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Modern Books for Women

Bestsellers Ongoing Completed
The Curvy Ex-Wife's Revenge: The Divorce He Gave, The Regret He Earned

The Curvy Ex-Wife's Revenge: The Divorce He Gave, The Regret He Earned

Nicole had entered marriage with Walter, a man who never returned her feelings, bound to him through an arrangement made by their families rather than by choice. Even so, she had held onto the quiet belief that time might soften his heart and that one day he would learn to love her. However, that day never came. Instead, he treated her with constant contempt, tearing her down with cruel words and dismissing her as fat and manipulative whenever it suited him. After two years of a cold and distant marriage, Walter demanded a divorce, delivering his decision in the most degrading manner he could manage. Stripped of her dignity and exhausted by the humiliation, Nicole agreed to her friend Brenda's plan to make him see what he had lost. The idea was simple but daring. She would use another man to prove that the woman Walter had mocked and insulted could still be desired by someone else. All they had to do was hire a gigolo. Patrick had endured one romantic disappointment after another. Every woman he had been involved with had been drawn not to him, but to his wealth. As one of the heirs to a powerful and influential family, he had long accepted that this pattern was almost unavoidable. What Patrick wanted was far more difficult to find. He longed to fall in love with a woman who cared for him as a person, not for the name he carried or the fortune attached to it. One night, while he was at a bar, an attractive stranger approached him. Because of his appearance and composed demeanor, she mistook him for a gigolo. She made an unconventional proposal, one that immediately caught his interest and proved impossible for him to refuse.
Reborn Wife: A Mother's Fury

Reborn Wife: A Mother's Fury

The last thing I remembered was the cold, sterile operating room. A sharp pain tore through my abdomen, and my husband Ethan's chilling indifference burned into me. "Sign it, Ethan! The doctor says she's bleeding out. They need to perform the surgery to save her!" I screamed, my voice distant and desperate. But he wouldn't. He stood there, arms crossed, saying, "The doctor said there's a risk to the baby. I can't risk my daughter's life." "There won't be a daughter if I die!" I countered, agony blurring my vision. "The baby can't survive if I don't!" Then, my six-year-old stepson, Liam, holding Ethan's hand, pointed at me. "Dad, Sophia said this woman is just faking it. She said if she dies, Sophia can be my new mom and take care of you and the baby." His words hit harder than any physical pain. My own stepson, a child I'd raised since he was two, was wishing for my death. Ethan didn't scold him. He squeezed Liam' s shoulder in silent agreement as Sophia Davis, Liam's beautiful young tutor, stepped into view with a triumphant smirk. They never signed the papers. I bled out on that operating table, my last sight the three of them-Ethan, Liam, and Sophia-already looking like a happy family. A sharp gasp snapped me awake. My eyes flew open. I was in my own bed, morning sun streaming through the silk curtains. My hand went to my stomach. It was still there, a gentle, rounded swell. My baby girl was safe. I grabbed my phone. The date confirmed it: today was the day my life unraveled. The day Liam brought Sophia home. I hadn't died. I was back. The memory of my death wasn't a dream. It was a searing brand, a horrifying premonition. The betrayal, the pain, the cold finality-all of it clear as day. A wave of nausea washed over me, not from pregnancy, but from cold, hard fury. They would not kill me this time. They would not harm my daughter. This time, I would make them pay for a crime they hadn't committed yet. Just then, the doorbell rang. I heard the housekeeper, then Liam's excited chatter. My heart turned to ice. It was starting.
The Unwanted Orphan: Now A Zillionaire Heiress

The Unwanted Orphan: Now A Zillionaire Heiress

Endowed with a billion-dollar fortune, Ira Lopez, the state's top-secret foster daughter groomed from childhood, was finally assigned a set of legal guardians! Unexpectedly, she was sent away by three families in a row, and every social kinship training ended in total failure. It was not until the Vaughn family adopted her that the poor little Ira was showered with endless money day and night by her adoptive parents, who put on elaborate displays of doting parental affection for her. Envious people lost their minds and spread vicious rumors: "Ira Lopez has no real skills at all-she's just faking misfortune to swindle the Vaughns!" Yet the very next day, a president of an Ivy League university greeted her personally: "Professor Ira, your laboratory is fully furnished and ready for use." The richest tycoon knelt down and held out a contract: "Boss, our annual financial report shows a 300% surge in profits!" The international hacker alliance erupted in panic online: "Our supreme leader! If you don't log back on soon, the global financial systems will collapse!" As Ira's countless hidden identities were exposed one after another and the entire internet went wild, Barrett Ferguson, the notoriously cold, ruthless elite newcomer of the capital city, suddenly pinned her against a wall. He brushed the pad of his thumb gently over her lips and drawled, "Mrs. Ferguson, had your fun? It's time to come home and bear our children." Ira's ear tips blushed bright red as she stammered, "I-I don't want to have kids!" The man let out a low chuckle, pulled out the world's one-of-a-kind supreme black card, and pressed it into her palm: "Give me one child, and I'll gift you a private island."
Drowning In Betrayal: Watch Me Shine Now

