Modern Books for Women
Bestsellers Ongoing Completed
/1/116884/coverorgin.jpg?v=35ea6ef469caf6397468b47beff507a9&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Reborn Heiress: Escaping The Cheating Fiancé
In her past life, Christabel was locked in an abandoned medical facility, her fingers crushed and her vision blurred with her own blood. Her stepsister, Hilary, stood over her in a pristine white Chanel suit, smiling as she delivered the final blow. "Derrick's plane went down. No survivors." Hilary whispered the words with fake pity, throwing a stack of newspapers directly at Christabel's face. The bold headlines screamed about the Sanders family's absolute bankruptcy and liquidation. Christabel's parents and brother had already died trying to protect her. Now, Hilary was sealing her inside this rusted, pitch-black room to rot away completely. Christabel couldn't even move her dead limbs to fight back. She could only wait for her heartbeat to stop, drowned in absolute, crushing helplessness. She hated herself for being so blind, for letting Hilary and her fiancé Jaylon manipulate her, destroy her family, and steal everything she ever loved. In her final agonizing second, a vicious curse echoed in her mind. She swore that if she had another chance, she would drag them all to hell. Then, a violent sensation of falling ripped through her, and her eyes snapped open. Blinding light from a crystal chandelier stabbed her eyes, and an unnatural, burning heat rushed through her veins. She had been reborn. She was back at eighteen, in the exact hotel room where Hilary and Jaylon had plotted to drug her and ruin her reputation forever. This time, the show was hers to direct./1/119700/coverorgin.jpg?v=0a8ce45af482e11474920a3def357baa&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Kicked Out: Marrying The Secret Billionaire
I placed the 12-week ultrasound report on the coffee table, hoping for a shred of support from my family. Instead, my mother snatched my wallet, stole my last hundred dollars, and kicked me out into a freezing thunderstorm. "There's no place for you or your bastard child here. Get out!" With nowhere to go, I tracked down the baby's father—a hotel concierge named Christopher. To my shock, he proposed a cold, seven-month marriage of convenience to get his family off his back. I signed the contract, trading my freedom for a safe roof over my baby's head. But the nightmare didn't end. My mother tracked down my new workplace, extorted my entire life savings, and caused a massive public scene. When Christopher found out, his eyes turned to ice. He didn't offer comfort. Instead, he delivered a devastating ultimatum. "If you cannot demonstrate that you are capable of protecting this child from your family, I will seek sole custody." I was stripped of everything, terrified, and suffocating. Why was my own mother a bloodsucking monster? And how could I fight a cold, calculating stranger who had the power to take my baby away from me in an instant? Looking at my tear-streaked face in the mirror, I wiped my eyes. I was done being a weak, frightened girl. For my baby, I was going to become a fortress./0/48991/coverorgin.jpg?v=89ccd3d7eab30578a6ce9f650b0da4dd&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Reawaken Expired Love
Alicia was a miserable wife for three years. All she got from her so-called husband was indifference. A chance union sparked hope within her that Erick had finally changed his mind. Sadly, his true intentions were to reconcile with his lost love. Both love and patience had an expiry date. Alicia threw divorce papers in his face. Surprisingly, instead of signing them immediately, Erick pressed her against a wall. "You want to divorce me? Not gonna happen!" Regardless of his unwillingness, Alicia decided to turn her life around. She began climbing up the ladder of success and soon attracted many admirers. When they bumped into each other one day, Alicia was in the company of some kids. Something drove him to act out of character. "Let me be their father," he offered. Alicia rolled her eyes at him. "No need, Mr. Ellis."/1/104683/coverorgin.jpg?v=a9ce19c3d20a93ca95caf7c89ba159a0&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Surgeon's Vow: Healing My Billionaire Husband
