Modern Books for Women
Bestsellers Ongoing Completed
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My Stolen Kidney, His Shattered World
I woke up in a sterile hospital room, groggy from what my fiancé, Ethan, insisted was a routine appendectomy. He sat by my bed, holding my hand, his expression a careful mask of concern. For ten years, I'd poured my life into him, believing we were everything to each other. Then, hushed voices drifted from the hallway. "You drugged her and took her kidney for Olivia?" I heard Ethan's best friend whisper, furious. "Are you insane?" Ethan's ice-cold reply shattered my world: "Olivia needed it. Amy's strong, she'll be fine. She wants to marry me, right? This will be my gift." My breath caught. My kidney? A physical blow. The appendectomy was a lie, a cover for the unthinkable: my organ stolen for his obsession, Olivia Vance. And the baby? Olivia had orchestrated my miscarriage with "supplements"—Ethan knew. Ten years of my life—my career, my inheritance, even nursing him back from paralysis after Olivia pushed him—all sacrificed for this calculated betrayal. He saw me as a malleable possession, his "safety net," believing I'd simply "understand." Even the nurses confirmed it: he'd been lavishing attention on Olivia in the VIP wing while I was just "poor Ms. Hayes." My heart splintered into a million pieces. I meant nothing. Less than nothing. The organ ripped from me wasn't just flesh; it was the last piece of my foolish love, discarded. How could the man I loved, the man I sacrificed everything for, be so casually cruel? Could love be so utterly devalued? The agony in my soul was far worse than any physical pain. Enough. My trembling hand reached for my phone, scrolling past old contacts, past pity. My finger stopped on one name: Marcus Thorne. He'd always offered quiet respect, a lifeline I never knew I needed. My voice, gaining a sliver of steel, cut through the tears. “Marcus, I need your help. Will you marry me? Today, if possible. Not Ethan. You.”/1/114490/coverorgin.jpg?v=610cc7e6653d6e79dfbb7bb3c5138a86&imageMogr2/format/webp)
He Destroyed His Own Empire's Creator
My husband, Colton, the Wall Street mogul, slid annulment papers across the table, coldly discarding me and our unborn child. He thought he was getting rid of a useless wife, but he was actually throwing away the secret architect of his entire empire. Now, I'm ready to make him pay for every insult, every lie, and every single secret I've kept. For three years, eight months pregnant, I secretly saved Colton's ten-billion-dollar company from collapse, enduring a cold, transactional marriage. One night, he shattered that illusion, serving annulment papers and callously discarding me and our unborn child. I signed, leaving luxury behind. Exposing his butler's fraud, I escaped. Colton later found his wedding ring gone and, on his desk, my SEC compliance fixes—proof I was his hidden genius. Blindsided, he realized he’d destroyed his own empire. His mother then called, gloating. The injustice ignited a fierce resolve within me. The next morning, I launched Kidd Legal Consulting. I'd use forty-seven folders of Farmer Capital's un-patched loopholes to force a fair settlement, securing my daughter's future./0/82264/coverorgin.jpg?v=cc39eded135348faadc8ac4f393e3aba&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Divorce That Set Him Free
I' d just told my best friend I was divorcing Ava. My voice was flat, even to my own ears. I, Ethan Miller, a quiet architect, had secretly loved the dazzling heiress Ava Chen since college. When her fiancé Julian abandoned her at the altar, I stepped in, marrying her in a desperate hope for a love that was only real on my side. For three years, our marriage was a sham, a constant competition against Julian Vance, her manipulative college flame. Every crisis, every whim, every late-night call – Julian always came first. My patience, my silent devotion, slowly eroded. The breaking point came when I finally snapped and struck Julian in his hospital room, after hearing his smug taunts about Ava always belonging to him. Ava rushed to his side. She didn't ask what happened. She didn't hesitate. Her eyes, filled with a burning hatred I' d never seen directed at me, met mine. "You monster!" she spat, cradling him as he groaned