Modern Books for Women
Bestsellers Ongoing Completed
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The Runaway Wife's Billion Dollar Secret
I was the high-society "fixer" who traded my freedom to pay off my father’s debts, living in a gilded penthouse as the perfect wife to billionaire Flint Harrington. My world was a silent, expensive cage until a mistress sent me a photo of my husband’s cufflinks on a generic hotel carpet. "He's not coming home tonight," she messaged, attaching a picture of a positive pregnancy test. The timing was lethal. Flint’s grandmother had just promised a multi-billion dollar stake in the family empire to the first heir born. When I confronted him, Flint didn't apologize; instead, he claimed he’d had a secret vasectomy years ago and that the mistress was a fraud. The room spun as the truth hit me. I was actually pregnant, and if Flint believed he was sterile, he would use the adultery clause in our prenup to brand me a liar and strip me of everything. In this family, a baby wasn't a child—it was a corporate asset that the Harrington Trust would legally seize the moment I gave birth. I stood there, watching my husband argue about his virility while I carried the very secret that would make me a fugitive. I was trapped in a marriage where my own body was a crime scene, and my husband was the judge and executioner. Then, my hidden burner phone buzzed at 3 AM with a melody I thought was buried in a grave. "Jo? It's me. I'm alive." It was Caleb, my first love who had been declared dead in action years ago. Flint smashed the phone in a dark rage before I could answer, but it was too late. I grabbed my passport and walked out of the penthouse. I was done fixing things for the Harringtons. I was taking their heir, and I was going to find my ghost./1/116790/coverorgin.jpg?v=fd500df325e5f1051f0f51d863c242e3&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Flash Marriage To My Dead Husband
To pay for my sister's life-saving heart medication, I sold myself to the notoriously ruthless Roman family as a surrogate bride for their crippled, scarred heir. But the moment the one-million-dollar check cleared, my grandfather froze the medical account. He ordered me to steal the Roman Group's financial secrets, threatening to cut my sister's life support if I refused. I thought I was just a desperate girl trying to save her family, but my grandfather sneered and revealed the horrifying truth. I wasn't a bride; I was a sacrificial lamb. Twenty years ago, my family allegedly murdered the Roman patriarchs. My marriage was just the Romans' sick revenge plot to torture a Hayes bloodline. When I refused to be his spy, my own parents begged me to submit just to save their wealth. They watched coldly as my grandfather's guards dragged me toward the basement to break my spirit. I thrashed against their iron grips, suffocating in absolute despair. Why was I the one paying the price for a blood feud I knew nothing about? Was I just going to rot in the dark, a discarded pawn for both families? Before they could lock me away, the heavy mahogany doors exploded inward. The Roman estate's terrifying, breathtakingly handsome "executor"—the man who was supposed to be just a bodyguard—stepped through the dust with an armed tactical team. He pulled me behind his broad back, his dark eyes locking onto my grandfather with lethal amusement. "Who gave you the nerve to touch the Roman family's bride?"/0/20112/coverorgin.jpg?v=20210515103834&imageMogr2/format/webp)
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After Divorce:My arrogant ex-husband regrets
I sat alone at my long marble dining table, staring at a plate of cold truffle risotto. My husband, Jere, was late again, claiming he was stuck in a "war zone" of a board meeting for a multi-billion dollar merger. A single Instagram notification shattered the silence. It was a photo of a candlelit birthday dinner, featuring a man's hand resting on a white tablecloth. I recognized the slight veins, the jagged scar on the thumb, and the navy-faced Patek Philippe watch I had spent six months tracking down as a wedding gift. Jere wasn't in a boardroom; he was celebrating his ex-girlfriend Irina's birthday while texting me to "don't wait up." The next morning, I followed him to a VIP hospital wing. I watched through a cracked door as my husband cuddled a five-year-old boy and whispered tender promises to Irina. When he came home, he tried to buy my silence with a rare pink diamond bracelet, but I found the receipt: he had bought two identical ones. He had branded his wife and his mistress with matching jewelry, using hidden trackers to keep us both on a leash. When I confronted him, he didn't flinch. He coldly reminded me that he owned my father's massive debts and could send him to prison for insolvency fraud with one phone call. "Stop with the attitude, Deliah," he said. I felt like a ghost haunting my own life, trapped in a gilded cage by the man who paid for my mother's heart surgery while keeping a secret family across town. The humiliation peaked at our rescheduled anniversary dinner when Jere received a text, threw a stack of hundreds at me like I was a stranger, and abandoned me in a crowded restaurant to rush back to her. "Pay the bill," he commanded before walking out. Standing in the wreckage of a shattered crystal vase back at the penthouse, I realized my silence was the only thing keeping his empire standing. I pulled the crumpled divorce papers from my purse and signed my name with a steady hand. I wasn't just walking away; I was calling his sister to help me burn his perfect world to the ground./0/17922/coverorgin.jpg?v=20250115115640&imageMogr2/format/webp)
