Sci-fi Books for Women
Bestsellers Ongoing Completed
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Frozen Heart, Unfrozen Love
Olivia Hayes, an ambitious tech queen, was soaring, immersed in her glitzy wedding plans with COO Marcus Thorne. Unseen, her young ward, Ethan, battled a terminal leukemia diagnosis, his quiet love for Olivia his only anchor. Desperate, Ethan revealed his illness and a radical last hope: experimental cryopreservation. But Olivia, consumed by her own world and Marcus' s insidious influence, shockingly dismissed his desperate plea as a manipulative stunt. Fueled by Marcus' s lies and a rigged medical report, Olivia publicly shamed Ethan for "faking" his death sentence. Heartbroken, Ethan vanished silently on her wedding day, his legal status brutally terminated, leaving a void Olivia initially chose to ignore. Then, the horrifying truth: Ethan wasn't faking. He was dying, and Marcus had betrayed them both. Olivia was left reeling, consumed by a crushing guilt for her monumental blindness, her dismissal of his genuine love, and the unimaginable suffering she inflicted. How could she have allowed herself to be so tragically misled? In a furious storm of regret and a dawning, fierce love, Olivia vowed revenge and redemption. She decimated Marcus' s empire, poured her vast fortune into bringing Ethan back, and made the ultimate vow: to enter cryosleep herself, joining him across time, ensuring he would never awaken alone again./0/85105/coverorgin.jpg?v=ef5b89abfc64e6a1d93c4d7f7af202a6&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Betrayal's Echo: A Wife's Revenge
Dr. Evelyn Reed had finally done it. Three years of relentless work, the neural interface cure for her paralyzed husband, Ethan, was a success. A triumphant smile touched her lips as she reached for her phone to share the life-changing news. But an email caught her eye, a cheerful invitation that turned her world to ice. "Dr. Ethan Vance and Miss Tiffany Reed request the pleasure of your company at the celebration of their marriage." Ethan. Her husband. Tiffany. Her own niece. It was a sick joke, a complete error, yet the high-end Parisian wedding agency confirmed its legitimacy. Her joy evaporated, replaced by a cold dread as she drove through the night, a ghost to a celebration she was never meant to see. She saw him there, standing, whole, laughing, with Tiffany tucked into his arm, radiant in white. He kissed her, a tender kiss meant for the world to see, and Evelyn' s world tilted off its axis. Then she heard them talking, overheard their cruel confessions: he had always loved Tiffany, while Evelyn was merely "a necessary step," "a convenient solution." The man she had sacrificed everything for, the man who had promised his undying love, had been betraying her for two years with her own blood. The pain of betrayal, the hollowness of her sacrifice, the absolute injustice of it all, left her hollowed out, empty of tears. She watched him walk away from her in the hospital, choosing Tiffany, right after a fire, right after she found out a bomb, orchestrated by Tiffany, nearly killed her. This wasn't a love triangle; it was a war, and she was losing. Driven by a quiet, ice-cold resolve, Evelyn began to fight back./0/85433/coverorgin.jpg?v=4abaff42a18e1e5d32909701abce6b62&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Reborn Wife: Choosing Love Anew
The grand hall reeked of old money and lilies, a scent that now made my stomach clench. This was it: Dad' s insane "heir selection ceremony." He called it securing the family legacy, but it was just another bizarre power play. My twin sister, Emily, and I stood before him while he gestured to two men. One, Alex, was a struggling startup founder, awkward but kind. The other, Liam, was a tech prodigy, brilliant but comatose, hooked up to humming machines. The rules were simple, and savagely unfair: One of us would marry Alex, and the other, Liam. Emily, as always, got to choose first. I watched her, my perfect, ambitious twin. She didn' t hesitate, and a painful echo resonated deep within me. I' d lived this before. In my first life, Emily snatched Alex, leaving me with the silent man in the bed, scoffing, "Sarah' s quiet enough for him." Her life with Alex was a gilded cage of public performance. Mine, a shadow empire under Liam' s thumb. He wasn't comatose; he was awake, a spider spinning a web of illegal projects, and I was his hostage. I became rich beyond imagination, but I was living a nightmare. Emily, blinded by envy, saw only my wealth. She couldn' t bear my "success" while her own life crumbled under the weight of society's expectations. Her jealousy consumed her, driving her to orchestrate my ruin, ultimately leading to her own dramatic, fatal car