Modern Books for Women
Bestsellers Ongoing Completed
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His Golden Gamble
Ethan Cole, king of art authentication, wielded a legendary "Midas Touch." His sharp eye and impeccable reputation built an empire with his ambitious wife, Izzy Thorne, a titan of the New York art scene. Then, the unthinkable: a "lost masterwork" he vouched for, the Seraphini, was exposed as a masterful fake. His two-decade career shattered overnight. The ultimate blow came from his own home: Izzy, dismissing his claims of sabotage, stood by her slick protégé, Leo Vance, implying Ethan's 'rigidity' was to blame. The fallout was brutal. Ethan was systematically bankrupted, his office silenced. Years later, his gravely ill father and crumbling family business forced him back into the lion's den of the auction house. There, Izzy, with Leo by her side, publicly savaged him, outbidding him, then mockingly "gifting" him a worthless, grimy canvas. His drawing hand was 'accidentally' crushed. How could the woman he loved, his empire-building partner, be so utterly ruthless? Was this mere payback, or had deeper, sinister machinations been at play, orchestrated by the seemingly innocent Leo? Injured and stripped bare, the crushing weight of betrayal was unbearable. But Ethan Cole was no stranger to shadows. With his injured hand throbbing, his father's life on the line, he gripped his last hope: an ancient, filthy canvas from the auction's "unverified lots" no one else dared touch. He knew the greatest treasures hide in plain sight, waiting for the right touch. This was his desperate gamble, his last chance to save everything and unleash his legendary Midas Touch./1/102831/coverorgin.jpg?v=5ec6648d24c8eab6bf9f3b89dca4f77b&imageMogr2/format/webp)
My Destiny Found in Betrayal's Wake
On my 24th birthday, my boyfriend of five years, Jackson, threw me a surprise party. The surprise was his wedding to another woman, Campbell. He claimed she was dying of cancer. In front of everyone, he denied our entire relationship, calling me his "little sister." When I confronted him, his violent shove caused me to lose our unborn child. I lost my love, my baby, and my job, all for a lie. Because Campbell wasn't dying. Her cancer was fake. But as they tried to destroy me, a powerful man named Cole Smith stepped in. At a charity gala, with his help, I played the security footage for the entire room to see-the footage of him pushing me, of me bleeding on the office floor. I held up the proof of her fake illness. "There's your truth, Jackson," I said, as his world came crashing down./1/114564/coverorgin.jpg?v=6e71eed09c2b17b033e3c28312daf12e&imageMogr2/format/webp)
He Thought He Wrote My End
On the first anniversary of our reconciliation, I thought my tech mogul husband and I had finally turned a corner. Then I discovered our entire marriage was a spectator sport. It was a cruel, year-long revenge game orchestrated by him and his lover, and I was the punchline. For their amusement, I was poisoned with food contaminated with dog feces, publicly humiliated with a twenty-million-dollar auction scam, and beaten until my ribs broke by his family's private security. I endured it all, playing the part of the clueless, loving wife while they laughed about it in a group chat called "The Jillian Andrews Comedy Hour." But their grand finale was a step too far. I overheard him calmly planning to leave me to die in a remote cabin during a blizzard, a "tragic accident" that would finally set him free to be with his mistress. He thought he was writing the final chapter of my life. He didn't know I was about to use his murder plot as my own perfect escape. I faked my death, vanished into thin air, and left him to explain to the world how his beloved wife disappeared off the face of the earth./0/99859/coverorgin.jpg?v=b0f26f7185884f8db84b2f4cc6462574&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Invisible Girlfriend's New Start
After three years of being the agreeable, invisible girlfriend to my tech CEO boyfriend, Edward, I finally left him. Then Brody Frazier, his charming rival, swept into my life, determined to use me to get under Edward's skin. But at a tech gala, Edward cornered me, publicly declaring his love and flashing a "promise ring" he claimed he'd bought for me weeks ago. He did this right after his high school crush, Jeannette, announced their engagement, and right before he accused me of humiliating him. He insisted his feelings for Jeannette were a "youthful fantasy" and that I was his "anchor," his "stability." He said he loved me. But I remembered the truth. I remembered the small, hand-carved wooden bird he'd once made. A gift he'd had me send to Jeannette years ago, along with a love note he dictated himself. And I knew his desperate confession wasn't love. It was damage control./0/81243/coverorgin.jpg?v=991a2663f97916fc853f6a9b7552f0f0&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Heiress They Left to Drown
