Modern Books for Women
Bestsellers Ongoing Completed
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Too Late, My Love, You Lost Me
After seven years of dating, Holden said he was bored and found a younger girl. This time, I didn't cry or throw a fit. I simply threw away the ring, shredded my wedding dress, and bought a one-way ticket to Los Angeles. He even bet his friends that I would definitely be back within three days, begging him to take me back. He was wrong. Three days passed, and then another three. I completely vanished from his world. Holden finally couldn't take it anymore and called me: "Ella, stop throwing a tantrum. Come back." But the voice that answered from the other end of the line belonged to a strange man, who let out a low chuckle: "My wife is asleep and can't come to the phone. I need to wake her up with a kiss first."/0/61215/coverorgin.jpg?v=7a469372e47d08e4f91137827cb9c7e7&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Marrying My Childhood Sweetheart
Richard is only a year older than me, but he has always used his status as my older brother to pressure me. When we were kids, he would scold me for skipping class, and as we grew up, he would still interfere in my love life. My friends joked, "Your brother can't possibly like you, right? You two aren't even real siblings." Since then, I deliberately distanced myself from him, but during the New Year, he suddenly brought home a girl. "Tricia, call her sister-in-law." That night, I locked myself in my room and cried uncontrollably. He pulled me out from under the covers and gently wiped away my tears. "You're allowed to make me mad by dating a boyfriend, but I can't be upset with you?"/0/58464/coverorgin.jpg?v=a28e8d811522c40d6e892854f1953bb5&imageMogr2/format/webp)
In Love With My Ex's Uncle
On the day of the wedding, Brendan left me and went to find his true love. When I called him, he, who had always been gentle to me, showed impatience for the first time, saying, "It's just a wedding, I'll make it up to you when I get back." Feeling disheartened, I suggested calling off the wedding. Brendan thought I was just being stubborn, and in the face of friends' advice, he said, "It's okay, when she calms down, she will come find me." It wasn't until Edrence, the prince, posted our marriage certificate that Brendan suddenly went crazy and came knocking on my door. When he saw the man who opened the door, he was slightly stunned. And I, standing behind the man, with a blush still on my face, leaned forward and asked, "Nephew, what brings you to see your auntie so late?"/1/115905/coverorgin.jpg?v=359be4f431fe44e23580385081d37e06&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Reborn From Ashes: The Interpol Queen
After divorcing my cheating husband, I thought I had found my savior in his powerful business partner, Cole. For three years, he pampered me like a queen, building a perfect, golden cage of devotion. But on the day I happily discovered I was pregnant, I overheard him talking to my ex-husband's mistress. "Elinor is just a convenient tool. If she gets pregnant, I'll fake a paternity test and annul the marriage so she leaves with nothing." My entire marriage was a meticulously crafted lie to secure his position and protect the woman he truly cared about. Before I could quietly escape, Cole orchestrated a brutal attack. I was dragged into a dark alley, beaten until my ribs fractured, and my unborn child was violently ripped away from me. As I lay bleeding out in the freezing rain, my heart shattered into dust. I didn't understand how the man who kissed me every morning could coldly order his thugs to beat me to death just to appease his real lover. They left me there to rot, thinking they had finally erased the naive fool who got in their way. Three years later, the world still believes Elinor Marsh died in a tragic car accident. But when Cole and his elite circle attend a high-profile Interpol reception, they don't expect the new Chief Liaison Officer to step onto the stage. I am Helena Fu now, and I have returned to burn their empire to the ground./0/58451/coverorgin.jpg?v=96d5e30655fcee301e49b821dcedb557&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Twisted Hearts
