Modern Books for Women
Bestsellers Ongoing Completed
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Lost Her Forever, Driven Mad by Regret
After four years locked in a high-security mental ward, Adaline's billionaire husband finally came to see her. But Carter didn't come to save her. He threw the divorce papers at her face, demanding she make way for his engagement to her adopted sister, Elois. Adaline couldn't even speak to defend herself. Her tongue had been mangled, her nails pulled out, and her leg shattered by the asylum orderlies-all paid for by Elois's trust fund. When Adaline desperately handed Carter her terminal lung cancer diagnosis, begging for just enough money to buy painkillers, he tore it to pieces without a second glance. "Do not use the city's medical resources as props for your pathetic attempts to avoid signing those papers," he sneered. He thought her coughing up dark blood was just a cheap trick. He threw a stack of cash at her face and told her to kiss his bodyguard's muddy boot if she wanted the money to survive. Her adoptive parents froze all her assets, calling her a violent psychopath, while Elois poured boiling tea on her broken leg and smiled. Elois had stolen her violin career, her compositions, and her husband, yet everyone treated the monster like a fragile angel. Why did the man who once loved her turn a blind eye to her deformed hands and bleeding throat? Why did her own family want her dead so badly? Lying in the dark, burning with a terminal fever, Adaline knew she only had two months left to live. Since she was going to die anyway, she would make sure to drag them all to hell with her./1/119272/coverorgin.jpg?v=e489e5ca715ee80df6ba76144b60224b&imageMogr2/format/webp)
His Betrayal, My Reborn Vengeance
Asher Carter was my childhood sweetheart, the man I was destined to marry. Our powerful families were intertwined, our future was set, and I trusted him with my entire soul. Then he brought Bailee into our lives. She was a striking look-alike, and he used her to stoke my jealousy, turning my love into a weapon he could wield against me. He watched, amused, as I spiraled into a caricature of myself, consumed by insecurity and rage. While I fought for a love that was already a lie, he systematically destroyed my family's business, driving my parents to their deaths in a "tragic accident." He painted me as a venomous, obsessive woman to the public, using my own past feelings to justify his cruelty. I died a pariah, completely alone. Until my death, I never understood how the man who promised to protect me became the architect of my ruin. Then, I opened my eyes. I was back at the annual gala, the night it all began. This time, there would be no tears, no scenes, and no second chances for him./0/85854/coverorgin.jpg?v=20260106210926&imageMogr2/format/webp)
A Wife's Vengeful Art
The invitation glowed on my phone, Chloe Davis beaming next to my husband, Mark. Her caption hit me like a punch: "So proud to unveil my latest installation, 'Maternal Instincts.' A huge thanks to my muse and patron, Mark Peterson." Mark. My Mark. Smiling a smile I hadn' t seen directed at me since before Leo was born. 'Maternal Instincts.' Chloe knew nothing about being a mother. She only knew about destroying one. My son, Leo. My baby. He was gone. And there she was, twisting a word that belonged to me and my son, for her ugly art. I drove to her gallery, the cold night air doing nothing to wake me from the fog I lived in. She opened the door, a slow smile spreading across her face when she saw me. "Sarah. To what do I owe the pleasure?" Her voice was smooth, like honey mixed with poison. Inside, her "masterpiece" stood on a stark white pedestal: a collection of jagged, broken gray shapes, cemented together. It was cold and ugly. "It's about the pieces of a life," Chloe purred, theatrical. "How a mother's love can shatter... Mark found it incredibly moving." Then, the final blow: "He says I capture raw emotion so much better than you ever did. He said your work was always too… perfect. Too clean. No soul." Every word a calculated strike. Not just as a wife, but as an artist, as a person with a soul. My world, already cracked, began to splinter. I saw the sculpting knife on her workbench. Cold and heavy in my hand, it felt real. Solid. For the first time in months, I felt a sharp, clear purpose. I pressed the tip against my wrist. I just wanted the noise in my head to stop. Pushed down. A thin line of red appeared, bright and shocking. It didn' t hurt. It was just a