Modern Books for Women
Bestsellers Ongoing Completed
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Reborn Heiress Marries My Ex-Fiancé's Brother
Tonight was supposed to be the night I became the happiest woman in D.C., celebrating my engagement at the legendary Bolton Manor gala. I wore emerald silk and a diamond that cost more than most mansions, convinced that Hank Bolton was my soulmate and the key to my family's future. But behind the heavy oak doors of the guest wing, the dream died. I found my fiancé tangled with another woman, laughing about how I was nothing more than a "clueless cash cow" whose inheritance would fund his run for the Senate. In my first life, I reacted with tears and screams, which only allowed his family to paint me as an unstable lunatic. They stripped me of my dignity, bankrupted the Adams estate, and watched coldly as my brother, Lucas, died in a ditch trying to save me. I ended up gasping for air in a burning building, realizing too late that my perfect engagement was actually my execution. I died in the soot and the shadows, feeling the searing heat of a betrayal that burned worse than the fire. I lost everything because I was too blind to see the monsters hiding behind expensive smiles. But then, I suddenly gasped for air and realized the smoke was gone. I was standing in front of a vanity, the calendar mocking me: October 14th. The night of the gala. I had been given a second chance, and this time, I wasn't going to be the victim. I recorded the betrayal on my phone and walked into the library with a heart made of ice. I didn't just blow up the engagement; I demanded a new groom—Hank’s "invalid" older brother, Dereck, a man the world had written off as a dying recluse. "I'll take him," I told the stunned family. I wanted a husband who couldn't cheat, a puppet who would leave me a wealthy widow within a year. I thought I was choosing a safe, broken man to shield me from my enemies. I didn't know that under his blanket, Dereck was hiding a holster, or that the "dying" man was actually a predator who had been waiting for someone exactly like me to walk into his trap./1/121194/coverorgin.jpg?v=84f91c912b9966834f35fe7f9944717a&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Too Late For Regret: The Surgeon's Escape
Dr. Kayli Byrd was in the middle of her ER shift when the trauma doors burst open. The patient wheeled in from a car crash was her husband of five years, Brody. But he wasn't alone. Beside him was his mistress, Carly, and Kayli's own son, Leo. Brody didn't even look at Kayli as his wife. He just barked orders at her like she was staff, demanding a full workup for Carly's minor scratch. When Kayli reached out to check on her son, Leo flinched in fear. He buried his face into the mistress's neck, whimpering for "Auntie Carly" and completely rejecting his own mother. Later, at the courthouse, Brody deliberately brought Carly and Leo to flaunt his perfect new family. He thought this would break Kayli. He thought she would cry and beg him not to leave. For five years, Kayli had sacrificed her surgical career to play the quiet, invisible wife for his wealthy family. She finally understood she was just a placeholder, easily replaced by a woman who had effortlessly stolen both her husband and her child. The betrayal was absolute, leaving her with a cold, hollow space in her chest. But instead of breaking down, Kayli calmly handed the mediator her terms. "I'm waiving my custody rights to Leo, and I want a twenty million dollar severance to disappear quietly." Before Brody could even process the shock, Kayli blocked his number, packed a single suitcase, and boarded a one-way flight to Europe to start a new life./1/108217/coverorgin.jpg?v=4f15e3e125e328929caa5a41ebb4f69d&imageMogr2/format/webp)
My Quiet Wife Is An Elite Genius
I was the ultimate trophy wife, a polished ornament in Francisco Zimmerman’s billionaire empire. For three years, I perfected the "Zimmerman Wife Smile," playing the role of the devoted partner while smoothing the Egyptian cotton of his shirts. The illusion shattered when I stood outside his study and heard him laughing with his mistress, Annalise. "She’s just a vase that only knows how to smile," Francisco’s voice was cold, devoid of any warmth. "As long as I pay the maintenance fees on time, she stays obedient." I walked out that night with nothing but a canvas bag and the clothes on my back. But Francisco wasn't finished with his "asset." He froze my bank accounts and used his massive influence to blacklist me from every interior design firm in New York. He tracked my phone, watching me struggle from the shadows, waiting for me to starve so I would crawl back to his mansion. He even showed up at the dive bar where I was playing piano for rent money, mocking my desperation. "You have technique, but no heart," he