Modern Books for Women
Bestsellers Ongoing Completed
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One Hundred Reasons To Walk Away
For three years, I documented my husband Ashton's neglect in a secret ledger I called "The Song of a Hundred Reasons." Each forgotten anniversary and dismissive glance was a point deducted from a hundred. When the points hit zero, I would walk away. The final reason came not as a quiet slight, but as a deafening crash. When a massive chandelier fell towards us in a restaurant, Ashton didn't hesitate. He shoved his "best friend" Bailey to safety, shielding her with his body while I was left to be crushed. I woke up in the hospital with broken ribs and a severe concussion. He never visited. Instead, he spent a fortune on a private med-jet to fly Bailey to a luxury retreat for her "panic attack." Her well-being was paramount; mine was an afterthought. That was the final reason. I signed the divorce papers from my hospital bed and never looked back. Two years later, holding a Grammy for my hit album "Song of a Hundred Reasons," he showed up, begging for a second chance./0/68794/coverorgin.jpg?v=265bfb709ea1408d27720830b02ca4ba&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Under My Deceitful Wife's Spell
Despite being an illegitimate daughter, Lena bore a striking resemblance to the young lady of the Evans family. Faced with their threats, she was forced to take her half-sister’s place and marry Dylan. As an act of defiance, Lena seduced Dylan night after night, until she had him completely wrapped around her finger. Using his affections to her advantage, she set out to undermine the Evans family. Over time, Dylan began to notice something odd about his beloved wife.../1/102428/coverorgin.jpg?v=1006123a3f6de712dae18c6a2d277908&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Doctor, The Husband, The Lie
My Broadway dreams died with a fall on stage. For three agonizing years, my husband Hudson was my rock, nursing me through what doctors called a career-ending injury. Then I discovered the truth. My "injury" was a lie, a conspiracy orchestrated by my husband and our doctor, Bethany. They had been slowly poisoning me to keep me crippled and dependent. When I confronted them, they tried to silence me with an overdose. In the hospital, Bethany carved up my body with a scalpel. To complete their twisted fantasy, they decided she would carry my child, forcibly harvesting my embryos while I was awake on a pain-enhancing drug. Hudson just watched. "Just endure it, Emmy," he murmured. But they didn't break me. I escaped and meticulously erased myself from his world. My final act before disappearing was pressing 'send'-unleashing every piece of evidence to the entire world. "You took everything from me," I wrote. "Now, I'll take everything from you. Tenfold."/0/83812/coverorgin.jpg?v=3bad48b4de11627c80c2d280b4a03f3e&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Husband's Verdict
I sacrificed everything for her. My top-tier university scholarship, my architectural dreams, all to work for her father' s firm, playing the perfect, accommodating husband to Chloe for five long years. One Tuesday, curiosity led my hand to unlock an ornate wooden box on her vanity, a box she claimed held precious family heirlooms. Inside, there was no jewelry. Only a discreet urn and two receipts: one for a D&C procedure, the other for cremation. My blood ran cold when I saw the 'father' s name' wasn't mine. It was Leo, the musician she' d painted as a crazed stalker, the man I' d served a restraining order to protect her from. That restraining order, my very act of protection, wasn't a deterrent to their affair; it was the ultimate foreplay, according to a recording I later heard. Her family dismissed my pain, my father-in-law openly favored Leo, even hiring him to work alongside me. But the true breaking point came when Chloe watched, impassively, as I thrashed in a cold lake, struggling to breathe after she pushed me in. She walked away, leaving me to drown. The love I had for her didn't just die; it was extinguished, replaced by a chilling void. It wasn't about anger or sadness anymore, but an utter sense of betrayal that twisted my entire reality. And that's when the plan began to form. A cold, precise design to give them the "legacy" they truly deserved, on the biggest stage of all: the dedication ceremony of the skyscraper I designed./1/109937/coverorgin.jpg?v=b8c0fb5ce9911eaaaef351df47395d21&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Far Apart, Safe at Last