My brother hates me, he hates me. He can't accept having a sister with a mental illness. He often deliberately provokes me to have an episode in front of others. Making me look ugly. The most common phrase he says is: "Haylen， I really wish you were dead from your illness." Later, I really died. But he went crazy. Every day stubbornly imitating my ugly appearance when I have an episode. Begging me to appear in his dreams for a glance./1/115070/coverorgin.jpg?v=a10a49e9a1643825f150c93370362a70&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Chief's Comeback: Too Late, Cole
My husband's affair pushed me into the arms of his partner, Cole. For three years, he was the perfect, doting husband. I thought I had finally found my happy ending. Then I overheard a phone call and my world collapsed. Our marriage was a lie. I was just a pawn, a tool to keep me docile while his true love secured my ex-husband. He had me brutally beaten, forced me to abort our child, and publicly stripped me in front of hundreds of his colleagues. His final act of cruelty was forcing me to give blood to save the woman who destroyed me, leaving me for dead on the hospital floor. But he made one fatal mistake: he trusted the wrong person to handle our marriage papers. Three years later, I returned as the new Chief Liaison Officer for the International Police. And the first faces I saw at my welcome conference were his and my ex-husband's./0/99150/coverorgin.jpg?v=09c7e1306c6b9ebe024b1e0449d56974&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Ninety-Nine Times, Then No More
This was the ninety-ninth time I caught my husband, Chase Vargas, with another woman in our five-year marriage. I stood in the hotel doorway, numb, tired of the cheap perfume and his cold, familiar eyes. But this time, his mistress, a blonde woman, hissed, "He told me all about you. The pathetic wife he's stuck with because of some business deal. He said he can't stand the sight of you." Her words, meant to hurt, were things I already knew, things Chase had made sure I understood. Still, hearing them from a stranger felt like a new humiliation. She lunged, scratching my face, drawing blood. The sting was a surprising jolt in my numb world. I wrote her a check, a routine part of this pathetic scene. Then my phone rang. It was Chase, calling from across the room. "What are you doing? Are you making a scene? Clean it up and get out. You're embarrassing." He thought I had orchestrated this, that I was the embarrassing one. The betrayal was casual, complete. "I'm tired, Chase," I said, the words finally coming from a place I thought had died. "I want a divorce." He laughed, a cruel sound. "A divorce? Elena, don't be ridiculous. You love me too much to ever leave me." I hung up. He then handed me a signed divorce agreement, telling me his true love, June, my adopted sister, was back. He wanted me to play the dutiful wife for her welcome-home concert. My heart, which I thought had turned to stone, felt a final, crushing blow. He wasn't divorcing me because I wanted it. He was divorcing me for her. I signed the papers. The ninety-ninth time was the last time he would do this to me./0/38162/coverorgin.jpg?v=2af7ad1b5fd6d8b5e19e674e63c1b9d0&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Billionaire Ex-wife: I Can't Live Without You
"Love is blind!" Lucinda abandoned her beautiful and comfortable life because of a man. She married him and slaved off for him for three long years. One day, the scales finally fell off her eyes. She realized that all her efforts were in vain. Her husband, Nathaniel still treated her like shit. All he cared about was his lover. "Enough is enough! I quit wasting my years with an ungrateful man!" Lucinda's heart was shattered into many pieces, but she summoned up the courage to ask for a divorce. The news caused a stir online! A filthy rich young woman recently got divorced? She was a good catch! Countless CEOs and handsome young men immediately swarmed to her like bees to honey! Nathaniel couldn't take it anymore. He held a press conference and begged with teary eyes, "I love you, Lucinda. I can't live without you. Please come back to me." Would Lucinda give him a second chance? Read to find out!/1/104690/coverorgin.jpg?v=fb58e47605971f1783fe919f231dd283&imageMogr2/format/webp)
His Pregnant Wife's Billionaire Retribution