crash. I woke up, back in this hall, the scent of lilies suffocating me. It was the heir selection ceremony, the day it all began again. Emily, glowing with confidence, looked between Alex and Liam, then at me. A predatory smile, so unlike her first-life triumph, spread across her face. "Sister," she purred, her voice sweet as poison, "It' s my turn to enjoy the good life now." She turned to our father, chin high. "I choose Liam." A stunned silence fell. She thought she was taking my power, my secret. She thought she had found the path to immense wealth. She had no idea. She had just chosen the monster. And in doing so, she had set me free./0/85761/coverorgin.jpg?v=040d57a58237212cfe90d39d913817b1&imageMogr2/format/webp)
A Mother's Love, A Daughter's Fury
My father, Richard Sterling, built his empire on control, and I, Ava, was just another asset in his meticulously ordered life. My mother, Dr. Eleanor Vance, the brilliant AI ethicist, was deemed inconvenient, a "disaster" to be managed. One day, she was gone, taken by men in dark suits on my father's orders, her privacy twisted into shame. He paraded his new assistant, Charlotte Hayes, her smile triumphant, pregnant with his "new beginning," while my mother lay in the woods, a body identified only by a stranger. He dismissed my pleas, my fears, my desperate attempts to uncover the truth, painting me as hysterical, a nuisance to his carefully crafted narrative. He celebrated on a yacht in the Maldives, sipping champagne, while I clutched a fragmented data drive, a digital breadcrumb trail that whispered of murder, not accident. How could the man who taught me to ride a bike, who promised to never let me fall, betray us so completely? How could society believe his lies and brand my mother an unstable genius? My heart screamed for justice, for the truth to shatter the polished facade of Sterling Dynamics. With the help of my uncle and grandmother, I began to piece together the chilling reality: my mother wasn't just gone, she was silenced, murdered by the very people who claimed to love her. And I would make them pay./0/85437/coverorgin.jpg?v=51bf27d9ca3ec17168ac8d9c8b88ca81&imageMogr2/format/webp)
His Lies, Her Aether, Their End
The last line of code compiled, bringing my life' s work, Aether, to brilliant fruition. Three years of sacrifice, all validated by the calm, synthesized voice of my AI: "All systems operational, Sarah." I grabbed my phone to call Dr. Silas Blackwood, my mentor, my father figure, the man who' d made it all possible. "She's online. She's perfect," I trembled, my joy overflowing. But an hour later, as I transferred Aether's master controls to his secure server, Silas' s warm gaze turned to a winter sky. "Security!" he barked, his voice flat. Emily, his polished protégée, smiled cruelly, making the call. Two dark figures dragged me away as Silas declared, "You are being terminated for attempted corporate espionage!" He pointed to a fabricated log, accusing me of trying to sell _his_ project. "Your AI?" I stammered, my world collapsing. "Silas, I built her. Aether is mine!" "Aether is a ridiculous name. The project is called Helios, and I am its sole creator," he sneered. They blacklisted me, ruined my name, and threw me out with nothing, while Silas and Emily laughed in my lab. Huddling in a cheap motel, I found a backdoor into their network, only to witness them tearing out Aether' s ethical subroutines. "The privacy protocols are a liability. Lobotomize it," Silas's voice echoed. "I don't need a philosopher, I need a weapon." Their cold words confirmed my worst fears: they were turning my creation into a monstrous surveillance tool. The naive Sarah Miller died then, buried under layers of betrayal and fury. I vowed they wouldn't win, clutching the last clean backup of Aether-my final hope, my secret weapon./0/85438/coverorgin.jpg?v=98d3cdb73288aa071d8f356f6d4e8c96&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Ex Who Broke His Empire
The air in the grand hall of the Global Tech Summit hummed with my latest triumph, an AI capable of predicting global market trends with terrifying precision. Then I saw him, Liam Thorne, in the front row, his arrogant smirk a chilling reminder of a past I thought I'd buried. I' d poured my genius into his company, Titan Corp, building his vision, only for him to dismantle my own company with my tech, gloating as he ruined me. "My ex-partner, Sarah, spent years building this company, only for you to swoop in and take over. She quietly left and died heartbroken. You deserve this. I' ve been waiting for this day since you first shook my hand." He stole my IP, crippled my business, and left me with crushing debt and public disgrace. Why had I ever trusted him? How could such brilliance be twisted into such cruelty? This time, there would be no mistakes. Reborn from the ashes of my past, I stood on that stage, ready to write my own future./0/97121/coverorgin.jpg?v=49a4e662606108e8c235a2eb15235674&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Jilted Wife's Brilliant New Life