release. Then, Chloe' s shriek: "Oh my god! What are you doing? You're getting blood on the floor!" She rushed, not to me, but to grab a rag. "Are you insane? This is a polished concrete floor! It's going to stain!" Her words barely registered as the world tilted and went fuzzy. The last thing I heard was her calling Mark: "Your wife is making a scene." I woke in a hospital room. Mark stood over me, his face a mask of fury. "What the hell was that, Sarah? Humiliating me in front of Chloe? At her big opening? Do you have any idea how that makes me look?" He spoke in a low hiss, silencing my attempts to explain. "Just don't. I can't deal with this right now. I have to go back and help Chloe clean up your mess." He turned to leave as a doctor, kind-looking, walked in. "Mr. Peterson? I'm Dr. Albright. I need to speak with you about your wife." Mark sighed, a long, suffering sound. "She's fine. Dramatic. Needs a sedative or something." Dr. Albright' s voice was firm. "Your wife is not being dramatic, Mr. Peterson. She is suffering from severe postpartum depression, complicated by profound grief. She is a danger to herself." A flood of relief washed over me. Someone saw it. Someone believed me. But Mark just laughed, a cold, ugly sound. "Postpartum depression? That's ridiculous. The baby's been gone for months. This is just Sarah being Sarah. She's seeking attention. She needs to grow up." He looked at me with contempt. "A psychiatric hold? Don't be absurd. I'm her husband. I'm taking her home." Dr. Albright stood her ground. "Mr. Peterson, I am advising you in the strongest possible terms against that. Your wife admitted she wanted to die. Taking her home without professional intervention would be medically negligent." Mark' s face hardened. He leaned into the doctor, his voice a menacing whisper. "Are you calling me a negligent husband? My wife is emotional. She says things she doesn't mean. I know how to handle her. We're leaving." He turned on me. "Get your things. We're going. You've caused enough trouble for one night." The flicker of hope died. To him, my pain was an inconvenience. An embarrassment. I was utterly alone with it. Then, the door creaked open. Emily. My best friend. She rushed to me, holding me tight. A raw sob tore from my throat, full of months of pain and fear. "Oh, Sarah," she murmured, her voice thick. "Mark's assistant called him… Chloe… she posted something. I knew." "It's not your fault," I choked out. "It's me. I'm broken, Em." "No!" she said fiercely. "You're not broken. You're sick. I've seen this coming. Ever since Leo…" The mention of his name hung heavy. Ever since Leo was born, I' d been sinking. The sleepless nights, his crying, mine, the overwhelming feeling. A darkness. A fog that wouldn't lift. Mark waved me off. "All new moms are tired." Then Leo died. SIDS, they said. The fog became a suffocating blackness. A gaping hole Mark filled with Chloe. "I'm not living, Em," I whispered, looking at my bandaged wrist. "I'm just… waiting. I don't know how to do this anymore." "Then we'll figure it out," Emily squeezed my hand. "You're not alone. I won't let you be." But as Mark' s car horn honked impatiently outside, I wondered if even her love would be enough. My prison warden was waiting. He thought he could lock me away in the perfect glass house. But he couldn't imprison a woman who had already decided she was going to die. A woman with a plan./1/113108/coverorgin.jpg?v=c5f5d205f3ef78cb51ff9a57dce41adc&imageMogr2/format/webp)
He Found My Worth, Unlike Them
For three years, I was the unpaid maid, cook, and accountant for my boyfriend Kieran's family. His mother, Jeanie, never let me forget my place. "You're not legally family," she'd say, whenever I asked for basic respect. Then I found the messages on his phone. He and Jeanie were arranging his engagement to Carolina Farley, a wealthy heiress. They called me a placeholder—someone who was just "around" until a better option came along. Jeanie sat me down and told me it was time to leave, confident I had nowhere else to go. She was wrong. While they slept, I earned my CPA license. While they spent, I saved every dollar. While they dismissed me as "just the girlfriend," I bought my own condo. When Kieran finally came crawling back, begging for another chance, I had one thing to say: "I'm already married. To a man who didn't need three years to know my worth." He thought I'd wait forever. He thought wrong./0/99157/coverorgin.jpg?v=710c7c30001601d304d6c0e2bbe5f447&imageMogr2/format/webp)
From Jilted Bride To Ruthless Queen