dramatically, abandoning me completely in that sterile hospital room. In that single, shattering moment, I understood. My quiet love, my patient endurance, my entire place in her life, was nothing. I was a placeholder, easily discarded. The "wife" I loved saw me as a villain for daring to challenge her golden boy. A bitter, cold resignation settled over me; my dream, my stolen happiness, was truly over. So I packed my life into a single suitcase. I finalized the divorce papers I' d given her a month ago, the ones she' d signed without reading. I quit my job, bought a one-way ticket, and left New York for San Francisco, abandoning everything that tied me to her. But I never expected the woman who' d always ignored me to suddenly fight to get me back./0/82577/coverorgin.jpg?v=13382caec2f4297caf3c6e57f21de8a4&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Lies She Built
My life as a carpenter was hard, but simple, built on providing for my wife, Kate, and our son, Ethan, who worked tirelessly delivering food to help our "struggling" family. Kate always said we were barely scraping by, and I believed her. One phone call changed everything: a cop on the line, "Mr. Peterson? There's been an accident involving your son, Ethan." My world shattered. Ethan, my brilliant, hardworking son, was dead-a hit-and-run victim. But as I reeled, Kate was cold, distant, her phone leading me to an Instagram post where she beamed at a lavish gala. She was celebrating with Liam Carter and his entitled son, Josh, next to a new sports car, their "bright future." My son was gone, and my wife was living a shocking, joyful lie. The truth emerged from hushed words: Kate had a massive secret fortune, bankrolling Josh, while Ethan, unaware of her deceit, worked himself to death. My son died trying to help us, and his inheritance effectively funded his killer. The betrayal was a burning poison, consuming my grief. The final, brutal revelation came in a hospital corridor: Josh, Kate's spoiled protégé, had hit Ethan with the very car she'd bought him, all as I received my own death sentence-late-stage mesothelioma. As police arrested Josh for vehicular homicide, I knew my life was over, but Kate's twisted game had just begun./0/85393/coverorgin.jpg?v=a2b60bfda74d7965a4c7115dd552fa87&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Scorned By Family, Freed By Fury
The charity gala was supposed to be my final act of freedom, a staged exit from a life that wasn' t mine. Instead, it ended with the shriek of shattering glass, my sister' s scream, and the cold accusation in Charlotte Sterling' s eyes, a theatrical terror I knew was fake as she bled onto the pristine marble from a self-inflicted wound. Suddenly, every eye in the room, including my adoptive family' s, landed on me, fixing me with a gaze riddled with panic, concern, and finally, pure hatred, as Charlotte whispered her fabricated story of being pushed to our mother. "Get her out of my sight," my adoptive father, Richard Sterling, snarled, his voice a low growl directed solely at me, a torrent of fury replacing the warmth that once existed. My adoptive brother, Ethan, dragged me from the ballroom, away from the judging crowd, and into the raw, damp confines of the basement wine cellar, proclaiming I would stay there until I understood what I had done. For two years, I had been Ava Miller, the grateful orphan, tasked with exposing Sterling Corp' s illicit operations, but now, abandoned by my agency and starved by my supposed family, a chilling realization ignited within me. I wasn' t just a victim of betrayal; I was an agent, and if I got out, I wouldn't just pick up the pieces-I would build something entirely new, something forged in vengeance./0/81795/coverorgin.jpg?v=a985add786dfc333ea11024dc13baec7&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Breaking the Oath
The first lady of the Ji family loved An Seung to death. The whole world knew it. But just before their wedding. An Seung found out that Ji Huai Gu had already married a male model. She even traveled to Spain to marry the male model. Ten years of love had come to naught. So he decided to fake his own death to escape. But the 100-billion-dollar leader of the Ji family, , is crazy enough to say he wants to die in front of everyone. ....../1/109641/coverorgin.jpg?v=d8f754c30c48a406d9b6f2c17e32b2e1&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The "Dying Wife" He Abandoned: Too Late to Regret