I sat in the gray, airless room of the New York State Department of Corrections, my knuckles white as the Warden delivered the news. "Parole denied." My father, Howard Sterling, had forged new evidence of financial crimes to keep me behind bars. He walked into the room, smelling of expensive cologne, and tossed a black folder onto the steel table. It was a marriage contract for Lucas Kensington, a billionaire currently lying in a vegetative state in the ICU. "Sign it. You walk out today." I laughed at the idea of being sold to a "corpse" until Howard slid a grainy photo toward me. It showed a toddler with a crescent-moon birthmark—the son Howard told me had died in an incubator five years ago. He smiled and told me the boy's safety depended entirely on my cooperation. I was thrust into the Kensington estate, where the family treated me like a "drowned rat." They dressed me in mothball-scented rags and mocked my status, unaware that I was monitoring their every move. I watched the cousin, Julian, openly waiting for Lucas to die to inherit the empire, while the doctors prepared to sign the death certificate. I didn't understand why my father would lie about my son’s death for years, or what kind of monsters would use a child as a bargaining chip. The injustice of it burned in my chest as I realized I was just a pawn in a game of old money and blood. As the monitors began to flatline and the family started to celebrate their inheritance, I locked the door and reached into the hem of my dress. I pulled out the sharpened silver wires I’d fashioned in the prison workshop. They thought they bought a submissive convict, but they actually invited "The Saint"—the world’s most dangerous underground surgeon—into their home. "Wake up, Lucas. You owe me a life." I wasn't there to be a bride; I was there to wake the dead and burn their empire to the ground./1/115008/coverorgin.jpg?v=096f067bcc9e871ae684c8cfdaf7acef&imageMogr2/format/webp)
His Obsession, Her Perfect Calculated Escape
When Alma's father stood in front of the bulldozers to protest, the energy company's thugs beat him half to death in the mud. Instead of arresting the attackers, the police handcuffed her bleeding father and threw him into a cruiser. "Stay back, kid," the officer barked, shoving Alma away. Her father was denied bail and framed for assaulting an officer. The corrupt mayor just smiled and told her not to cause a scene. Meanwhile, the company mailed her weeping mother a severance check that barely covered a month of groceries. Alma was forced to watch her family be completely destroyed by men with money and power. Kneeling in the cold dirt where her father's blood had spilled, she didn't shed a single tear. The panic in her chest died, replaced by a cold, absolute hatred. She realized that crying wouldn't do anything. In this world, justice didn't exist for the weak. Years later, Alma stepped onto a prestigious Ivy League campus, her cheap backpack slung over her shoulder. She was surrounded by the arrogant children of the very executives who ruined her life. She lowered her head, hiding her dead eyes, and put on the perfect mask of a timid, helpless charity case. Undergrad was just a training ground, and these elite kids were just her practice dummies. The hunt was officially on./1/117511/coverorgin.jpg?v=19d19b3c7dbeb18380d779a292b2057f&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Dead Ex-Wife Returns With Twins
I was in premature labor with twins when my husband's mistress bypassed our penthouse security during a blizzard. Instead of calling for help, she tossed a document at me, proving my husband had just signed away my entire trust fund. Then, she played an audio recording of my mother's oncologist confessing that her death wasn't an illness, but a paid assassination orchestrated by this very woman. "Only one of us gets to be the lady of the estate." I collapsed in a pool of my own blood, begging her to save my babies, but she just watched the snow and timed how long it would take for me to bleed out. After my heart stopped on the operating table, she bribed the surgeon to falsify the medical records, declaring me and one of my newborn sons dead. She stole my healthy baby boy right out of the incubator to secure her status in high society. I survived that freezing night, losing my family and my identity, wondering how the man who claimed to love me could let a monster destroy my life and steal my child. Five years later, I stepped out of the airport with my surviving son, no longer the vulnerable girl they left for dead. I hacked into my husband's private server, drained ten million dollars from his offshore accounts, and wiped my tracks clean. The war to reclaim my stolen child had officially begun./1/101711/coverorgin.jpg?v=a3f3a7d3b2450c89768086ff940093ea&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Loving Mr CEO
Aida's life is already complicated. A controlling boyfriend. A job that drains her. A heart tired of giving more than it gets. So the last thing she expects is Mike-the quiet, handsome "new trainee" who walks into the office with a mysterious calm and an unexpected kindness. He's humble. Soft-spoken. Nothing like the men she's used to. But something about him feels... different. Dangerous. Safe. All at once. As their friendship blooms, jealous eyes begin to watch. Whispers spread. Fake friends interfere. And even Mike's family stands against them. Two hearts drawn to each other. One relationship already falling apart. Secrets that can destroy everything. In a company filled with gossip, power, and hidden agendas, Aida and Mike must decide- is this friendship worth the risk? Or will the growing tension ruin them before they even begin?/1/113757/coverorgin.jpg?v=2d03781bfaaf6e7926e9ddefe05a7339&imageMogr2/format/webp)