On Her Knees
The back of his hand hit my face for the third time but this slap really stung. The force of it rocked my head back but it wasn't enough to knock me off my feet. "Kneel," he commanded again, his voice thick with fury. I brought the back of one of my hands, that were bound in front of my body by rope, to wipe away the trickle of blood from the corner of my mouth. "I do not kneel," I whispered. I know what kind of things they made girls do on their knees. He would have to beat me senseless, kill me even to get me to do those things. The man's green eyes, the only thing I was able to clearly see in the darkness of this windowless room, glinted. He nodded, an unsettling evil grin stretching across his pale face. "Then you will stand." His fist hit me in the center of my chest and I hunched over, trying to breathe past the pain. Then he bent to whisper in my ear, grabbing a fistful of my dark curls, "But I promise you will wish you had gotten down on your knees." For Teryn Gardener, the truth behind human trafficking and the sex trade was far darker than she could have imagined; as if the institution wasn't terrible in and of itself. Behind the prostitutes are their pimps and behind it all are monsters beyond her wildest imaginations: bloodthirsty vampires who kidnap and enslave human girls in cheap brothels. They plan to use Teryn; to break her will but she refuses to cry. She refuses to bend the knee. She refuses to submit. She is intent on staying alive and getting out of there without having anything to do with the monsters she has come to despise. But what is she to do when her resistance leads her into the arms of one of the monsters? Will their senses of will clash or will Giovanni be the one to bring her to heel?/0/94107/coverorgin.jpg?v=20251213000918&imageMogr2/format/webp)
When The Unwanted Bride Becomes The Most Pampered Heiress
On her wedding day, Marissa learned she wasn't her parents' real daughter. Once the true heiress returned, her fiancé and adoptive parents cast her off to a rural backwater-and into an arranged marriage. Only the "village" turned out to be the nation's most exclusive enclave, and her birth family led an elite dynasty that spoiled her rotten. Garages held rare supercars; vaults opened to couture and jewels. School or family business, she chose her pace. Her "rustic" husband proved lethal, loyal, and absurdly protective. Her ex crawled back, yet she cut him off cold, "Stay the hell away from me."/1/106622/coverorgin.jpg?v=20260213193557&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Bitten By The Billionaire: My Darkest Night
I spent three weeks scrubbing carbonized grease off woks at the Jade Garden, hiding my elite tactical training behind raw knuckles and a practiced, submissive stutter. My mission was the only thing keeping me sane: finding my sister, Elena, who vanished into thin air after her phone last pinged near the city’s Restricted Sector. The breakthrough came when my boss, a bully named Uncle Wong, forced me to take a delivery to 101 Blackwood Drive—a high-security fortress where the drivers whispered that people went in and never came back right. It was a geographic match for Elena's last known location, but as I rode my battered scooter toward the massive steel gates, I realized I wasn't just investigating a lead; I was walking into a spider's web. The mansion was a monolith of cold concrete and military-grade surveillance, owned by Hugh Bradford, a billionaire who controlled the city’s elite like puppets. During my delivery, the magnetic locks hissed shut, the lights died, and I was plunged into absolute darkness with a predator who didn't want my money. Bradford pinned me against a stainless steel counter and did something unthinkable: he sank his teeth into my shoulder, using the rhythm of my frantic pulse to anchor his own fractured mind. I escaped with a bruised neck and a thousand-dollar "tip," feeling the crushing weight of his violation and the terrifying realization that my "clumsy immigrant" act hadn't fooled him for a second. I didn't understand why a man of his power would treat a delivery girl like a biological drug, or what he had done to the other girls who had vanished behind those black glass walls. My heart hammered against my ribs as I realized I was being hunted by a man who could buy and sell my life a thousand times over. "You're terrified," he had whispered in the dark, and for the first time in years, I wasn't faking it. Back in my apartment, I found a note tucked inside the cash that confirmed my worst fears: "For the inconvenience. See you Tuesday." He thinks he’s found a new toy to play with, but he just gave me the one thing I needed to find my sister—an invitation to go back inside and finish what I started./0/76899/coverorgin.jpg?v=20260526172104&imageMogr2/format/webp)