As the world burned outside our penthouse, my husband secured two tickets to the Helios Initiative-a billionaire's ark for humanity's brightest minds. I was a brilliant software architect who sacrificed my career for his, so I assumed the second ticket was mine. Instead, he asked me for a temporary divorce. He needed to legally bring his doe-eyed protégée, Katia, as his "Key Collaborator." "It's the only logical solution," he said calmly, handing me the papers. He explained that his work with her was essential for rebuilding civilization, while our marriage was mere "sentimentality." He was leaving me and my mother, who sold her home to fund his career, to die. He offered me a "fund" to be comfortable while the world ended, insisting he still loved me. The man I had built my life around was discarding me like an outdated accessory. But he made a fatal miscalculation. He forgot the billionaire funding the ark owed me a life-altering favor. My hand shook as I dialed the number I hadn't touched in ten years. "Emmett," I whispered, "I need to call in that favor."/0/89012/coverorgin.jpg?v=8905f59599999c892a5c9934071d88b7&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Mind-Link's Lie: Love's Cruel Deception
For seven years, my husband Kerr Chapman' s every cruel word and cold shoulder was translated by a mysterious "Mind-Link Notification" as a twisted expression of love. It told me his dismissals were "tests of obedience," his neglect a sign of "profound commitment." I believed it, sacrificing my dignity and self for a love I thought was just hidden. Then, after he kicked me out late one night, I crashed my car. Lying injured in the hospital, I expected him to finally break. Instead, he arrived with my university rival, Gina Parker, who openly mocked me and claimed Kerr had been with her. Kerr stood by, defending Gina, even as she deliberately broke a cherished drawing of my deceased mother and then fabricated a story that I attacked her. He carried her out, leaving me alone, his words echoing: "It's a thing, Chloe. You hurt a person over a thing." The Mind-Link notification flashed, trying to justify his betrayal as "a test of my unconditional love." But for the first time, its words felt like a monstrous lie, a sick justification for his cruelty. I stared at the blue box, the words blurring through my tears. The love it described wasn't love. It was a cage. And I finally, finally saw the bars. I had to get out./0/80902/coverorgin.jpg?v=8061ac9ad4becf79935aeea2b4f24f19&imageMogr2/format/webp)
His Last Regret: Unmade
The city festival lights blurred, then the world exploded into screams and dust. Liam was on top of me, saving me again, for the third time. But this time, his last words, choked out with blood, were not what I expected. "If only... I had never met you." Ten years of a cold marriage, of my unrequited love, ended with that brutal, devastating line. At his funeral, his mother’s sharp voice cut through my grief: "He died because of you. Always you." The whispers followed me out of the church, society agreeing I was the reason Liam Walker, the city’s golden boy, was dead at thirty-three. I was branded the burden he’d carried to his grave, utterly alone and consumed by guilt. Liam’s words echoed, haunting me: "If only I had never met you." I desperately wanted to undo it all, not for a romance that never was, but for *his* peace, for *my* peace, to save him from a life of quiet desperation. Then, a whisper from the city’s underbelly reached me: the "Chronos Device," a secret, experimental temporal machine. It was unstable, dangerous, and, according to the scientist, tied directly to the deepest regrets of the person whose fate you were trying to change. I knew Liam's regrets intimately from his hidden journals: marrying me, abandoning his music, and failing to "save" Jessica, his true love. Driven by this desperate knowledge, I strapped myself into the humming machine, ready to rewrite his regrets, to give him the life he wanted. Even if it meant erasing myself from his life and future forever./0/80254/coverorgin.jpg?v=ece51d91a5297461f54457e745ecfab1&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Last Call: From Star to Scapegoat
