Modern Books for Women
Bestsellers Ongoing Completed
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My Heart's Last, Bitter Goodbye
The doctor told me I had weeks to live. But the real death sentence was seeing my fiancé's hand slip into my best friend's outside the hospital room. They thought I didn't see. They had already turned my little brother against me, the boy I raised. He called her "Mom" now. At their engagement party, held in my house and paid for with my money, he looked me in the eye. "I hate you!" My own family praised her for being a "natural mother," while the world celebrated their love story. They saw a weak, dying woman, too broken to fight back. They thought they had won. So I gave them everything they wanted-my company, my fortune, my blessing. But I also left behind one final gift, a dead woman's last words. When I die, they will inherit my empire, but they will be forever branded by a legacy of eternal shame./1/102478/coverorgin.jpg?v=056347e7306e8c076d5ad47813032d19&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Just A Substitute: The Wife He Failed
At the family dinner, the waiter stumbled, sending a tray of boiling onion soup flying toward the table. My husband, Marcus, moved instantly. But not for me. He threw his body over my cousin Chloe, shielding her completely in his arms. I was left exposed. The scalding liquid hit my chest and arm, burning my skin instantly. While I screamed in agony on the floor, Marcus was frantically checking Chloe for scratches, whispering, "Thank God it missed you. You are more important than her. Always." In the hospital, he handed me a check for fifty thousand dollars. "It was an instinct," he said, avoiding my eyes. "Don't make a scene." He didn't notice my hollow expression. He didn't ask why the doctors were looking at him with pity. And he certainly didn't know that the shock and trauma had caused me to miscarry our six-week-old baby. For four years, I had been his perfect doll. I dressed like Chloe, painted like Chloe, and waited for him to love me. I thought I was his wife. I didn't realize I was just a placeholder until he sacrificed our child to save his true love from a splash of soup. When he left to comfort Chloe again, I pulled the IV from my arm. I placed the signed divorce papers on the bedside table. Underneath them, I left the medical report confirming the miscarriage of his child. Then, I vanished./1/103127/coverorgin.jpg?v=1bd2f420829df6682fdcab3e62491a4a&imageMogr2/format/webp)
A Scientist's Revenge: New Life
I removed an intern from an award nomination for stealing my dead sister's research. My husband, Craig, was furious. He chose to defend her, not me. His rage turned violent. He destroyed my life's work-a cure for Alzheimer's-then shoved me so hard I miscarried our child. He called me "dramatic" as I bled on the floor. Then he locked me in our home, a prisoner, forcing me to sign over my patents to his mistress, the woman who drove my sister to suicide. He thought he had broken me, that I was his to control. But when he tried to humiliate me in the most depraved way imaginable, I saw my chance. I threw myself from a second-story window. As I lay broken on the ground, watching him rush to his mistress's side, I made a vow. My revenge was just beginning./1/114483/coverorgin.jpg?v=d6bb14f08cc2903d5204686fbedd6b5b&imageMogr2/format/webp)
His Unwanted Wife, Now Unreachable Queen
Bailey, an invisible shadow to the powerful Douglas family, stood in the freezing rain, watching City Hall. For five long years, she’d been used to being forgotten. But today, her entire world shattered as her fiancé, Jameson, walked out with another woman, Haleigh, holding their fresh marriage certificates. Jameson scooped Haleigh into his arms, treating her like fragile glass, convinced she’d saved him from a burning car five years ago. He never knew it was Bailey who pulled him from the flames, nor that Haleigh's "sickness" had left Bailey with an ugly scar from donating bone marrow, making her a mere family blood bank. Watching them kiss, pure nausea rose from years of blame. Bailey later found a joyous celebration for Haleigh at the manor. Her wet arrival drew only cold annoyance; Jameson gave pitying instructions before all four men rushed to Haleigh’s side when she faked a cough. Haleigh, with a sweet smile, presented Bailey a "gift"—a velvet box. Forced to open it, a venomous Brown Recluse spider dropped onto Bailey's hand, sinking its fangs deep. As white-hot agony exploded and her vision blurred, Haleigh theatrically screamed, deliberately scraping her forehead. The men, blind with panic for Haleigh’s minor scratch, roared at Bailey, shoved her to the floor, and rushed Haleigh to the car. Left to die alone, struggling for breath as her body shut down, Bailey knew this was the end of playing their disgusting game. She had already activated her hidden trust fund, planning to buy a remote island and disappear forever./0/85932/coverorgin.jpg?v=61718712a2854f9c65a6e9cc7a7e711e&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Online Shame, Real-Life Victory