My Stranger Husband Is A Hidden Zillionaire
To escape my abusive adoptive mother selling me to a loan shark for $50,000, I rushed to City Hall to marry a blind date. In a blind panic, I grabbed the wrong man. He was Julian Cardenas IV, a billionaire CEO who desperately needed a fake wife to dodge a corporate arranged marriage. We signed the papers on the spot. He became my legal shield. He moved me into his pristine penthouse and secretly protected me from my family's violent threats. When I broke down crying in the freezing cold, he quietly left me hot cocoa. For the first time in my life, I felt safe. But then, Julian overheard me complaining to my sister about my constantly breaking-down car, groaning that I had to "get rid of this baby four times." He thought I meant abortions. The man who was slowly melting my frozen heart instantly turned to ice. He threw away the dinner he had specially bought for me, his eyes filled with absolute disgust and blinding rage. I was left entirely confused and terrified. Why did my savior suddenly look at me like I was the most repulsive thing in the world? What had I done to deserve this sudden cruelty? I thought this fake marriage was my ticket out of hell. I didn't realize I had just locked myself in a cage with a furious, ruthless CEO who now wanted to destroy me./1/115165/coverorgin.jpg?v=6c8dd8921e9cb59ddd76d98cc645e7d0&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Too Late For Regret: My Ex-Husband's Downfall
Colette Bentley gripped her terminal leukemia diagnosis, her world shattering. Her only comfort was that her husband, Edwardo, was the country's foremost hematologist. But when she called him, desperate for a lifeline, she didn't hear his reassuring voice. Instead, she heard the playful voice of her own sister, Cleo. "Edwardo, hurry up. The water's getting cold..." As Colette stood outside an exclusive club hours later, collapsing in a pool of her own blood, Edwardo was busy pressing Cleo against his car and gifting her diamonds. He ignored Colette's emergency calls, coldly texting back that he was too busy to be bothered. When Colette miraculously secured a single, priceless vial of an experimental drug to save her own life, Edwardo broke into her private safe and stole it. He fed her life-saving medicine to his mistress to treat a minor symptom, smiling proudly as he claimed he knew Colette wanted to help. "I confirmed it was the VX-7 compound and gave it to Cleo. The effect was miraculous." He had completely erased her existence, casually sentencing his own wife to death to play the hero for the woman who ruined her marriage. How could a doctor who swore to save lives be so monstrous? But Colette wasn't going to die quietly in the shadows. She slapped the smug smile off his face, extorted a hundred-million-dollar divorce settlement, and walked into a rival research institute. This time, she chose to live for herself./1/116573/coverorgin.jpg?v=e46a86e06f477c5c02fdc95fd4e5962b&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Unwanted Wife's Spectacular Secret Comeback
On her second wedding anniversary, Althea waited in their luxury penthouse with a positive pregnancy test hidden in her pocket. But her husband, Darren, didn't come home to celebrate. He brought back Caroline-the woman he constantly protected-and her two twin boys. Caroline immediately played the helpless victim, taking Althea's designated seat at the dining table. When Caroline's spoiled son intentionally bumped hard into Althea's leg, Darren didn't even care. When the rich smell of food triggered Althea's severe morning sickness and she dry-heaved over the sink, Darren slammed his silverware down in disgust. "Stop using this childish fake sickness to get sympathy!" He glared at Althea, ordering her to show basic tolerance to Caroline or go back to her room. Althea stood frozen, her heart aching as she watched her husband patiently cut steak for another woman's child like a real family. Her two-year marriage was a complete joke. Why should she stay and be humiliated when he clearly didn't love her? She reached into her apron, but she didn't take out the pregnancy test. Instead, she pulled out the divorce papers, slammed them onto the table, and walked out into the cold night. Two years later, when Darren was trapped in a storm and forced to beg for shelter at her remote trailer, he had no idea his ex-wife was actually the ruthless corporate mastermind about to destroy his empire./1/104684/coverorgin.jpg?v=9b23f2397793c2b8555a19b9627fe6b1&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Mated To My Ex's Ruthless Brother