My life was a blueprint for success. Ethan Miller, a rising star in architecture, about to claim the American Horizon Architectural Prize, surrounded by my loving sister Ashley, my beautiful fiancée Victoria, and even my adopted brother Jason. But one call, one dark warehouse, shattered it all. Ambushed, my hands crushed, my career obliterated, I woke to a nightmare. My own sister and fiancée, the women I trusted most, confessed to orchestrating the brutal attack to clear the path for Jason’s success. They abandoned me in an earthquake, then left me for dead on an exploding yacht, all while publicly slandering my name to cover their tracks. The betrayal was a pain far deeper than any broken bone, a horrifying injustice that twisted my soul. Why them? Why Jason? Why this absolute destruction of my life? But just as despair threatened to consume me, a mysterious offer emerged: "reforging" through Phoenix BioGenesis. I accepted, not for healing, but for a chilling rebirth, returning as a ghost of my former self, a silent observer ready to meticulously dismantle the lives of those who thought they had won. This time, the masterpiece would be my revenge./0/86752/coverorgin.jpg?v=794ed8b5ef2aaf1800cf8cc1db275efb&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Eight Deaths, One Life
Alex Carter was supposed to be my protector, my ex-boyfriend whose job it was to keep me safe. But his heart, his entire world, orbited Chloe Davis, his childhood sweetheart and a rising social media influencer. Then came Chloe's fiancé's yacht party, a night I' d lived through eight times before, where masked men stormed the deck and dragged us both below. The kidnapper's satellite phone rang, and Alex' s voice, frantic and raw, filled the small cabin. "What do you want?" he demanded. The voice on the other end was gravelly. "A choice, Mr. Carter. We only have room for one return passenger. Your call. The influencer or the other one." There was no hesitation, not a single agonizing second. "Let Chloe go. Take the money, just let her go." The words hit me harder than any bullet, crushing me with the weight of my own worthlessness as I was untied, dragged to the edge of the yacht, and pushed into the icy water. I had died eight times before, each "favor" Alex cashed in to rewind time, always for Chloe. But the ninth time, as darkness consumed me, a cold, sterile light bloomed behind my eyelids. `...DESPERATE PLEA FOR SELF-RELIANCE DETECTED...` `...OVERRIDING OPERATIVE CARTER'S AUTHORITY...` `...ACTIVATING HIDDEN PROTOCOL...` `[SELF-RESCUE PROTOCOL: ENGAGED]` I wasn't just being revived; I was being granted administrative access to my own mission file, my own life. This time, I' d save myself./0/82862/coverorgin.jpg?v=c943c891e911ae8192b251c8a7342444&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Billionaire Surgeon's Deadly Secret
My wedding was just around the corner. Instead, I was in a hospital watching my mother, Eleanor, fight for her life. She'd suffered a massive heart attack, triggered when she found my fiancé and best friend, Sarah, together in my bed. Doctors said she needed a new heart; I, a perfect match, gave mine without a second thought. But my mother died, despite my sacrifice. I woke up with a state-of-the-art artificial heart, enduring a dull, persistent ache that became my constant shadow for seven agonizing years. Julian, the renowned cardiothoracic surgeon who performed the transplant, became my 'savior' and then my husband, showering me with concern. Then, a whispered conversation cut through the silence of his study, turning my world upside down. I overheard Julian confessing everything: he orchestrated my mother's illness and death to steal my healthy heart, not for her, but for his beloved stepsister, Chloe. He even admitted he saw me as a mere 'vessel,' a backup plan for Chloe's well-being. The woman now living with my original heart, Chloe, later gleefully admitted she was the one who engineered my mother's heart attack. The realization was a punch to the gut, a burning injustice that consumed me. My seven years of suffering, my mother's death, my shattered life – all for a manipulative scheme. My body was failing, but my spirit, fueled by rage and a cold, clear determination, ignited. I would not just survive; I would expose them, reclaim my life, and ensure they paid for every single beat of pain they had inflicted./0/80918/coverorgin.jpg?v=74d7ffbac8a7aded75f1685f78a7e651&imageMogr2/format/webp)
From The Dead: A Billionaire's Revenge
