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Romance Books for Women

Bestsellers Ongoing Completed
Revenge Wears a White Dress

Revenge Wears a White Dress

On the eve of my dream wedding, everything seemed perfect with my charming fiancé, Ethan Blackwood. Our partnership was built on mutual respect and shared ambitions, or so I believed. Then, his mother raised a toast to Chloe Hayes, the "dead" childhood friend Ethan rarely spoke of, the girl who supposedly died saving him. The next day, as I walked down the aisle, all eyes were on me, but Ethan' s were fixed on the church doors. A stunning woman stood there, frail but firm, her voice echoing, "Ethan? I came back for you." My groom' s face went white. He whispered, "Chloe?" In front of the city's most influential people, Ethan stumbled towards her, pulling her into a desperate hug, completely forgetting I existed. My white silk dress turned into a humiliating shroud as cameras flashed, capturing my public discarding. He finally looked at me, with no love, no apology, just annoyance. "Olivia," he stammered, "I… I' m sorry. I don' t know what' s happening." His attention quickly returned to Chloe, whom he shielded, calling her "fragile" and leaving me abandoned at the altar. The headlines screamed: "Billionaire Groom Abandons Bride at Altar for Ghost of Dead Girlfriend!" My parents, concerned only about stock prices and reputation, told me to "handle this" and "not look weak." I watched as articles about Chloe' s death vanished from the internet, Ethan already controlling the narrative to protect her. Alone in my hotel suite, I wondered, who was I without him? I was just the woman publicly discarded. That night, my phone rang. It was him. "Liv, are you okay?" he asked, but then Chloe' s voice cut in, dripping false innocence, "Oh, Ethan, tell her I' m so, so sorry." My rage finally boiled over. "Get her off the phone, Ethan!" He defended her, spoke of his guilt, then offered to "compensate" me. I laughed, a bitter sound. "You think this is about money?" I was a placeholder. The moment his ghost became flesh, I was disposable. He pressured me, "Liv, please, just try to be reasonable." I gave him an ultimatum: "You tell her to leave. You come back here and explain yourself to me, alone." Chloe wailed in the background, "Oh, Ethan, she hates me!" His voice hardened, blaming me, "Do you hear that, Olivia? Is that what you want? To be this cruel?" I hung up, the phone clattering to the floor. He was still in love with her. I was the third person in a two-person story. With cold resolve, I pulled off my engagement ring and threw it out the window. Then, I called my agent. "Book my flight. I want to leave tomorrow."
No Turning Back Now, Liam

No Turning Back Now, Liam

The sheets were still warm, Liam' s scent clinging to the pillows, a familiar comfort in his minimalist apartment. This was our routine for years-best friends who' d blurred the lines into something I thought was real, a future we were building. Then he walked out of the bathroom, casually announcing Olivia, his high school "what if," was back in town; my architectural advice, my city knowledge, repurposed for her date. The name hit me, cold and hard, a revelation that crumbled my world: I was just a convenience, an "easy" placeholder until his long-lost love returned. He left for Olivia' s date, leaving me shattered and exposed in his bed, the realization hitting me like a physical blow-I was simply a tool in a game I didn't even know I was playing. The ultimate betrayal came when he and Olivia, after a car accident where he only cared for her scraped wrist, accused me of being dramatic, and Olivia herself, a toxic sweet poison, physically attacked me, turning Liam' s hatred directly on me. "You psycho! You attacked her!" he roared, utterly convinced by her performance, telling me I was "dead to him." My world, my love, my trust-all annihilated in one devastating night, with the final blow being his utterly blind, unwavering belief in her lies. I watched my life with him, 20 years of friendship and love, reduced to ashes by his callous disregard and an impossible betrayal that left me no choice. There was only one way out, one way to reclaim myself from the ruins he had created. I booked a one-way ticket to Vienna, leaving everything behind, finally ready to build a life on my own terms, block by block, note by note, without him.
The Domineering Tyrant And His Beautiful Maiden