During a snow-mountain expedition, an avalanche buried me alive. By the time they dug me out, the cold had already drained every last trace of warmth and life from my body. Julian Crowe dug through the snow with his bare hands for ten straight hours. His fingers were torn and bleeding by the time he finally pulled me out. Then he chartered a private jet and rushed me to the most elite private hospital for emergency treatment. Inside the thermal recovery chamber, a faint thread of consciousness returned to me. Through the haze, I heard Julian arguing with the doctor. "Weren't we supposed to amputate just to save her life? Why are you draining all of her hematopoietic stem cells too? Mr. Crowe, you're personally destroying her last chance of survival!" Julian's voice, usually so controlled, carried a chilling cruelty. "Letting her live safely and comfortably until today is already the greatest mercy I've ever shown her. The only woman who will grow old with me is Serena Vale. And the only thing that can save Serena is her life. She owes Serena that much, and now it's time to repay it." So the promise to live and die together had only been my own foolish fantasy. Julian had married me, Stella Hart, for one reason only. To turn me into a walking blood bank for his precious mistress. If that was the truth, then I would give them exactly what they wanted./1/101333/coverorgin.jpg?v=cb7cd928ef844766aa62e7ed43c93b72&imageMogr2/format/webp)
I Divorced My Husband, I Married His Rival
When she's preparing dinner for him, he's out there dating; When she's drinking with men to get a business deal for him, he is announcing to be single for the price of his stock; When she drags herself to the hospital in high fever, he's at the same hospital, taking care of his ex girl friend. She loved him for ten years. She did everything for him and gave him everything she had. She thought their love can never die, yet it did. She doesn't hate him. She's just tired. She turns and left him, only to see that there was a firm chest that has been waiting for her all this time. She is also the one adored in another man's eyes, and when she finally gets a taste of being loved, she realize-- He has never loved her. That day he gets back home, only to be shocked that the woman who has always been there for him was gone. Regret taking over him as he chases after her, only to see another man saying the scared oath on the alter with their hands holding together. That was when he realized-- The innocent girl who loved him, the most precious treasure that he as ever got in his life, is gone. He lost the best thing that has ever been his. Two broken hearts. One fake marriage. A thousand buried secrets. Eva thought love would be enough to keep them together. Ten years loving Stephan. Five years married to him. And one tragic accident that shattered everything they ever were, she's left with a stranger wearing her husband's face. Until the day she finally walks away. And that's when she meets Micah, her ex-husband's enemy, the man who once set her marriage on fire just by existing. He proposes to her a dangerous deal: a one-year marriage that will make Stephan regret ever letting her go. But what starts as a game to wound her ex soon spirals into something raw, tender, and terrifyingly real. Only, Micah isn't what he seems. Behind his easy smile are secrets she was never meant to find, secrets that could destroy them both. And when the truth comes out, love might not be enough to save anyone. When the lies unravel... will her heart choose forgiveness - or freedom?/0/85220/coverorgin.jpg?v=0bbbd261667ce454549536db740ca40e&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Love's Deception, A Fortune's Rebirth
The plan was simple: two weeks of quiet solitude at my apartment, a much-needed break from the relentless grind of my architecture career. But the moment I unlocked the door, a cloying, unfamiliar perfume assaulted my senses, followed by the sight of a stranger lounging on my custom velvet sofa, nonchalantly filing her nails. "Can I help you?" she drawled, dripping with disdain, as I stood dumbfounded in the doorway of my own home, apartment 3B. This woman, Tiffany Stone, introduced herself as my brother Liam' s new girlfriend, claiming this was "Liam's place," scoffing at my very career and dismissing my deeply personal space as a mere "graduation present" for a girl who "drew buildings." The audacity escalated swiftly. Tiffany and her mother, Mrs. Stone-a woman cloaked in fur and radiating venom-informed me they were "redecorating" my apartment and expected me to find a hotel. My cherished minimalist decor and art prints had vanished, replaced by gaudy, tasteless clutter. When I tried to reach my bedroom, where my personal safe contained the deed to the apartment, they physically blocked my