The lines of code glowed, green and satisfying. It was almost 11 PM, and I, Sarah, a data analyst by trade and a numbers person by nature, was finally done for the day. Then, a trending video popped up. My face, my building, and a headline: "Dedicated Employee or Work-Life Imbalance?" My stomach clenched. Comments flooded in, a digital deluge of pity and objectification. "Wow, she looks so plain." "Probably single. A guy could just walk up to her and she'd probably be grateful." It was disgusting. I felt watched, assessed, categorized by strangers. Unsafe. My brothers were on their way, a familiar comfort. But then, he walked in. Chad. A self-proclaimed "Good Samaritan" challenge participant, selfie stick in hand, beaming that too-perfect smile. He wanted me to be his content. I refused, but he ignored it, flicking my nose with a condescending playfulness. "A pretty girl like you shouldn't be frowning." Rage exploded inside me. I stood, demandmg he leave. With a dramatic sigh, he walked away, still filming. My phone, my lifeline, flickered and died. Just as relief washed over me, the glass doors slid open again. Chad was back. And he had a huge bouquet of roses. A sickly-sweet smell. Dizziness. He was trying to drug me. I fought, screamed, and pepper-sprayed him. But the sedative was working. I collapsed, only to see him standing there again when the elevator doors chimed open. He'd circled back. Then the security guard, Tom, appeared. Chad, with chilling precision, recited my personal details, painting me as a dramatic girlfriend in a "lover's quarrel." Tom bought it. The world went dark as I fell, not to the floor, but into Chad's arms. He whispered in my ear: "Your colleague Mark sends his regards. He didn't appreciate you reporting him to HR."/0/38238/coverorgin.jpg?v=cc8662f9e0fb5b4190de0b2817fd2afc&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Her Hidden Identities
Eliza Greer was abandoned by her mother, raised in an orphanage, and sold to the Burns family at 19. Even though she marries Mason Burns, the other people in the Burns family look down on her for her poor identity and want to try every way to bully her. Unexpectedly, they all failed. Eliza's hidden identities are gradually revealed in one incident after another, which astonishes everyone./1/108319/coverorgin.jpg?v=0b48feb83adf98944bb1ff278d618741&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Rise From The Ashes
When everything she built was reduced to ashes, she had only two choices surrender or rise. Left with nothing but scars and unanswered questions, a young woman must face a world that no longer waits for the broken. Betrayal, loss, and hardship try to bury her, but from the ruins, something stronger begins to form. This is not a story about luck. It is a story about resilience. About standing again when the fall should have ended everything. Rise From The Ashes is an inspiring journey of survival, growth, and quiet strength where every step forward is a victory earned./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./1/102479/coverorgin.jpg?v=38f898b0c8a286d284860653132eb988&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Just A Substitute: The Don's Lost Love