At 3:12 AM, a call from the NYPD shattered the silence of my dorm. My childhood sweetheart and the city’s golden heir, Liam Sterling, was in custody and needed me to bail him out. I rushed to the precinct, trembling as I swiped my father’s emergency credit card for five thousand dollars, only to watch Liam walk out and head straight for another woman. He had landed in a cell because he’d started a brawl to protect Jade—a girl with pink hair and a jagged attitude—while I was just the "best friend" he called to clean up his mess. In the backseat of the cab I paid for, I watched the man I loved pull her into his lap, treating me like an invisible chauffeur. When I finally demanded the truth, he didn't apologize; he reminded me that our families were tied by a multi-million dollar merger and that I was "like a sister" to him. My own mother echoed his coldness, telling me to stop being dramatic because our family was secretly bankrupt and we needed the Sterling money to survive. I spent years being his "good girl," even recording a fake video for the press claiming he was a hero who fought to defend my honor. But the illusion shattered when I saw the photos of him with Jade on my birthday—the same night he told me he was working late to secure our future. "I love you, Zoe. Like I love my dog. You’re loyal, but you’re boring." I realized then that I wasn't his partner; I was his shield. He used the trauma of the day he "saved" my life to keep me in his debt, never realizing that the chains of gratitude had finally snapped. As the Sterling empire began to crumble under a sudden leak of scandals, I didn't run back to Liam. Instead, I looked at the encrypted message from his dangerous, outcast brother, Julian, who had been waiting in the shadows. He didn't just offer me a way out; he offered to buy my family's debt and claim me as the collateral./1/116104/coverorgin.jpg?v=0510ebf265bc997c3d74f7d7041756b1&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Too Late, CEO: Your Ex-Wife Is Gone
Arielle barely survived a terrifying plane crash. Trembling and soaked in rain, she rushed back to her penthouse, desperately needing her husband's embrace. But when she opened the heavy door, she found a pair of cheap pink stilettos in the foyer. Her billionaire husband, Julian, was intimately drinking bourbon with the new network intern on their living room sofa. Instead of asking if she was hurt, Julian glared at her wet clothes with disgust. "You are ruining the imported Persian rug. Your tardiness embarrassed me." Arielle soon discovered the horrifying truth. The airline had called Julian when her private jet was plunging toward the earth. He knew she was facing imminent death, but he chose to ignore it for a routine board meeting. Worse, he spent that very evening flirting with his mistress in their home. When Arielle confronted him, he threw a black Amex card at her to buy her silence. He even abused his power as CEO to replace her veteran prime-time anchor with the intern. Looking at the man who once promised to protect her above all else, Arielle felt a freezing numbness spread through her chest. How could the man she loved for seven years become a cold-blooded stranger who didn't even care if she lived or died? The last thread of her love completely snapped. Arielle threw his credit card into the trash, signed the divorce papers demanding sole custody of their son, and walked out of his empire for good./1/115009/coverorgin.jpg?v=c1f034fa26e6dab1c7f4d9654d182231&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Trapped By The Possessive Esports God
I was a Twitch streamer who got publicly humiliated by my toxic ex-boyfriend during a live broadcast. To save face, I blurted out a massive lie. I claimed that "Killer," the untouchable god of the esports world, was actively pursuing me. But just ten minutes after I panic-quit my stream, the doorbell rang, and the esports god himself was standing at my front door with a suitcase. "I'm the new roommate. I have nowhere else to go," he said, looking like a lost golden retriever hiding from crazy fans. He moved into my apartment, acting entirely sweet and helpless. He couldn't even put on a duvet cover, but he made me a perfect breakfast and gently cared for me when I got hurt. He looked so genuinely innocent that I felt sick with absolute guilt for using his name for internet clout. When my ex's fans organized a massive hate campaign against me, I aggressively tweeted back to protect my new roommate's honor, doubling down on my lie. But I didn't understand why he immediately liked my tweet, sending the entire internet into a total meltdown. I thought he was just a pure, naive gamer following his manager's PR advice to defuse the drama. I had no idea that behind his polite smile, he wasn't innocent at all. He was a ruthless, obsessive predator who had already manipulated his way into my home, and I had just locked myself in a cage with him./1/117356/coverorgin.jpg?v=0442ebb01fea6134b16ff71c10c609e2&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Too Late To Save Your Dying Wife
