Romance Books for Women
Bestsellers Ongoing Completed
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His Wedding, My Goodbye: I Was Dying, and He Never Knew
On the fifth anniversary of their marriage, Evelyn did not receive a gift; instead, she received a wedding invitation featuring her husband and another woman. The bride was none other than the woman Evelyn had diligently cared for over the past five years, the woman who had been his unattainable ideal love, now awakened from her vegetative state. "If possible, I hope you can give the ceremonial address in our wedding," Adrian said, his eyes filled with unwavering anticipation, certain that she would agree as she always had. Evelyn tightened her grip on her phone in a wave of emotion, and after a moment of calm, nodded in agreement. Unbeknownst to Adrian, Evelyn's quick acquiescence came from having been diagnosed with terminal brain cancer. Today would become the day he would come to regret most in his life./1/111182/coverorgin.jpg?v=73d89e221a21d4259940fe3d30b29dcc&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Her Vicious Art, His Dark Obsession
For ten years, my family kept me locked away, forcing me to play the part of a broken, mentally unstable girl. They controlled me with sedatives and treated me like a ghost in my own home, a prisoner in a gilded cage. But I had a secret. I was a world-famous anonymous artist with a hidden fortune, and I had an escape plan. On the day of my cousin's wedding, my rebellion was accidentally witnessed by a dangerous stranger who saw the predator beneath my fragile mask. To silence him, I dragged him into a dark closet. The encounter turned raw and reckless, a violent collision I used as the perfect cover for my escape. I vanished with a new name and a one-way ticket to a new life, leaving him with nothing but a bloodstain and the bitter taste of betrayal. I thought I was free, that I had successfully buried the girl I was forced to be and the man I was forced to use. Three months later, on a superyacht in Monaco, he found me. He wasn't just some wealthy guest; he was the ruthless head of a powerful crime syndicate, and I was trapped in his private penthouse. He locked the door, his eyes black with possessive rage. "The game is over," he whispered. "This time, you're not running."/1/113569/coverorgin.jpg?v=c561c0e1e2fbfe3faa5efcc7ab6477b5&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Betrayed Heiress And Her Genius Comeback
I skipped my final lab review in Geneva and endured a fourteen-hour flight to surprise my husband for our fourth wedding anniversary. Instead, looking through the window of our beachfront estate, I saw him playing the perfect, loving father to a "tragic widow's" daughter, kissing the widow with practiced, casual intimacy. Fleeing in pure panic, I got into a horrific car crash. Waking up in the VIP hospital room, I kept my eyes shut and heard my husband talking to his best friend right beside my bed. "She's just a party girl who knows how to swipe a black card. I only play the part because I need her father's proxy vote for the IPO." "Every time I have to touch her in bed, it feels like a corporate obligation. It makes me sick." Later, even my own father demanded I step down from my company role and publicly welcome the mistress, just to protect the family's investment in the upcoming ten-billion-dollar IPO. Four years of marriage and quiet humiliations, all reduced to a calculated lie. They all thought I was just a brainless, hysterical socialite who could be easily manipulated and discarded. They didn't know that the core anti-aging algorithm his entire empire relied on was secretly built by me. I calmly pulled out my phone and texted my divorce lawyer. "I want him bankrupt. On the day his company rings the bell, I am going to burn his entire life to the ground."/1/116329/coverorgin.jpg?v=f5f05e7b8073513ef2be875952d00734&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Don't Beg Me Now, Your Arrogance Ruined Everything
My grandfather was dying in the ICU, his heart monitor flatlining. I called my billionaire husband, Cole, ten times. When he finally showed up, he reeked of his mistress's signature floral perfume. His mistress, a famous ballerina, even showed up at the hospital to flaunt their affair. Her malicious provocation caused my grandfather to go into shock and slip into a deep coma. When I lunged at her in anger, Cole violently shoved me to the hard floor to protect her. He thought my soul-crushing grief was just a jealous tantrum. I realized then that my decade of love meant absolutely nothing to him. To Cole, I was just a parasite attached to his empire, a transaction he could buy and dismiss. So, I stopped crying. I opened my laptop and calculated every single cent he had ever spent on me, adding aggressive compound interest. I handed him the 'Marital Debt Liquidation' spreadsheet along with the signed divorce papers. But he regretted and didn't want to let me leave. "Since you treat everything like a balance sheet," I told him calmly, "I am simply clearing my accounts."/0/51098/coverorgin.jpg?v=914e37510f4a6184539a50a4a3df06a1&imageMogr2/format/webp)
From Wife To Fashion Tycoon