A second chance
"Where passion and deception collide. A web of secrets and a trail of seduction." Florence Mila Bennet has raised her little sister for the last six years, ever since their parents died. She would do anything for her sister, including sneaking into an exclusive party to kill the Don of Camorra Mob – the most powerful Mafia in the world. It is a long shot, but her sister's life depends on it, so she sneaks in, and instead of killing him, she finds herself married to him as a means to an end. Salvatore Conti is the Don of the Camorra Mob, he has so much power, influence, money and has enough experience. He never expected to get married, and definitely not to the woman who tried to kill him. One thing he was never trained for is a feisty wife who might be lying to him, but that is fair, because he is lying to her, too. Soon, their secrets catches up with them, and they have to face so much betrayal. Rivals of the Camorra Mob troupes in, and everything Salvatore family has ever worked for will be ruined. In a world of blood, pain and betrayal, can their love survive the secrets they keep from each other?/1/115539/coverorgin.jpg?v=38b5cb84b6a4f3da96d8694f88c62fd8&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Ruined Heiress Returns With His Heirs
Angelena was the proud heiress of the wealthy Beasley family, until a single drink shattered her life. Drugged by her jealous cousin and best friend, she stumbled into the wrong hotel suite and lost her innocence to a terrifying, authoritative stranger. The next morning, reporters burst through the door, their camera flashes blinding her. "Look at this mess! You were so desperate for money you'd sleep with some old man?" Her cousin orchestrated the entire scandal to steal her inheritance. Her grandmother publicly disowned her, stripped her of her trust fund, and banished her from New York in absolute disgrace. Seven months later, bleeding out in a freezing off-the-grid cabin, Angelena gave birth to quadruplets. But as she slipped into unconsciousness, a corrupt black-market midwife stole her two newborn sons and sold them into the blizzard, leaving Angelena with only her twin daughters. She clutched the single platinum cufflink the stranger had left behind, her heart shattered. She couldn't understand why her own blood relatives would destroy her so viciously, or who the monster was that took her innocence. But the agonizing betrayal ignited a white-hot, burning vow for revenge. Five years later, she returned to the city not as a broken outcast, but as a legendary underground doctor and a ruthless biotech CEO. And the very first billionaire she clashed with was Fabian Richmond, a paranoid tyrant who unknowingly possessed her stolen sons—and the exact same platinum crest./0/18079/coverorgin.jpg?v=20210813192710&imageMogr2/format/webp)
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Substitute Marriage: My Mysterious Husband Is A Magnate
Meagan took her sister's place and married someone without a penny to his name. Thinking that her husband was nothing more than a poor man, she figured she'd have to live the rest of her life humbly. Little did she know that her new husband, Zayden, was actually the most powerful and mysterious business magnate in the city. As soon as she heard a rumor about this, Meagan ran back to her cramped apartment rental and threw herself into the arms of her husband. "They all say you're the powerful Mr. Friedman. Is that true?" He stroked her hair gently. "We just look alike, that's all." Meagan stuck out her lip in a cute pout. "But that man insists that I'm his wife. It's so frustrating. Honey, beat him up for me, will you?" The following day, Mr. Friedman showed up at his company with bruises on his face. Everyone was dumbfounded. What on earth had happened to their CEO? He smiled. "My wife gave the order, so I had no choice but to obey."/1/106623/coverorgin.jpg?v=59411c46b2d782df12117e4f3202c05e&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Fallen Heiress's Debt to the Billionaire
I was once the princess of the Upper East Side, but now I’m just "debt wrapped in pretty skin." To keep my father alive in a federal penitentiary, I signed a contract I didn't fully understand. I thought it was about restoring my family's name, but producer Barnett Orr treated it like a bill of sale for my soul. Inside his limousine, the air smelled like gasoline and fear. Barnett didn't want a star; he wanted a victim. He bruised my jaw and ripped my vintage silk gown to shreds, laughing because he knew I couldn't fight back without signing my father's death warrant. "Don't forget who owns you, Felicity," he whispered. When he dragged me into Dewitt Knight’s penthouse party, I was a walking disaster. I huddled in Barnett’s oversized jacket, my lip bleeding and my spirit shattered. The elite crowd didn't see a victim; they saw a fallen girl selling herself for a role. A former rival poured red wine over me, and the room erupted in cruel laughter while