My husband, Ethan Vance, glanced at the wrong intake report and thought I was the one dying of late-stage brain cancer. He instinctively stepped back. "The company's about to go public. Cash flow is tight. For the sake of the business, we should stop treatment." I clenched the real diagnosis in my coat pocket, the one with Ethan's name on it, and swallowed the impulse to save him. To force me out with nothing, he cut off my medical payments, transferred 50 million dollars in assets, and even sent our daughter to the Silverpeak Republic as leverage. A month later, at the Meridian Exchange celebration gala, he wrapped an arm around Bella Carrow, his mistress, and sneered at me. "How are you still alive?" The next second, blood gushed from his nose, splattering across Bella's white dress. As he convulsed and collapsed, I curved my lips into a cold smile. "Because the one who's terminally ill is you."/1/100255/coverorgin.jpg?v=47d11559b96ff7bc531d0a5a35ec8e6f&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Ninety-Nine Engagements, One Betrayal
After ninety-nine failed engagements, I finally married Brooks Preston, a stoic tech mogul who seemed to be the only man on earth who found my motormouth personality "charming." But his quiet acceptance was a lie. I was just a convenient prop, a wife he needed to hide his obsessive, incestuous love for his adopted sister, Everleigh. When I discovered their secret and demanded a divorce, he locked me in a dark, windowless room, weaponizing my childhood claustrophobia to break me. He needed me to take the fall for Everleigh's crimes, to protect her at all costs. He watched me scream and claw at the walls for three days, my terror a spectacle for his cold, calculating eyes. He wasn't just indifferent; he was a monster. I didn't break. Instead, I waited. On the night of a live-streamed gala, I looked into the camera and smiled. "Everleigh, darling, congratulations. I've already divorced him. He's all yours."/1/101976/coverorgin.jpg?v=f52d7f8e85b43bdc1dc28319f8b362a7&imageMogr2/format/webp)
He Fired Me For The Other Woman I Ruined Him
I was the top agent in the entertainment industry. On the day of the gala event, Evan's newly signed model, Jayne Jones, wore my limited edition jacket and demanded my dismissal, claiming that the style was outdated. I assumed she didn't know who I was and asked her, "What makes you think you can?" She hooked her arm around Evan's and lit a cigarette in the non-smoking banquet hall, saying, "Just because this company belongs to my boyfriend, Evan." I nodded and called the richest man in Arland. The call was answered instantly. "Mr. Wilson, I've been fired. I can't take on your ten-billion-dollar movie project," I said calmly./1/114491/coverorgin.jpg?v=b69781aef13f8e13e7485da7a9aa210a&imageMogr2/format/webp)
She Found Freedom, Not His Love
Eda Roman clutched her father's diagnostic report, its sharp edge cutting her finger. His cancer had mutated, standard treatment failed, and a fifty thousand dollar deposit for experimental therapy was due by midnight. Fail to pay, and his hospital bed would be cleared. Wife to Axel Foley, a multi-billion dollar CEO, Eda faced an impossible chasm. Her family trust, controlled by Keri Lane, offered a meager three hundred dollars. An emergency fund request met a forty-eight-hour review—a death sentence. Keri's assistant denied expedite and blocked calls. Desperate, Eda called Axel, but his assistant dismissed her with lies, Axel's laughter echoing. Humiliation and betrayal ignited cold fury. Wife to Seattle's wealthiest, yet begging on a hospital floor? Axel's indifference and Keri's games showed her: her father's life couldn't be left in their hands. Wiping tears, the pleading girl vanished; her survival instinct roared. Red lipstick her war paint, Eda Roman marched to Foley Group Headquarters, ready to reclaim what was hers./0/82265/coverorgin.jpg?v=af99e973cd8605799f384af978ff1808&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Breaking Free From Her Chains