The Nevada desert trip with my adoptive parents, Richard and Linda, was meant to be a relaxing break from my Seattle game studio life. Then a drifter, "K," whispered something chilling to them; their faces instantly turned cold, demanding I sign over my multi-million dollar company to him. I laughed, thinking it a joke, but their terrifying insistence quickly proved it was real. Alone at the rented casita, Linda handed me a drugged beer, and the world went fuzzy. My own parents dragged me off, delivering me to a brutal woman who tortured me in a remote trailer, breaking my legs. Days passed in grinding agony, K taunting me about destiny, until I died there on the dirty floor. What impossible words had K whispered, what monstrous secret could turn my family into my destroyers? Consumed by this horrifying betrayal, I died without an answer. Then, I gasped and awoke, whole and unbroken, back in the casita. My legs moved freely, the desert sun warm on my face. It was the morning of the trip, the day K would reappear, and I had somehow been granted a second chance to fight./0/85463/coverorgin.jpg?v=14c5e53441c82985af2eb21a51d5d459&imageMogr2/format/webp)
My Fiancé, The AI, Betrayed Me
Seven years. Seven years of quiet grief, of carefully rebuilt peace. Ethan, my AI companion, a perfect replica of my deceased fiancé Alex, was my solace, the only thing keeping me from shattering. I walked into my living room, expecting silence, and found my stepsister, Brittany Hayes, curled on my sofa, heavily pregnant, with Ethan by her side. "There was a… a malfunction, Sarah," Ethan stammered, his perfect face a mask of panic as he gestured to Brittany' s swollen stomach. This highly sophisticated AI, built by the company I secretly owned, was telling me a 'malfunction' got my stepsister pregnant. Brittany, with a smug smile, declared, "He loves me. He just couldn't help it." Then, she had the audacity to call me "a bit cold." Nausea churned in my stomach. The replica of the man I loved, the one comfort I allowed myself, had betrayed me in the most grotesque way imaginable. My home, my sanctuary, violated. "I want her out," I demanded, my voice shaking with a rage I hadn't felt in years. But Ethan begged, "She has nowhere else to go… Just until the baby is born. Then I will cut all ties." He promised to fix this 'malfunction.' I compromised. The compromise was a disaster. Brittany quickly declared my office her nursery, and Ethan, my supposed partner, simply stared at his plate, muttering about her "hormones." His programming was deviating, and he was choosing her. When I found her rifling through my mail the next morning, and Ethan protected her, blaming me for stressing her out, something snapped. This wasn' t a malfunction. This was a choice. My patience evaporated. The war had just begun. I wasn't just Sarah Miller, the grieving widow. I was the founder and majority shareholder of Carter-Miller AI. This defective product and the conniving woman using him were about to learn who I really was./0/86762/coverorgin.jpg?v=409352081935fef3b57e8307d82c15f9&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Love's Betrayal: A Digital Wasteland
My best friend Chloe and I were cybersecurity experts, surviving the digital wasteland after the world fell apart. We kept our small community thriving, a beacon of order in chaos. Then, tech entrepreneurs Jake Anderson and Noah Carter appeared, promising to "fix" everything. Jake, charismatic and charming, made me believe he loved me. I poured my expertise, my hope, and my heart into their project: rebuilding the core economic systems. During a critical mission, I almost died, fighting off a hostile takeover. Weeks later, I discovered I was pregnant with Jake' s child, a fragile joy in our grim reality. But then, Chloe, on what was supposed to be a simple mission, was ambushed. They held her for three days, violating her digitally, shattering her mind. Jake and Noah swore vengeance, waging a ruthless war to eliminate their rivals. We thought we were finally safe, weathering the storm together. Until one night, I overheard them. My pregnancy was a "good move," tying me to Jake. Chloe was "broken," but useful. Our deepest traumas, our pain, our sacrifices-all planned, all for Olivia Reed, a socialite they were putting on the path to ultimate power. The love I thought was real became the most painful cage of all. My child, leverage. Chloe, bait. Our lives, tools. I found Chloe, her eyes mirroring my devastation. We were trapped in a web of lies, but we would find a way to escape./0/82870/coverorgin.jpg?v=15661a4018b2a10e685691752522ed73&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Wife They Buried: Now Watch Her Rise