After a night of passion, Callan dropped a bombshell. "She's returned. I think we should divorce." Lacey felt devastated, realizing that her three years of devotion had been nothing but futile self-deception. She had believed Callan craved her body, so she strived to meet his every desire in an attempt to overshadow the person he truly yearned for. Despite her efforts, their relationship ended in divorce. Concealing her turmoil, Lacey left decisively. However, Callan halted her and asked with red-rimmed eyes, "Who is this man you call out for in your dreams every night?"/1/111185/coverorgin.jpg?v=531f58adba650b74426dde4a07c3d5e4&imageMogr2/format/webp)
From Abandoned Puppet to the Tycoon's Contract Wife
For five years, I was the secret weapon behind A-list actor Johan Lee. As his top agent and devoted girlfriend, I cleaned up his scandals, secured his contracts, and deliberately dressed down so I would never outshine him. Tonight was his birthday, and I was waiting in his penthouse in black lace, ready to surprise him. The only surprise was the one I got when he walked in with a 22-year-old actress. From inside his walk-in closet, my romantic evening turned into a nightmare as I listened to them fall into his bed. But the cheating wasn't the worst part. It was hearing his cruel, dismissive laugh as he explained why he kept me around. "She's safe," he told the other woman. "She dresses like a depressed librarian. I don't need a queen trying to steal my spotlight. I need an assistant." An assistant. Five years of my life, my love, and my career-building genius, all reduced to a convenience. The grief in my chest instantly hardened into ice. The mousy girlfriend he took for granted was gone forever. I walked out of that closet, ended his career with a single video, and thought I was finally free. But then my aunt called, screaming. My family's company was mysteriously facing bankruptcy, and their only way out was to enforce an old family contract. I was to be sold in marriage to the ruthless billionaire who engineered their downfall: the infamous Colvin Sykes./0/79719/coverorgin.jpg?v=515257f8baafe69c95ecc9afcc933fdc&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Stepsister's Scorn, Lover's Lie
At the elite Auer Conservatory gala, I, Ava Davies, a scholarship violinist, finally felt I belonged, especially with my powerful trustee boyfriend, Ethan Montgomery, effortlessly by my side. But then, the grand screen, meant for donor names, flickered to life, displaying a deeply intimate video of me—a bedroom scene—for all of New York's elite to see, hijacking my deepest humiliation for public consumption. As gasps turned to cruel whispers and mocking laughter, and my world crumbled, Ethan, my supposed anchor, vanished, only for me to find him moments later, gloating with my stepsister, Seraphina, admitting our entire relationship was an "amusing diversion" to orchestrate my ruin. Betrayed by the man I loved, herded like an animal, I was then dragged into a dark alley by his friends, enduring unimaginable torture: chili oil burned my throat, flashes captured my terror, and a searing hot iron branded my shoulder, all for the public's entertainment, sanctioned by Ethan who later, chillingly, instructed kidnappers to "dispose of me." Why had he, the man who once championed me, orchestrated such monstrous cruelty, leaving me broken and branded, desiring my very eradication—what dark secret propelled this twisted vengeance, and could I ever escape his terrifying obsession? This raw, agonizing betrayal transformed me: I would not just survive, I would disappear from his world, on my own terms, turning my back on the ruin he created to forge a future where I, Ava, would finally be free./1/114549/coverorgin.jpg?v=95a3d1481e2ea1dbb5778e811e7e8bda&imageMogr2/format/webp)
A Contract Marriage With My Nemesis
My fiancé always told me he loved me. But not long after our engagement, I woke up suffocating in the dark. He was pressing a pillow over my face, his eyes cold and dead, while my half-sister stood by watching with fake pity. They had orchestrated everything just to steal my trust fund. It all started with a massive hotel scandal. They had drugged me, thrown a cheap escort into my bed, and brought a mob of paparazzi to ruin my reputation. When my fiancé broke through the crowd, playing the heartbroken victim, he knelt down with a massive diamond ring. "I know things have been hard, but I love you. If you come home with me, I will forgive all of this." In my past life, I cried tears of gratitude and let him slide that ring onto my finger. That ring sealed my death warrant. I lost my company, my dignity, and eventually, my life. Until my lungs burned and my heart stopped, I didn't understand. How could the people I trusted most plot my murder so ruthlessly? Why did they have to tear my entire life apart? Opening my eyes again, I was back on the morning of the hotel scandal, exactly one year ago. But the man lying bare-backed in my bed wasn't a random escort. It was Johnathan Chase, my family's biggest corporate rival and the most ruthless predator on Wall Street. Listening to the paparazzi pounding on the door, I smiled coldly./0/97676/coverorgin.jpg?v=2d489e64594393602a36d7362c95401c&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Three-Year Lie: Her Sweet Revenge