Ethan Miller stared at divorce papers, trapped in a marriage that promised everything but delivered only a polite, desolate void. For years, his wife, Ava Harrison, remained an untouchable enigma, her dedication to charity work a fortress against intimacy. Then, a soft sigh from her private "sanctuary" – the music room – shattered the façade. Ethan found Ava enraptured, whispering Liam's name, clutching a silver toy, surrounded by childhood photos of her adopted brother, exposing a dark, incestuous truth. This wasn't just bizarre; it explained his unconsummated marriage, his role as a convenient "prop." Later, Liam, her enabler, attacked Ethan with a broken bottle, then brutally beat him, while Ava prioritized her brother and the family name, dismissing Ethan's agony as "accidents." Why was he a fool, discarded and abused, while his wife protected a monster? His love, once a perfect score, had been systematically, ruthlessly chipped away by betrayals, leaving only raw, unbearable emptiness. With nothing left, Ethan signed the papers, packed his bag, and walked out of the gilded cage, finally free. He chose a new life in London, leaving behind the chilling memory of Ava' s last, desperate text: "Liam needs you. Come back."/1/103384/coverorgin.jpg?v=d91eb329a375c13cbcbcc2d434d8e6cd&imageMogr2/format/webp)
My Husband's Deadly Double Life
I was the top financial analyst on the network, my predictions legendary. But one morning, my husband, Augustus, and his intern mistress, Baylee, orchestrated a live-on-air sabotage that vaporized my career. I was forced onto a leave of absence, only to be called back to prep Baylee-the very woman replacing me. That night, an anonymous text arrived. It was an audio file from years ago: Baylee' s panicked voice confessing to a hit-and-run, and Augustus' s calm voice promising to cover it up. The victim was my mother. The accident that left her crippled wasn't an accident at all. My husband, the man who comforted me, had protected her attacker all along. He thought he had broken me. But as I listened to their lies, I knew my old life was over. I picked up the phone and called my old mentor. "Eliot," I said, my voice shaking with rage. "I'm ready to sue. I'm taking everything from them."/1/102289/coverorgin.jpg?v=93f582bb6dbb65cb172474e8e762b502&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Love That Transcends Even Death
On my twenty-fifth birthday, I discovered my boyfriend of seven years and my best friend were having an affair. They gave me matching necklaces-a sea and a mountain-the very set I had picked out for him as a symbol of our love. It was their silent confession, a confirmation of the betrayal I had just witnessed. Later that night, my best friend was attacked. I rushed to her side, only to be met with my boyfriend's fury. He accused me of being selfish and late, then broke up with me, leaving me alone and bleeding in the snow after I coughed up blood from my terminal lung cancer. He didn't see the blood. He didn't know I was dying. He just saw me as an inconvenience. My world shattered. I had been hiding my illness to spare them pain, only to find they were building their happiness on my quiet suffering. I received his call from the hospital, not out of concern for me, but because he had just discovered the truth about my cancer. He was too late. I was already on a plane to Oregon, having sent my final message: "I love you both. Always. Find your happiness. I'll be okay." This was my last gift to them-their freedom, bought with my life./0/82578/coverorgin.jpg?v=370a23aab51c3e3c36c2a807439a3ac3&imageMogr2/format/webp)
A Second Chance At Tragedy
It began innocently enough. My high school roommate, Jessica, needed a place to stay during a break, just as my older brother, David, was prepping for his SATs, his ticket to an Ivy League dream. My trusting parents welcomed her into our home. Then, the nightmare struck. A scream in the night. Jessica, teary-eyed, accused David of something unspeakable-a monstrous, venomous lie. That lie didn' t just stick; it decimated us. David's scores plunged, his dreams shattered, expelled from school. He found a dead-end job, then an accident claimed his life. Our parents, heartbroken, soon followed. And Jessica? She remained, a parasite feeding on our grief, playing the survivor while I simmered with impotent rage until everything ended in fire. The memory was a raw, bleeding wound-the profound injustice, the agony of watching my family crumble from a fabrication. Why did it have to end like that? Why couldn't I have seen through her sweet facade sooner? But then, I gasped awake, sunlight streaming through my familiar window. The calendar showed the exact date. Downstairs, I heard her voice: Jessica' s. I was back. This wasn't a dream. This was a second chance, a fierce, burning clarity-a chance to save David, my parents, and myself, and to dismantle Jessica' s wicked game, piece by deceitful piece./0/85394/coverorgin.jpg?v=7947e110daf88cbf003b4545798884a8&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Reborn From Betrayal: A Mother's Vow