I returned to the manor after four years, handing Marcus Thorne an invitation to my wedding. He looked at me with cold eyes, his arm around his fiancée, Chloe—the woman I was molded to look like. But the real blow came at lunch. A waiter tripped, sending three mugs of scalding coffee flying toward us. Marcus didn't move to protect me. He lunged to grab his phone from the table because Chloe’s face was on the screen. The boiling liquid splashed across my chest, burning my skin instantly. While I screamed in agony, Marcus simply checked his notifications. "I have to go," he said, stepping over me as my fiancé, David, desperately poured ice water on my burns. "Chloe broke a nail. She's hysterical." He walked out of the restaurant without looking back, leaving me writhing in pain. At the hospital, the doctor dropped another bombshell: I was pregnant. Marcus didn't know. He didn't know I was carrying another man's child. Just like he didn't know about the baby of his I had lost three years ago—the one I miscarried while he ignored my calls to close a business deal. I wiped my tears and looked at David. "Get the plane ready," I whispered. "We leave tonight." When Marcus finally came looking for me, all he found was a medical report of the child he killed with his neglect, and a note saying I was gone forever./1/103128/coverorgin.jpg?v=36c362853d663ff9c6770bc9f0c01c05&imageMogr2/format/webp)
My Birthday, His Cruel Betrayal
On my 28th birthday, my superstar boyfriend, Jarrett, stood me up. He had to comfort his co-star, Kisha. A few hours later, I saw the paparazzi photo that ended our seven-year relationship. Jarrett was in a dimly lit bar, his arm wrapped around a tear-streaked Kisha, her head on his shoulder. The next morning, I confronted him. He insisted it was just "method acting." "She was just drunk," he said, running a hand through his hair. "Confessing her feelings for her character." He called me dramatic and paranoid for questioning him. He said I was throwing away seven years over a "stupid photo." It was the same gaslighting he'd used for years, wrapping his emotional infidelity in a pretty little "method acting" bow. But this time, I didn't cry. I felt a sudden, chilling calm. "I regret every second I wasted loving you," I told him. "We are over."/1/116106/coverorgin.jpg?v=c3dc49f810a868c258bd9e552d68d5bf&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Amnesiac Genius: Leaving Her Toxic Ex
I woke up in the hospital with severe amnesia, completely forgetting my boyfriend of three years, Ethan Cole. My best friend told me he was a toxic billionaire who treated me like a pathetic doormat, constantly humiliating me while obsessing over his ex-girlfriend. Realizing the memory loss was a gift, I blocked his number, walked away from his empire, and built my own successful baking brand from scratch. I even met Noah, a powerful man who truly cherished me. Ethan tried to buy my submission with a ten-million-dollar check, but I returned it unopened. Enraged, his new girlfriend stole my life's work and launched a vicious smear campaign to destroy my reputation. Worse, a sudden fainting spell revealed a devastating truth. I was eight weeks pregnant with Ethan's child from before the accident. When Ethan found out, he burst into my hospital room like a madman. He threw punches at Noah and roared at me. "She is my woman! And that is my child!" Looking at his furious, possessive face, I felt no love, only profound disgust. He thought he could treat me like disposable garbage, erase my identity, and then violently claim the one good thing that came from the wreckage. "Get out," I said calmly, pointing at the door. "My child has nothing to do with you."/1/105724/coverorgin.jpg?v=a4d01dc4d8f21e572d6e1f53dfe2ae6a&imageMogr2/format/webp)
My Love Was Gone
My husband, Rodger Hayes, was a renowned chief negotiator, famous for his integrity and firmness within the circle. When my son and I were kidnapped, with three hostages at the scene, the kidnappers agreed to release only one. Among the women and the boy, Rodger should have chosen to save the boy first. Yet, I heard him saying in Spanish fluently, "Release the woman in white." His first love, Jolene Chapman, was freed, while my son, Jacob Hayes, died from a gunfire. Later, Rodger explained the situation flatly. "The kidnappers chose to release Jolene." I cradled Jacob's ashes and smiled sadly. Rodger didn't know that I was fluent in Spanish, as I had been a special forces member. His lies crumbled before me. My phone vibrated, and I confirmed the encrypted message. "Falcon returns to base."/0/80417/coverorgin.jpg?v=80a6dffeda70604a6ad0c079f3319aa4&imageMogr2/format/webp)
After My Death, His Sight Returned
