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Romance Books for Women

Bestsellers Ongoing Completed
CEO's Allergy

CEO's Allergy

In my world, Perfection is a luxury I can't afford. Scholarships? Like limited-edition designer bags-I admire from afar, knowing they'll never be mine. Awards? Please. Those are for the lucky. And luck? I used up all of mine just getting into a third-tier college. That was until the unthinkable happened at the Wellington Corporation Group Scholarship Awards ceremony. A moment I wasn't even supposed to be in the room for. I, Phoebe Harper-the girl who barely scrapes tuition and only shows up on the dean's radar when fees are overdue-was called up on stage. Me. Of all people. For a scholarship sponsored by the most prestigious corporation in the city. Students when you hear your names, [Wellington Corporation Group Scholarship Award Ceremony] Please come on stage to receive the award - Our Dean, Mr Lawrence said Environmental Design, Bethany Williams Product Design, Adams Hart [Wellington Corporation Group Scholarship Award Ceremony] Fashion Design, Mandy Swiss. These are the recipients of...... Wellington Corporation Group Scholarship in the year 2017. Please give them a round of applause. Sir, there is still one more person - One of the Cordinators on stage said I'm sorry. I missed out one person. Fine arts and Drawing, Phoebe Harper Is Phoebe Harper here? Phoebe Harper? [Richard Wellington] She isn't Phoebe Harper, of course If Phoebe Harper is half as feminine as Kira, She wouldn't have been single until now Did he say Phoebe Harper? Did I hear it right? She's receiving a Scholarship? - Kira said You heard it right. This is a stage name. There is only one person with this name in the Arts Department. It isn't a rare character. - Chloe said It's impossible to say it wrong for twice. This person who looks like she's good at studying... Isn't Phoebe Harper - Kira said She isn't a student in this University. She only came over to eat in the canteen here. Why is she late today? - Chloe said Phoebe Harper, pls come on stage to receive the award "Phoebe, here. Come here" Kira waved at me immediately I entered into the Hall, not realizing the situation on ground, I rushed to my friends and sat with them Why are you sitting here? Go and take your award. What award? Me? - I surprisingly asked This is frustrating. You received a Scholarship... sponsored by Wellington Corporation Group **That was how it happened on our Award Ceremony....** --- My name is Phoebe Harper-Pheebs to my friends. I'm independent, fiery, and fiercely committed to everything I've built from the ground up. But nothing prepared me for the man whose heart was locked behind a phobia... or for the fight it would take to reach him. Richard isn't just a billionaire with a sharp tongue and an ice-cold stare. He's a man hiding behind a wall of latex and antiseptic, battling a severe misophobia-an allergy to human touch. That's what no one knows Rich, ruthless, always in gloves, and definitely out of my league. I didn't plan to fall into his world. I didn't plan for him to fall into mine. But fate, it seems, is the biggest wildcard of all. Here is our story....
Trapped By The Ruthless Billionaire Lawyer

Trapped By The Ruthless Billionaire Lawyer

My brother Leo was thrown into a jail cell for defending his fiancée from a brutal assault by a billionaire heir. To save him, I gathered all the evidence and went to the police, but the heir's cousin, Damien Kensington—the most ruthless and powerful attorney in Manhattan—crushed my case in exactly five minutes. Damien didn't just stop at burying the truth. He bought off our only eyewitness with a hundred-thousand-dollar Rolex. He secretly blacklisted every law firm in New York from ever taking my brother's case. Worse, he systematically cut off all my options until I was forced to sign an ironclad NDA and work as a tutor in his own penthouse just to pay off Leo's legal debts. When I nearly died in a rainy alley trying to find the corrupted security footage, Damien dragged me back to his mansion, violently kissed me until I bled, and locked me in his bedroom. I woke up the next morning wearing nothing but his oversized dress shirt. I couldn't understand why a man of his immense wealth and power was going to such psychotic lengths to trap a broke, desperate girl like me. If he merely wanted to win an assault case for his cousin, why was he isolating me from the world, marking me as his own, and paying me a thousand dollars an hour just to keep me trapped under his roof? Looking at the fresh bandage he had wrapped around my ankle, I wiped my tears and made a decision. I would take his dirty money and use it to tear his empire down from the inside.
A Wife's Reckoning