sneered, tossing a silver coin into my tip jar as if I were a beggar. "You're hollow, Iris. Just like your pride." I couldn't believe this was the same man whose life I had saved during a bloody night in Macau. To him, I wasn't a wife; I was a stock price that needed stabilizing. The more I fought for my independence, the tighter he pulled the net, determined to break my spirit until I had no choice but to return to his gilded cage. Then, the morning sickness hit. I realized I wasn't just carrying my own life anymore—I was carrying his heir. If Francisco found out, he would never let us go; he would turn my child into another "performance bonus" for his brand. Looking at the sonogram, I knew a divorce would never be enough to escape a man who thought he owned the world. "I'm not going back," I whispered, staring at his yacht moored in the harbor. "To save this baby, Iris Potter has to die."/1/121195/coverorgin.jpg?v=f3a7c5f01936dbdba2161467d2339c4b&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Reborn And Married To The Ruthless Billionaire
For six years, Elena Craig dedicated her life and her brilliant mind to her fiancé, Jory Black. She built his tech empire from the ground up, believing they were heading toward a perfect marriage. But her reward wasn't a wedding ring. It was a staged car crash and the suffocating, damp earth of a fresh grave. As her bones splintered under the crushing weight of the dirt, she heard the people she loved most standing over her casket. "Don't worry, sis. I'll take good care of Jory for you. And all your money." Her stepsister Carissa laughed like poison, while Jory coldly dismissed Elena as just a boring stepping stone. They had been sleeping together in her bed, plotting to bankrupt her mother's company, before burying her alive to silence her forever. The agonizing pain of suffocation was nothing compared to the raw, gaping wound of their betrayal. How could she have been so blind to the monsters living right beside her? Why did her unwavering loyalty only earn her a brutal, agonizing death? Then, her eyes flew open. She wasn't dead. She was sitting on Jory's plush sofa, reborn exactly two days before her family's ruin. Hearing her stepsister's suppressed moans coming from the master bedroom, Elena didn't shed a single tear. She calmly walked in, dropped her three-carat diamond ring into Jory's whiskey, and slapped him viciously across the face. "Our engagement is over." Leaving the cheating scum behind, she walked straight out into the midnight air to propose to the most ruthless billionaire in New York./1/117302/coverorgin.jpg?v=10e28b171ab3e6dc7c1eca9a542d2bc2&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Billionaire's Runaway Genius Heiress Fiancee
For years, Annabell was treated like the dirt beneath the Richmond family's shoes, forced to endure their arrogance while the favored daughter, Carisa, was handed the world. When Annabell slammed a financial report on the desk, exposing that the family's offshore accounts were completely empty, they didn't thank her. Instead, Julian tried to strike her, and Carisa played the weeping victim. Ethan Richmond pointed a trembling finger at the door, stripping Annabell of every cent and throwing her out into the freezing rain. "You are done in this house! You get nothing!" They sneered, expecting her to crawl back and beg on the streets, mocked by the entire elite circle as worthless trash. They thought she was just a helpless orphan with nothing left to her name. They had no idea that the quiet girl they just discarded was the financial genius who secretly controlled all their leverage trading codes. Annabell didn't shed a single tear. She calmly signed the inheritance renunciation, walked out, and froze 80% of the Richmonds' assets with a single keystroke. And just as her former family prepared to watch her starve, a convoy of armored Range Rovers pulled up. The patriarch of the ultra-wealthy Dixon family stepped out with tears in his eyes, handing over deeds to Manhattan skyscrapers. The true billionaire heiress had finally returned, and New York's hierarchy was about to be violently rewritten./1/115031/coverorgin.jpg?v=71c40cfd91771a5a73ba17e7ca86cfa3&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Unwanted Healer's Thirty-Day Fake Marriage