My life was a perfectly curated display: a philanthropic heiress, a devoted husband, and annual galas that outwardly celebrated our unwavering love. But beneath the glittering facade, I stumbled upon a chilling truth: my charming husband Julian and my beautiful sister Liv were not just having a secret affair, but meticulously plotting to strip me of my family's fortune, revealing our entire marriage was a calculated lie, designed solely to gain control of my inherited shares. Julian had always prioritized Liv, abandoning me during my health crisis or fleeing to her side whenever she summoned him, yet nothing prepared me for the night my sister Liv maliciously shoved me into our estate' s ornamental pond. As I struggled to breathe, watching my heavy gown pull me under the shockingly cold water, I saw my husband, my father, and even my college sweetheart all swim past me without a glance, their sole focus on rescuing Liv, who theatrically thrashed and feigned distress in the shallow end. I was left to sink, utterly and completely abandoned. My entire life, it seemed, I' d been the overlooked second choice: my parents showered Liv with affection, my first love chose her vivacity over my quiet nature, and now my husband, the man who had promised unwavering devotion, had merely used me as a pawn for her ambition. How could every single person I ever trusted consistently choose her over me, again and again? As the dark water enveloped me, a strange, profound peace solidified my resolve: the suffocating, theatrical performance of my past life was finally over. I would burn down every painful lie, completely erase Ava Chen, and painstakingly sculpt a new identity, a new life, a true sanctuary where I was the main character, never just an afterthought in someone else's story./0/81869/coverorgin.jpg?v=75485ab9af5be60624d6c72cd65e2cd3&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Her Last Game
My daughter, Emily, lay brutally assaulted in a hospital bed, clinging to life. But the real nightmare began when my wife, Jessica, cold and unfeeling, told me the police found Emily' s blood on my jacket. The Assistant District Attorney I married betrayed me instantly, letting the police drag me away while she watched. She froze my assets, publicly shamed me, and twisted our shared love for Emily' s art into proof of my depravity. Driving home, a dashcam recording exposed her chilling plot with her ex-lover, Ethan: they orchestrated Emily' s attack to frame me, seize my brewery, and coldly deemed Emily's suffering a "small price." Even worse, I learned Jessica had been feeding him information for years, believing his lies that I had wronged her, making her a willing participant in the scheme to destroy me. How could the woman I loved, Emily's mother, be such a monster? The betrayal was a physical blow, choking me, drowning me in a profound sense of injustice and utter powerlessness. But after Ethan and Jessica left me for dead, a hospital call pierced the darkness: Emily was awake. And she had named her attacker./1/104396/coverorgin.jpg?v=804ff1dc2e692426404a54c8b4bd030a&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Surgeon's Five-Year Lie
For five years, my celebrated surgeon husband was my hero, my devoted caregiver through a brutal battle with cancer. I thought our love was a blessing. Then a different hospital revealed the truth: I was perfectly healthy. I overheard him confess to his assistant, Brianna. My illness, the dozens of surgeries, the constant pain-it was all a monstrous, calculated lie. They had kept me sick to keep me dependent. They even performed an unnecessary hysterectomy, stealing my ability to have children as a twisted "compensation" for his mistress's obsession. His final betrayal was bringing a pregnant Brianna into our home, expecting me to raise their child. He truly believed I was so broken I would just accept it. But he made one mistake. He forgot the love letter he signed before our wedding, a promise that if he ever betrayed me, I would be free. When he sent me to the market for his mistress, I walked out of that gilded cage and never looked back./0/85780/coverorgin.jpg?v=31f25ad39b0d70a992211aa64a1d7f13&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Coma, Betrayal, and Broken Hearts