path, declaring, "It's not your room anymore. It's our guest room." My own family, my own brother, seemed to be orchestrating this hostile takeover. The situation spiraled into a nightmare; a physical altercation broke out, leaving me bruised and bleeding, yet they accused me of assault. The building manager, Mr. Davis, shockingly sided with them, presenting falsified records to claim the apartment belonged to Liam. Then Liam himself arrived, not as a rescuer, but as the architect of my downfall, embracing Tiffany, feigning concern, and publicly humiliating me. He flatly stated he had transferred the deed to his name and then, with a chilling smile, proposed to essentially sell me off to a business associate. Every accusation, every betrayal, shattered my reality. He even revealed I was adopted, not truly a Reed, trying to strip away my entire identity. But in that moment, as I lay on the floor, a cold clarity crystallized. He had given me a weapon. I seized my T-square, shattered a mirror in a defiant act, and ran, finally breaking free to call for help. From the depths of betrayal, armed with undeniable evidence from a hidden camera and a desperate revelation that Liam, not I, was the adopted one, I watched as Liam, Tiffany, her mother, and the building manager were arrested, their carefully constructed lies crumbling on national television. This was not just about reclaiming an apartment. It was about rebuilding a legacy, reshaping my family's future, and redefining my own purpose./0/18265/coverorgin.jpg?v=9944950f46e24832b77b074dd762d178&imageMogr2/format/webp)
I Like Your Shoes
"Sometimes, we are so smitten with happy endings, that we believe we'll end up with one too." Ambrosia Bellemore never believed in happy endings, even though the books she read said otherwise. The closest she ever came to magic was when she found the most beautiful pair of ruby red heels on Amazon. "Lives aren't stories. Stories end, happy or otherwise. But lives don't. We die, and there's nothing happy or otherwise in dying." Calum Achorn never believed in magic. The closest he ever came to magic was when he met an infuriatingly wonderful woman on a flight to New York, wearing the most beautiful pair of ruby red heels he'd ever seen./1/102741/coverorgin.jpg?v=ed2c7f952e63c309f0a26c471040c60e&imageMogr2/format/webp)
My Fiance's Betrayal, My Fiery Vengeance
My fiancé and my adopted sister framed me for burning down our Hamptons beach house. They had me declared insane and used a forged power of attorney to lock me away in a private facility for four years. While I was drugged, tortured, and systematically broken, they stole my company, my reputation, and my life. When I was finally released, they stood before me, dripping in the wealth they'd stolen. Kelly, my sister, even wore my mother's engagement ring, a glittering trophy on her finger. They saw a vacant, docile shell, not the woman who spent every waking moment meticulously planning their ruin. They thought they had extinguished the fire. At a party meant to celebrate their victory, Kelly held up a dog collar studded with cheap rhinestones. "Wear this," she cooed, "and you can have your mother's watch back." I dropped to my knees and barked. They thought it was my final, crushing humiliation; it was the beginning of their end./1/117759/coverorgin.jpg?v=670eaa94f97d8d537dcc7d61a57b647f&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Married To My Best Friend's Billionaire Father
For ten years, I gave everything to Abe Hays. I put my architectural dreams on hold and worked like an unpaid maid to build his legacy, believing his promises of a future on my late parents' estate. Then yesterday, he threw me away like garbage for a wealthy heiress, leaving me homeless, jobless, and utterly ruined. When he cornered me on campus today, there wasn't a shred of guilt in his eyes. "My family took you in out of pity," he sneered. "You’re a penniless orphan, Chloe. You are nothing without me." It wasn't just a brutal breakup. It was a calculated heist to corporate-merge me out of my own family's land for his new resort project. But Abe made one fatal mistake. He didn't know that last night, drowned in tequila and heartbreak, I signed a marriage certificate. I accidentally married Alistair Sterling—a ruthless, untouchable titan of industry who controls the entire city's economy. And my best friend’s father. Before Abe could threaten me further, my best friend stepped in with a razor-sharp smirk. "Too bad about your resort, Abe. My dad bought that land yesterday as a wedding gift for his new wife. My new mom." Watching the color drain from my ex's arrogant face, I casually caught the keys to my new husband's Bentley. Abe wanted me to know my place. Now, he’ll have to watch me rule from a height he could never hope to reach./1/106652/coverorgin.jpg?v=f1203e01624099b737e41fec572f6afc&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Jilted Bride's Revenge: The Valkyrie Awakens
