Modern Books for Women
Bestsellers Ongoing Completed
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Trapped In His Cruel Six Year Contract
Essie sold herself to ruthless billionaire Kieran Cortez on a six-year contract just to pay for her paralyzed brother's staggering medical bills. But the morning Kieran’s face was plastered on the front page announcing his engagement to a wealthy heiress, he violently refused to let Essie go. When she quietly asked if their contract was over, he trapped her against the marble counter. "You don't have the right to call this off. It would be a shame if Charles lost his spot in the medical trial." Trapped, Essie endured his brutal, punishing kisses in hidden corners, terrified of being discovered by his new fiancée, who worked as a doctor at her hospital. But the ultimate betrayal came from home. When her brother saw the dark, violent bruises Kieran had deliberately left on her neck, he didn't care about her sacrifices. He threw scalding coffee on her burned hand. "You disgusting whore! I would rather die than use the dirty money you make spreading your legs!" Even Kieran's fiancée investigated her finances, cornering her to smugly warn her to know her place as a lowly sugar baby. Essie had sacrificed her dignity, her body, and her soul to keep her brother alive, only to be treated like disposable trash by the man who owned her and despised by the family she saved. Why did her endless sacrifices only buy her a suffocating, inescapable hell? Staring at the phone screen flashing with Kieran’s demand to be at his penthouse by eight, a dead calmness finally washed over her. She held down the power button until the screen went black. Even if his wrath destroyed her tomorrow, tonight, she was taking her life back./1/100496/coverorgin.jpg?v=c5cb6898ea82160755e6bbb1255517a9&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Love's Sweetest Surprise: From Brokenhearted To Billionaire's Wife
For five years, I believed I was living in a perfect marriage, only to discover it was all a sham! I discovered that my husband was coveting my bone marrow for his mistress! Right in front of me, he sent her flirtatious messages. To make matters worse, he even brought her into the company to steal my work! I finally understood, he never loved me. I stopped pretending, collected evidence of his infidelity, and reclaimed the research he had stolen from me. I signed the divorce papers and left without looking back. He thought I was just throwing a tantrum and would eventually return. But when we met again, I was holding the hand of a globally renowned tycoon, draped in a wedding dress and grinning with confidence. My ex-husband's eyes were red with regret. "Come back to me!" But my new groom wrapped his arm around my waist, and chuckled dismissively, "Get the hell out of here! She's mine now."/1/110554/coverorgin.jpg?v=689c71771d84d31f96431fd6771ee8c6&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Irresistible Chains: I Sold Myself To My Guardian Devil
Eight years ago, Rosalyn sold herself for money, and Nathan became her first and only client. Now, with her wedding approaching, her own fiancé sent her back to the same man. What should have been one more humiliating transaction dragged her into Nathan's dangerous orbit again-an orbit he had no intention of letting her escape. As her fiancé cheated and schemed, Nathan crushed him in secret. When rumors tore at her name, he spent freely to protect her. But just when he reached for forever, Rosalyn walked away, leaving behind a truth written in blood, loss, and the child they never got to keep./1/101145/coverorgin.jpg?v=65f6b81967530d9e1bbb7822b91f59fb&imageMogr2/format/webp)
When Trust Became a Poisoned Blade
My husband told me to hide away in our cabin after my daughter fell into a coma. He said he would handle the media storm and the plagiarism accusations against me. I trusted him. Two years later, I saw my best friend on a Times Square billboard, accepting an award for my art, with my husband cheering her on in the crowd. Overhearing their celebration, I learned the horrifying truth: they orchestrated my daughter's "accident," stole my life's work, and my husband was planning to pull my daughter's life support. He thought he had me trapped, threatening our daughter's life to force my silence. He even made me sign a divorce agreement, thinking he was stripping me of everything. What he didn't know was that my lawyer brother had already filed a different set of papers. And I had just walked away with everything./0/86545/coverorgin.jpg?v=20260106211905&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Discarded Husband, Unseen Genius