Cynthia saved a dying billionaire on a train with a single silver needle, accidentally leaving her broken bracelet behind. Her greedy cousin claimed the bracelet and the credit. Cynthia didn't care. To stop her cruel aunt from pulling the plug on her uncle's life support, she cornered the paranoid billionaire, Dominic Church, into a thirty-day fake engagement. But Dominic was convinced she was a manipulative gold-digger. When his own grandmother secretly laced his mansion with aphrodisiacs to force them together, Dominic's paranoia snapped. He pinned Cynthia against the wall, his eyes filled with absolute disgust. "If you were the last woman on earth, I would cut off my own hands before I touched you." Ignoring her desperate explanations, he coldly ordered his massive bodyguard to throw her into the freezing outdoor pool. The icy water instantly triggered Cynthia's horrific childhood trauma of a deadly plane crash. Her lungs seized. As she sank into the dark depths, thrashing and suffocating, she couldn't understand why the man whose life she had saved was now ruthlessly taking hers. It wasn't until Dominic saw the security footage proving her absolute innocence that his paranoid delusions shattered. Trembling, he dropped to his knees beside her lifeless, blue body. But when Cynthia finally opened her eyes, the thirty-day contract was dead, and she was ready to make him pay./1/122169/coverorgin.jpg?v=8dcd9568296e31df05b0ba5fac948b8c&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Escaping My Possessive Billionaire Ex-Husband
I went to a luxury hotel for a blind date, hoping to finally move on from my past. But I opened the wrong door and stumbled right into my billionaire ex-husband, Damarcus. He was sitting in the dim suite with a beautiful socialite, watching me freeze like a beggar in my cheap dress. I fled, but he cornered me in the hallway restroom. He coldly mocked my family's crushing debt and implied I was selling myself to my date. I thought the humiliation was over, so I threw myself into my demanding corporate job to pay for my sick mother's care. The next night, my boss, Felix, took me to a high-stakes dinner with a major client. But Damarcus showed up there too. He walked right into our private room, dominating the space, and deliberately sabotaged me. He raised his glass and loudly toasted to my resilience, twisting the truth to make my boss think we were having a secret, scandalous affair. He wanted to destroy my reputation and strip away the only lifeline I had left. He had already ruined my life once, leaving me with nothing. Why was he hunting me down just to play these cruel games? I sat in my dark apartment, waiting in terror for Felix to fire me. Instead, my phone rang. "I believe you. I know what kind of man he is." Hearing my boss say those words, my fear finally burned into rage. This time, I wasn't going to run./1/108218/coverorgin.jpg?v=f8d28505371d35b1db7fdc8d2ab59f29&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Reborn Heiress: The CEO's Revenge Bride
I lay in the hospital bed, every breath feeling like I was inhaling wet concrete. My husband, Trent, stood by the window, more interested in his reflection in the glass than his dying wife. My sister, Cristi, sat nearby, complaining about how the rain would ruin her expensive shoes on the way to the car. Trent walked to my bedside and brushed a finger against my oxygen tube. "The liver failure is aggressive," he whispered. "But we expected that, didn't we? After all those 'vitamins' you've been taking." I tried to scream, but my vocal cords were paralyzed. Cristi just giggled, telling me not to struggle because they needed my trust fund voting power by midnight. They held up a Do Not Resuscitate order and told me my hand had "signed" it with a little help. "You were a depreciating asset, Cleora," Trent said, his lips cold against my forehead. "Now, you're finally liquidated." As the darkness swallowed me, I saw flashes of my life—my mother’s suspicious car crash, my stolen sketchbooks, and the bitter almond taste in my morning juice. I died in a state of pure, helpless rage, realizing I had been murdered by the only people I ever loved. How could they be so heartless? How could I have been so blind to the monsters living in my own home? Then came the sensation of falling. I sat up with a gasp, my lungs burning with fresh, salty air. The hospital was gone. I was in a luxury stateroom on our family’s charity cruise, three years before my death. I was alive, healthy, and back at the beginning. When a blood-stained billionaire named Clemente Pennington walked out of the suite's bathroom, I didn't run. I looked him in the eye and realized that this time, I wouldn't be the one liquidated. I was going to make them pay for every drop of poison they ever fed me./1/121196/coverorgin.jpg?v=5f1b8ad106bf16c7555c96110bf5bd7e&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Raising The Ruthless Billionaire's Stolen Heir