A Wife's Reckoning

Eight years of marriage, white tablecloths, and soft candlelit dinners. My husband, Liam, the man who once promised forever, took my hand across an expensive restaurant table. But the perfection shattered when he pulled his hand back, revealing his family' s relentless demand for an heir. Then Chloe, a "good, healthy girl" from the countryside, appeared in our living room, brought by his iron-willed grandmother. Soon, I overheard the whispers: Chloe was pregnant. Liam' s baby. When I confronted him with divorce papers, he begged, "I thought it was you." I believed his pleas for one more chance, for him to "handle" Chloe. But the real test came in a dusty warehouse: his business rivals, a choice to be made. "You can only have one," a cold voice stated. "Your wife, Ava, or your other woman, Chloe, carrying your heir." I held my breath, knowing he should choose me. "Let Chloe go. Protect the child. I need the child," Liam' s voice echoed, cold and distant. Then came a frantic whisper, "Ava, I promise. I' ll come back for you." The last thing I saw before the metal pipe struck was his empty promise, his true betrayal. I woke in a hospital, three days later, battered and abandoned. He didn' t come. He never called. He arrived later, no remorse, only self-pity, declaring, "I had to protect the heir. It was the only choice." His grandmother dismissed me as a barren failure, while Chloe, playing the innocent martyr, cried, "I told Liam to choose you… but he insisted on saving the baby… our baby." Watching him fuss over her, over their baby, something clicked. I was pregnant. Seven weeks. And he had just sacrificed our child, draining me for her, for a lie. My father's factory burned, his heart giving out from the shock, and Chloe, playing the sympathetic helper, framed me for arson. Then Liam had me committed to a psychiatric facility, where I barely survived a head injury. I finally understood: this wasn't about love, or even an heir. It was a calculated, ruthless game of power and betrayal. A cold, clear rage settled in. I would not just leave. I would make them pay. I would burn his kingdom to the ground.
Too Late For Regret, Mr. Billionaire.

Too Late For Regret, Mr. Billionaire.

For three years, Chloe was Cole's perfect executive assistant by day and his secret lover by night. On her birthday, she prepared a candlelit dinner, ready to propose and share the secret of her pregnancy. But a single phone call from his ex-girlfriend, Carroll, ruined everything. Cole rushed out to comfort his ex, leaving Chloe behind. That same night, Chloe got into a horrific car crash. As she lay bleeding on the side of the road, losing their child, Cole ignored all her desperate calls. When she woke up in the hospital, her baby was gone. Dragging her broken body to find him, she saw Cole tenderly feeding Carroll—a woman who shared her exact face. She was never loved, just a cheap substitute. When Chloe tried to quit and leave, Cole threatened her family's company to keep her trapped. Carroll even poured scalding coffee on herself just to frame Chloe. Without even looking at the fresh burn on Chloe's hand, Cole held the weeping Carroll and turned to Chloe with a monstrous demand. "Her blood type is rare. You are going to donate blood to her." He wanted Chloe, who had just suffered a traumatic miscarriage, to act as a blood bag for the woman who orchestrated her pain. Did her life and her dead child mean absolutely nothing to him? The last trace of her love turned to ash, replaced by a blazing, primal hatred. "You will not do this to me!" She wrenched her arm from his grip, refusing to be his caged canary anymore. It was time to tear his world apart.
Reborn to Rewrite: The Paramedic's Vengeance

Reborn to Rewrite: The Paramedic's Vengeance

The pain was a memory, sharp and final, then nothing. Now, air filled my lungs in a gasping shock, and I was back in my old, small bedroom. Sunlight, the same damn sunlight from that cursed morning, streamed through the window, my paramedic uniform folded on the chair. I was plunged back into the day Victoria Belmont, the woman I married, first entered my life. In my previous existence, she and her lover, Dylan Vance, had revealed it was all a lie: she claimed she was never sick, that my family's "Healing Aura" was a sham, and that my mother and I conspired to fake her illness to trap her in marriage. They tortured me until I was nothing, then left me to die in a desolate wasteland. The aftermath ripped through my innocent family: my dad' s hardware store bankrupted, my kind mother, Maria, driven to madness. I learned too late that Sarah Miller, a quiet librarian, was my true savior, not the manipulative Belmonts. The raw agony of betrayal, the humiliation, the sheer injustice of my family's ruin-it was a horror that had followed me even into death. How could I have been so utterly blind to the monsters masked by wealth and charm? But now, I was whole. I was back. And when the familiar knock echoed from downstairs-"Ethan, dear, Mrs. Belmont is here to see you"-I steeled myself. Her voice, not yet broken by grief, sounded like a death knell for their future. This time, I' d write a different ending.
Contract, Baby, And Billionaire

Contract, Baby, And Billionaire

The cold screen of my phone cast a harsh glow on Olivia' s smug, made-up face-my art school rival-her latest post a candid, unflattering photo of me. Then, I saw the caption: "Some people will do anything for money. Here's Scarlet, a little fuller these days. Wonder if she finally landed a big fish. Or maybe it' s just a little goldfish she' s carrying?" The comments exploded, branding me a gold-digger, a woman using a baby to trap a man. Nausea churned in my stomach, not just morning sickness, but pure panic. Just as the world narrowed to the poison spreading online, a new notification flashed: a press release from the Sterling Corporation. My heart pounded as I clicked, expecting another blow. Instead, it was an announcement from the notoriously reclusive tech mogul, Liam Sterling: he confirmed he was the father of my unborn child and vowed legal action against any defamation. The world tilted. Liam Sterling? The legendary, untouchable genius from college? It was impossible. I had never even spoken to him. How could he be the father of a child conceived in a transaction with a nameless stranger in a dimly lit hotel room-a desperate mistake made to save my dying grandmother? It made no sense. The public shaming felt insignificant now, overshadowed by a terrifying reality: my quiet, desperate life had just collided with a world of unimaginable power. I was trapped, a pawn in a game I didn' t understand. I had signed a contract for survival, and now I was paying the ultimate price.