I had been a wife for exactly six hours when I woke up to the sound of my husband’s heavy breathing. In the dim moonlight of our bridal suite, I watched Hardin, the man I had adored for years, intertwined with my sister Carissa on the chaise lounge. The betrayal didn't come with an apology. Hardin stood up, unashamed, and sneered at me. "You're awake? Get out, you frumpy mute." Carissa huddled under a throw, her fake tears already welling up as she played the victim. They didn't just want me gone; they wanted me erased to protect their reputations. When I refused to move, my world collapsed. My father didn't offer a shoulder to cry on; he threatened to have me committed to a mental asylum to save his business merger. "You're a disgrace," he bellowed, while the guards stood ready to drag me away. They had spent my life treating me like a stuttering, submissive pawn, and now they were done with me. I felt a blinding pain in my skull, a fracture that should have broken me. But instead of tears, something dormant and lethal flickered to life. The terrified girl who walked down the aisle earlier that day simply ceased to exist. In her place, a clinical system—the Valkyrie Protocol—booted up. My racing heart plummeted to a steady sixty beats per minute. I didn't scream. I stood up, my spine straightening for the first time in twenty years, and looked at Hardin with the detachment of a surgeon looking at a tumor. "Correction," I said, my voice stripped of its stutter. "You're in my light." By dawn, I had drained my father's accounts, vanished into a storm, and found a bleeding Crown Prince in a hidden safehouse. They thought they had broken a mute girl. They didn't realize they had just activated their own destruction./0/50804/coverorgin.jpg?v=3095b30f6ed25ea0c1f046621bfb3329&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Love's Second Design
After three years as a dedicated housewife, Jessica's efforts to save her marriage ended in relentless heartbreak. Resolute, she divorced Aaron. Rising from the ashes, Jessica transformed into a renowned designer and business tycoon, building her empire without relying on her family's wealth. Her success and independence attracted many admirers. With pride, Jessica declared, "I'll never regret my divorce." However, Aaron returned, filled with remorse. "I deeply regret it. Please, my dear ex-wife, let's try again. Let's mend our relationship and remarry." Would Jessica, now empowered and at a crossroads, choose to rekindle love?/1/105557/coverorgin.jpg?v=033b26438bf347bdf0a35be7a8c4170d&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Reborn To Ruin: The Jilted Heiress's Revenge
I lay on a mildewed mattress in a run-down motel, my body trembling from withdrawal. Once the most feared "Gossip Queen" in Hollywood, I was now a forty-three-year-old ghost staring at a cracked mirror, waiting for the end. The door clicked open, and Brittany Potts stepped in, looking immaculate in a beige trench coat that cost more than my life. She didn't come to help; she tossed a waiver of marital assets onto my bed and handed me a cup of coffee laced with something that smelled like bitter almonds. She laughed, telling me my husband, Bennet, was already in the Bahamas celebrating my death. I froze when I saw the sapphire pendant around her neck—my mother’s necklace, which had vanished the day she died. As the poison began to burn through my chest, Brittany leaned in and whispered her final secret: she was the one who cut the brake lines on the car that killed my father when we were teenagers. My entire life had been a lie. The pills, the scandal, the bankruptcy—it was all a masterpiece of betrayal orchestrated by the two people I trusted most. I died on that filthy floor, suffocating on my own rage and the taste of chemicals, praying for a single chance to make them pay. But when I opened my eyes, the pain was gone. I was sitting in my old bedroom, the morning sun shining on a calendar that read September 15, 2024. My mother’s voice, warm and alive, called me for breakfast from downstairs. I was eighteen again, back in my senior year at Crestview Academy, and the monsters who destroyed me were still pretending to be my friends. This time, I’m the one who holds the shears./1/114474/coverorgin.jpg?v=c8cf1bd1814475ea8abf93ab44dcb0df&imageMogr2/format/webp)
My Arrogant Ex Is My Gaming Master