My husband forced me to sign divorce papers because of my so-called infertility. His mother wanted a grandson, so I left New York with nothing, eventually adopting an abandoned baby boy named Leo. We lived peacefully for four years, until a fleet of black SUVs surrounded my tiny apartment. A ruthless billionaire named Damien Montgomery threw a DNA test at my feet, claiming Leo was his stolen heir. He offered me two million dollars to hand over my son. "I am not negotiating with you. Get in the car." His bodyguards forced us into his Rolls-Royce, trapping me in his fortress of an estate. The sudden trauma terrified Leo so much that he developed acute pneumonia and was rushed to the hospital. But while fetching medicine in the hospital corridor, I bumped into my ex-husband and his new wife. My ex was holding a little boy who looked to be at least three and a half years old. My blood ran cold as I stared at the child. We divorced exactly four years ago because the doctor claimed I was barren. The math simply didn't add up. My "infertility" was a calculated lie to cover up his affair and kick me out. Caught between a tyrannical billionaire trying to steal my adopted son and the sickening truth of my past marriage, I wiped my tears. I was done being manipulated; it was time to make them all pay./1/118276/coverorgin.jpg?v=ca3824f91444343ddbd28905b4499fe4&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Discarded By Him, Claimed By The Enemy
I fought for the NorthCom mercenary team for five years, bleeding for them and treating them like family. But during a brutal blizzard extraction, after I was gutted and exposed to a deadly neurotoxin to protect our flank, my commander, Jeffrey, called for a sudden vote. He calmly asked the team who was in favor of leaving me behind. One by one, the men and women whose lives I had just saved raised their hands. Jeffrey looked down at me, his eyes completely devoid of emotion, and casually kicked my desperate hand away from his boot. "This is for the good of the company, Etta. It's a calculated loss." They stripped me of my weapons, tossed a plastic-wrapped first-aid kit into the snow, and flew away in their warm helicopter, leaving me to freeze to death. As the ice seeped into my bones, the agonizing truth hit me. I was nothing but a disposable tool. A minor, pathetic footnote in Jeffrey's glorious corporate rise. I had sacrificed my life for people who viewed me as garbage the second I became a liability. But the person who stepped out of the howling storm to save me wasn't a friend. It was Kraig Crawford, the ruthless CEO of the rival syndicate and Jeffrey's deadliest enemy. He pumped his own blood into my dying veins, his eyes burning with a dark, terrifying obsession. "You're my war prize now." I didn't know what this monster truly wanted with me, but as my heart started beating again, I made a promise to myself. I was done being a calculated loss./1/117303/coverorgin.jpg?v=92ec3d5973c40cb0e510f76568585261&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The True Heiress Makes Her Spectacular Comeback
I was adopted by the wealthy Sterling family ten years ago, believing I finally had a real home. But on the night of my sister Serena's Ivy League celebration, I realized my "loving" adoptive mother was the one who pushed me into the freezing Hudson River. They didn't just steal my perfect SAT score to secure Serena's future. They had drained my biological parents' trust fund to cover their failed business ventures. When I crashed the ballroom dripping wet, exposing a brutal boat propeller scar on my shoulder, my adoptive father publicly called me a delusional, ungrateful orphan. My adoptive brother even tried to violently attack me in my own bedroom. They wanted me dead just to protect their stolen wealth and fake reputation. I gave them ten years of my life, yet they traded my survival in the freezing currents without a second thought. I couldn't understand how a family could be so monstrous, smiling for the cameras while leaving me to drown in the dark. "The Sterlings adopted you for a charity board seat, but you are the direct descendant of the Astor family." Hearing the truth about my real bloodline from the man who rescued me, my heart turned to ice. Now, stepping into the VIP hospital room with my silver needles to save my dying biological grandfather from a corrupt doctor, I made a vow. I am dropping the Sterling name forever, and I will take everything from them./0/50791/coverorgin.jpg?v=806ede9b62453355a089a0e9a88d56d9&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Tempting Fate With The Tycoon
One drunken night, Miranda boldly approached Leland, only to be met with his cold and unyielding gaze. He pinned her to the wall, cautioning, "Don't provoke me. I doubt you can handle it." Soon after, her engagement fell apart, leaving her destitute. With no other options, Miranda sought refuge with Leland. Over time, she took on the role of a stepmother, caring for his child. She came to understand that Leland's decision to marry her wasn't just about her being obedient. It was also because she resembled someone he cherished. Confronted with Miranda's request for a divorce, Leland hugged her. "Please reconsider." Miranda just smiled. "Mr. Adams, are you ensnared?"/0/55658/coverorgin.jpg?v=0d4351fded4a3f7ba1ddc8f60860f806&imageMogr2/format/webp)