The day I found out I was pregnant was the same day I learned my three-year relationship was a meticulously crafted lie. I rushed to surprise my perfect fiancé, Anthony Holden, only to overhear him talking to his twin brother. "I've endured three years of this farce," he said, his voice cold. "Not once did I touch the woman." My entire life was a revenge plot for his childhood friend, a woman who bullied me relentlessly in college. They left me to grieve my grandmother's death alone, subjected me to tortures designed from my deepest fears, and left me for dead-twice. The man who swore to protect me became my villain, convinced I deserved every moment of pain. On our wedding day, he stood at the altar, ready to deliver his final, humiliating blow. He had no idea I was miles away, about to live-stream his confession to the entire world. My revenge was just beginning./0/87354/coverorgin.jpg?v=9016eafd94d11470f29324914456f136&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Discarded Love, Found Happiness
I stood just outside the glass patio doors, holding a tray of fresh towels. Tonight was a celebration of Coleton Barron' s full recovery, the tech world' s golden boy back on his feet after three years of my dedicated physical therapy. But then, his ex-girlfriend, Charly Mack, appeared. When a stray splash from the pool hit her dress, Coleton shoved me aside to protect her, sending me headfirst into the concrete edge of the pool. I woke up in the hospital with a concussion, only to see Coleton comforting Charly, who was faking tears. He didn' t defend me when she claimed we were "just friends." His mother, Esther Cotton, then sent me a text with a five-million-dollar check, telling me I didn' t fit into his world. Back at his penthouse, Charly accused me of poisoning Coleton with soup and breaking his father' s cherished wooden box. He believed her, forcing me to drink the soup and leaving me to collapse on the kitchen floor. I ended up in the hospital again, alone. I didn' t understand why he would believe her lies, why he would hurt me after everything I had done. Why was I just a temporary fix, easily discarded? On his birthday, I left him a text: "Happy Birthday, Coleton. I' m leaving. Don' t look for me. Goodbye." I turned off my phone, dropped it in a trash can, and walked toward a new life./0/90174/coverorgin.jpg?v=6d2f41257e2ef7fae91eeff14fb02d4f&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Wife He Never Saw
For five years, I was my husband's most prized possession. Not because he loved me, but because I carried the heart of his dead first love, Fallon. On our fifth anniversary, a ghost walked through our front door. Fallon was alive. She laughed and told my husband her "death" was a five-year test of his love. "And the heart inside you?" she sneered, looking at my chest. "Oh, darling. That's not my heart. It must have belonged to some other poor soul." The foundation of my life, the entire reason for my gilded cage, was a lie./1/110721/coverorgin.jpg?v=d0e3c483fdb09b90aa0e58a32707c9dc&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Forsaken Bride
An accidental night of passion between Elena Vance and Cillian Thorne, the undisputed king of power in the capital, resulted in an unexpected pregnancy. However, Elena's envious sister, consumed by greed, stole her identity and successfully positioned herself as Cillian's true love. Elena was cast aside and branded a manipulative social climber who used a pregnancy to trap a man who loathed her. On their wedding night, while Elena was heavily pregnant, Cillian heartlessly sent her to the operating table. Despite her desperate pleas for the sake of their unborn child, Cillian remained cold: "You aren't worthy of carrying my legacy." He tormented her relentlessly until Elena "died" right before his eyes in a tragic accident. Four years later... Elena returns to the city, radiant, successful, and accompanied by a brilliant young child. Only then does Cillian realize he had been blinded by lies Elena was the woman he had been searching for all along. The once ruthless and tyrannical Cillian Thorne now kneels in the rain, clutching a diamond ring. "Elena, I was wrong. Let me take you and our child home." She only offers a frigid smile and looks down at her son. "Look closely, darling. Remember this face. This is the monster who wanted to kill you before you were even born."/0/90457/coverorgin.jpg?v=f2dffb37e7bed6bf7d8921d2de8d4d89&imageMogr2/format/webp)
He Thought I'd Stay: His Mistake