The Domineering Tyrant And His Beautiful Maiden

"Harmony..." he fondly addressed "You disobeyed your master. Don't you think you deserve a punishment?" He asked, his breath gently fanned her lips Holding onto her waist, he turned her such that she was completely facing him. He moved closer to her lips in an attempt to kiss her but then moved an inch backward He repeated this action twice and could clearly see her misty eyes. Harmony knew he was in a way punishing her and surprisingly, she yearned for his kiss Seeing his lips moving closer to hers, she instinctively moved forward but instead of kissing her on the lips, he kissed her jaw His lips rubbing along he skin. And then his lips met hers, he licked her lips...savouring her patiently. With soft and gentle movement, he slid his tongue into her sweet mouth .... Harmony is a girl with a forgotten past. Unknowingly, she was a catalyst. Someone meant to cause nothing but destruction. She was driven by her mother and was found by a maid who worked in a mansion where girls were being recruited to other places Lord Darian was a Domineering Lord and a fearsome tyrant. His presence alone was an enigma, he scared people without even trying to lift a finger. His cruelty held no bounds. The most powerful Lord in whole of Zludac. He saw her in his dream She was his salvation...or so he thought He thought he was someone who didn't need to be saved until he saw her Two lost souls crossed, their fates locked Will she still be his beautiful maiden knowing she was not only his redemption but also his end?
The Truth Unveiled: A Vengeful Bride

The Truth Unveiled: A Vengeful Bride

"I don' t want to marry him, Mom." The words were a whisper, a desperate plea from the master suite that was supposed to be my bridal sanctuary. My wedding was tomorrow, everything paid for, hundreds of people coming. Yet my mother, steady as ever, offered a way out: a ticket to Florence. Just hours before my dream wedding, I stumbled upon a nightmare. From my balcony, soft lights illuminated the shocking truth: my fiancé, Liam, the celebrated tech genius, was locked in a deep, familiar kiss with my stepsister, Chloe. It wasn' t just a stolen moment; it was a betrayal that shattered eight years of my life. I confronted my father, seeking solace, but he sided with Jessica, Chloe' s manipulative mother, who mocked my pain. He dismissed my feelings, accused me of hysteria, and finally, tragically, raised his hand to me in defense of his new family. The sting on my cheek burned, but it was nothing compared to the agony of knowing my own father chose them over me. Later, I discovered the true depths of Liam' s deceit. Security footage revealed him admitting I was merely a "ticket in," a stepping stone for his career, while his heart had always belonged to Chloe. He wore her picture in a locket, planning our future while loving her. The man I knew was a carefully constructed lie. The grief hardened into a cold, fierce resolve. I wouldn' t just disappear. My wedding day would still happen, but it wouldn' t be a celebration of love. It would be my stage for justice, a meticulously planned takedown. I was no longer the victim; I was the architect of their destruction, ready to pull the cornerstone from the empire Liam had built on my lies.
The Husband She Left For A Call

The Husband She Left For A Call

For five years, I, Ethan Miller, was the steady anchor in Sarah's life, a well of quiet devotion for a love she never truly reciprocated. Our marriage was a beautiful, empty shell, and I, her husband, felt increasingly like a ghost she barely saw. Then Mark Vance, her college flame and unaddressed obsession, reappeared. The facade swiftly crumbled. My gut clenched discovering her hidden shrine of his photos, and watching her eyes sparkle for him, while for me, they were always flat. The final, devastating blow came with finding a positive pregnancy test – and Mark's intimate email to her, discussing "our baby" and a shared future. My wife was pregnant with his child, right there in our home, and he was claiming paternity. The humiliations piled on: she introduced me to Mark as someone who "helps with things," ditched my award ceremony for his event, and callously abandoned me in a hospital bed for his phone call. My life, my very existence, was systematically erased from her world, replaced by him. How could she be so oblivious, so savagely dismissive of the man who had poured his soul into making her happy? The silent anger gnawed at me, a cold, hard certainty solidifying deep within. This was no longer just grief; it was a profound disgust for the sheer scale of her betrayal. So, while she was busy celebrating her engagement to Mark—on our fifth wedding anniversary, no less—I sent her a video. In it, I calmly laid out every lie, every deception, every cruel slight. Attached was the signed, finalized divorce decree. Our cooling-off period was over. Our marriage was a relic. I was done. And I was leaving.