Grace finally decided to end her toxic, one-sided relationship with Adelbert, the arrogant heir to a global empire, by texting him to terminate their family trust. His response was a single, freezing word: "Done." When they accidentally bumped into each other in a law firm elevator, Adelbert looked right through her. "I don't know her," he stated coldly to his frat brothers, treating her like invisible trash. Humiliated and completely exhausted, Grace sought an escape in a brutal shooter game called PUBG. But by a sick twist of fate, the random matchmaking threw her into a squad with Adelbert's frat brothers and a god-tier, toxic player named 'Ø'. 'Ø' relentlessly mocked her terrible skills, humiliating her and calling her a "pig" over the voice chat. Yet, during the final shootout, this ruthless player suddenly threw his character in front of hers, taking a fatal barrage of bullets just to keep her alive. Grace soon uncovered the terrifying truth: the top-ranked 'Ø' was actually Adelbert himself. She was utterly confused and furious. Why would the untouchable billionaire who ignored her legal texts and publicly humiliated her suddenly sacrifice himself for her in a cheap video game? Refusing to swallow her pride in both the real and digital worlds, Grace sent a direct challenge to his gaming profile. "I'll prove I'm not a pig." Across the city, Adelbert stared at the notification, a dark smirk curling his lips, and clicked accept./0/81153/coverorgin.jpg?v=20260106194929&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Beyond the Stuntman
Jack Riley, a top Hollywood stunt coordinator and a discreet civilian specialist for the Department of Defense, was heading to a classified flight. After six critical months away on a secret vehicle testing project, he' d left his multi-million dollar company, Riley's Precision Stunts, and his personal finances in the seemingly capable hands of his longtime fiancée, Brenda. He thought he could trust her with everything. However, his composure shattered on the freeway when a bright orange McLaren recklessly swerved, brake-checked him, and caused a violent collision. The driver, Kyle "King Kyle" Peterson, a preening social media pest, immediately started boasting about his "sugar mama" buying his six-figure supercar. The cold truth hit Jack: it was the exact McLaren Brenda had cooed about wanting for an anniversary gift – a gift he' d wisely refused. Then came the deeper blow: Kyle called Brenda, and her sickeningly sweet voice confirmed she was his "baby," mocking Jack and his truck, declaring it "worthless." She then shockingly attempted to have him "fired" from his own company, even bringing her imposing "assistants" to underscore her authority. Outsiders watched, openly judging Jack, thinking he was just some old, pathetic man. The sheer audacity of her betrayal churned in Jack' s gut. How could the woman he' d loved, the woman he' d empowered and trusted with his entire life' s work and fortune, not only be cheating but actively plundering his company and brazenly siding with a narcissistic opportunist against him, all while he' d been serving his country? The injustice was a suffocating weight. But Jack Riley was no ordinary man. A master of strategic thinking and quiet resilience, he decided then and there, amidst the chaos. He would play their twisted game, allowing them to dig their own graves. He' d meticulously expose every layer of deceit, beginning his calculated, devastating counter-attack that would reclaim everything they thought they' d stolen from him./0/85377/coverorgin.jpg?v=5e4c005a941efd7783bec91cbc49072e&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Code Monkey's Revenge
I poured five years of my life into Nexus, the social media giant, building its very soul from lines of code in my quiet apartment. The world knew my live-in boyfriend, Mark Davis, as the CEO of ConnectCorp, the charismatic face of our success, but they didn't know I was the genius behind the curtain. On the eve of our IPO, a critical server failure threatened to derail everything, which I, Ava Chen, single-handedly fixed, only for the doorbell to ring. It was Chloe Miller, my college rival and Mark' s new Head of Product, who sauntered in uninvited, her smile as sharp as her designer suit, to tell me my contract was "terminated, effective immediately." Fired? It was impossible, I was Nexus, the very heart of the company. My call to Mark rang once, then Chloe answered on another phone, locking eyes with me as she faked distress for her "call with Mark," accusing me of aggression. "You' re his mistress," the horrifying realization hit me with the force of a physical blow, confirmed by her cruel smirk and the photo of Mark and me she