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Secret Heiress.
Betrayed by her ex-husband and unjustly sent to jail, Tamara discovers deep secrets about her past, including her true identity and a long-lost lover. As she understands a life turned upside down, she faces relentless enemies and an undeniable attraction to Richard Garrison, the most sought-after bachelor and billionaire in town. Despite swearing off men, Tamara finds herself irresistibly drawn to Richard, challenging her and igniting a passion she thought she'd buried forever. Can she trust him with her heart, or will her past haunt her, threatening everything she's fought to reclaim?/1/108145/coverorgin.jpg?v=54c74055f09d5ecc619f2339ccd53ab4&imageMogr2/format/webp)