Barnett told everyone he was just "testing my commitment." I looked up at the balcony, locking eyes with Dewitt Knight. He was a god in a bespoke suit, looking down at me with cold, lethal disgust. He didn't see the bruises or the desperation. He only saw a transaction he found beneath him. "So the rumors are true," he said, his voice cutting through the music. "The Aguilars really will do anything for money now. Even this." I was trapped between a monster who wanted to break me and a man who thought I was trash. No one cared that my father's life depended on my silence. When Barnett cornered me in a guest room later that night, his belt jingling like a death knell, I realized no one was coming to save a girl like me. I fought back with a crystal vase, shattering it against his shoulder, but I was drowning in my own terror. Just as Barnett lunged for my throat, the door was kicked off its hinges. Dewitt stood there, finally seeing the blood on the carpet and the map of purple bruises on my bare back. He chased the monster away, but I didn't feel safe. I locked the guest room door, wedged a chair under the handle, and slept with a silver letter opener pressed against my skin. When I crept into the kitchen at midnight and found him waiting in the shadows, I aimed the blade at his heart. "In this house, no one hurts you," he promised, his voice a low velvet rumble. But in a world where I had already been sold once, I knew that even protection came with a price I couldn't afford to pay./0/65637/coverorgin.jpg?v=20260526190119&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Sold to the Ruthless Mafia
Elena Hartley's life is shattered when her stepbrother, Marcus, sells her to mafia leader Victor Martinez to settle his debts. Trapped in a world of power and control, Elena is forced into a marriage with Victor, a man who sees her as a mere pawn in his ruthless game. As she grapples with her new reality, Elena forms an unlikely alliance with Alexander Cross, a powerful figure with his own agenda. Together, they set their sights on destabilizing Victor's empire, targeting key players like Jonah Sterling, an old ally of Victor's. As Elena navigates a treacherous world of deception, manipulation, and betrayal, she must decide how far she's willing to go to reclaim her freedom and take control of her destiny. The lines between enemy and ally blur, and Elena's struggle for survival becomes more complicated by the day./1/105372/coverorgin.jpg?v=20260205105115&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Invisible Ex-Wife's Rebellion: Now She Owns The Stage
Kendra spent five years as Jaycob's wife in name only, never able to melt his cold heart. Disheartened, she finally chose divorce, freeing him for another woman who seemed to be everything he wanted. Afterward, Kendra reignited her passion for dance and became a captivating star, admired by all, while Jaycob's regret grew so deep he would trade away fame and fortune just to win her back. But Kendra was no longer the woman who sacrificed her dreams for love. Now, at her side stood Kristopher-Jaycob's half-brother-who pulled her close and said with certainty, "She's no longer yours to claim."/0/38417/coverorgin.jpg?v=aca88561b93617c1fcc4a9fa7f5a6b87&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Morbid Fascination: You Mean the Whole World to Me
Freya sacrificed her happiness and youth just to save her sick mother's life and her family's hospital. She was forced to marry Brennan, a man who was in a three-month coma after having an accident. It was a contractual marriage, but it still bonded them together. Freya already resigned herself to never seeing her vegetative husband awake, but she was in for a surprise. On their wedding night, her vegetative husband suddenly stirred and opened his eyes. Freya almost had a heart attack! What did the future hold for them now that Brennan unexpectedly woke up? Were they going to stay married? Or would Brennan throw her out?/1/116323/coverorgin.jpg?v=4099b7791a4d297eca180f1649f7ea06&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Dangerous Office Romance With My Husband
Breanne was secretly married to Gabriel Baldwin, the icy and ruthless CEO of Aura Design. To the rest of the company, they were nothing more than bitter professional enemies. But during the most important executive board meeting of her career, Gabriel completely crossed the line. He ruthlessly tore apart her eco-friendly resort design, publicly rejecting weeks of her sleepless nights as financially unviable and forcing her to start from scratch. The public humiliation instantly made her a target. Vicious office rumors spread like wildfire, claiming Breanne had plagiarized her designs and was sleeping with partners to climb the corporate ladder. While she fought off toxic colleagues, Gabriel's private behavior grew dangerously possessive. When a wealthy client sent her roses, Gabriel cornered her in a stalled elevator, leaving a bruised bite mark on her neck. "You belong to me, Breanne. I don't share." Breanne was pushed to her absolute breaking point. She couldn't understand why the man who shared her bed was intentionally destroying her professional reputation, only to act like a jealous, suffocating dictator in private. Why was he torturing her like this? Just as she was ready to snap and walk away from it all, Gabriel summoned her to his top-floor office. Instead of another reprimand, he slid a highly classified, red-stamped file across his mahogany desk. He hadn't rejected her project to humiliate her-he had brutally killed the pitch to protect her from a career-ending corporate spy./1/115541/coverorgin.jpg?v=de97b05ee6a42824a94fc043726aff19&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Reborn From Flames: His Secret Triplets