On the ninety-ninth time I tried to marry the man I'd loved for twenty-five years, he stood me up at the altar. I went to the courthouse to marry a stranger out of spite, only to find out I was already married. My fiancé, Alexander, had forged the papers, wedding me to his driver to appease his mistress. But his betrayal was more than just a lie. He locked me in a hospital morgue, forced me to kneel before her, and stood by as she had me stabbed and thrown off a cliff. As I lay bleeding at the bottom of a ravine, I finally understood that our twenty-five years of love meant nothing. I was just an obstacle to be discarded. But as I was about to die, a helicopter descended from the sky. The man who came down was Case Dyer-my legal husband and Alexander's biggest rival. He saved my life, and I made a new vow. I would fake my death, return as a queen, and burn Alexander's world to the ground./0/85855/coverorgin.jpg?v=5f2ee1042990b123f310e977ce78842d&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Her Ex's Lies, A Broken Love
Dr. Evelyn Reed, one of the city' s most respected veterinarians, always put her animal patients first, a dedication that had earned her a quiet but fierce reputation. But her professional world was about to shatter around the deathbed of her difficult client, Mr. Harrison, a wealthy man whose golden retriever, Champ, was her true patient. In his final breaths, Mr. Harrison shockingly accused Evelyn of being his abandoned wife, claiming she' d taken his money and left him to die. Her ex-boyfriend and supervisor, Dr. Mark Johnson, cruelly presented fabricated texts as "evidence," publicly humiliating her, while young interns, whom she' d mentored, turned on her, their faces filled with judgment. The nightmare intensified as Mr. Harrison' s cousin, Brenda, and a disgruntled ex-employee, Todd, burst in, physically attacking Evelyn, destroying her phone, and further painting her as a monster, all while Mark stood by, then shoved her, demanding she kneel and apologize, cementing her isolation and despair. How could a life built on integrity unravel so quickly and viciously, by the lies of a dying man and the betrayal of those closest to her? With her career, reputation, and dignity in ashes, Evelyn, cornered and with nothing left to lose, knew she had to fight back./0/64766/coverorgin.jpg?v=1416c81d9c9f4b69f5bfa46eca501c33&imageMogr2/format/webp)
BRIDE TO THE MAFIA HEIR
Step into the gritty world of Boston's Irish mob, where Roberto Connolly, the heir to a powerful crime family, finds himself in an arranged marriage with Kylie Morgan, the strong-willed daughter of a rival clan. Will their forced union ignite genuine passion, or will their families' dark secrets tear them apart? As they grapple with their growing attraction, they face threats from all sides. Can their love withstand the dangerous world they've been thrust into, or will betrayal and violence shatter their newfound bond?/1/113109/coverorgin.jpg?v=7fed4dd05116e0950b94ed32591e7283&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Three Months Gone, Everything Changed
Elena Vance comes home from a three-month assignment in Berlin to find the locks unchanged but her entire life replaced. The Queen Anne townhouse she bought with her own savings now smells of baby powder and another woman's vanilla perfume. In her guest room, a stranger named Misty rocks a newborn wrapped in a blanket Elena's grandmother crocheted. "They said you were divorced," Misty whispers, genuinely bewildered. "Nathan told me this was our home now." Nathan—the husband who encouraged Elena to take the European project. The man who swore he'd "hold down the fort." While she was sleeping in Berlin hotel rooms and closing multimillion-dollar deals, he was moving his pregnant mistress into the house she paid for, filing fraudulent paperwork to add Misty's name to the deed, and draining their joint accounts to fund his secret family. But Nathan has made a catastrophic miscalculation. He expects tears, hysterics, a wife too shattered to fight back. Instead, Elena checks into a hotel, hires a forensic accountant, and starts recording every conversation. She doesn't want revenge—she wants a reckoning. In front of his entire family. And when the paternity test comes back, revealing a truth even Nathan didn't see coming, Elena is already gone. She's building a new life with a venture capitalist who actually deserves her. Nathan is left with nothing but a basement apartment, a ruined reputation, and the slow, excruciating realization that he destroyed the only real thing he ever had. Now he's the one watching her through a rain-streaked window, knowing she'll never look back./0/81313/coverorgin.jpg?v=2a2b1e683d1affb497b22db8cba8d618&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Shamed by Design: The Heiress's Reckoning