Corrie was diagnosed with stage four stomach cancer. The first thing she did was ask her billionaire husband for a divorce and her share of the assets to save her dying father. Instead of giving her the money, Clayton ruthlessly crushed her diamond wedding ring under his shoe in public. "Your father drove my sister to suicide, and now he deserves to die," he sneered, admitting he was the one who bankrupted her family's company. Desperate, Corrie swallowed her pride and begged her estranged, wealthy mother for help. But when she walked into the mansion, she was met with a devastating sight. Clayton and his mistress were there, holding a pair of twin boys. Her own mother was happily playing the role of grandmother to her husband's illegitimate children. While Corrie had been grieving the baby she lost alone in a cold hospital, her husband had been building a secret family, and her mother had helped them hide it. The double betrayal shattered her completely. Why did her husband marry her just to use her as a pawn for his sick revenge? Why did her own flesh and blood side with the man who was actively destroying her life? Saved from the freezing rain by a doctor friend, Corrie stared at the aggressive chemotherapy plan. She had wanted to just give up and let the cancer take her. But now, a cold fire ignited in her chest. "I'll do the treatment," she said, her voice like ice. She was going to survive, and she was going to make every single one of them pay./1/112663/coverorgin.jpg?v=7cb856c287e432df06697759c1f1960e&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Rising From Ashes: My Masked Runway Comeback
I sat in the emergency room corridor, pressing a soaked bandage against my heavily bleeding arm. I had texted my husband of three years, billionaire Efford Thornton, begging him to come. He did come, but he walked right past me as if I were a piece of furniture. When the doctor finally brought the last bag of O-negative blood in the city to save my life, Efford's assistant intercepted it. Efford coldly ordered the blood to be sent to the VIP wing for Aletha Chase. "Mrs. Chase is pregnant with the Thornton heir," he declared flatly. "The priority is non-negotiable." As I watched my life-saving blood being carried away, he handed me a divorce agreement and an NDA. If I dared to expose his affair, he would immediately cut off the funding for my grandmother's dementia care, leaving her to rot in a public ward. He then turned his back, leaving me to bleed out in the hallway. For three years, I had given up my career and my identity to be his perfect, compliant wife. I couldn't understand how the man who once looked at me like I was his whole world could now literally watch me die just to protect his mistress. But he forgot one thing. The submissive wife he married was just a ghost. I wiped the blood from my hands, dug out the leather half-mask I had hidden away years ago, and made a call. It was time for the legendary runway model "Phoenix" to rise from the ashes and burn his empire to the ground./1/117669/coverorgin.jpg?v=11bacd9c003cdbac7faa9a995d9ddbbe&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Too Late For Regret: His Ultimate Downfall
I spent hours preparing a perfect anniversary dinner for my billionaire husband, Damien Sterling. Instead of coming home, he appeared on a live broadcast, dropping $10 million on a diamond necklace for his first love, Isabel. Before I could process the public humiliation, the hospital called to tell me my grandmother, my only family, had died of a massive hemorrhage. The trigger was a visit from Isabel, who maliciously taunted her about our sham marriage and revealed Damien's company had wiped out her life savings. When I confronted them with a voice recording of Isabel's cruelty, Damien violently snatched the device and wiped the evidence to protect her. He even forced me to apologize when Isabel deliberately injured herself to frame me. I stared at him, completely disillusioned that he was blindly protecting a murderer who was actively selling his corporate secrets to his rivals. The last shred of my affection for him shattered into dust. Walking out of his manor, I calmly got into the sports car of his most ruthless enemy and made a deal. "I want to see Isabel Goodwin in a prison cell, and I want his empire to burn."/1/115010/coverorgin.jpg?v=7bbb3d317073feb3b29fc486601a809c&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Spoiled By The Ruthless Esports Captain