My husband tore my ultrasound report to shreds at a gala, publicly declaring me barren to protect his mistress. I was visibly pregnant, but he erased me, our child, and my truth with a single, cruel lie. So I faked my death and disappeared. Five years later, I returned, no longer a fragile wife but a hardened salvage expert with a fortune. I walked into a high-stakes auction where Emerson was the top bidder. I let my son, his spitting image, make the first move. Then, I stepped from the shadows and calmly raised my paddle. "Seven hundred fifty million."/1/114014/coverorgin.jpg?v=076087d7dcfa68b7fc2d5d86d2a00b7d&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Too Late, Mr. Ex: I'm Free
Today is my fifth wedding anniversary. It's also the day my husband, Ethan, asked me for a divorce for the 38th time. He does this for Ilene, his childhood friend. The woman who crashed her car on our wedding day, leaving her unable to have children. Ever since, he's been repaying a debt of guilt, and I've been the price. For five years, I endured the cycle of divorce and remarriage. But this time was different. Ilene pushed me down a flight of stairs. Ethan found me bleeding and promised me justice. He swore he would make her pay. But days later, the police called. The security footage of the incident had been mysteriously erased. There was no evidence, no case. That night, Ilene had me kidnapped. As her men tore at my clothes in the back of a van, I managed to call Ethan. He rejected my call. I jumped from the moving van. And as I ran for my life, bleeding on the cold asphalt, I made a vow. This time, there would be no 39th remarriage. This time, I would disappear./0/60595/coverorgin.jpg?v=3f4104d0ac35ae70b662f81d04ba2649&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Counterattack To My Biased Parents
Working during summer vacation, a strange customer threw hot milk tea at me and even damaged the machines in the store. The milk tea shop sided with the customer and even took all of my wages to compensate for the damages. When I went to argue about it, I was crushed into minced meat by a large truck on the way. Opening my eyes again, I found myself back at the moment when the customer threw milk tea at me./0/86832/coverorgin.jpg?v=c6a4938ac3f335e916c0e1138d997e9f&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Wife He Sacrificed
Five times, I had felt the flutter of life inside me, only to have it stolen away. Five times, I bled and cried. This sixth time, pregnant again, I held the secret tight, terrified Emily would find a way to blow it out. Then, the storm hit: Emily was sick, leukemia, and I was the only perfect bone marrow match. David, my husband, the man who' d seen me through five losses, told me it was just "a collection of cells" and forced me to terminate our baby. He had it all planned out: my body, my child, my future, all sacrificed for Emily. He called it a "medical necessity," even as he destroyed the one locket I kept, a memento for our lost daughter, because Emily "needed symbols of hope." I laid on my hospital bed, having survived severe anaphylaxis after he forced me to consume shellfish I was deathly allergic to, a soup Emily had deliberately requested. I realized he had tried to kill me, for her. The man I married, who promised to protect me, had systematically dismantled me. He saw my pain as an inconvenience, my children as obstacles. I was trapped, isolated, with nowhere to go. But in that moment of absolute devastation, a cold, hard certainty was born. While he was planning how to use my body to save his sister, I was planning my escape. Olivia Clark was gone for good, and Ava Miller was about to be reborn./0/79709/coverorgin.jpg?v=dae65ff2a079e79f65a9f29a2bfab3dd&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Day I Died and Lived Again
Ava Rodriguez clawed for breath, her chest a suffocating vise. Her six-year-old, Leo, watched, his face pale with terror. Anaphylactic shock. Rapidly worsening. She choked out her husband Mark's name, begging him to call 911. “Mommy can't breathe!" Leo cried into the phone. But Mark, busy "networking" with his mistress Chloe, dismissed it casually as a "panic attack." Minutes later, he called back: the ambulance he'd supposedly called for Ava was now diverted to Chloe, who had only "tripped" and twisted her ankle. Ava’s world fractured. Leo, a hero in his small heart, raced out for help, only to be hit by a car. A sickening thud. She watched, a ghost in her own tragedy, as paramedics