The monotonous beeping was the first thing. Not the familiar sounds of my life-architectural blueprints or classical music. Then came the blinding glare and the crushing impact. I was on my way to Lily' s school play. When I opened my eyes, a nurse told me I was Mr. Johnson, that I' d been in a coma. My wife, Sarah, and daughter, Lily, were safe, she said, with a pity that chilled me. Ten years. A decade gone. My heart shattered as I searched a tablet for Sarah. She wasn' t the warm woman I knew, but CEO Sarah Miller, a tech titan, always pictured with Alex Chen, her "constant companion." I frantically searched for Lily, finding nothing. It was as if she' d vanished from her mother' s glossy new world. Ignoring hospital staff, I ripped out my IV. Weak and desperate, I fled. I found Lily on a street corner, a ghost of my seven-year-old girl, selling charcoal sketches. Thugs harassed her, a city official threatened to confiscate her work, and then Sarah' s sleek car pulled up. My wife looked at our daughter, not with warmth, but cold annoyance. "Lily, just stop. You' re hopeless." The word echoed, hitting Lily harder than any physical blow. Something inside me snapped. Ten years of helplessness erupted. I attacked the thugs, the official, protecting my daughter. Then, Lily collapsed. Back in a drab hospital, I called Sarah. Her assistant dismissed me: "Ms. Miller is in a very important board meeting." Later, a kind nurse revealed Lily paid for my care, sacrificing everything. My daughter, starving, while her CEO mother was too busy. When Lily visited, gaunt and tired, she tried to lie about an art class, but I knew. She was going back to work the streets for me. My wife was in a board meeting while our daughter gave up her life for mine. Raw guilt and rage consumed me. I vowed to get stronger, to save my daughter./0/95792/coverorgin.jpg?v=c96147618713fd53d3b50ae6f8dd9ac1&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The CEO Fired His Secret Heiress
I was the secret weapon who built my CEO's company from the ground up. But the moment he hired his new intern girlfriend, my life became a living hell. She publicly humiliated me, calling me a corporate whore. She sabotaged our biggest deal by projecting deepfaked porn of me onto the screen during the signing. Then, she smashed an award over my head, leaving me bleeding on the office floor. And the man I'd dedicated five years of my life to? He looked at my bleeding wound, then at his crying girlfriend, and believed her when she claimed I attacked her. "You're fired," he spat. He thought he was firing a disgraced employee. He had no idea he was firing Allie Valenzuela, the sole heiress to the very corporation that had just saved his company. My next call wasn't to a lawyer. It was to my father./0/83903/coverorgin.jpg?v=c0a3e6768c60a3aa1b190a0962d4e422&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Second Chance Citadel
The Citadel' s emergency comms system exploded with red alerts. I was at my post, ready to defend, until I saw the man I loved, Matthew, my fiancé, leading his entire elite team off-campus for a supposed "training exercise." It was a lie orchestrated by his obsession with Sabrina, the newest recruit they were celebrating in downtown. In another life, I' d chased after them, only to witness Sabrina' s capture and execution, leading Matthew' s grief-fueled rage to turn on me, ultimately putting a bullet in my head. This time, I stayed, determined to change our fate, but Matthew' s arrogance and blinding infatuation led to a new nightmare. He cut me off, refused to believe the attack was real, clinging to his misplaced trust in Sabrina while the Citadel fell, his mother Maria captured and later brutally killed. Then came the accusation, an echo of my past: Matthew, again consumed by rage and manipulated by Scythe' s lies, aimed his gun at me, blaming me for his mother's death. Why did he always fall for the trap? How could he be so blind? But then, a loyal junior agent burst in, exposing Sabrina as the hidden daughter of Scythe' s leader, the true mole who poisoned our team. As Matthew' s world shattered, his father, Director Lester, stepped in, putting a decisive end to Sabrina' s treachery. Now, I'm back, armed with knowledge of betrayal and a second chance, tasked with rebuilding the Citadel from ashes. But the phantom pain of Matthew' s first betrayal and the searing memory of his bullet still haunt me./0/86406/coverorgin.jpg?v=4734f60e7234695e9d10dba6f02971fb&imageMogr2/format/webp)