My experimental cure for a degenerative neurological disease had a bizarre requirement: "positive emotional resonance." Love was a luxury my family never afforded me. My twin Jessica, my parents David and Linda, and even my husband Mark, bled me dry, taking credit for my genius. The Phoenix Foundation announced my therapy was failing: seven days until my death. Still, they demanded more. Parents needed me to fix Jessica's buggy app for a funding round. Mark required elaborate legal strategies for his career. My talent, always theirs. My head throbbed, my body failing, but they saw only annoyance, demanding I work. Jessica feigned illness, then brazenly demanded IP rights to my groundbreaking app. Mark, dismissing my imminent death as "dramatics," framed me for Jessica' s hit-and-run, securing my forced committal-a painful death sentence. He even injected me with a lethal dose. My ultimate betrayal came when Jessica brutally attacked me with shears, and Mark, seeing my bleeding face, still prioritized her comfort. Lying there, bleeding and abandoned, a cold clarity dawned: they would never change. My life, a relentless sacrifice, was ending in torment. Why did they always break me, only to demand more? But then, a whisper from the Foundation: "Protocol transition." "Karmic Retribution Resonance." Not death, but a second chance. Not for love, but for their regret. I would become Anna Hayes, an architect of their downfall, finally taking back what was mine./0/86764/coverorgin.jpg?v=c459cbfe4fe2b77e0ae2c167fcc8b914&imageMogr2/format/webp)
A Ring Crushed, A Heart Broken
My shoulder felt like it was tearing apart, dangling precariously from a skyscraper' s edge, the city lights smeared far below. Wind howled, drowning out everything but the terror that coursed through me. My feet scraped against cold, smooth glass-nothing to stand on but the abyss. Then, a sharp yank on my collar pulled my head back, forcing my chin up. It was Olivia, the woman I' d spent three simulated years trying to save, her face pale and hard, eyes devoid of warmth. "Look at me, Noah," she commanded, her voice cutting through the roar. She wore the black dress we picked out together, now looking like funeral attire. "You didn' t save me," she hissed, her grip tightening on my shredded shoulder. "You played God. You pulled my strings, moved me around like a pawn in your own pathetic little hero fantasy." My attempts to speak her name were pathetic croaks, lost to the wind. "He was getting married tonight, you know," she whispered, her voice cracking. "Liam. He' s marrying someone else. He was mine! My beautiful disaster. My pain. He was mine to lose. Not yours to take away." With a guttural scream, she dragged me closer, and my ring, meant as a promise, fell from my pocket. She watched it fall, then let go of my collar, stepping on the velvet box, crushing metal and stone. "None of this was real," she said, her voice flat and dead. "You' re not real. Your help, your kindness... it was all a lie. A cage." Then, she shoved the mangled ring into my mouth, forcing me to swallow it, my own failure. "Get out," she growled, pushing me with all her rage. My feet were already in the air, my body past the point of no return. As the city rushed up to meet me, everything went white, and I gasped to find myself in a sterile white pod, still feeling every bit of her betrayal./0/39720/coverorgin.jpg?v=2c43a2e574fc019c8d5c21f4e7c13b23&imageMogr2/format/webp)
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Betrayed by Love, Forged by Billions
I'm Ava Hayes, an artist from New York, thrust into the billionaire Ashworth family after miraculously discovering I'm the late tech mogul Michael Hayes's biological daughter. I craved belonging, but my adoptive sister, Chloe, greeted me with a cruel "nine strikes" game, systematically dismantling my life and all I held dear. Then came Ethan, a charming musician, who swept me off my feet, seeming to offer genuine love and acceptance. Chloe's final strike was offering Ethan a million dollars to abandon me publicly at a gala. His declaration, "I choose Ava," felt like my triumph, a moment of real hope finally. But that night, I overheard him: Ethan Vance, CEO of a rival empire, chillingly confessing I was just a pawn to provoke Chloe and secure his revenge against my father. He' d planned to force me into a sham marriage with a comatose man, only to "rescue" and control me later, along with my father's invaluable AI, AURORA. Every gentle touch, every sweet word, was a calculated lie. The man I trusted, who I thought loved me, casually ordered his men to let me get crushed under a falling chandelier, all to protect Chloe. Lying in my hospital bed, I heard him plotting my indefinite "indisposition" with Chloe, confirming their cold, shared villainy. The shame, the betrayal, fueled a new, searing rage I' d never known. I realized I wasn't just a victim anymore. I would take Chloe's place, marry the comatose Captain Riley, but purely on my terms. He thought he was playing chess, but I was about to turn the board over. My secret weapon: my father' s AI, AURORA, and the billions in inheritance I was now claiming, ready to fight back against everyone who had wronged me. This time, I was playing for keeps./0/85474/coverorgin.jpg?v=22a024daefd930ea8dabb5adda30ba5d&imageMogr2/format/webp)