The Grand Hyatt ballroom glittered with the success of SmithTech's IPO, a company I, Alex Chase, had secretly poured three years of my life into, building its unbreachable cybersecurity. As my wife, Sarah Smith, the celebrated CEO, took the stage, her eyes met mine, chillingly. Then, the hammer fell. "It' s also a night for new beginnings. For cutting away dead weight," she announced, her gaze fixed on me, the "live-in husband." Sarah's assistant, Mark Johnson, smugly presented my termination letter. My "courtesy position" in IT was revoked, my performance "lacking." The cameras, once focused on her triumph, now devoured my public humiliation. Sarah then ordered the destruction of my simple black laptop, calling it "junk," an "eyesore." I watched in silent horror as Mark gleefully smashed it to pieces, scattering the "true core of SmithTech' s security"-my life's work-across the marble floor. They didn't see the truth. They only saw a pathetic husband, discarded. How could they be so blind? This wasn't just a laptop; it was the master key, the quantum core that authenticated their entire system. Without it, SmithTech isn't just vulnerable; it's doomed. Their billions mean nothing. The system I built, the fortress they so carelessly destroyed, will now turn against them. As I walked out into the cool night, leaving behind the laughter and the wreckage, I smiled. My name online wasn't Alex Chase; it was Hades. And their public debut? It just became their public execution. The clock was ticking./0/81354/coverorgin.jpg?v=20260106195315&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Orchid's Dying Breath
Ethan swirled his whiskey, convinced, "Relationships, marriage, it's all a game, and the one who cares less, wins." He' d often said it, casually dismissing his wife, Chloe, and believing she loved him too much to ever leave. Then came Mark's hushed words, cutting through the bar's noise like a knife: "She's dead, Ethan." Dead? Ethan laughed, a harsh, unnatural sound, certain it was a twisted prank. Chloe was just at Olivia's, throwing a tantrum, he' d even mocked her "vacation" in a text. He meticulously cleaned, cooked her favorite meal, and replaced her drooping orchid, waiting for her triumphant return. But the food grew cold, the silence deafening, as his delusion deepened. Then, Mr. and Mrs. Peterson stood at his door, their faces etched with a grief so profound it shattered his constructed reality. "She is dead, Ethan!" Mr. Peterson roared, "Dead because of you! You killed her spirit long before that car ever touched her!" Ethan swayed, his mind reeling. Dead? But how? Why couldn't he remember? Why did everyone look at him with such hatred, such pity? Was he truly capable of something so monstrous that his mind had simply erased it? A blinding headache pulsed behind his eyes, a terrifying void in his memory threatening to swallow him whole. As the ceramic bird Chloe made finally fell from his numb fingers, the dam in Ethan' s mind broke. Memories, cold and brutal, flooded in: ignoring her calls during a storm, prioritizing a deal over her safety, her body under a white sheet, his blank stare at her funeral. Months later, a diagnosis came: glioblastoma. The doctor offered surgery, but warned it could erase his traumatic past. "I won't forget her," he rasped, refusing the memory-erasing procedure. He would cling to the pain, a constant reminder of the woman he destroyed, now the only thing left of her he deserved./0/94332/coverorgin.jpg?v=20260106214352&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Left For Dead, I Rise Again
My husband left me to die in a car wreck. When I survived and confronted his mistress, he fractured my skull. But that wasn't the worst thing he did. After his mistress framed me for an injury, he cornered me in a hospital hallway. He took my right hand-the one I used to be a brilliant architect-and deliberately broke it, ending my career. He thought he had destroyed my future. He had no idea he had just declared war./0/37878/coverorgin.jpg?v=5a631f35c62dda368d06ea07dc60cc5b&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Bye, My Bossy Husband
"You never know what you have until you lose it!" This was the case for Samuel who despised his wife throughout their marriage. Tessa gave her all to Samuel. But what did he do? He treated her like a useless rag. In his eyes, she was selfish, unscrupulous, and disgusting. He wanted to be away from her at all times. He was happy to divorce her. However, his happiness didn't last. He soon realized that he had let go of a jewel of inestimable value. By this time, Tessa was already doing well for herself. "Tessa love, I know I was such a jerk, but I have learned my lessons. Give me another chance," Samuel begged with teary eyes. "Ha-ha! You are a comedian, Samuel. Weren't you always disgusted with me? What changed now?" Tessa sneered, eyeing him. "I changed, my love. I became a better man. Please take me back. I won't stop until you agree." With her eyes shooting lasers, Tessa yelled, "Get the hell out of my sight! I don't want to ever see you again!"/0/82652/coverorgin.jpg?v=92796005809bb188053a1aad5b501bc8&imageMogr2/format/webp)
My Wife, The Killer's Keeper