Five years ago, Alisson Ford's adoptive family drugged her and offered her to a repulsive old investor to save their failing company. She escaped the trap, only to accidentally stumble into the bed of Jake Yates, the most terrifying and powerful billionaire in the city. Months later, while she was painfully giving birth to triplets in a freezing basement, her adoptive sister Bella tracked her down. Bella violently snatched Alisson's firstborn son to pass off as her own ticket into the Yates family. Then, Bella smiled as her men poured gasoline over the mattress and set the room on fire, leaving Alisson and her two remaining newborns to burn alive. Shielding her fragile babies with her own blistering skin in the roaring inferno, Alisson's despair turned into absolute, blood-soaked hatred. She couldn't fathom how the family she had trusted for years could steal her flesh and blood and condemn her to such a horrific death. Five years later, Alisson returns to the city as a powerful trauma specialist. She steps right into Jake and Bella's grand engagement banquet, watching coldly as her five-year-old daughter runs straight up to the untouchable billionaire and hugs his leg. "You are a bad daddy! You abandoned Mommy and us, and now you are going to marry an ugly old witch!"/1/112256/coverorgin.jpg?v=42e3ebbcd83725822db6e1bf03e7e9cb&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Jilted Heiress's Secret Revenge
My wedding day was supposed to be the merger of two dynasties, the day I was handed over on the steps of City Hall like a lamb to the slaughter. Instead of a ring, my fiancé tore our marriage contract to shreds in front of the world's press. He screamed that my family was a "cesspool of lies" and that I was "damaged goods" he refused to accept. The cameras swarmed me, their questions like daggers. Was I mentally unstable? Did I know about the family's secret debts? Had my father disinherited me? I played the part of the broken doll perfectly, my shoulders shaking as I shrank into my white dress. Everyone saw a victim, a poor little rich girl publicly shamed and discarded. They thought my father's cruel world had finally crushed me. They had no idea I wrote the script. As the limo pulled away from the chaos, my driver caught my reflection in the mirror. The trembling bride was gone. In her place was a woman whose eyes held something he couldn't name. It looked almost like satisfaction. And my performance was just the opening act./1/110379/coverorgin.jpg?v=1f75edf42841fc26cc1cb17c7d1fd698&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Contract Marriage To My Boss's Rival
For seven years, I was Grant Charles’s shadow—his top executive assistant by day and the woman in his bed by night. I managed his billion-dollar empire and handled his every crisis, believing our bond was the one thing his money couldn't buy. Everything shattered when I walked into his penthouse and found Aimee Austin sitting on his lap, wearing nothing but his favorite white dress shirt. Grant didn't even look guilty; he just stared at me with cold, arrogant eyes and told me I was dripping rain on his expensive Persian rug. When I tried to resign, he showed me exactly how cruel he could be. He knew I had drained my life savings to pay for my mother’s specialized care for her dementia. "Without my salary and the foundation subsidy, she’ll be on the street in a month," he whispered, his voice dripping with malice. "Is your pride really worth her life?" He didn't stop there. He tried to break my spirit by publicly humiliating me at a high-end restaurant, orchestrating a "setup" to show me that without his protection, I was nothing more than a common servant. He wanted me to realize that without him, I was a nobody with no future. I couldn't believe the man I had protected for nearly a decade was weaponizing my dying mother to keep me as his subordinate. He thought he owned every inch of me, and he was waiting for me to come crawling back on my knees to beg for my old life. But Grant made one fatal mistake: he assumed I was a charity case. He had no idea I was the secret heir to the billion-dollar Klein Trust, currently frozen behind a single marriage clause. I didn't need his money; I just needed a husband. Instead of begging for my job, I walked straight into the office of the only man Grant feared—the ruthless litigator Julian Vance. I threw a marriage contract on his desk and gave him an offer he couldn't refuse. It was time to stop being a shadow and start a war./0/45458/coverorgin.jpg?v=20260525132940&imageMogr2/format/webp)