Kaitlynn's mother forced her to entertain Jorden, a cold, overbearing professional esports captain who she only remembered as an annoying, mud-eating brat. She despised him in real life, saving all her admiration for "Hex," the god-tier player in her favorite MMO who constantly spoiled her with thousand-dollar rare items. Trapped in Jorden's luxury car during a forced errand, Kaitlynn couldn't stand his arrogant attitude anymore. She proudly bragged about Hex, claiming her online master's mechanics were vastly superior to any so-called professional player. "He's the absolute ceiling," she declared defensively. "He's way better than you." Jorden just smirked, his dark eyes dismissing her entirely. "Sounds like a nerd living in his mom's basement." Kaitlynn was furious, ready to scream at him, until his work phone suddenly rang. Right in front of her, he casually commanded his team using an extremely rare, high-tier strategy exclusive to her game. Kaitlynn's mind completely short-circuited. Why would the captain of North America's biggest esports organization know Aethelgard's secret meta? And why did his commanding, ruthless voice suddenly sound exactly like the low, comforting chuckle that echoed in her headset every night? As Jorden's gaze dropped to the rare assassin class keychain resting on her lap, a wicked, knowing smile flashed across his face. The untouchable esports tyrant had just realized his rebellious real-life enemy was his deeply pampered in-game student, and her peaceful double life was about to end./1/117357/coverorgin.jpg?v=3f16a85c1dd041db037f54a1c91b4aae&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Marrying The Comatose Billionaire For Two Million
Ava worked three grueling jobs just to cover her grandmother's medical bills. The only bright spot in her exhausting life was her wealthy, loving boyfriend, Spencer. That was until a high-paying delivery order led her straight to his penthouse. Standing outside the ajar door, she heard his friends laughing. "It was just a hundred-dollar bet to see how fast the charity case would fall for me." Spencer's cruel chuckle shattered her world. After Ava dumped her delivery order of spaghetti and wine over him and his snobby friends, their retaliation was swift. They filed a fake complaint and got her fired from her only remaining job. That same night, the hospital called. Her grandmother was in acute heart failure, needing an emergency surgery that cost more money than Ava could ever imagine. Cornered, jobless, and watching her grandmother slip away, Ava had no choice but to dig through an alley dumpster. She frantically retrieved the bizarre contract she had thrown away yesterday: an offer from Spencer's billionaire grandfather to marry his comatose heir in exchange for two million dollars and her grandmother's life. She signed her life away to the Carlisle dynasty to save the only family she had left. But when her recovering grandmother eagerly asked to meet her new fiancé, the grandfather needed a stand-in. "You will pretend to be her loving fiancé, or you are cut off from this family forever." The man forced to stand by Ava's side and pretend to be desperately in love with her was Spencer./1/116575/coverorgin.jpg?v=f16489459db17245e686c524b91b13de&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Flash Marriage To My Fake Disabled Husband
I spent five years in a federal prison. The day I was released, my ex-fiancé's new lover threw a hundred-dollar bill into an icy puddle. "Wash the prison stench off before you crawl back to the gutters." But her mockery was the least of my problems. My adoptive family immediately cut off my dying mother's life support. They gave me a brutal ultimatum: forfeit my inheritance and marry a stranger within three days, or they would pull the plug at midnight. Desperate to pay the hospital bills, I accepted a dark web contract marriage with a bankrupt, paralyzed man. I moved into his rat-infested Brooklyn apartment. I pawned my only antique necklace to buy him warm clothes, cooked his meals, and even took a job as a maid to pay off his mounting debts. I thought we were just two broken people trying to survive at rock bottom. But I started noticing terrifying inconsistencies. Why did his scent exactly match the suffocating, powerful stranger who pinned me to a bed in a pitch-black hotel room just days ago? And why did my new employer's fortified Hamptons estate have military-grade thermal cameras hidden in the trees? I thought I was carefully hiding my past as a trained killer to protect a helpless cripple. I didn't know my "bankrupt" husband was actually the billionaire owner of that estate, sitting in his control room, watching my every move on the security cameras./1/116732/coverorgin.jpg?v=3a811fb817c8245da01e83de1796d01f&imageMogr2/format/webp)
