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Romance Books for Women

Bestsellers Ongoing Completed
His Art, Her Agony

His Art, Her Agony

The relentless buzz of my phone announced another rejection, a common melody in the life of a struggling indie filmmaker. Then, my best friend' s panicked face flashed on screen: "Chloe, have you seen the news? It\'s Ethan. His new exhibition. It\'s everywhere." A cold dread washed over me-Ethan, my estranged artist-husband, whose art had always blurred the lines of our life. But what I saw on that major art blog wasn\'t art; it was a violation: intimate photos of me, twisted into a public spectacle, portraying me as his "tragic muse." The comments section exploded: #JusticeForChloe, #CancelEthanMiller, yet it felt like a new form of torment, a public stripping of my privacy. I stormed to his loft, demanding answers, only for him to shrug, "It\'s art, Chloe. It\'s supposed to tell the truth." He stood there, casually threatening to expose painful, private moments to my traditional grandmother if I didn\'t publicly apologize and collaborate in his twisted narrative. Before I could process his cruelty, the phone rang again-the nursing home. My grandmother had fallen. She died in the hospital, her last words a plea for me to be strong, to not let anyone make me feel small, as my humiliated face was plastered across the news. When I returned to the loft, Ethan was there with his new muse, Ava, who, feigning sympathy, accidentally revealed she knew about my grandmother' s death. Then, a charity gala, a public relations stunt, where Ethan unveiled a new sculpture-encasing my grandmother\'s stolen locket, pulled directly from her grave. Ava tearfully accused me, playing the perfect victim, implying I had desecrated her grave for art. Ethan, without hesitation, believed her, his eyes filled with a cold, performative fury, declaring me a monster and having me dragged away. Trapped, discarded, then brutally beaten by Ethan under Ava' s gleeful gaze, I realized the full depth of their monstrous betrayal. My world was shattered, my body broken, but in the ruins of my spirit, a cold, unwavering resolve began to form: Chloe Davis had to die, so Aria Sinclair could rise and burn his world to the ground.
The Employee I Married Was a Billionaire Heir

The Employee I Married Was a Billionaire Heir

Chloe went to her boyfriend's apartment with a homemade cake and a luxury watch she'd saved months to buy, eager to surprise him for their two-year anniversary. Instead, she found the door unlocked and heard familiar moans coming from the bedroom. He was sleeping with her sister, Jacey. When Chloe's adoptive family rushed over, they didn't comfort her. Her mother hugged the weeping Jacey, while her father and brother told Chloe to step aside for the sake of the family's reputation. Her mother sneered that since they saved her from a fire twenty years ago, she owed them this. Then, to squeeze the last drop of value out of her, they took a fifty-thousand-dollar bribe and tried to force Chloe to marry a balding, predatory older man just to buy her brother a new car. Twenty years of devotion meant absolutely nothing. She was just a disposable tool. Cornered in a public restaurant by the repulsive old man and her hypocritical ex-boyfriend, Chloe felt completely suffocated by the humiliation and despair. There was nowhere left to run. Just as the old man grabbed her, a towering, impossibly handsome stranger stepped out of nowhere and effortlessly shattered his wrist. He looked down at her with cold, steady eyes. "You need a way to get away from your family. Marry me." Without hesitation, she took his hand, completely unaware that her new husband of convenience was actually a top-tier billionaire who had been searching for her for years.