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Romance Books for Women

Bestsellers Ongoing Completed
My Fake Husband Is A Ruthless CEO

My Fake Husband Is A Ruthless CEO

I was engaged to Jairo, completely devoted to building our future, until I caught him in our living room, tangled up with my best friend. It wasn't just a simple affair. I discovered they had drugged me the night before, planning to pimp me out to a wealthy investor to save Jairo's failing startup. By a stroke of luck, I had stumbled into the wrong hotel room and spent the night with a stranger in the dark. When I confronted Jairo and called off the wedding, his retaliation was swift and merciless. He froze my bank accounts, canceled my apartment lease, and literally threw my three young children and our belongings onto the curb next to a dumpster. "You'll come crawling back! You and your sick mother will be living on the street!" With my mother's life-saving medical treatment about to be cut off for unpaid bills, I was pushed to the absolute brink of despair. I couldn't understand how someone I loved could be so monstrous, leaving my innocent children to rot like garbage. Just as I hit rock bottom, the stranger from the hotel room found us. He drove a beat-up car, claimed to be a broke assistant, and offered me a marriage of convenience and $75,000 to get his strict family off his back. For my children's survival, I signed the papers. But that night, staying in his "boss's" luxury penthouse, I woke up to hear my new husband on the phone, ruthlessly ordering the total financial destruction of Jairo's company. Just who exactly did I marry?
Marry Me Again: The New CEO Is My Ex-husband

Marry Me Again: The New CEO Is My Ex-husband

"What's your name?" He asked, making the managers go shut at once. They followed his gaze and it landed on Mallory. Mallory felt her soul being pierced. Did he just ask for her name? Her Wilder didn't even know her name? "Uh... her name is..." "Let her speak for herself, Arlo" Wilder raised his hand at his cousin who zipped up at once. Then, reluctantly, Mallory muttered: "I'm Mallory Harrington." Wilder said nothing, his gaze on her unreadable. Then, she asked. "Don't you... remember me?" "Am I... supposed to know you?" Wilder asked with an unfeigned doubt. This broke Mallory even more. How can her Wilder not recognize her? Her next breath came raggedly, she had to drop her teary gaze to the floor. "How can you not remember me?" She winced. "We were..." ********* What happens when Mallory goes to work one morning and discovers the new CEO who was the soon-to-be heir to one of the richest companies in the world was her ex-husband who had been missing for seven years? How does she tell him she used to be married to him before he went missing? How does she tell him she was still very much in love with him and wanted him back in her life, even if there was someone else? How does she tell him she had twins at home that looked like him? How does she tell him any of this when he couldn't recognize her and acted very cold towards her? What happened to her Wilder?
Too Late, Mr. Betrayer

Too Late, Mr. Betrayer

My bones ached, a deep throb whispering something was terribly wrong. I'd sacrificed, donating marrow to save my fiancé Ethan' s "failing" company and his "dying" college acquaintance, Brooke Hayes. I believed it was for love, for our shared future. Then, a chilling truth surfaced. A text on Ethan' s phone: "$50k transfer… Main portfolio remains shielded." There was no crisis. Brooke, far from dying, walked out of my bedroom, vibrant, triumphant. It was a meticulously planned scam. My heart froze. Ethan gaslighted, his hand too comfortable on Brooke' s waist, denying my pain for her comfort. He prioritized a stray dog over my severe post-donation agony, dismissing my pleas for vital medication while showering Brooke with lavish gifts. Chloe, my best friend, became her accomplice, rationalizing their cruelty. The breaking point arrived when I overheard Ethan confess: he' d orchestrated the entire ordeal, the fake crisis, Brooke' s "illness," all to "make amends" to Brooke. My unconditional love had been weaponized. At a glittering gala, Brooke, her fraud exposed by my desperate words, staged a dramatic fall, pointing accusingly at me. Ethan, without question, condemned me, and Chloe, my dear friend, slapped me hard across the face. Publicly shamed, physically and emotionally shattered, my phone buzzed with Mom's text: "Car waiting. South entrance." My escape. I grabbed my small bag, destroyed my phone' s SIM, and walked out of the hotel, out of their lives, without a backward glance. My only path was to disappear, leaving behind the wreckage they'd created.