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Romance Books for Women

Bestsellers Ongoing Completed
The CEO's Runaway Wife And Secret Triplets

The CEO's Runaway Wife And Secret Triplets

Eleanor signed the thick stack of divorce papers, quietly ending her three-year marriage to the ruthless billionaire Griffin Gill. Stepping into the lobby, she was hit by a brutal sight: Griffin was already embracing his new lover, Andrea, who loudly boasted about celebrating their victory. Before Eleanor could even process the humiliation, the hospital called. Her beloved grandmother had just flatlined. Collapsing in the ICU, Eleanor was handed another shocking test result. She was pregnant with Griffin's triplets. Knowing his wealth and power, she knew he would snatch the babies and leave her with nothing. She chose to hide. But during a grueling labor, her only daughter was born with severe congenital renal failure. Penniless and desperate, Eleanor made a heart-wrenching choice. She left the dying infant at the Gill estate's gates, forged her own death certificate, and fled to Europe with her two newborn boys. For four agonizing years, she buried her grief and transformed into Raina, a world-renowned architect. She built an unbreakable empire to protect her sons, believing she was finally safe from her ex-husband's shadow. But upon returning to New York, a little girl clutching a pink bunny bumped into her legs in a hotel hallway. "You look just like the lady in Daddy's picture," the child sobbed. It was her abandoned daughter. And Griffin, piecing together the impossible coincidences, began a frantic, city-wide hunt for his 'dead' ex-wife. Watching his black SUVs surround her safehouse from the window, Eleanor poured a glass of wine and smiled coldly. The war had just begun.
Reborn To Ruin Her: The Billionaire's Accidental Heiress

Reborn To Ruin Her: The Billionaire's Accidental Heiress

The last time I saw my sister, Tiffany, she shoved me in front of a semi-truck. Now, I' m back, reborn, watching her try to drug the ruthless Vegas magnate, Damian Blackwood. This time, I didn't stop her. I even helped, booking the penthouse, just so I could finally watch her crash and burn. But when Damian' s men seized me, not Tiffany, my meticulously crafted revenge plot shattered. He thought I was her, Mistook my unique birthmark for hers, and exacted a terrifying "punishment" that left me pregnant. I was desperate to escape Tiffany's disaster, only to realize I was now trapped in my own. As Tiffany' s delusional claims of marriage and a fake pregnancy spiraled into a lawsuit from Blackwood, I discovered my own terrifying secret. Moments after realizing I was truly pregnant and my life was ruined, Damian' s chief of staff approached me not as an accomplice, but with a question. Then, a revelation: my birthmark was the key to my true identity. I wasn't Chloe, the family failure, but Chloe Van Astor-the long-lost heiress of a rival dynasty, betrothed to Damian from birth. My tormenting "parents" and Tiffany were arrested for kidnapping and fraud, their cruel charade exposed. Damian, the man who nearly destroyed me, emerged as my destined partner. Now, he' s sealed off the Las Vegas Strip, making a public spectacle of his proposal, ready to claim me and our unborn child. My past is over. My real life, as Mrs. Blackwood, begins now.
Betrayed Wife's Secret Heir: Billionaire's Unexpected Claim

Betrayed Wife's Secret Heir: Billionaire's Unexpected Claim

Ayleen Ramirez sat in the sterile Hope Hill Fertility Clinic, her heart shattering as Dr. Finch delivered the crushing news: her third IVF cycle had failed. Eavesdropping outside a supply closet, she overheard her husband Don on the phone, laughing cruelly. "She's a defective incubator," he sneered to his mistress Alessandra. "I never used my sperm—just cheap bank donation. No trailer trash carries a Bradley heir." Betrayed, Ayleen confronted him, but her adoptive family ambushed her at home. Her parents and brother sided with Alessandra, now pregnant by Don, demanding Ayleen sign divorce papers to secure family investments. "You're an embarrassment," her mother snapped, threatening to cut her trust fund. Ayleen tossed back their heirloom necklace and walked out. She stormed the Bradley mansion, slapped divorce papers on Don, packed her bags amid his aunt's insults, and fled into the night. Drunk in a trendy bar, she stumbled into a powerful stranger—Burdette Guerrero—spilling whiskey on his crotch, then accidentally grabbed a napkin to his trousers. He shoved her away in rage. Worse, she mistook his penthouse suite for her hotel room, bursting in on his shower, smashing a mirror in panic. He pinned her to the wall, snarling accusations. How did this arrogant man know her name? Why demand she sign a mysterious contract at 9 a.m.? Devastated and clueless she's actually pregnant—with his stolen heir—Ayleen sobbed alone, the world crumbling. The next morning, she straightened her spine in the Grand Guerrero lobby, ready to face him and demand answers—no matter the cost.
Wedding Day Humiliation: A Love Lost

