Modern Books for Women
Bestsellers Ongoing Completed
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No Divorce, Only Widowhood: His Possession
I went to The Ivy to return a box of scripts and hoodies, hoping to finally bury my past with movie star Harrison Knox. I just wanted to be a good wife to Julian Sterling and keep my family’s business merger intact. But Harrison had other plans. He staged a paparazzi ambush, pulling me into a fake embrace just as the cameras flashed. By the time I got home to our Bel Air estate, the headline "Harrison Knox Heartbroken? Tearful Reunion with Serena Vance" was already trending worldwide. The fallout was brutal. My father called, roaring that the stock was in freefall and threatening to stop my mother’s medical payments if I didn't keep Julian happy. My movie funding was pulled, leaving me to pawn my Birkin bags just to pay my staff. Even worse, Julian’s cold indifference turned into a sharp, quiet rage. He heard me tell a friend that our marriage felt like a transaction, and his response was to toss a black Centurion card at my feet like I was something he’d bought at an auction. I was trapped between a narcissist who wanted to use my trauma for his next script and a father who saw me as nothing but a bargaining chip. Even Julian, the man who secretly bought my movie rights through a shell company to protect me, believed I was still screaming my ex's name in my sleep. When my family finally demanded I lie and accuse Julian of domestic abuse to secure a settlement, I realized I had nothing left to lose. I walked away from the Vance name, deleted every memory of Harrison, and stood at the edge of the Pacific Ocean ready to let the tide take me. But Julian didn't come for a divorce. He found me in the dark, his coat heavy on my shoulders and his eyes burning with a possessive fire. "There is no divorce in the Sterling family," he whispered against my ear. "There is only widowhood. You are mine, Serena, until one of us is in the ground."/0/85250/coverorgin.jpg?v=79f328435558156a570dbab23c6bf0a2&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Crowned By Brilliance: Her Revenge Starts Now
Forced out of a mental hospital by her family, Nicole was made to marry Aidan-reputed to be disabled-in her sister's place. The public ridiculed their union: a so-called lunatic and a cripple. What they didn't know was that Nicole had a sharp mind, countless talents, and secret identities. High society sneered at her unruly behavior, but Aidan always took her side. "My wife is too fragile to hurt anyone," he'd say. But soon- "Sir, your wife destroyed someone's house!" "Let her." "Sir, your wife ran away!" He arrived at the airport with two adorable kids in tow, pleading, "Sweetheart, come back. You can punish me however you want." Nicole froze. Wait-where did these two adorable little troublemakers come from?/1/113878/coverorgin.jpg?v=bab2b8cb2f8f00cfaf18ef8983b5b958&imageMogr2/format/webp)
You Cannot Afford Your Divorced Wife Now
Adeline had just endured the agonizing pain of giving birth to her daughter. But when she woke up, the bassinet beside her hospital bed was completely empty. Her husband, Jeremey, stood at the foot of the bed with his female friend, Hayden, tossing divorce and sole custody papers onto her lap. "You're leaving. And she's staying," Jeremey said coldly. He accused Adeline of being a jealous monster, claiming she had poisoned Hayden's tea and permanently destroyed Hayden's chances of ever having children. Using a manipulated security video as blackmail, Jeremey forced Adeline to sign away her parental rights to protect her newborn from being branded the daughter of a convicted felon. Stripped of her assets and her dignity, she was thrown out of the Castillo estate and exiled to a nowhere town, forced to leave her baby in the hands of the very woman who framed her. The despair of having her child stolen by such a vicious lie nearly broke her soul. How could the man she loved be so utterly blind? Three years later, the grand doors of the Castillo ballroom swung open at her daughter's lavish fourth birthday party. Adeline stepped in, wearing a scarlet gown and a mocking smile, backed by the untouchable Garrett family. She was no longer the weak, discarded wife. The war to ruin them and take her daughter back had just begun./0/38632/coverorgin.jpg?v=2d1081c95cddeb3873b87013222b8f28&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Secrets Of His Amazing Ex-wife
"Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned!" The first thing Brenda did after divorcing Miguel was to seduce his arch-rival and become his fiancée. Brenda rubbed her new relationship in her ex-husband's face. She made sure to get on his nerves because of how he treated her while they were married. Miguel couldn't catch a break from her constant taunting. While she came at him for everything he got, her secret identities were exposed one after the other. She's the world's most famous pianist? The well-known Designer Elan? And also the mysterious investor? How can one person be so excellent? Unbelievable! Miguel was shocked to the bone to find out that he didn't know all these about her before now. Brenda wasn't a leech like he always thought. She was his dream woman. Could he get her back? Unbeknown to Miguel, another shocker was waiting for him.../0/85876/coverorgin.jpg?v=3aa912d3e257cbbcfc78e391785e390d&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Wife He Tried To Erase
My life was a carefully constructed ballet of order and purpose. As an ER doctor, I thrived in controlled chaos, with a loving husband, Mark, a rising star in the police force, and a seemingly ordinary life. Then, one volunteering shift at a free clinic shattered everything. I was brutally attacked, injected with a mysterious virus, my very being violated by a gang. But the real horror began when I discovered the footage-a humiliating video of my assault, captured and uploaded by my own stepson, Kevin. My career, my reputation, everything I had built, crumbled overnight, reduced to internet fodder. How could this happen? Why would Kevin, the boy I tried to love, betray me so cruelly? The pain was a physical ache, deepened by the bizarre, almost theatrical sympathy from Mark, who swore he' d find my attackers. The truth unfurled with sickening clarity: it wasn't random violence. Mark had orchestrated my assault, weaponizing a virus and manipulating his son to pave the way for his ex-wife, Sarah, to return. My loving husband had tried to erase me. The call to my former mentor at the FBI, Dr. O' Connell, was my only hope./0/11725/coverorgin.jpg?v=d10bce29c35628c1f66c5e0d7844f3a4&imageMogr2/format/webp)
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His Betrayal, My Unborn Child
The sterile white of the hospital waiting room was a grim backdrop to my sister Jessica' s desperate pleas; her son, Ethan, was dying, and my eight-year-old Lily was the only match for a kidney. I refused, unwilling to risk my daughter' s life, but my husband Mark, seemingly my protector, assured me he' d handle it, his words a comforting balm. The next day, Lily vanished from our secure backyard as if swallowed by thin air, plunging me into a suffocating panic that clawed at my chest. Mark, my supposed rock, mobilized his endless resources, fueling our desperate search with promises of justice. Days blurred into weeks of relentless searching, handing out flyers with Lily' s smiling face, each call a jolt of terrifying, empty hope, until the unspeakable happened: her small, broken body was found in a waste pit on the city' s outskirts. My world imploded, a black hole of grief and confusion, magnified by Mark' s seemingly shared devastation and vows to find the monster responsible, leaving me broken, wondering how such evil could touch our perfect lives. But the monster was closer than I imagined; five months pregnant with our "new hope," I stumbled upon a donor consent form for Lily' s kidney, signed by Mark the day before her disappearance, revealing a chilling truth: my husband orchestrated her death, and my unborn child was merely a spare part in his twisted scheme, igniting a cold fury that would fuel my terrifying path to justice./1/116225/coverorgin.jpg?v=5a2f47d1d43c41cdeba896ee19c05656&imageMogr2/format/webp)
His Fake Wife Is A Genius Hacker
I was married to the city's celebrated FBI hero, Harrison Phelps. But when I was bleeding out on our floor from a miscarriage, he stepped right over me to attend a welcome-home party for his female partner, Brooke. "It’s not a baby yet. It’s just a clump of cells." He delivered those cold words and walked out the door. Later, during a live-broadcast bank hostage crisis, both Brooke and I were held at gunpoint. The hijackers made him choose one to live. Without hesitation, he chose Brooke, declaring her a "national asset," and left me to take a bullet to the neck. I barely survived the surgery, only to discover that our six-year marriage was a complete sham—he had never even legally filed the paperwork. He had also been intercepting my messages for years, systematically isolating me from my only brother. I had given up my brilliant career to be his obedient wife, only to realize I was nothing but a disposable pawn. Digging deeper, I uncovered an even more horrifying truth: Brooke's incompetence had caused my mother's death years ago, and Harrison had used his power to cover it up. Having narrowly escaped death, my grief was completely burned away by a cold, absolute hatred. I dragged out the sealed, dust-covered case containing my old digital arsenal. Under my old hacker alias "Pandora," I calmly began to dismantle the FBI hero's life, piece by piece./1/102615/coverorgin.jpg?v=20260106222434&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Lies, Betrayal, And The Baby I Hid Away