Drowning In Betrayal: Watch Me Shine Now

I was lying in the emergency room with acute gastroenteritis on my birthday, but my mother ordered me to rip out my IV needle. She threatened to freeze all my accounts if I didn't show up to my adopted sister's high-society matchmaking party. When I arrived, dragging my weak body, I caught my fiancé Julio protecting his mistress. Worse, my adopted sister Billie framed me for stealing my own grandmother's heirloom earrings just to play the victim in front of New York's elite. I refused to be their stepping stone and projected the evidence of Julio's affair on the massive ballroom screen. In a rage, my father cursed me, and my mother slapped me across the face so hard my mouth bled. During the ensuing physical struggle, my adopted sister, the mistress, and I all plunged into the freezing outdoor swimming pool. My fiancé desperately swam to save his mistress, while my own brother rushed to pull my adopted sister above the water. I stopped kicking and let my heavy, soaked clothes pull me down to the bottom of the black pool. Why did my own flesh and blood treat me like garbage? After a mysterious bodyguard pulled me from the water, I watched my family frantically wrap the other two women in warm blankets. I didn't shed a single tear. "I am no longer a part of this family. I never want to see any of you again." I publicly canceled the engagement, turned my back on the wealthy estate, and walked away into the freezing winter night.
The Ruby Shackle: Bound To The Billionaire

The Ruby Shackle: Bound To The Billionaire

I’m a CIA operative known as "The Auditor," and for months, I’ve played the role of a pathetic, abused ward in Basil Dean’s mansion. My mission was simple: gather intel on a paranoid billionaire while pretending to be a girl who flinches at her own shadow and knows nothing of the world. The balance shattered when Basil found a photo of me smiling at a local mechanic. He didn't just get angry; he dragged me into his soundproof vault, his leather-gloved thumb pressing into my carotid artery to feel the frantic, terrified thrum of my heart. He tagged me with a ruby bracelet—a high-tech tracking device that reported my GPS and biometrics to his phone every second. His stepsister, Corine, smelled blood in the water, accusing me of theft while Basil watched my heart rate spike on his screen like a lab rat in a cage. I was trapped in a gilded nightmare, forced to scrub floors and endure his predatory stares while a fifty-thousand-dollar shackle recorded my every breath. I couldn't tell if he was a grieving recluse or a shark playing with his food, but every time my signal dropped, he was there, looming in the shadows, waiting for me to slip up. I was drowning in a game where the rules changed every time I tried to fight back, and the agency was starting to think I’d turned. To end the charade, I handed the bracelet back to him in front of the entire kitchen staff, a public rejection of his twisted ownership. Basil didn't blink; he took a heavy meat mallet and smashed the ruby to dust right in front of me before making a phone call that turned my mission into a death trap. "Get the prenup ready," he hissed, his eyes burning with a terrifying, sane obsession. "I'm marrying her."
A Life Built on Their Lies

A Life Built on Their Lies

The phone call came at 7 PM on New Year' s Eve. My parents, struggling artists, were missing our countdown again for a "last-minute commission." I, Olivia, stared at a sad frozen pizza, preparing for another lonely night. But when I went to bring them dinner at their studio, I saw something that made my world tilt: a luxury SUV, my father in a tailored suit, my mother in a stunning gown, and a handsome boy my age. They laughed, a perfect, happy family heading into the city's most expensive restaurant. When I called out, their smiles vanished, replaced by panic. "What are you doing here?" my mother snapped. The boy, Julian, looked at my cheap clothes with disdain. "No one, Julian, just a… distant relative," my mother quickly said, shielding him from me. My father gave me a hard look. "Go home, Olivia. We' ll talk later." They walked away, leaving me on the cold pavement, the festive sounds from the restaurant mocking my pain. Back in the apartment, tears streaming down my face, I tore the place apart, desperate for answers. I found a hidden compartment in a wooden box: property deeds for luxury condos, stock certificates, and contracts for art sales worth millions. My parents weren't poor; they were immensely rich. They treated Julian with the love and pride I had always craved, while I was their shameful secret, their "distant relative." How could they? All my life, I had sacrificed everything, believing I was helping them escape poverty. My existence was a calculated charade. The truth was inescapable. The next morning, I heard my mother whispering on the phone to Julian: "Don' t worry about her. She doesn' t suspect a thing. We' ll keep it a secret, just like we always have. It' s for your own good, sweetheart." Their entire production, designed to keep me in a cage, was for his benefit. I had to get out.