A New Dawn For The Fallen Heiress
Lacey thought she'd have to avenge her past grievances by herself, but destiny had a different idea in mind... By a twist of fate, she ended up being the elegant daughter of the White family. When the real daughter returned, Lacey chose to stay, only to be trapped in a well-planned conspiracy leading to her untimely death. Reborn, Lacey encountered the real daughter's comeback. This time, she quickly left, resolved to recover what was wrongly taken from her in her previous life. Rhett exclaimed, "Trying to bully my woman, huh? Do you want to die?" Wait, what? Since when had she become his woman?/1/116330/coverorgin.jpg?v=0dcb677fe56c6703c1fb224628e8e2a3&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Villainous Wife's Spectacular Comeback
For two years, Aria was a prisoner in her own body, forced to watch helplessly as a parasitic "System" hijacked her life. The nightmare shattered in a crowded neon club when the System forced her to slap New York's golden boy across the face, before abruptly detaching from her brain. Control slammed back into her limbs, but she was left to face a completely ruined reality. The System had turned her into a malicious, hysterical stalker. It had destroyed her reputation, alienated her best friend, and forced her into a loveless arranged marriage with Julian Carlisle, a ruthless billionaire. When she woke up in the hospital, the tabloids had already branded her a violent psycho. Her powerful mother-in-law threw the glossy tabloid photos at her feet with pure disgust. "If you cannot explain this right now, you will sign divorce papers and get out!" A suffocating wave of injustice and panic gripped Aria's chest. She had lost two whole years to a sick game she never agreed to play, taking the blame for horrific actions she couldn't stop. What exactly was that mechanical voice, and would it ever come back to finish her off? But Aria refused to just roll over and die. Wiping away the heavy makeup of the villainess she never was, she stared at her dangerous husband and made her first move. "I was drugged." With that single calculated lie, she began her counterattack to manipulate the Carlisle family, clear her name, and take her freedom back./0/21916/coverorgin.jpg?v=f31fba3a95e9d93a499f298d57e2bfe5&imageMogr2/format/webp)
My Love Towards You
'Are you Bipolar?' A story of a girl whose infinite love for a person who is not part of the human world. Her love is boundless. She has no boundaries when it comes to her love. 'You’re still the one I run to, the one that I belong to, you’re still the one I want for life!!' An unknown creature approaches her because of the past reprisals, but unfortunately she falls in love with him. 'I want to dig your grave next to mine.' His love is an enormous danger for her, but she doesn't have a clue about it. The girl is blind to her love. He saves her from other enemies, but he is her biggest enemy. 'Die for me!' Jung-Kim-Hea is the apple of the eye for her three handsome brothers. She's a weakness to her brothers. She believes her brothers lead a normal life, but she has no knowledge of their mafia world. Her third brother is a foster brother who eventually falls in love with her at a young age, but she is not capable of seeing his love for her. 'You are a danger to my heart.' . . Where does the roller coaster of her destiny get her? A/N: Kindly check the trailer of the book on Instagram I'd: Merry Author./1/119251/coverorgin.jpg?v=4bde2428a91e67e84a60e8acb5ca17a3&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Disposable Wife's Unexpected Comeback
Enola stood outside her billionaire husband's office with a warm homemade meal, hoping to finally soften his heart just days before her due date. Instead, through the slightly ajar door, she heard his chillingly calm voice instructing his lawyer. "The child stays. The woman is disposable." He was taking her baby and giving her position as his wife to his mistress, Julianna. The devastating shock triggered sudden, agonizing premature labor. Enola collapsed on the cold marble floor, gasping and begging for help. When Sterling finally opened the door, his eyes held nothing but sheer annoyance. He stepped around her writhing body as if she were something unclean. "Get the paramedics. My wife is having some sort of episode." He barked the order to his assistant, then turned his back on her to comfort his mistress on the phone. Lying in the dim hallway, overwhelmed by soul-crushing despair, Enola couldn't understand. How could the man she loved be such a heartless monster? How could he casually order her disposal and steal her child without a single ounce of pity? She refused to let him win. With the help of a trusted doctor, she faked her death on the operating table and fled into the night with her newborn son. Four years later, she had rebuilt her life from the ashes as an award-winning designer. But when she walked into a VIP room at the Plaza Hotel to pitch her brand to a mysterious Wall Street investor, the man who turned around in the chair was Sterling./0/55659/coverorgin.jpg?v=46938e3431f6395701d3670cdd9eec72&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Unexpectedly Yours: Falling For My Billionaire Groom