My roasted turkey usually brings me joy, but this Thanksgiving, it turned my stomach. My stepsister, Brittany, had cornered my husband, Richard, and was practically living at our house. Knowing my daughter Sophie' s severe nut allergy, I carefully asked Brittany if her son, Leo, had any, before serving my pecan pie. "None at all, Amy. He loves nuts," she lied, smiling sweetly. Minutes later, Leo was gasping, turning blue. Richard rounded on me, his face a mask of fury. "You did this! You knew he couldn' t have nuts!" he roared, shoving pie into my mouth as the guests stared. The public humiliation was just the beginning. My home became a battleground, my husband a stranger. He dismissed my concerns about another nut-laced cookie, leading to our precious Sophie' s near-fatal allergic reaction. But instead of remorse, he jetted off to Aspen with Brittany and Leo, flaunting their "healing trip" on social media while Sophie lay in a hospital bed. Every tag, every beaming photo was a fresh stab, painting me as the villain, the negligent mother, the crazy ex-wife. I endured the whispers, the stares, the viral video portraying me as a monster. My world crumbled, and I felt utterly alone, trapped in a nightmare created by the very people who were supposed to love me. The injustice was unbearable. How could I have been so blind? How could they destroy me so easily? Then, when I was at my lowest, a miracle. My lawyer uncovered a massive, hidden trust fund – fifty million dollars my stepmother had stolen from me. That was when something inside me snapped. Tonight, at Richard' s award gala, they expect me to apologize, to publicly grovel. But I will not break. Tonight, I claim my freedom and burn their perfect lies to the ground. This isn' t an apology; it' s my reclamation./0/79042/coverorgin.jpg?v=40d8c0d452361d5b4cc44bccc3115b63&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Framed by the Man Who Saved Her
I was living the American dream with Sarah. A small house, a steady job at the garage, and a wedding on the horizon. Life in our Montana town was simple, predictable – until Billy Rivers walked in. One afternoon, I came home early with a bouquet of wildflowers, only to find Sarah on the couch, wrapped around a shirtless Billy. She claimed he was just upset, that she was comforting him, but the way he looked at her... it was more than just a friendly hug. Then Sarah dropped the bomb: Billy was the EMT who saved her life after a logging truck nearly killed her. He donated blood directly, becoming her "hero," her "lifesaver." Now, he was down on his luck, and she insisted he move in with us. My gut screamed, but Sarah accused me of being jealous and heartless. Soon, the town turned against me, whispering about my "dark moods" and "controlling" behavior. Billy, the golden boy, played the victim card perfectly, while Sarah remained blind to his lies. Was I losing my mind, or was everyone else? Everything exploded when Billy claimed I pushed him down a flight of stairs. I was arrested, my reputation ruined, and Sarah got a restraining order against me. My life had completely shattered. But that's when I decided, enough is enough. I was going to prove my innocence, and expose Billy for the fraud he truly was, even if it meant losing everything – including Sarah./1/102078/coverorgin.jpg?v=6b76d75d40561bf7a94e5fbff5aa76d4&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Matcha Scent of His Betrayal
My ten-year marriage was a transactional lie, built on an astrologer's prophecy that my chart would ensure my husband's success. But on my birthday, he abandoned me to take his young intern, Anais, to the sci-fi festival I' d dreamed of for years. He came home smelling of her sweet matcha perfume, a green hair tie and a festival souvenir tucked in his pocket. He called me dramatic, said she was "fragile" and needed him. At our anniversary gala, meant to be his grand apology, I watched him kiss her passionately on the terrace during the fireworks display. He was still whispering promises in my ear, completely oblivious. That night, I left him the divorce papers and my wedding ring. But he tracked me down on my solo trip to Utah, finding me with my new guide, Casey. He punched Casey, then accused me of cheating. "You belong to me!" he roared. Just then, his phone rang. It was a video call from a hysterical Anais. "Howard, I'm pregnant! My parents are furious! They're demanding we get married immediately!"/0/99158/coverorgin.jpg?v=9d5210fa3e4d230d740193c7556afec2&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Neglected Wife's Spectacular Comeback