My life was simple, if not exactly thrilling. An ex-Army Ranger, now a mechanic, living with my CEO wife, Cassie, in a world miles from my own. Then the call came, shattering everything: my mother, an intrepid investigative journalist, brutally murdered, dismembered, her eyes gouged out, her tongue cut. The police couldn't find a lead until security footage revealed the custom-engraved hunting knife – and then, I saw it, advertised for auction by my own wife's company. My wife, Cassie, bought the very weapon for her charismatic executive assistant, Marcus Vance – the man my mother had been investigating. He taunted me with vivid details of her torture, laughing as he had me beaten, then imprisoned in our home' s steel-reinforced panic room, my own wife convinced I was simply 'unstable.' Just when I thought it couldn't get worse, Marcus brought in an urn. My mother' s ashes, he casually explained, would make a 'strong, durable, permanent' foundation for our driveway. The ultimate desecration, a final, horrifying insult that crushed me. How could my life, my family, have fallen to such depravity? But in that moment of absolute despair, something shifted. A Ranger doesn' t break. I escaped, battered and bleeding, making a desperate pilgrimage to Washington D.C. There, at the steps of the Department of Justice, I collapsed, but not before leaving my father' s Medal of Honor and a bloody handprint – a silent, defiant cry for justice against the monsters in my own home./0/73243/coverorgin.jpg?v=20250408111835&imageMogr2/format/webp)
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DEAD OR ALIVE
He swore to love her. He vowed to destroy her. She ran to escape him. But the past won't let her go. Nyra thought leaving Kael would set her free, but when her husband, a powerful and ruthless lawyer, paints her as unstable and tries to take their children.away, she realizes escape is just the beginning. Hunted and betrayed, she uncovers secrets that could destroy him. But every truth comes with a price, and someone is willing to silence her, permanently. With danger closing in, will she expose Kael before he finds her first?/0/99848/coverorgin.jpg?v=687bae4729138509498c5d98d7357f85&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Barren Wife's Cold Hearted Revenge
For eight years, I endured seven miscarriages, clinging to the hope of starting a family with my husband, Joshua. Then I overheard the truth. He and my adoptive sister, Harlow, had orchestrated every loss. They needed the unique stem cells from my miscarriages to cure their own secret child. My body was just an incubator for their twisted plan. After the eighth miscarriage, they left me barren, my womb removed to save my life. They stole my children, my future, and my ability to ever be a mother. They thought I was a broken, naive princess. They had no idea they had just created a queen bent on revenge. Now, I'm back. And I will burn their empire to the ground, leaving them with nothing but the ashes of their betrayal./1/109906/coverorgin.jpg?v=eed37b7cb412355c2de9b36650866a6d&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Sold To The Shadow King: Reborn Revenge
My husband, Hansford Burris, told me tonight was the most important night of his campaign. He handed me a glass of champagne, his face a perfect mask of concern, telling me to drink up so I could relax before meeting the "Shadow King" of D.C. who could secure his political future. I didn't know the golden liquid was laced with a high-dose sedative and hallucinogens. He hadn't brought me to this luxury hotel to celebrate; he had brought me here to be sold, trading my body to a stranger in exchange for a seat of power. In my past life, I trusted him. I drank the poison, woke up shattered, and spent the next five years being tormented by his abusive mother and publicly replaced by his mistress. I was eventually cornered and murdered by the very man I had supported with my family’s fortune, my death staged as a tragic accident to gain him sympathy votes. To him, I wasn't a wife or a partner. I was just an "asset" with a shelf life, a merchant’s good to be traded away. As the life left my body, I couldn't understand how the man who promised to love me forever could watch me choke without a hint of regret. Opening my eyes again, I was back in the St. Regis Hotel on October 14th, exactly five years ago. Hansford was standing there in his polished Armani suit, extending the same glass of drugged champagne toward me. "Gina, darling? Are you alright? Here. Drink this. It will help you relax." Looking at his handsome, lying face, I felt a cold clarity wash over me. I wasn't the naive rabbit he remembered. I took the glass, but I didn't swallow a single drop. This time, I was going to burn his world to the ground./1/100497/coverorgin.jpg?v=4bd58701ffa9594f2ec942042ebd5ead&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Bottom Line: His Suffering