Scarlett asked hesitantly, "Mr. Dixon, are you serious about this?" She had expected their marriage to be just a formal agreement, with each of them living their own lives without interference. So, when her newlywed husband mentioned fulfilling their marital duties, it caught her off guard. Just when she was determined to keep her distance, she found herself drawn closer to him. To her amazement, her seemingly average husband was actually the wealthiest man. It also became increasingly difficult for her to conceal that she was a disciple of a renowned designer. Life then began to sweeten in ways she never could have imagined./1/116331/coverorgin.jpg?v=b2a084f47bfaf6f0b7aa4ac0ad5ecca0&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Her Daughter's Funeral, Their Wedding Night
For years, Elenora lived as the pathetic, loyal shadow of the Montgomery family, desperately craving a single glance from the billionaire heir, Donovan. That blind devotion shattered the day Delphine Vance's luxury SUV slammed into Elenora's four-year-old daughter, Poppy. Elenora knelt in a pool of blood on the asphalt, screaming for help as Delphine stood by the wreckage with a chilling smirk. When Donovan frantically sprinted onto the scene, Elenora thought they were saved. Instead, he ran right past the dying child to wrap his arms around the completely uninjured Delphine. Elenora grabbed the hem of Donovan's trousers, begging him to save her little girl. "Please. Save her. Save Poppy." He shoved her away so hard she sprawled into the shattered glass, slicing her palms open as she listened to Poppy take her last, gurgling breath. With no one to mourn her daughter, a hollow Elenora walked into the freezing Atlantic Ocean, clutching a tiny white urn until the dark water swallowed her whole. As the saltwater flooded her lungs, her sorrow morphed into a suffocating, violent hatred. Why did she waste her life groveling for a monster who stepped over her dying child? But the afterlife never came. Elenora gasped, her eyes snapping open in her old servant's quarters to find her hands unscarred. She looked at the date on her phone and realized she was seventeen again, five years before the crash. Tearing up the diaries of her past obsession, her eyes turned as cold as the ocean. This time, she wouldn't be their prey; she was going to build her own empire and make them pay./1/108220/coverorgin.jpg?v=bd3265a6ff37ac5b2fd7ae1adb340f67&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Fake Heiress: Captured By Her Warden
I was a ghost in the rafters of Sotheby’s, five floors above the most expensive pavement in New York, clutching a ten-million-dollar ledger hidden inside a drop of blood-red agate. I had the perfect exit planned, but I didn't count on Harding Bishop, a security predator who could track a shadow through a rainstorm. When the exits were sealed and the tactical teams started swarming, I made a split-second choice to survive. I stepped out of the shadows and looked into the eyes of a billionaire socialite searching for her missing daughter, whispering a single, broken word: "Mom?" Just like that, I wasn't a thief anymore; I was Cassandra Sterling, the heiress who had been gone for five years. But the homecoming was a nightmare. My new "sister" promised to send me back to the gutter, my "father" held a gold-plated pistol to my knee the moment the limo doors closed, and the family patriarch tried to strike me down with his cane just for breathing his air. Every second was a high-wire act. I had to play the part of a traumatized victim while a ten-million-dollar stone was literally sewn into the raw, bleeding wound on my shoulder. If I moved wrong, I’d bleed out; if I spoke wrong, I’d be buried in the backyard of the Hamptons estate. Harding Bishop didn't believe a word of it. He moved into the room next to mine, watching my every breath and checking my hands for gun calluses under the guise of protection. He thinks he’s the warden and I’m his prisoner, but he’s about to find out that a cornered rat is the most dangerous thing in the house. "Sleep tight, Vesper," he whispered as he locked my door, using my real name for the first time. He thinks he’s won, but he has no idea that I’m already reaching for the Agate hidden under my pillow, ready to burn his empire to the ground./0/76424/coverorgin.jpg?v=1f1f00800da35e5cf86ce12ac1f1b225&imageMogr2/format/webp)