April Fool's Betrayal: A Sister's Revenge
"I'm pregnant." Ashley Roberts announced, her hand resting smugly on her flat stomach, eyes on my brother. It was April Fool's Day, but my parents weren't laughing. They erupted in joy, celebrating their impending grandchild. I stood by, a cold dread spreading through me. This wasn't just déjà vu; it was a horrifying replay of my past life. Ashley's fake pregnancy had been a trap, draining my parents' retirement for a luxury condo. Then, she came for me, demanding $100,000. "Sarah, you have to help," my mother had tearfully pleaded, "It's for your nephew! Don't you care about family?" I' d caved, took loans, sold my car, and gave her every penny. When her belly stayed flat, she faked a fall, blaming me for a "miscarriage." Mark, blinded by grief and her lies, believed her. He found me later, his eyes burning with rage. He beat me, broke my bones, and left me for dead in a dark alley. My last breath was a bitter regret: Why was I so weak? Then, I woke up, back in my bed, on April Fool's Day. A second chance. Now, watching them fall for the same lie, a simmering rage replaced my fear. This time, I wouldn't be financially stripped or manipulated. "Sarah, did you hear that? Ashley needs some help. You' re the aunt, you have to chip in. It' s your duty." My father nodded, "Your mother is right. We're all putting in our share. It's only fair." They expected me to sacrifice myself again. I put my coffee cup down. "No," I said, my voice clear and steady. The room fell silent. "What did you just say?" my father asked, his voice low and dangerous. "I said no. I'm not giving her a single dime."/0/93915/coverorgin.jpg?v=4883369b3aa8cb918f7a9543918fef4f&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Shattered Face, Unending Revenge
My ten-year-old brother was dying from a bee sting, his breath catching in his throat. I was terrified, but relief washed over me when the ambulance arrived. Help was here. But the paramedic wasn't looking at my brother. She was staring at the watch on my wrist, a gift from my fiancé, Graham. When I told her his name, her professional mask shattered. "Graham is my man," she snarled. She was his psychotic ex-girlfriend. She kicked her medical bag shut and let my brother die on the grass, calling him a "bastard." Then she and her brother beat me unconscious. I woke up strapped to an operating table. With a scalpel in her hand, she whispered, "After I'm done, do you think he'll still want to look at this face?" She carved up my face and then, with chilling satisfaction, destroyed my ability to ever have children, ensuring I could never give Graham the family she believed was hers alone. She took everything from me-my brother, my face, my future-all because of a delusion. When Graham finally burst in, he didn't recognize the bloody mess on the table until he saw a tiny scar by my eye. The man I loved vanished, replaced by something cold and merciless. He looked at me, then at her, and I knew the law would never be enough. Our revenge would be absolute./0/84529/coverorgin.jpg?v=142685a38fe1b1f54673190801018857&imageMogr2/format/webp)
A Price on Freedom
"Just drink it, Emily, it\'ll help you relax." David Clark\'s voice was smooth, but his grip on my arm was tight, pushing a dark, sweet-smelling liquid toward me. I looked at him, his face a charming mask, and knew he wanted me drugged for a photographer he\'d hired. He aimed to frame me, his fiancée, in a scandal to boost his political campaign. My refusal turned his charm into an ugly snarl, his hand grabbing for me as he threatened to ruin me. Just then, our hotel room door exploded inward. Two grim men in sharp military uniforms stood in the doorway, led by Captain Alex Stone. I, Chloe Miller, a tech inventor from the 21st century, had woken up in Emily Hayes\'s nineteen-year-old body, trapped in the 1980s. Emily\'s pre-arranged marriage to David, her family\'s desperate bid for security, was about to become my public nightmare. This was not my life. I stumbled forward, feigning fear, accusing David of trying to drug me, seizing the unexpected opportunity. Captain Stone, suspicious yet bound by duty, took me under his wing, dragging me into the heart of his powerful, tangled family. My engagement to Alex became my shield, but it also painted me as a gold-digger, an enemy to his vindictive aunt Clara, her resentful son Mark, and his jilted almost-fiancée Anna Lewis. Then, on my wedding night, Clara orchestrated the ultimate humiliation, bringing my poverty-stricken, opportunistic family to the mansion to stake their claim. I knew then that I had to fight, not just for survival, but for autonomy. Meeting Alex in secret, he revealed his true motive for our marriage: I was to be his "unassuming" tool, a corporate spy to secure his family\'s legacy. I accepted. This was my chance not just to survive, but to truly live and rebuild, turning what was meant to be my ruin into my ultimate rise./1/102050/coverorgin.jpg?v=5e53b45ebef0e8c78c73b82d6dca50bd&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Echo She Chose To Erase