Today was my four-year anniversary with Chace. He told me to wear my white dress for a surprise he had planned. I spent all afternoon getting ready, practicing my "Yes," certain he was finally going to propose. But when I arrived at the hotel ballroom, the banner read, "Congratulations, Chace & Karyn." In front of all their friends and family, he got down on one knee and proposed to his childhood friend, Karyn Warren. He used his mother's heirloom ring—the one he once showed me, saying it was for the woman he would spend his life with. He then introduced me, his girlfriend of four years, as "a very good friend." His new fiancée smiled sweetly and told me their marriage would be an open one, giving me permission to stay on as his mistress. I overheard him telling his friend his real plan: "Karyn is my wife for show, but Ember can be my woman on the side for fun." He thought I would just accept being his toy. He was wrong. I pulled out my phone and texted a number I'd never dared to call before—the executor of my estranged father's will. "I need to claim my inheritance." His reply was instant. "Of course, Ms. Ford. The stipulation is a marriage to me. Are you ready to proceed?" "Yes," I typed back. My life with Chace was over./0/84534/coverorgin.jpg?v=c205a69346ab9598a080dd9197980cef&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Aethelgard's Divorce
The divorce papers felt heavy in my hands, a final weight after three years. I had sacrificed everything to be the perfect wife to Liam Hayes, a genius in game design but a recluse crippled by anxiety. I was his shield, his planner, his entire support system, ensuring every detail of his life was seamless so he could create. But at the launch party for his groundbreaking new game, "Aethelgard's Echo," he took the stage and thanked his "muse," Olivia, the graphic designer. He beamed at her, she blew him a kiss, and I, his wife, stood frozen in the wings, my name never mentioned. Three years of sleepless nights, managing his panic attacks, and organizing his entire life were erased in that single spotlight. He didn't just forget me; he publicly replaced me, reducing me to nothing more than hired help. My face burned with a fresh wave of humiliation as whispers and pitying glances followed me. I walked out, and no one, especially not Liam, even noticed I was gone. I had become Eleanor Hayes, the wife of a genius, but I had lost Eleanor Vance, the architect, the person I was supposed to be. My decision was made: I needed to be free. Yet, when I presented Liam with the divorce papers, expecting relief, he refused to sign. He looked at me with raw, pure panic, not love or affection, but the desperate fear of losing his unpaid, live-in assistant, his "system." My anger snapped, but even as he violently punched a wall, breaking his hand, my conditioned reflex was to care for him. The final, brutal blow came later when I saw him treat Olivia's tiny paper cut with more care and tenderness than he had ever shown my own shattered heart. That was it. The last chord of hope, the final flicker of duty, snapped. No longer would I be his punching bag; no longer would I be invisible. I packed the single, worn suitcase I had arrived with three years ago. I was leaving, and this time, I wasn't coming back./1/113658/coverorgin.jpg?v=2c2d7fb6bd49d5db3f0b49fe6f1606f5&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Jilted Heiress And Her Possessive Guardian
Ardella caught her fiancé Braden cheating with an actress in a downtown VIP room. It was supposed to be a simple business marriage to save her family's bankrupt company. But instead of supporting her, her uncle and aunt demanded she get on her knees and apologize to the cheating fiancé. They didn't care about her dignity; they only cared about the merger capital. Her cousin publicly mocked her, and her uncle threatened to permanently hide the police file revealing who murdered her father if she ruined the deal. To make matters worse, Ethelbert Stone, the terrifying billionaire who raised her—and the man she was desperately trying to escape—publicly claimed he didn't know her. Yet, moments later, he trapped her in his car, his eyes filled with a sick, possessive rage, reminding her that every inch of her belonged to him. She was completely cornered by a cheating fiancé, a parasitic family, and an obsessed former guardian. They had drained her father's trust fund dry and now wanted to sell her off to cover their debts. They really thought she was just a helpless pawn they could manipulate and discard at will. But they were dead wrong. Ardella calmly wiped her hands after throwing scalding tea at her aunt's feet, staring down at her greedy family. "The headline tomorrow will read: Price Group Bankrupt, Fails to Sell Niece to Cover Debts." She backed up the video of her fiancé's betrayal to ten different servers and sent a text to her private investigator. Tonight, at the elite society dinner, she was going to blow the scandal wide open and drag them all down with her./0/61150/coverorgin.jpg?v=3473c94e2a9273aac3e6026f2ea1b5c8&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Divorcing My Aloof Husband
I was once a well-known feminist activist, but later I became a gold digger and a submissive wife. To earn money for Frank's medical treatment, I married Zachary and became a stepmother to his autistic son, Erik. Former friends criticized me for degrading myself and cut off contact with me. My life became very narrow; I spent my days meticulously caring for Erik and my nights accompanying Zachary through the ups and downs. In the fifth year of our marriage, Erik's biological mother returned. She was a wealthy heiress, a PhD from a prestigious university, stunningly beautiful, and had built a feminist persona on social media, amassing millions of followers. In comparison, I felt dull and uninteresting, and people found me repulsive. So, I decided to file for divorce./0/49123/coverorgin.jpg?v=ccf470be1f49f2e908e4f663c5a52a45&imageMogr2/format/webp)
