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Romance Books for Women

Bestsellers Ongoing Completed
The Lover Who Destroyed Her

The Lover Who Destroyed Her

I was a rising architect, deeply in love with Ethan Miller, my charismatic colleague who promised me a future. He called me his muse, swore he' d make me his wife. I believed him. Then came the crisis: a critical error in our biggest project, threatening the whole firm. In the packed conference room, under harsh lights, Ethan pointed directly at me. "Yes, it was her fault," he stated, clear and steady. The entire room turned. I became a pariah overnight, accused of fraud and disgrace. Colleagues whispered, mentors condemned me. The pain was unbearable, but Ethan only offered cold indifference, his attention now solely on Sarah Jenkins, his junior assistant. I collapsed in a forgotten office, suffering for days. When I finally found Ethan, he was tenderly bandaging Sarah's minor cut, just as he had in our previous life while I fended for myself. He dragged me away, his fingers digging into my arm. "Sarah' s injury is more pressing, Olivia. Why do you always have to compete with her? She' s delicate." I tried to leave the firm, but Ethan and the executives forced me to take the fall, signing a brutal severance and an NDA to protect Sarah' s career. Sarah flaunted Ethan' s mother' s watch, the one he' d given me when he proposed in our previous life, and announced their engagement. "Ethan and I are getting married. You'll wish us happiness, won't you?" Why was he doing this to me again? And why was I so readily accepting my ruin? My spirit was shattered, my body broken, yet I couldn't comprehend the depths of his betrayal, or the sinister logic behind his actions. But this time, I wouldn't just accept it. The memory of his cruelty, intertwined with the desperate kindness of a childhood friend, would soon chart a new course, away from the torment and into a fight for peace.
Love's Toxic Echo

Love's Toxic Echo

I woke in a hospital bed, my head throbbing, a void where seven years of my life should be. Doctors explained it was retrograde amnesia, specifically targeting emotional connections. My best friend, Liam, looked devastated when I asked, "Cassie? Who's Cassie?" Apparently, she was everything to me for seven long years, a love so deep it was almost painful. Yet, when I finally encountered this forgotten love, Cassie Vanderbilt, she was shockingly cold. She showed no concern for my accident, only annoyance, casting me aside for her ex-fiancé, Damian Pierce. Her dismissive eyes and cutting words instantly confirmed her indifference, echoing the tales of unrequited devotion from a private blog I found. She publicly validated Damian over me, humiliated me at a party, and even threw coffee in my face. When a fire erupted, she inexplicably chose to save Damian, leaving me to the flames. And later, when Damian brazenly stole my revolutionary tech project, AuraConnect, she stood by him, publicly discrediting me. Each fresh injury, inflicted by a woman I no longer remembered, compounded my confusion and pain. How could I have so desperately loved someone utterly devoid of compassion, even for a victim of severe memory loss? The weight of her constant betrayals, for a past I couldn't access, was a sickening burden. This constant cycle of humiliation left me bewildered, questioning the very essence of my forgotten self. I knew then: this forgotten past was toxic, and I would consciously choose to leave it behind. I fled Boston for Austin, embracing a clean slate and finding genuine happiness with Maya. But just as I started to build a new life, the darkness of my past, in the form of Damian and Cassie's schemes, roared back. They came for me, forcing a final, brutal confrontation that tore open old wounds and revealed a truth far more agonizing than I could have imagined.
Lost Love, Bitter Victory

Lost Love, Bitter Victory

My wife, Olivia, and I had what I thought was the perfect life, a vibrant canvas of shared dreams and artistic ambition. But beneath the surface, a shadow lingered: her unexplained infertility, a result of an accident years ago-my fault-that filled me with a guilt I carried like a stone. I watched her endless cycles of hope, the IVF treatments we endured, believing we were fighting for our miracle baby together. Then, a single photograph arrived, shattering my world: Olivia, glowing with maternal pride, kneeling before a three-year-old boy who was undeniably hers. On the back, two words scrawled in messy handwriting: Our son. The fertility struggles, my guilt-it was all a monstrous, suffocating lie, a performance designed to keep me blind. I couldn' t breathe, trapped in her beautiful deception, so I planned my escape, a desperate attempt to vanish from a life that was never truly mine. After I "disappeared," a new life began, quiet and anonymous, painted in the solitude of the Oregon coast. But the past refused to stay buried, returning with the salt on the wind, a ghost with haunted eyes and the cruel truth of consequences. Now, she stands before me, broken and desperate, having lost everything-her child, her lover-in the wake of my strategic vanishing act. She believes my "death" was her fault, the ultimate price for her lies, unaware that the real architect of her downfall was closer than she ever imagined. I am not the man she married. I am a stranger forged in betrayal, ready to confront the wreckage she created.
A Nanny for the Billionaire

A Nanny for the Billionaire

The beautiful Ashley Olden takes up a job as a nanny for a billionaire she can't stand, Henry Allen. Things turn around when she uncovers the secret about his unfaithful wife. Soon feelings begin to spark when he divorces his wife and Ashley begins to find the job of caring for Asher twice as hard. Henry is used to getting anything he wants and Ashley is no exception. However their love will have to endure the test of their denial, Henry's ruthless family and the world. *** He looked away, a failed attempt to hide the wide smile on his face. He loved the fact that he could elicit such a reaction from her. His fingers drummed against the table beside him, causing the tray on it to slightly shake. “How did you sleep?” She dramatically cleared her throat. “Quite well, I guess. And you?” When she looked up at him, her eyes held questions that he had answers to, but of course, he was going to tease her a bit and make her squirm. He loved to see her turn red from embarrassment. “Your breakfast is getting cold. I did not think you were going to be asleep for so long…” Her eyes widened in what was unmistakably elation. “Thank you." She proceeded to get out of bed, the blankets fell to the ground, and then she looked down at herself. She was clad in sheer blood-red lacy lingerie. It was shaped like a corset and clung tightly to her, accentuating her figure. It was a flowery pattern barely covering her body. The low-cut breast cup of the lingerie did not help as it only pushed up her breasts, making them appear bigger than they were. She feared if she bent slightly they would spill out from the flimsy hold of the lingerie. Henry did not think she could turn any redder than that, but then there she was. Her eyes widened like saucers, her mouth hung open. From her expression, he could tell her thoughts were all over the place with speculations of what had happened last night. He loved the fact that the look on her face was not one of disgust or regret. She was shy to look him in the eye. She opened her mouth to speak but decided against it. “You might be wondering what happened last night?” he asked, amusement clear in his tone. He got to his feet and covered the distance between them. The bed dipped at the point where he got on it. Ashley couldn’t look him in the eye. She was shy, to say the least. Of course, she had thought about it with Henry. Heck, she had even looked forward to it. Now, faced with the reality that it might have happened, she couldn’t look him in the eye. Could it, though? She asked herself. He had said before that if it ever happened… “I told you before that when it happens…” he slowly caressed her face with the back of his fingers. “…no amount of alcohol would make you forget it…” She let out an involuntary gasp when he leaned towards her, his tongue darted out and tickled her earlobe...