I was Aegis's top operative, betrayed by my fiancé, Hazen, and the very woman I had rescued and mentored, Bianca. They conspired against me, framing me as unstable and jealous. Hazen, the man I was supposed to marry, chose to believe her calculated lies over my raw pain, even after he caught them together. He pushed me, causing a head injury, and then publicly condemned me when I tried to expose Bianca's manipulation. My own partner, my friends, everyone I had saved and fought alongside, turned against me, siding with the "fragile" victim she pretended to be. Hazen's final betrayal was the coldest. He had me tortured, then left me broken in a cell, all to protect Bianca's fabricated innocence. "You are a liability, Echo," he had said, his eyes devoid of love, "a dangerous, unstable liability." I was left with nothing, my spirit shattered, my entire life a lie. The accusations, the abandonment, the sheer injustice of it all-it was a poison I couldn't live with. So I did the only thing I could. I walked into a clandestine clinic and had them erase it all. Now, I am Evelyn, a quiet bookseller in Vermont. I remember nothing. And today, three years later, a man with haunted eyes just walked into my shop and called me by a name I don't know: "Echo?"/0/82652/coverorgin.jpg?v=92796005809bb188053a1aad5b501bc8&imageMogr2/format/webp)
My Wife, The Killer's Keeper
My life was simple, if not exactly thrilling. An ex-Army Ranger, now a mechanic, living with my CEO wife, Cassie, in a world miles from my own. Then the call came, shattering everything: my mother, an intrepid investigative journalist, brutally murdered, dismembered, her eyes gouged out, her tongue cut. The police couldn't find a lead until security footage revealed the custom-engraved hunting knife – and then, I saw it, advertised for auction by my own wife's company. My wife, Cassie, bought the very weapon for her charismatic executive assistant, Marcus Vance – the man my mother had been investigating. He taunted me with vivid details of her torture, laughing as he had me beaten, then imprisoned in our home' s steel-reinforced panic room, my own wife convinced I was simply 'unstable.' Just when I thought it couldn't get worse, Marcus brought in an urn. My mother' s ashes, he casually explained, would make a 'strong, durable, permanent' foundation for our driveway. The ultimate desecration, a final, horrifying insult that crushed me. How could my life, my family, have fallen to such depravity? But in that moment of absolute despair, something shifted. A Ranger doesn' t break. I escaped, battered and bleeding, making a desperate pilgrimage to Washington D.C. There, at the steps of the Department of Justice, I collapsed, but not before leaving my father' s Medal of Honor and a bloody handprint – a silent, defiant cry for justice against the monsters in my own home./1/101581/coverorgin.jpg?v=1558c064e4e60287b2acad38ebf8dab4&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Her Vengeance Rises From The Asylum
I walked into the luxury boutique on Fifth Avenue, the air conditioning chilling my skin. There she was-Alivia, my adopted sister-swiping my husband' s Black Card for her wedding dress. Three years ago, she tampered with the neonatal equipment during my home birth, suffocating my newborn son. Then she told everyone I was a drug addict who killed my own baby in a hallucination. My husband, Carter, didn't just believe her; he locked me in a high-security psychiatric facility in Nevada to "fix" me. For three years, I rotted in isolation while she took my life, my husband, and paraded a child that wasn't even his as the Fletcher heir. Even my parents sided with her, protecting their image over their own daughter's sanity. They think I' m still the fragile socialite who would crumble under their gaslighting. They think I' m here to beg for forgiveness. I pulled a silver flash drive from my clutch and stepped into the light. "Shopping for a wedding dress, Alivia?" I whispered, my voice cutting through her laughter. "I hope it goes well with the forensic report proving you murdered my son." The game is over, Carter. I' m not here to reconcile. I' m here to burn your empire to the ground./0/81870/coverorgin.jpg?v=3d5137d54bfe62085d90e59bfb41abfb&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Heiress Who Broke My World