My best friend is pregnant with my husband's child. An hour ago, she stood in my living room, holding a positive pregnancy test and a grainy ultrasound photo that felt like a death sentence to my world. But the true nightmare began when my mother-in-law swept in, praised my friend for "doing the family a great service," and moved her into our home to care for the "Patton heir." My husband, the man who swore my infertility didn't matter, called her a mere "vessel" for our family. He then orchestrated an "accident" that shattered my hand, ending my career as a cardiothoracic surgeon. He didn't stop there. He sacrificed my father's life-saving heart transplant for my friend's brother and left me for dead in a landfill when I discovered the truth. I was a brilliant surgeon who could hold a life in my hands, yet I was blind to the fact that my own life was being systematically destroyed by the two people I trusted most. After faking my death and disappearing for two years, I've built a new life, a new face, and a new love. But now, he's found me. And this time, he's not just trying to control me-he's trying to bury me./0/80016/coverorgin.jpg?v=348675f092fbc87b045c557f770fb51f&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Day My Daughter Lied: I Knew My Marriage Was Over
Dying, physically and emotionally bankrupt, I watched my wife, a celebrated Air Force Major, accept an award. Decades sacrificed for her career and our daughter, Lily, had cost me everything. Katherine praised her unit’s psychologist, Dr. Vance, as her “confidant,” utterly ignoring me. Then Lily’s chilling bedside whisper: “Mom and Dr. Vance are so good together. Maybe let go. So Mom can finally be happy with him.” My heart gave out. Darkness. I jolted awake, young and healthy, reborn 20 years earlier in 1993. A second chance! Yet the betrayal replayed. Katherine planned her Greenland deployment with Vance. Soon, Lily, barely six, clung to Vance, asking, “Can Dr. Vance be my new dad?” My world crumbled. The betrayals escalated. At school, Lily publicly introduced Vance as her “Dad.” The ultimate blow: after Lily fell (due to Vance’s neglect), she lied. “It was Dad’s fault! Dr. Vance saved me!” Katherine raged, “You did this on purpose! You’re a failure!” This was a cold, calculated erasure. My past agony solidified my resolve. “Fine,” I stated, emotionless, “Let Dr. Vance be her father then.” I walked straight to the courthouse and filed for divorce. The doormat they knew was gone. The man who dreamed of piloting jets was finally flying. This time, I'd reclaim *my* life./0/92994/coverorgin.jpg?v=e8a8c1b7a44a99b66b82a44a993bf6ea&imageMogr2/format/webp)
No Mercy for the Past
I was reborn, back to the day my daughter and my husband's old flame were kidnapped. Over the phone, the kidnappers demanded I choose one. In the background, my daughter Anne and another girl sobbed. My husband Jed Bennett snatched the phone, his eyes bloodshot, and roared at me, "Katrina has claustrophobia! Save her first!" In my past life, he chose Katrina Watson, and it cost my daughter's life. I laughed, tears streaming down my face. "Mommy... I'm scared..." came Anne's faint cry through the receiver. Jed bellowed again, "Amelia! Choose! Save Katrina!" I looked at him, nodded slowly, and took the phone. Then, calmly, I said into it, "Do it."/0/71256/coverorgin.jpg?v=9c1984c06e2e4179c9f747bd0f607fcb&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Medical Martial Legend
Michael Yang, the bar waiter, was kind-hearted to save people but was humiliated instead. On the verge of death, he inadvertently got the inheritance of the immortal doctor and started a different life from then on. He obtained the miraculous medical skills of Chinese medicine, and used it to cure diseases and save lives. He was getting stronger and stronger, all kinds of beauties wanted to gather around him, and he had become the person most hated by men. They wanted to assassinate him, but they didn't know that in addition to medical skills, Michael also obtained super martial arts. He used silver needles to save and used martial arts to kill evil people. Not only did he sweep away people's contempt and ridicule, but he also won the heart of a beautiful woman./1/113110/coverorgin.jpg?v=18efeb16c2c3d196a20279b13c3be270&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Lie Behind His Perfect Life