Wedding Day Humiliation: A Love Lost

The wedding music had been looping for over an hour. Everyone was looking at me, standing alone on the stage under the ridiculously expensive floral arch. My fiancée, Sophia Reed, was absent on our wedding day. My phone buzzed. It was a video call from Sophia. A wave of relief washed over me. Her face would pop up, she' d apologize, and the party could continue. But it wasn' t her face that filled the giant screen. It was a scandalous scene, broadcast in high definition for hundreds of our closest friends and business associates. A smug man' s voice asked, "Am I better than Ethan Miller?" Then Sophia' s voice, breathless, replied, "Liam, you' re so much better." A collective gasp sucked the air out of the room. My smile froze. My brain kicked into overdrive. I calmly activated the screen recording function. The crowd erupted, phones out, filming the spectacle. Sophia' s family stormed towards me. Her father yelled, "Ethan Miller, turn off your phone!" "Mr. Reed, what' s the point?" I asked, gesturing to the sea of phones. "Everyone' s already seen what they shouldn' t. My reputation is ruined. The wedding is a joke. So let them see it all. Let them see I' m the victim. That' s the best way to salvage my image now." Despite everything, I found myself handing him his emergency heart medication. I, Ethan Miller, the self-made man, who had endured so much for their family, including agreeing to marry Sophia despite knowing her secrets, was now publicly humiliated. But then, the unbelievable happened. "It' s fake!" she blurted out, her voice trembling. "It' s all fake! It's makeup! Even the video… it was pre-made AI footage. It wasn' t me…!" My mind, usually so quick and decisive, short-circuited. Why would she do this? Why orchestrate such an elaborate, humiliating lie? I knew then that I had to find out.
Love's Ashes, CEO's Rise

Love's Ashes, CEO's Rise

It was our fifth wedding anniversary, and I'd poured my heart into preparing a perfect dinner, hoping to mend the growing chasm between Ben and me. Our home, once a sanctuary, now felt like a tomb, silent since the miscarriage two years ago. I missed the man he used to be, before he declared we were "not meant to be parents" and our love was "beyond the physical." Tonight, the illusion shattered. Ben walked in, dismissing my efforts, revealing he'd already eaten with a "client." But the real blow landed when I found his laptop-an open chat with his young assistant, Ashley Greene, declaring she was pregnant with their twins. His next message read: "Just have to get through another pointless dinner with the ice queen." He called me the ice queen. My vision blurred. He was planning to divorce me and take everything, using my family' s massive investment as his leverage, all while desecrating the memory of our lost child by having a new family with his mistress. I was shattered, confused, and filled with a pain that was almost cleansing in its intensity. How could the man I loved, the man who grieved with me, turn such a profound tragedy into a weapon? How could he betray me so utterly, twisting every shared memory into a lie? The heartbroken wife died that night. In her place, a CEO was born. He thought he was dealing with a broken woman, but he had just awakened a force he couldn't comprehend. This wasn' t just about a broken heart anymore. This was war.
A Blackwood Heiress Bows To No One