I stepped into our penthouse for my baby shower, caressing my eight-month bump, expecting balloons and laughter. But instead of joy, I found my husband, Michael, cradling a newborn that wasn't ours. Beside him sat his assistant, Serena, looking far too comfortable. Michael looked me dead in the eye, his expression cold and flat, and introduced the infant as his firstborn son. They didn't apologize. Instead, Serena mocked my high-risk pregnancy, calling me a mere "incubator" for the spare heir. When I demanded they leave, Serena shoved me. I hit the floor hard, screaming in agony as pain ripped through my belly. But Michael didn't help me. He stepped over my convulsing body to comfort her, accusing me of being dramatic. He walked out with his new family, leaving me bleeding alone on the nursery floor. Lying in the hospital later, I overheard Michael on the phone. He wasn't worried. He laughed, revealing his plan to use my family's connections for his IPO before divorcing me and taking full custody of my child. He didn't love me. He only wanted the heir. That was the moment the old Olivia died. I knew I had to deny him the only thing he truly wanted. I wiped my tears, touched my stomach where my son was still kicking, and made a decision that would sever us forever. I told my lawyer to deliver a simple message to Michael. "Tell him the baby didn't make it."/1/117633/coverorgin.jpg?v=0ea7bc41efdaac22a82a1778a526fee9&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Reborn To Ruin My Billionaire Ex-Husband
Seraphina was locked in a sterile psychiatric facility, treated as a compliant, living blood bag for her husband's mistress, Lila. But today, Lila walked in with a Cartier bracelet and a newspaper, revealing that Slade had orchestrated the complete ruin of Seraphina's family. Slade had used Seraphina's pillow talk to bankrupt her father's company. He tampered with her brother's brakes, framed her other brother for insider trading, and arranged the fatal car crash that killed her mother. Their entire marriage was a meticulously crafted lie to harvest her rare Rh-negative O-type blood to keep Lila and her unborn baby healthy. When Seraphina lunged at her in agonizing realization, Lila simply smiled and staged a fake attack. She watched helplessly as the nurses rushed in and injected her with a lethal sedative. As her heart monitor flatlined, she stared at the white ceiling, her soul consumed by regret and pure hatred. She had defied her loving family for a monster who slaughtered them all. She vowed to the darkness that if there was any justice, she would strip them of everything and make them beg for a death that would never come. Gasping for air, Seraphina opened her eyes. She was back ten years ago, sitting in a luxury hospital room, right as the nurse approached with a needle for Lila's very first blood donation. This time, she smashed the tray to the floor. "Under federal law, drawing my blood without explicit consent is assault." In this life, she would be the butcher./1/115443/coverorgin.jpg?v=9b725cf97c85ae1bfb14c5c78efb19dd&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Blackmailed Into The Ruthless Tycoon's Bed
Adaline Poole thought she had escaped her family's toxic corporate grip by moving to London and adopting a stray cat named Monty. But when she returns to her empty apartment, her father delivers a chilling ultimatum: he has kidnapped the cat and will euthanize it by morning unless she accepts an arranged marriage with Barron Cooke, a notoriously elusive billionaire. Her entire family becomes complicit in her sale. Her mother demands she secure their elite status, and her brother secretly spies on her social media to feed Barron her every move. Horrified to discover Barron is a thirty-three-year-old "fossil" twelve years her senior, Adaline resorts to sabotage. She goes to a Soho club, takes a scandalous photo with a frat boy, and sends it to the old billionaire to disgust him into canceling their upcoming dinner. But her rebellion backfires horribly when the frat boy spikes her drink with a powerful narcotic. As her body burns with a terrifying, feverish heat, she collapses in a dark corridor. Stripped of her phone and betrayed by her bloodline, she is left utterly defenseless as a predator approaches to drag her away. Suddenly, the heavy fire door is kicked open by a towering, terrifyingly handsome stranger who effortlessly neutralizes her attacker. "Please... help me," Adaline begs, deliriously throwing her burning body into his arms. She has absolutely no idea that the handsome savior she is clinging to is Barron Cooke himself./0/81027/coverorgin.jpg?v=1572121ce64e0b869de73072ccaf60f9&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Unwanted Daughter's Reckoning