The October chill was nothing compared to the silence of my house as I returned from Alaska, desperate for my daughter, Sophia. "Sophia... there was an accident," Ethan, my husband, said coldly, instantly shattering my world. My little girl was gone, punished for breaking a trivial toy boat he cherished, a supposed memento from his childhood "savior," Chloe. I soon found Ethan’s laptop open, revealing Chloe Jennings, whose seductive purr confirmed the sickening fantasy that had overshadowed Sophia's life and our marriage. Even after Chloe burned Sophia's mementos and brutally assaulted me with a fire poker, Ethan defended her, offering "compensation" for my "inconvenience." His chilling pragmatism, viewing our dead daughter solely as a tool for his mistress’s agenda, unleashed a profound, bitter injustice within me. But after Chloe’s sadistic taunts and Ethan’s infuriating pleas for me to be "considerate" while she jabbed me with a syringe, mere escape wasn't enough. To truly shatter this monstrous delusion, I would stage my own death, vanishing completely and forcing Ethan to face a terrifying reality./1/104102/coverorgin.jpg?v=b9c24a1e065c22a470f0d090b5c0d2ce&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Secret Heiress Returns: Ruining My Cheating Husband
I stood in the middle of the gala I had spent months curating, waiting for the perfect moment to tell my husband, Gabe, that he was going to be a father. Instead, I watched him place a possessive hand on the stomach of my best friend, Harper. A reporter nearby whispered the truth that stopped my heart: Harper was pregnant with Gabe’s child, and they were announcing it after the IPO. When I confronted him, Gabe didn't apologize. He looked at me with cold calculation and told me a scandal would ruin the company. Then came the ultimatum that shattered my soul. He wanted me to hide in the countryside, give birth in secret, and hand my baby over to his mistress to raise. "Don't be selfish," he said. "She needs this baby more than you do." When I refused, his mother had me dragged away and locked in my bedroom. My windows were sealed, and my own parents sold me out, releasing a statement that I had suffered a mental breakdown. I was trapped, starving, and waiting for them to induce labor so they could steal my child. But they made one fatal mistake. To keep me "calm," Gabe handed me my phone for five minutes. I didn't call the police; the Sullivans owned them. I dialed a number I had found in my adoption papers years ago. A number belonging to Anthony Dean, the most dangerous man on the East Coast. "They are going to kill my baby," I whispered into the receiver. The voice on the other end was low, terrifying, and promised absolute violence. "I'm coming."/0/61275/coverorgin.jpg?v=4c15755b0dfdec9a69eec94c23840e24&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Wolf King's Life As An Olympian
Sure! Here’s the translation: --- I am a wolf from the north, but unexpectedly, I became a bench player who didn't make it to the Olympics. "They're crawling, why are they so slow?" Audience: "Did he install a motor? This speed is insane!" National sprint team coach: "Switch events, he's a good prospect!" After being eliminated, everyone was waiting for me to voluntarily leave the team. But in a friendly match, when I got on as a substitute, I ran like the wind and scored wildly. From then on, I soared to new heights and was promoted to team captain. Until the off-season when I was dragged into a reality show. Netizens: "Help! Please blur his voice and face, and his abs!" "Get away, hubby! I want to have your baby!" I retweeted and tagged the new TV queen, "Sorry, in our wolf clan, we practice lifelong monogamy." --- Let me know if you need anything else!/1/103129/coverorgin.jpg?v=7786a6e3202d08d8224e523000bcbb61&imageMogr2/format/webp)
From Humiliation To New York Queen
My rival' s lies got me expelled from USC. The fight with my parents that followed was our last; they died in a car crash that night, leaving me with crushing debt and my rebellious brother, Bennie. To save Bennie from jail time over a fight he didn't start, I took a humiliating job at a high-end nightclub, a place where my dignity was the price of admission. There, I was forced to kneel before my ex-fiancé, Demetri. He watched with cold indifference, now engaged to the very woman who destroyed my life. He was even the lawyer for the family Bennie had supposedly bullied, his voice a weapon as he publicly shamed me. He was my everything, yet he believed I was a monster. He stood by as my world crumbled, choosing to defend the woman who orchestrated my downfall. After the truth was finally exposed, he sacrificed everything for me, losing his career and fortune in a desperate attempt at redemption. But it was too late. I had already taken my brother and moved to New York, ready to build a new life and find new love, far from the man who shattered my old one./0/84311/coverorgin.jpg?v=20260106204057&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Deported Mistress, Destroyed Husband