The memory was a ghost that never left me, a film of a life I had already lived and lost. In that other life, the end was cold and dark: my son, Tom, gave up, worn down by his father Mark' s betrayal and the world turning its back on us. Mark, my husband, the man I' d sacrificed everything for, watched as his wealthy new lover, Jessica, and her son, Kevin, systematically destroyed Tom' s future, stealing his scholarship and publicly humiliating him. When Tom tragically left me alone in a world that had turned its back, Mark was at a gala, accepting an award, uncaring. I drowned in despair, until I woke up, not dead, not grieving, but back. Back to the hospital breakroom, the cold coffee, the smell of cafeteria chili. The day it all started to unravel. This was my chance, a chance I didn' t ask for but would not waste. I tore off my badge, left my hospital shift, and ran ten blocks, the rage fueling my every step. I burst into the high school, just as Mark, the socialite, and her smug son stood there, my Tom nowhere in sight. "Where is my son?" I demanded, my voice raw, ready to set their perfect world on fire. Mark denied everything, calling me "unwell," making me look like the crazy ex-wife. Then, Kevin pushed Tom, and Mark, in front of everyone, coddled Kevin, while my boy bled. He even tried to send us away, telling me to pack our things and disappear. But the final straw was Kevin, burning Tom' s precious family quilt, and Mark, instead of punishing him, blamed me. My son, seeing his father' s utter disregard, declared, "You' re not my father!" And Mark, in a fit of rage, raised his hand to strike Tom. I threw myself in front of my son, taking the brutal slap that echoed the pain of a lifetime of betrayal. I wouldn' t let my son get tired. I would fight. The next morning, I took Tom' s hand, and we marched directly into the lion' s den-General Miller' s office at Fort Connolly Army Base. I knelt, a humiliated-yet-determined mother, begging for help. "My husband is destroying our lives, and we have nowhere else to turn. Please, just give us five minutes of your time." This time, justice would not be denied./0/86802/coverorgin.jpg?v=346b8233b5768b0c6abc8385c8c2e40c&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Fake Death Plot
The ninety-ninth time I tried to kill myself, I was sent to the hospital. For seven long years, I had lived in a fog of grief, believing my husband, Ethan, had died in a fiery car crash. But then, in that sterile white room, I saw him. Ethan. Alive, vibrant, and kissing Olivia Hayes, his former sister-in-law, who cradled a prominent baby bump. Their child. In that instant, the truth crashed down on me. There was no crash, no death. He had abandoned me to elope with Olivia, living a happy life while I wasted away: my hair turning gray, my wrist scarred with 300 marks for every missed month, while he cried with joy over her pregnancy. My world went black. When I came to, I was back in time, seven days before our first wedding anniversary. Ethan stood before me, his eyes filled with intoxicating adoration, murmuring sweet words. Yet, the image of him kissing Olivia, the name "Olivia Hayes" flashing on his phone, burned in my mind. He left me to check on her, claiming she was unwell, while I knew the truth. I was blindsided by my trust. I thought of what he put me through, what he planned to do to me. The betrayal felt like a gaping wound. I looked at him, then called my brother, David. "I want to come live with you abroad," I said, my voice cold. "And David, could you please help me arrange something? I need a body. A fake one. I want to give it to Ethan on our wedding anniversary. Seven days from now."/0/85707/coverorgin.jpg?v=ae4d19bfb1bbd9235ca0b91e418f7d00&imageMogr2/format/webp)