A Blackwood Heiress Bows To No One

The Alliance Summit, a high-stakes gathering where powerful families declared their allegiances, hummed with electric tension as I, Aurora Blackwood, stood poised to make the fateful pronouncement that would bind my ancestral legacy to Caleb Vance.It was the day I once proudly, fatally, linked our futures. But I woke not as ash, but with a searing gasp, the phantom flames of my death still scorching my skin, flooding my mind with the chilling memory of Caleb Vance's face – devoid of grief, almost relieved – the very last sight before the Crimson Syndicate consumed my family, our generations-old ranch, and ultimately, me. In that terrifying previous life, Caleb had swallowed Lila Hayes's carefully crafted lies whole, allowing himself to be manipulated into feeding critical intelligence to the Syndicate, which directly paved the way for their brutal attack, culminating in the complete decimation of the Blackwoods and my own agonizing demise. The bitter taste of betrayal choked me, the searing injustice of loving a fool who believed every insidious whisper from a viper like Lila, sacrificing my family' s very existence to appease his warped sense of victimhood. But not this time; reborn with searing clarity and a heart hardened by fire, I would not repeat the past, because today, here and now, a Blackwood Heiress would definitively bow to no one but herself, and Caleb Vance would witness the true cost of his betrayal.
Attraction by Laila Ali

Attraction by Laila Ali

DARK ROMANCE "I told you, every breath you'd take, I would be aware of it," he said moving closer towards her making her take a step back. Her heart was palpitating wildly unable to withstand the intensity his eyes hold which made her eyes to move down on their own. He took one more step and she again backed away. "Didn't I, Roshanay?" he cocked his brow, his hand itching to grasp her neck. One more step by him and now her back touched the wall. She had now nowhere to go and dread was creeping up her nerves. Her eyes helplessly looked towards the door and then at him who was moving towards her with that vicious glare but a calm composure. His calmness was making her shudder, she could already feel her forlegs shivering not able to withstand her weight. She felt like she was standing in a lion's den and the lion was ready to pounce on her and break her neck. "You know," he stood infront of her, his hand beside her head and at that moment she just only wanted to hide in the wall, "what I want to do with you right now?" Her fear filled eyes just looked at him and she couldn't find her voice anymore. "Strip you off your clothes and belt the hell out of you," he muttered, "Please no! Don't do this to me!" she shrieked and within a flash he grasped her arm and threw her on the bed. Jumping over, he dug his fingers in her cheeks puckering her lips. "You need a punishment Roshanay" he gritted before pulling back. "Please no!" "Dont you dare utter a word! Not a single voice! I told you, you carry my fucking name! My fucking name! You're my woman!" he shouted making her sob loudly, "And you still had the audacity?!" he roared. By now his shirt was off of him while his hands released the belt. "Now face the consequences" And with a harsh tug, the sound of ripping of her shirt was heard followed by her heart wrenching scream
The Unseen Scars of Her Lies

The Unseen Scars of Her Lies

My passport was in my hand, my bag zipped, when my girlfriend, Sophia, walked in, fresh from a trip with another man. "What are you doing, Ethan?" she asked, her voice airy as she flaunted a high-end jewelry bag. She still thought I was just throwing a tantrum. But when I told her I was leaving her, the playful mask slipped, revealing the cold, calculating woman beneath. Then she laughed, sharp and condescending, suggesting an insincere wedding to make my "sick sister" feel important. My blood turned to ice. She didn't know. How could she? Lily was already dead. The memory of her last breath, just after Sophia's engagement party with Mark Peterson, burned in my chest. Her organ rejection, the doctors said, was triggered by emotional shock from seeing Sophia with another man. When I begged Sophia for the money I'd saved with her for Lily's treatment, she coldly refused, hanging up on me, even having her bodyguards throw me out of their mansion. Lily died on New Year's Eve, holding my hand as fireworks lit the sky. And now, Sophia offered a wedding, a shallow gesture, an insult to Lily's grave. My art, my life's passion, she called "nothing" as she destroyed my supplies, sending a wooden box crashing into my forehead, leaving me bleeding. "I need the money back," I told her, referring to the fortune I had entrusted to her over seven years, money she had instead spent on Mark and their extravagant future. She laughed, calling it "pocket change." What words could capture the horror, the utter betrayal, of realizing the woman you loved had systematically stripped you of everything-even the memory of your dead sister? What deeper depths of cruelty could she sink to? Later, as I fled, she drained my bank accounts, every last cent of my life' s savings. But a new life called to me-the prestigious international art gallery' s offer-a chance that felt like a flicker of hope after so much despair. Now, finally free, I was ready to live for myself.