I woke up staring at the familiar water-stained ceiling of my teenage bedroom. My SAT scores and a local community college acceptance letter sat on my desk, marking the day I was supposed to fill out college applications. Just weeks after high school graduation, this was it. Except, it wasn't just a day. It was the day. The starting point of a previous life filled with relentless hunger, brutal beatings, and my family' s chilling neglect. A life that led, eventually, to my agonizing death. I remembered everything: my mother Brenda' s venomous hate, my father David' s chilling indifference, and my brother Kevin' s endless demands. I remembered the pregnancy, my mother's deliberate cruelty, letting me bleed out until it was too late. I died. A loud bang on the door shattered the quiet. "Sarah! Get those damn applications filled out!" Brenda's voice, a dreadful screech, tried to drag me back into the nightmare. The old fear coiled, sharp and cold, but the memory of my death and lost child burned hotter. Not this time. I would not live that life again. Unsteady on my feet, I walked to the door. "I'm not going to community college," I declared, my voice surprisingly steady. "I'm applying to a four-year university. A good one. Far away." This time, I would save myself./1/102459/coverorgin.jpg?v=18837f26674d1271ead63c27c2004d24&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Thousand-Day Streak of Lies
For ten years, I believed my long-distance relationship with my architect boyfriend, Griffith, was unbreakable. I was building a successful career, convinced our love was the one constant I could count on. That illusion shattered the day I saw his phone. A thousand-day Snapchat streak wasn't with me. It was with his intern, a girl he called Kallie Sunshine. His apology was a cold, duty-bound marriage proposal, followed by him taking the fall for her career-ending mistake at his firm. In the middle of the chaotic company lobby, as he was sacrificing everything for her, she delivered the final blow. "I'm pregnant with his baby!" she shrieked, a triumphant smirk on her face. "And you're just a bitter old hag who couldn't keep her man!" Ten years of my life, my love, my future-all reduced to a humiliating public spectacle. He chose to protect his "little muse" while I was just collateral damage. I slapped his face, threw the ring at his feet, and walked away. This time, I wasn't just going back to my apartment. I was leaving the country for good./0/56623/coverorgin.jpg?v=dd2a993b2f1b96378143c491a7dbbaf4&imageMogr2/format/webp)
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Deceived, Disowned, And Suddenly Filthy Rich
"Cast out when the true heiress appeared, Eleanor was shoved back into her birth parents' cramped slum apartment and slapped with a bill for millions. Undaunted, she exposed her hidden identities and vowed to flip their fate. First, she gifted her swindled eldest brother a trillion-dollar conglomerate. Next, she wiped every smear on her canceled actor brother, shoving him to stardom. Then, she defended her youngest brother's design integrity. As wealth and fame piled up, the ""real"" heiress stormed back into her life, stirring chaos. But Eleanor effortlessly climbed to the top of the global wealth rankings. But how could she shake off that relentless, crazed mafia boss who was hot on her trail?!"/0/80871/coverorgin.jpg?v=b64a675cb5720f00231fa9c0840be423&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Man They Underpaid
Alex Miller had dedicated eight years to Sterling Creative Solutions. Eight years of pouring his talent into the agency, faithfully earning a modest three thousand dollars a month. He was the bedrock, making campaigns work, building client trust. All he wanted was a fair raise. His boss, Vicky, always dismissed his requests, claiming the market was "terrible." Then, a job ad blindsided him: Sterling Creative was hiring a "Creative Intern" for $30,000 a month – ten times his salary. A week later, Vicky’s smirking nephew, Bryce, arrived to claim that role… and Alex’s very own desk. Alex found himself exiled to a hot, noisy corner by the server room, ordered to "train his replacement." The humiliation was constant. Bryce was incompetent, botching client calls, yet Vicky doted on him, even promoting him to "Lead Strategist" after just two weeks. When Bryce infuriated their biggest client, Vicky snapped at Alex: "This is *your* responsibility." For his eight years of loyal service, Alex received a single, insulting hundred-dollar bill. The knot in his stomach tightened into a vise. Eight years of dedication, now reduced to training an overpaid, talentless nepo-baby. Every day was a fresh assault on his dignity. But it was Vicky’s final, bizarre, and venomous accusation – implying he'd "mooned over her" – that snapped something inside him. The misplaced loyalty, the years of swallowing pride, shattered. "I quit," he declared, the words quiet but firm. He didn't look back. But how does a man rebuild his professional life when his foundation has been so cruelly undermined, and his reputation potentially tainted?/1/103398/coverorgin.jpg?v=0fbd8eb90c6e08ff01274b05cf52ea21&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Heiress's Scars: A Vengeful Return