turned face down. Outside, a crowd of ConnectCorp employees gathered, pointing and whispering, eager witnesses to my public humiliation, confirming my worst fears. Then Mark' s car screeched up, and he stormed out, ignoring me to pull Chloe into a theatrical embrace before yelling, "What the hell did you do, Ava?" Before I could explain, his hand flew through the air, connecting with my cheek, the crack echoing through the silent street. The man I loved, the man I built an empire for, had just publicly slapped me for his mistress. "You' re just the code monkey who got replaced," he sneered, joining Chloe' s cruel laugh as the crowd cheered my downfall. It was in that moment, stripped of everything, that a cold, hard resolve solidified within me. When Mark, attempting a final insult, offered me our old, dilapidated apartment as severance, I grasped the USB holding Nexus' s un-uploaded core. "There' s your data," I declared, throwing the drive to their feet, forcing them to scramble like dogs. Then I walked out, leaving the life I built behind, burning it all down for a chance at true liberation./1/116508/coverorgin.jpg?v=9e8615fca488c1a7149ee8fe30607f6d&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Shattered Vows: The Ex-Wife's Lethal Revenge
Chloe's husband handed her a brutal divorce agreement, stripping her of everything. "Sign it and get out," Carlisle ordered, his eyes like solid ice, declaring he had never loved her before tossing her aside for his mistress, Harper. Fleeing the penthouse, Chloe was relentlessly hunted down in the freezing rain. Harper's massive SUV rammed Chloe's sedan off a jagged coastal cliff, plunging her into the pitch-black Atlantic Ocean. She survived the abyss, but the crash shattered her face, requiring extensive reconstruction that completely erased the old Chloe. Six years later, the nightmare struck again. Her six-year-old son, Leo, lay dying from severe aplastic anemia. "We are out of time. His only chance of survival is a cord blood transplant from a matched sibling," the doctor announced. The sheer injustice of it burned a hole in her chest. Carlisle and Harper had thrown her away like disposable trash and tried to bury her at the bottom of the sea. Why did they get to live perfectly glamorous lives at the top of the world, while her innocent son gasped for his last breaths in a sterile hospital bed? To save Leo, she needed Carlisle's genes. Burying her striking new face behind thick glasses and shapeless gray suits, Chloe infiltrated his conglomerate as his drab, submissive new secretary. This time, she wasn't just surviving; she was returning to tear their perfect world apart./1/102898/coverorgin.jpg?v=5b53d87fab2f098dd3f4faee24464c6d&imageMogr2/format/webp)
My Career and Love Life Flourished after a Divorce
On the third day after my unexpected miscarriage, my husband, George Wood, brought home my stepsister, Savannah Ahmed. She was eight months pregnant. My stepmother, Julia Ahmed, said, "The Food family needs a child to continue the family legacy." My father added, "Clara, you must learn tolerance." When Savannah had an accident, George dragged me to the hospital and said, "We must save Savannah, even if we have to drain every last drop of Clara's blood. Clara, you should feel honored that you are still useful." George's cold words pierced through my heart. "You may leave now." I lay alone in the hospital corridor, waiting to die, but no one knew that I had already made a deal with George's most formidable rival, who was like a devil from hell./1/117916/coverorgin.jpg?v=6c24f3e6e7a0d2bf3c5bb4786edb9747&imageMogr2/format/webp)
His Rejection, Her Billionaire Engagement
My boyfriend of two years and I were a team. Both scholarship students, we pinched pennies and dreamed of a future we would build from nothing. I thought our love was real. Then I discovered he was cheating on me with my best friend. The truth was uglier: our entire relationship was just a cruel, two-year-long fraternity bet. I overheard him mocking me to his friends. "She's a gold-digger who didn't find the gold," he laughed. When I broke up with him, he retaliated by leaking our intimate photos, destroying my reputation and branding me a manipulative user. Betrayed and publicly shamed, I had lost everything. So I left town with a single suitcase. But my new life brought a shocking twist: I wasn't an orphan, but the long-lost heiress to a powerful family. At the gala celebrating my return, my ex crashed the party to beg for me back, only to watch in horror as the powerful CEO Cristian House got on one knee and asked me to be his wife./1/108217/coverorgin.jpg?v=4f15e3e125e328929caa5a41ebb4f69d&imageMogr2/format/webp)