covered his small, broken body. Her son was gone, because Mark chose Chloe. Devastation. Horror. Guilt. The image of Leo haunted her, a searing brand. How could a father, a husband, be so monstrously selfish? A bitter, consuming regret clawed at her soul. Chloe. Always Chloe. Then, Ava’s eyes snapped open. She was on her living room floor. Leo, alive and well, ran in. It was a terrifying, impossible second chance. That catastrophic future would not happen. She would reclaim her life, protect her son, and make them pay./0/80092/coverorgin.jpg?v=bf402e6bec71274ee466af025f2b3c2c&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Married to the Man Who Killed Me
My empire crumbled, my life, cold ash. Olivia was gone. In their derelict New York apartment, a sealed box yielded her unseen journals. I opened one. Inside: a meticulous record of my casual cruelty—my blatant affairs, sneering dismissals, every humiliation. Then, the chilling truth: her hidden terminal leukemia diagnosis. This wasn't just a dying marriage; it was the torturous last act of a woman suffering alone, beneath my roof. Each page, a fresh wound. I recalled her "Legacy Tour"—five desperate tasks I'd scorned, obsessed with my freedom. I remembered mocking her headscarf, tossing her "filthy" wig, blind to her ravaging illness. My neglect hadn't just buried her hope; it brutally hastened her death. How could I have been so blind? So monstrously cruel? The wife I reviled was secretly ArchX, the preservationist I unknowingly battled, and a brilliant artist. She loved me, inexplicably, as I extinguished her light. Her final, faint question from the grave haunted me: "Will he… ever… regret?" Yes, Olivia. I regret. And I will dismantle the world that made me this monster, beginning my terrifying penance, even if it means sacrificing everything./0/84520/coverorgin.jpg?v=4c80d42fde9be9895bacb11bb7e98f27&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Stolen Canvas
The cheap paint fumes were the last thing I smelled, trapped in my icy attic room, a constant reminder of the art that had become my death. My body, ravaged by a cough, lay on a lumpy mattress, my vibrant, unsold canvases mocking me from the walls. My phone, clutched in a trembling hand, was my only window to the life I should have had, glowing with a live stream from a grand art gala. And there she was: Evelyn Hayes. My adoptive mother. My mentor. My destroyer. She stood on a brightly lit stage, elegant and poised. Behind her, a painting. My style. The style she' d once called "immature." Now, the art world called it "revolutionary," as the chyron flashed: "Evelyn Hayes's Masterpiece Sells for Record-Breaking $10 Million." A bitter, silent scream trapped in my chest, the phone slipped from my fingers. The world went dark. Then, a gasp for air. My body shot up, but the air was clean, fresh. The crippling cough gone. My hands smooth, strong. This wasn't my dying attic. It was my high school bedroom, six years in the past. I was alive. I was healthy. I was back. The realization hit me like a tidal wave. Evelyn hadn't just stolen my art; she had built her career on my destruction, leaving me to die alone. The pain, the betrayal, the memory of her smiling face on that stage - it all ignited a fierce, burning resolve. "Never again," I whispered, my voice trembling with a power I hadn't felt in years. "You will not destroy me again, Evelyn. This time, I will expose you for the fraud you are." The game had begun./0/89402/coverorgin.jpg?v=072cf5c6daf5c8dae1bd02d08f6cfaa9&imageMogr2/format/webp)
My Body, Your Empire
The last thing I remember is my fiancé, Ethan, swerving the car. I woke up in a hospital, my head throbbing, to the sound of his voice in the hallway. He was telling his doctor friend to harvest my kidney for his other woman, Chloe. Since I was in a coma, he said, my consent wasn't necessary. When I woke up, my kidney was gone. Ethan claimed it ruptured in the crash. A lie. He then forced me to become Chloe's personal blood bank, donating twice when she needed transfusions. He framed me for sending her death threats, having me paraded out of my apartment in handcuffs for the media. At a charity gala, Chloe whispered that the "herbal supplements" she gave me years ago were to cause my miscarriage. Then she threw herself down a short flight of stairs and screamed that I pushed her. Ethan didn't even ask. He just looked at me with pure hatred and accused me of attacking a pregnant woman. That was the moment the last bit of love I had for him died. I fumbled for my phone and called his biggest rival, Noah Hayes. "Are you still looking for a COO who knows all of Ethan's secrets?" I asked, my voice shaking. "And perhaps... a wife?"/1/106592/coverorgin.jpg?v=aadc760cc1b600f213005e276d59efe5&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Too Late For My CEO's Regret