My family and I sacrificed everything, our entire lives and savings, for my fiancée Isabelle, who lay in a coma for a year after a seemingly minor car accident. We moved mountains, sold our home, and poured every penny into her recovery, believing in a love that demanded ultimate devotion. But the day she "woke up"-healthy, laughing, and throwing cash at my feet after her luxury SUV clipped my leg-she revealed it was all a cruel "loyalty test." Her "test" had already cost me everything: my mother, who skipped vital heart medication to save for Isabelle and died; my father, overworked to death at an unsafe Vance Corporation construction site; and my little sister, trafficked and murdered for trying to earn money for Isabelle' s fictional medical bills. While I stood numb, having just identified my sister's body hours before, she, surrounded by her aristocratic circle, merely laughed, celebrating her "recovery" and my "loyalty" as her casual cruelty sliced through what little I had left. The half-million dollars she and her manipulative ex-husband then offered me as "compensation" felt like blood money for my lost family. I took my mother, father, and sister with me-their ashes in a small suitcase-left everything else behind, and walked away from her gilded cage forever, seeking a quiet peace far from the monsters who devoured my world./0/83904/coverorgin.jpg?v=c8a52e190b4db3f101ae8339eb1ff81b&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Violinist's Secret
I spent my childhood isolated, my violin the only companion, fueled by my father's promise: master it, and my estranged mother would return. She did come back, but not for me. My mother, Sabrina, arrived with a fragile half-brother, Caleb, and eyes that held no warmth, only a chilling disdain. I quickly discovered I was nothing but a painful reminder of a past she hated. My father, a tech mogul, used Caleb's critical illness as leverage, caging my mother in our sprawling estate. My desperate attempt to help Caleb backfired spectacularly, revealing my own hidden, life-threatening blood disorder. The world shattered around me overnight. My entire existence was a carefully constructed lie designed by a father who controlled my fate, and a mother who openly despised me, wishing I'd never been born. Now, with Caleb tragically gone and my parents' twisted war reaching a deadly climax, I must confront the shocking truth of their love, their hatred, and who I truly am amidst the wreckage./0/86407/coverorgin.jpg?v=bcc2a546537ea8f5ca526f20ea81a8be&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Wife Who Escaped Cruelty
My sister Lily wanted to swap her life with a dog just to get into Harvard. I tried to stop her, to talk sense into her, because who in their right mind would do something so insane? But instead, I found myself on a rooftop, my hands tied, Lily' s wild eyes screaming. "Jump, Sarah! Jump!" She pushed me, and as we plunged towards the city lights, my last thought was of the bitter irony – I tried to save her, and she killed us both. Then, I gasped, my eyes flying open. I was back in Lily's bedroom, the air thick with the scent of expensive perfume and desperation. She was standing there, holding that familiar, ugly flyer, saying the exact same words: "The college entrance exams are in three days. This is my only chance." My mother walked in, two glasses of juice in hand, and smiled at the flyer. "Oh, are you two finally discussing the plan?" They were a team, and I was the enemy, again. But this time, looking at their cruel and delusional faces, a cold calm settled over me. My kindness had been their weapon. This time, it would be different. "No, I' m not jealous," I said, my voice steady, eyes locked on Lily. "I think it' s a brilliant idea. I' ll even help you." Because this time, I knew the truth. I remembered the cold satisfaction on Ethan Blackwood' s face as we fell. He wanted this to happen. The dog, the ritual, all of it. And this time, I was going to let him have his show./1/117538/coverorgin.jpg?v=ba9e185f8c682b04a0a1738f4a80b05b&imageMogr2/format/webp)