A week before my wedding to my childhood sweetheart, Derek, I was kidnapped. I was a wealthy heiress, and the ransom was set at $80 million. But Derek refused to pay. Instead, he and his assistant, Krystal, used the money to launch their business empire. While they cut ribbons at galas, I was brutally tortured for fifteen days. When I finally escaped, I stumbled upon their charity event, naked and broken. He pushed me away, furious that I had ruined his public image. He then used a secret DNA test to turn my family against me, had me committed to a psychiatric hospital, and left me there to rot for three years. He built his success on my ashes, leaving me with nothing but scars and a broken mind. Now, after years of healing, I've found peace with my adopted daughter, Lily. But he's back, begging for forgiveness. He doesn't know the torture left me infertile, and he has no idea what I'm willing to do to protect the only family I have left./0/85095/coverorgin.jpg?v=4ca39d09bcc88cd8d4ed56e2dd798191&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Art of Torment: A Captive's Defiance
The cold, sharp edges of the resin necklace dug into my skin, a constant, physical reminder of Alexander Vance' s twisted grasp. Just hours ago, I, Scarlett Hayes, had almost tasted freedom, only to be dragged back to this gilded cage. He didn't yell, he never did, not at first; his silence was always more terrifying than any scream. "Why do you keep trying to leave?" he would ask, his voice a smooth vibration that set my teeth on edge, entirely oblivious to the torment he inflicted. I longed to tell him that his control was suffocating, or that the fractured pieces of my destroyed art embedded in the necklace were a constant agony. Instead, I met his gaze with a defiant chin, "Maybe I like the exercise." But Alexander Vance was never fooled, not the man who saw me only as a broken bird to be possessed. My wrist still carried the faint scar from the day he broke my drawing hand, a brutal lesson in his twisted love. "Don' t lie to me," he whispered, his thumb pressing down on the mark, "You met with someone. You think there' s a single breath you take in this city that I' m not aware of?" The accusation hung thick and suffocating; he was right – I met Marcus Thorne, his rival, my only hope for escape. But what if my hope was just another cage? What if the man I thought was my savior was just as monstrous and possessive as my captor, seeing me not as a person, but as a prize to be won? The question gnawed at me with chilling certainty, just weeks before Alexander' s grand "Aion Project" launch, a monument built on the ruin of my family' s dreams. This elaborate trap, this calculated play for freedom, was not just about survival anymore. It was about discovering how deep the treachery went./1/106214/coverorgin.jpg?v=0b1aac86e39d8e5fd7ced44118405277&imageMogr2/format/webp)
My Husband Killed Our Unborn Baby to Save his Beloved Woman
Three years after Theo Hayes and I got married, I finally conceived his baby. Yet, around Valentine's Day, he personally performed an abortion on me. With reddened eyes, he told me that my heart couldn't withstand the burden of pregnancy. I was consumed with guilt and felt my body was not good enough and disappointed in Theo's deep love for me. Behind a curtain, Theo was washing the blood from his hands. "Theo, actually, if Dolores's current health is meticulously nurtured, there's a chance she could give birth to the baby. Why did you insist on..." "I need the umbilical cord blood," Theo said coldly. "Teresa's condition requires a stem cell transplant from newborn umbilical cord blood. Dolores's child is the best source, but a full-term delivery is too slow. Teresa can't wait so long. So... I expedited the fetus's growth and induced labor at five months. Although the baby won't survive, the cord blood can be used. Dolores wasn't going to live long anyway. It will be her final contribution to the Powell family that we used her baby to save Teresa. Don't let Dolores know I expedited the fetus and induced it. Just tell her it was a stillbirth." Dolores closed her eyes in despair, and tears streamed uncontrollably. Her husband, Theo, killed their baby and even drained the last value from it. He just used the baby's umbilical cord blood to save Soren Powell, my half-sister./1/111533/coverorgin.jpg?v=6fca712b79838a2da7d2b598e946673e&imageMogr2/format/webp)