His Best Friend, His Betrayal
The drive to my best friend Mark' s father' s 60th birthday party felt good, the kind of easy trip you take to see family. My wife, Sarah, was supposed to be in London for a work conference, nursing a sprained ankle. But when I stepped inside, my eyes scanned the crowd, and there she was, kneeling in the center of the living room. She was participating in a formal tea ceremony, dressed in a beautiful silk dress I' d never seen. "What a good, respectful daughter-in-law!" Mark' s aunt boomed, praising her. "Mark, you found a real treasure." My heart hammered against my ribs as I saw her, my wife, here, being celebrated as his wife. The whiskey bottle in my hand suddenly felt heavy and cold. Sarah' s eyes locked with mine across the room, her polite smile vanishing, replaced by pure panic. She rushed towards me, pulling me into a quiet hallway. "Liam, what are you doing here?" she hissed, her voice frantic. "Last I heard, you were in London with a sprained ankle," I retorted, my voice dangerously low. She claimed Mark' s father had terminal cancer, and she was just "helping" fulfill his dying wish to see Mark settled. "You' ll lend me your wife, right? We' re best friends, you wouldn' t mind, would you?" Mark asked, joining us, his tone infuriatingly casual. The sheer audacity, the betrayal, stole my breath. My wife, my best friend. "A few days?" I asked, my voice dripping with sarcasm. "Is that all? I guess his dying wish doesn' t include seeing his grandkids, then. Or do you think he' ll live long enough for you two to pop one out?" The smile vanished from Mark' s face, and Sarah' s eyes widened in horror. The casual charade was over. The real party was just beginning./1/100725/coverorgin.jpg?v=400a27dc54926dcfd576d031b4ca6983&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Helene Richard: The Truth Unveiled
For ten years, I was the perfect wife to Wall Street heir Garrett Wise. I was the polished GNN anchor who cleaned up his scandals, all while his family paid for my mother's mounting medical bills. But when a photo of him draped over my on-air rival went viral, I finally had enough and served him divorce papers. His revenge was brutal. He had me fired, framed for taking bribes, and publicly humiliated on my own network. Even my own son was turned against me, calling me a "bad mommy" after his grandmother and Garrett's mistress poisoned his mind. Trapped in our penthouse, Garrett offered me a disgusting deal to stay as his quiet, compensated wife while his mistress, Daphne, faked a pregnancy to secure her place. That's when I discovered the cruelest irony: I was actually pregnant with his child. As he lunged at me, his hands reaching for my throat, I grabbed the nearest weapon. "You did this," I whispered, looking him dead in the eye. Then I plunged the silver letter opener into my own stomach, sacrificing our unborn child to ensure he would carry the guilt, and I would finally be free./1/100256/coverorgin.jpg?v=e0df1e621e228859644f598a44cf397d&imageMogr2/format/webp)
From Beloved To Battered: Her Reckoning
My husband, Chase, was having an affair. But when I confronted him, he didn't just admit it-he told me he was tired of my ambition and that his new lover, a diner waitress, was everything I wasn't: simple and undemanding. Then he pushed me down the stairs. The fall cost me our unborn child. As I lay broken in the hospital, his mistress, Joy, visited. Under the guise of care, she forced a foul soup down my throat, whispering it was the "blood and flesh" of my dead baby. When I fought back, Chase walked in, saw Joy on the floor, and ordered his bodyguards to beat me for hurting her. One hundred slaps. Each one chipping away at the nine years of love I had for him. He had promised to be my anchor, but he had become the storm that wrecked me. Why did the man who once cherished my brilliance now despise it? Why did he protect the monster who tormented me while destroying me and our child? Lying on the cold hospital floor, bruised and bleeding, I finally understood. The love was dead. And with it, the woman who had ever loved him. I picked up my phone and made a call. It was time to burn it all down./1/114492/coverorgin.jpg?v=55a431f2a8591bc33e1851785559d9f0&imageMogr2/format/webp)