To Seduce A Cold, Heartless Huntress
She came in through the window like an angel of the night, so incredibly beautiful––her eyes bright with pure hatred, and her dagger pointing straight at him. Kracus asked, "Who are you? Who sent you!?" Ever so calmly, she responded, "I'm the last face you'll ever see. Tonight, I'll take your life in the most graphic way you could ever imagine." Then, she threw the dagger straight at him. ****************************** Tessera Rinderson is popularly known as 'The Torturer' in the underworld, due to her unmatched skill in inflicting unimaginable pain and torture to her quarries. Just her name alone strikes fear into the hearts of the most merciless crime lords, for all her targets end up dead-some in methods more gruesome, more graphic than one could fathom. She answers to no one, serves no master-a woman with a heart carved out of stone. Humor eludes her; she never learned how to smile. Some argue she possesses no soul; her brown eyes, cold and devoid of life. She marked a new prey, and his name is Kracusian Kingston. A multimillionaire who commands a chain of hotels, and for personal reasons, he has become a special target for her. She harbors an intense hatred towards him to the extent that her entire existence revolves around the day she can finally bring an end to his life. And that day finally came. However, when she goes after him, she is bound to discover that things aren't as they seem with the devilishly handsome multimillionaire. Not only does it seam like everything she'd thought she knew was wrong, but the man tempted her in ways she'd never been tempted before... . . Author's note; If you're looking for a book featuring a villainous kickass heroine-who doesn't know the word 'love' prior to meeting the hero, a quest for revenge packed with action scenes, a well-told love story and highly explicit, vividly described and well detailed steamy(xxx) scenes, then this book is for you. If not...well, feel free to check out the free chapters. Who knows? It might just draw you in-even if it's not your usual read, haha!/1/110028/coverorgin.jpg?v=55ec716e8b457dbbb87d453f39545a82&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Billionaire Ex Came Back for My Heart
"Touch me again, Daniel, and I'll break your jaw."Jane Riley spent eight years trying to forget the man who broke her heart. Daniel Logan was her first love, her only love-until he chose ambition over her and walked away without a single goodbye. She rebuilt herself from the pieces he left behind. A nonprofit for underprivileged children. A life of purpose. A heart locked tight where he could never reach it again. Then he walked back into her world. Older. Richer. More dangerous than she remembered. And offering to save the organization she poured her soul into-the one thing standing between her and complete ruin. Jane wants to hate him. She should hate him. But every time he steps closer, every time his voice drops low and his eyes darken with something she can't name, the walls she built start to crack. He says he's here to protect her. But secrets surround him. Her father's near-fatal accident. The threats appearing from nowhere. Daniel is hiding something that could shatter her all over again. Now she has to decide-can she survive trusting him again?/0/85720/coverorgin.jpg?v=99013b49647f6a687e890c3b0a6b2a21&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Eight Years of Gilded Cage
It was our eighth wedding anniversary, and my husband, Mark Johnson, wasn't home. He was celebrating another woman's birthday, as usual. I sat in the silence of our gilded cage, the emotional wounds from years of neglect and indifference finally festering. He never hit me, not until tonight, but Chloe's Instagram post-Mark, her, a cake-ignited a rage I couldn't contain. When he finally stumbled in, past midnight, reeking of her perfume, I confronted him. "It's our anniversary, Mark." He sneered, "At least she's fun to be around. She doesn't just sit in the dark waiting to ambush me." The words tasted like poison. "I want a divorce, Mark." His face went white. "And," I added, "I'm pregnant. And the baby isn't yours." His shock turned to pure fury. "You lying, cheating bitch." He lunged, shoved me hard, and I fell backward, hitting the coffee table. A searing pain ripped through me. I looked down to see blood spreading on my dress. "Mark," I gasped, "The hospital... please..." He just scoffed, "You think a baby that isn't mine is your ticket out? You're pathetic, Ava." He pocketed the watch I'd bought him for our anniversary and walked out, leaving me bleeding on the floor. Eight years. He left me to die. Lying there, clutching my bleeding stomach, I knew I had to do something. For my baby. My fingers, slick with blood, fumbled for my phone, calling the one person who had ever shown me true kindness. Someone I' d promised I' d never call. That night, Liam Thorne answered./1/112711/coverorgin.jpg?v=ea104a157ca88a26cdb52c365b01a0f8&imageMogr2/format/webp)