For three years, my husband Hudson convinced everyone I was crazy. My parents. Our friends. Even my own therapist. He said my suspicions were just anxiety. PTSD from our miscarriage. That I needed my medication and a good night's sleep. But a pink butterfly hair clip in his car told a different story. It wasn't mine. And we don't have children. When I confronted him, he sighed with practiced patience—the same sigh he'd perfected over three years of making me doubt my own mind. "It belongs to a client's daughter," he said, reaching for my pills. "Your anxiety is flaring up again." I almost believed him. I always almost believed him. But this time, I didn't back down. I invited his mistress and their three-year-old son to our family dinner. With the DNA test results in my purse, I was ready to burn his perfect world to the ground. He thought he could gaslight me forever. He was wrong./1/107270/coverorgin.jpg?v=470502897e35b74a4503af64a9fe23eb&imageMogr2/format/webp)
My Son's Death, His Cruel Betrayal
For seven years, I gave up my life as a genius engineer to be the perfect wife for my husband, Jonathan, a U.S. Senator. But when our five-year-old son drowned, he didn't comfort me. He comforted his adopted sister, Hailey, and blamed me for our son's death. At the wake, he stood by as his family beat me, calling me a murderer. He watched them shove my head into a freezing pond, forcing me to feel the same terror our son felt in his last moments. His protection was always for Hailey, never for me. Then I learned the horrifying truth. Jonathan was there when our son fell in the water. He saw him struggling, but he chose to comfort a panicking Hailey first. He let our son die. So I filed for divorce in secret and vanished into a classified research project. But when he tracked me down, begging for a second chance in front of his new colleagues, I played a recording for everyone to hear. It was Hailey's voice, gleefully admitting that Jonathan had chosen her over his own dying child./0/79043/coverorgin.jpg?v=b651e01d6ca1bdce60e5d7504b38c337&imageMogr2/format/webp)
My Husband's Old Flame Gave Me My Daughter, Then Stole My Son
My picturesque New England life shattered the moment the school nurse called. Lily, my bright, artistic daughter, AB-positive? Impossible. I'm O-negative. The doctor's genetics lesson was a punch to the gut: Lily couldn't be mine. Then, the real earthquake hit. Overhearing Grant, my devoted husband, revealed a sinister conspiracy. Bea Baker, his old flame, was back, and Lily was her daughter through a twisted surrogacy plot. Grant was secretly bankrolling her silence. The betrayal deepened. He'd been drugging me, keeping me from conceiving. My 'perfect' life was a lie, meticulously crafted by a man I barely knew. He'd even developed Bea's family farm into a soulless mall, crushing her family in the process. Fury and disgust warred within me. Bea knew too much about my 'miscarriage.' She hinted at Northwood Pharma, experimental testing and my stolen baby used for science. Grant's face, smiling, taunting, haunted me. He was meeting Bea tomorrow. The affair was current, not just old history. He wants her to live with us! This charade ends now. My quest for truth had just begun. How deep does this rabbit hole go? And what happened to my own baby? Retribution is coming./1/102079/coverorgin.jpg?v=486ae6fa60474bbd23b61d2a45560a7e&imageMogr2/format/webp)
My Peace Beyond His Regret
My boyfriend, Damien, chose a Vegas trip with his toxic best friend, Branden, over our relationship, ignoring my ultimatum that if he walked out, we were over. He walked. A week later, he was back, dangling a designer handbag as a peace offering. But while he was partying, I was in the ER with a severe, stress-induced anxiety attack. The final blow came when I saw Damien had 'liked' Branden' s social media post mocking my pain. He stood outside my apartment, laughing with Branden, calling me "dramatic" and "clingy," completely unaware I had already packed his entire life into boxes. "What... what is all this, Cecil?" he stammered, his face turning from shock to rage as he saw his belongings ready for the movers. "What have you done?" I looked him dead in the eye, my voice cold and steady. "We're over, Damien. So, are these boxes going to your place, or to Branden's?"/0/83261/coverorgin.jpg?v=20260106202419&imageMogr2/format/webp)