My husband Gabriel's affair with his young protégée, Kaia, had already cost me everything. Our marriage was a hollow shell, and his cruelty had even led to the miscarriage of our child, leaving me broken. But the day he defended Kaia by slapping my ten-year-old niece, Bea, so hard he ruptured her eardrum, something inside me finally snapped for good. He stood over her small, unconscious body and screamed, "She deserved it!" He had already financially ruined my brother and now had brutalized a child-all to protect his mistress. The man I had loved for sixteen years was a monster. All the pain and grief I'd carried for so long burned away, leaving only cold, hard resolve. He expected tears. He expected hysterics. Instead, when I found him at the hospital, I walked straight up to him and slapped him across the face. "My family is my bottom line, Gabriel," I said, my voice dangerously calm. "You crossed it. And now, I will make you suffer."/0/85897/coverorgin.jpg?v=f6e101428962ee6b314d7fb79f23ff62&imageMogr2/format/webp)
No More Handyman: His Last Stand
For three years, I poured my soul into Innovate, building Brittany' s startup from the ground up as her lead engineer and live-in boyfriend. I fixed her code, her leaky faucet, and every problem in her life, while she paid me a pittance, treating me like a glorified handyman. But at her success party, watching her beam at her ex-boyfriend Dylan, unveiled as the new "visionary," something inside me snapped. Then came the ultimate insult: demotion to Dylan' s assistant, his snakeskin boots propped on MY desk, MY awards tossed in a dusty box. The years of exploitation culminated in a single, burning question: how could someone I gave everything to treat me with such utter contempt? No more. I handed her my resignation, a meticulously itemized invoice for eighty-seven thousand dollars of unpaid work, and played a recording of her own words. "Forty-eight hours, Brittany," I said, pocketing my phone. "The clock is ticking." That night, I walked out of her apartment for good, the trash bag holding her memories of me thudding satisfyingly down the chute. This wasn' t just an exit; it was a declaration of war./0/86546/coverorgin.jpg?v=c1f5f4a615ecb1143b0c14d824723219&imageMogr2/format/webp)
His Penny-Pinching, My Power
The searing pain from my C-section was nothing compared to the shock of my husband' s first words. "Did the doctor give you the final bill? The C-section costs more. You need to cover it." I had just brought our daughter, Lily, into the world, a difficult birth that required emergency surgery to save her life. Yet, for Tom, it was simply an "extra cost" for my body. This was his idea of "AA parenting"-Active and Accountable, splitting every child-related expense down the middle. What I thought was a progressive vision of equality quickly morphed into a financial battlefield where every diaper, every ounce of formula, became an itemized debt. When we moved into my parents' house for recovery, hoping for support, Tom saw only a "cost-saving opportunity." He ate their food, used their electricity, and never offered a dime, all while sending me spreadsheets for Lily' s pacifier and baby lotion. He never changed a diaper. He never comforted his crying daughter. He just watched TV, claiming a "long day." It became agonizingly clear that in his eyes, he was merely a "financial partner" in a project he was already losing interest in. The final straw came when I overheard a neighbor revealing his true feelings: he' d wanted a boy, because it would be "simpler, cheaper in the long run." His penny-pinching wasn' t about equality; it was about the supposed "lesser investment" of a daughter. So, when he and his mother publicly shamed me on social media, accusing me of mental instability, I didn't hold back. I posted screenshots of his vile texts, exposing his calculated cruelty to the entire neighborhood. I was done being the silent victim. I was going to fight back, and I was going to win./0/71946/coverorgin.jpg?v=9776cd96378c6f181ffd9604f08d8369&imageMogr2/format/webp)
I Became His Contract Wife, But He Wants Forever
Desperate to handle her grandmother's towering medical bills, Gianna agreed to a contract marriage with Tristan, the enigmatic man she'd once shared a one-night stand with. She assumed they'd fulfill each other's needs and dissolve the arrangement once the terms expired. Unbeknownst to Gianna, this marriage was a dream Tristan had clung to for ten relentless years. Certain she was just filling someone else's role, Gianna prepared to leave when that other woman returned. But Tristan, his eyes burning with unspoken emotion, seized her trembling hand and declared, "You're mine. Now and always."/1/120289/coverorgin.jpg?v=ed8a1aebbfa86a5bf3e5a0e84ac1a9a9&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Mortician's Contract Marriage
The Hayes family took me in, raised me, and I owed them everything. For fourteen years, I repaid that debt by silently working as a mortician and agreeing to marry their insufferable son. Until I heard the truth. To him, I was a "freak who smells like death." Their ‘gratitude’ was a plan to steal my inheritance. They thought they had me trapped. But my grandfather's will only said I had to be married. It didn’t say to whom. I traded their son for a man who could buy and sell their entire world a hundred times over. The cold, untouchable Caden Blankenship. They wanted my fortune? Too bad. Now, I’m about to inherit his./0/28470/coverorgin.jpg?v=20220607161203&imageMogr2/format/webp)
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