I thought I' d solved my marriage crisis the way any woman from a powerful D.C. family would: I used my influence to get my husband' s mistress deported. My husband, Colonel Ethan Scott, even came home, promising repentance and a fresh start. Two days later, the private jet carrying my father, the former Secretary of State, and my brother, a rising star at the Department of Justice, went down over the Atlantic. As I stood grieving, the man I loved, the man I built, answered a call, casually ordering the disposal of my family' s bodies and discussing the tasteless drug he' d just forced on me – a sterilization agent. He had orchestrated it all. My world shattered as the monster I married carried me into our Georgetown home, convinced I was just another grieving wife. He then publicly humiliated me, having his mistress stage a fall and whipping me with his belt in front of a crowd, leaving me kneeling in the street like a dog. I couldn't fathom such pure evil, nor the depths of my own betrayal. But what he didn't know was about my father' s secret safe, and the blank presidential pardon inside. This wasn' t the end of me; it was the start of my war./1/114485/coverorgin.jpg?v=8f67c877f897f335540c355d85bedba8&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Truth He Never Knew
Corinna moved through a high-society gala, a powerful woman now commanding respect. Three years ago, the influential Rios family had cast her aside, viewing her as a liability. Now, after countless battles in a D.C. think tank, she wielded her newfound power with precision. As her armored SUV navigated rain-slicked Manhattan, a convoy of black Navigators abruptly cut it off. Graham Rios, the man who’d abandoned her, emerged from the storm like a madman, his political mask gone. He marched toward her car, screaming her name against the thunder. Corinna remained still, coolly sipping wine. She lowered her window just two inches, then slid a folder through, its sharp edge slicing his hand. The document revealed his business project was now controlled by his fiercest enemy, Lucian Lu. Later, she subtly revealed a brutal scar on her wrist, a wound Graham frantically tried to understand. The scar haunted Graham. Driven by panic, he forced his aide to confess a secret detour from three years ago: Corinna had visited a private maternity hospital. The revelation sent a high-pitched ringing through his ears, as he struggled to comprehend her visit. Consumed by guilt, Graham hacked the hospital's old files, finding a heavily encrypted medical record under Corinna's name. It stated: "Gestation: 12 weeks. Fetal heartbeat: critically weak. Recommendation: Immediate termination of pregnancy." The words crushed him. Corinna, watching him fall into her trap, knew he had swallowed the exact "truth" she needed./0/99236/coverorgin.jpg?v=999eb21ed9703e3b83ce40ffea84f7b6&imageMogr2/format/webp)
His Wife, The Secret Forensic Genius
My fiancé, Jameson Blair, married my twin sister today. For five years, I was a placeholder, a substitute for the woman he truly wanted, and I pretended not to know. Today, she came back with a story of terminal cancer and a dying wish to marry him. It was a perfect lie, and he chose to believe it, shattering my world with three simple words: "She's Haleigh." They left me on the sidewalk, an outcast from my own blood. My brothers, who once promised to protect me, celebrated the woman who broke me. They moved my things to a guest room, making space for their prodigal sister. That night, Haleigh gave me a "welcome home" gift—a box with a brown recluse spider inside. As the venom coursed through me, my family rushed to her side, calling my agony "a little spider bite." They left me convulsing on the floor. Later, they whipped me for a crime I didn't commit, hung me off a cliff, and left me for dead. My body is a roadmap of their love. Each scar, each broken bone, is a testament to their betrayal. They believed her lies, but their real crime was never truly seeing me. As I clung to that cliff, bleeding and broken, a single thought consumed me: Isabella Douglas died here tonight. Now, Isabella Hale would be born from the ashes./0/83014/coverorgin.jpg?v=35fd6ae85d161d6578335185a9eb409d&imageMogr2/format/webp)