I was just another invisible marketing clerk at the Jennings Group, a single mother counting pennies to pay for my daughter’s medical bills. Then the glass doors of the executive elevator opened, and the new CEO walked in. It was Bridger Jennings, the man who had shattered my world five years ago and left me to pick up the pieces alone. He wasn't the boy I once loved; he was a ruthless tycoon who looked through me with a gaze of total, crushing indifference. The torment started immediately. Bridger targeted me in front of the department, cutting the late-night transportation I relied on and mocking my "supportive husband"—a man who didn't even exist. When he spotted a red smudge of paint on my neck, he mistook it for a love bite from a rival. His jealousy turned into a weapon, and he buried me under a mountain of impossible work, sneering that I should let my husband provide for me instead. I stayed up until dawn to finish the task, only to realize someone had sabotaged my files to ensure my termination. My manager threatened to fire me on the spot, and Bridger stood by with a cold smile, waiting for me to crawl and beg for mercy. I couldn't understand why he was so obsessed with destroying the life I had built from the ashes of our breakup. Did he still care enough to hate me, or was he just trying to prove I was nothing more than a smudge on the glass of his empire? Slumping against my desk, I finally found the digital footprint of the person who tampered with my work. Bridger thinks he has me cornered, but he doesn't know I'm the secret artist he's been desperately trying to hire—or that he's the father of the child he's punishing me for. The war has just begun./1/114481/coverorgin.jpg?v=7dc55963921eb4201a1fa31e47c26f0c&imageMogr2/format/webp)
My Baby, My Strength, Our Future
The mangled car teetered on the cliff's edge, my leg crushed, gasoline fumes thick in the air. My husband, Holden, stood safe on the highway, directing the rescue – but not for me. He was saving her, the woman in the passenger seat, leaving me and our unborn child to the ocean below. I woke trapped in the crushed Maybach, leg pinned. The cliff loomed; the driver's seat was empty. Holden, safe outside, directed paramedics past me to Giana, his "most valuable asset," ordering her rescue first. I watched him comfort Giana, oblivious, as the car slid. My baby barely viable. Holden offered a black card for silence; Giana gloated. Ten years of devotion, a cruel lie. Rage fueled me: how could he abandon his wife and child? I swore a venomous oath: never again an accessory. I flicked his card away, shielded my pregnancy, and promised my baby escape./1/114495/coverorgin.jpg?v=352101497c61dc6d3060dd2aa5d857c2&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Fake Vows, Real Love: The CEO's Wife
For three years, I hid my identity as a billionaire heiress to build a life with the man I loved. I gave up everything to support Ben's career, believing we were creating a future together from the ground up. The day before our engagement, I overheard him with his boss, Haylie. He called me a "stepping stone," a poor, simple girl he was using to climb the corporate ladder and get closer to her. He laughed about our "humble" life and mocked the silver ring on my finger, calling it a necessary prop. He was sleeping with her, taking credit for the multi-million dollar deal I secretly engineered, and saw my love as a naive distraction. The man I sacrificed my entire world for saw me as less than nothing. My love didn't just die; it turned into ice-cold rage. So I walked out of his life and straight into the arms of my family's biggest rival. He offered me a deal I couldn't refuse. "Marry me," Jaxson Banks said with a smirk. "And together, we'll burn their world to the ground."/1/102548/coverorgin.jpg?v=e32feb19df313f2fb299ff8ed1bbfa99&imageMogr2/format/webp)
