Modern Books for Women
Bestsellers Ongoing Completed
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I Married my Ex-husband's Rival
I helped Erick's beloved escape to Whyae. That very night, he kidnapped my parents, holding their lives hostage to find her. Erick pressed a button on the remote, and the screen showed my parents separately tied up and suspended from a plane. "Crack!" At Erick's command, a bodyguard fired a shot at the rope, and I could see the rope was about to snap./1/104966/coverorgin.jpg?v=6f5243c115d0e7f017e47c65a7b02e30&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Stolen Legacy: A Genius Heiress Returns
I was a top-tier CTO in Boston, but I threw it all away the moment my grandmother’s heart began to fail. The only doctor who could save her was in Manhattan, protected by a wall of money and power I didn't have. Then the real blow landed: the man who destroyed my family was now a billionaire at Zenith BioTech. Conrad King hadn't just stolen my grandfather’s company; he had orchestrated the hostile takeover that led to my grandfather's stroke and left us with nothing but debt and a broken name. We moved to New York, but the city was a nightmare. The elite specialist's office laughed at my pleas, and I was nearly trampled by Sean Sterling, a cold-blooded mogul who looked at me like I was a glitch in his perfect world. My grandmother gripped my hand in her hospital bed, weeping as she begged me to stay away from the man who had ruined us. "Promise me you won't go to him," she rasped through her oxygen mask. "He'll chew you up." I promised her, but it was the biggest lie of my life. I watched the news as Conrad King smiled at charity galas, living the life that belonged to my family. The unfairness of it burned in my chest like acid. How could a thief be celebrated as a hero while we were left to die in the shadows? I'm done being the victim. I’ve sanitized my resume and applied for a position at Zenith BioTech. I’m going to infiltrate his empire, take back what he stole, and burn his smile off his face./0/70237/coverorgin.jpg?v=358ad8a14fc6b0c7dd32ff7b108de681&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Forgiveness Denied: Entangled With My Ex's Uncle
Madison had always believed that she would marry Colten. She spent her youth admiring him from afar, dreaming of their future life together. But Colten was always indifferent to her, and when he abandoned her at a time when she needed him most, she finally realized that he never loved her. With renewed resolve and a thirst for revenge, Madison left. Endless possibilities lay ahead, but Colten was no longer part of her plans. Colten rushed to her place in a panic. "Madison, please come back to me. I’ll give you everything!" It was his powerful uncle who answered the door. "She's my woman now."/0/50526/coverorgin.jpg?v=a8e8bcaa10aa732663f3c417521a4385&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Billionaire's Revenge: It took a wrong turn
Unlike other children who grew up with their parents, Williams smith was an exception. His mother, who was the only parent he met when he came into this world, was murdered in cold blood while he was much younger. He was the only witness to her death and had barely escaped from the murderers. The incident was reported at the police station but the case was closed in a short while. Seeing how much power the murderers had to have even bribed the police, Williams smith sought power, and after 10 years when he had become a billionaire, he came back to his hometown to seek his revenge. While he was still at it, he met and fell in love with Ava Claire, a practicing medical doctor who was sent to be his doctor since he had a psychological illness that came up every once in a while. Little did he know that her dad was the perpetrator of his mother's murder. What happened after he found out? Did he continue with his taste for revenge or did he let love prevail? Find out the aftermath of "The billionaire's revenge, it took a wrong turn"./1/113101/coverorgin.jpg?v=08263a80ab4cd7f9ab2286d084110ff8&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Truth Hidden Beneath Our Bed
For ten years, I believed my husband Adrian was a frugal, hardworking man. We lived modestly, saving every penny while he preached about our tight budget. Then I found the burner phone hidden under our bed. The top contact wasn't me, his wife, but a woman saved as "My Love ." The phone revealed his eight-year double life. He had another family in Austin-a "wife" named Jasmine and a son, Angel. He'd bought them a $1.2 million house and a luxury SUV with our marital assets. All while telling me we couldn't afford a new dress or swimming lessons for our son, Cameron. His parents knew everything. They even attended his fake wedding to Jasmine while I was at home, pregnant with their first grandchild. My entire marriage wasn't just a lie; it was a financial shield for his real family. So when he came home from his latest "business trip" and asked to take control of my salary to "tie up loose ends," I didn't cry. I simply slid the burner phone across the table. "I've already hired a lawyer, Adrian. And I'm taking back every single penny."/0/80875/coverorgin.jpg?v=9059670ea44717afdc4d45ccab498ae4&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Her Husband's Legacy: A Widow's Justice
Maria Rodriguez, a Marine widow, lived a quiet life, scrubbing floors to support her artistic teenage daughter, Sofia. Every penny, every sacrifice, was for Sofia. But in a town run by the wealthy, Sofia's very existence was a target, constantly shadowed by Maria's quiet fear. Then the phone call came from Mercy Hospital, tearing Maria's world apart. Sofia had been brutally beaten, her face a pulped mask, bandages covering half her small body. Through choked sobs, Sofia whispered the name that confirmed Maria's deepest dread: "Chad Henderson." Chad's father, Mr. Henderson—the man who "owned this town" with his private security force—showed up at the hospital, not with apologies, but with a sneer and a check, trying to buy Maria's silence. He dismissed Sofia's assault as "boys will be boys," his cronies, including the town's police chief, enabling him. Sofia, terrified, begged Maria to "just let it go." But it was too late. Sofia died days later, her vibrant spirit extinguished. The world tried to erase Sofia's murder. The police called it an "accident," Henderson's lawyer offered more blood money, even suggesting "other children." Maria's pleas for justice were met with shrugs, scorn, and terrifying intimidation by Henderson's goons. Miguel, her hero Marine, had died for his country, yet his widow and daughter were denied the most basic justice in their own backyard. The silence was deafening, the injustice infuriating. But as Maria clutched Miguel's Navy Cross and Sofia's innocent photo, a desperate, terrifying resolve hardened within her. Memorial Day was next week, a public event where Henderson would undoubtedly be polishing his image. This time, Maria wouldn't just clean floors. She would expose the truth, even if it meant shattering her last fragile peace./0/85881/coverorgin.jpg?v=79a2af2755c2b42caf602e522a0f55f3&imageMogr2/format/webp)
No Mercy for the Merciless
My volunteer work was simple, a quiet act of kindness. For two years, I drove underprivileged students to their SATs, finding genuine joy in helping. Then my phone buzzed, and a sharp, high-pitched voice introduced me to Tiffany. She wasn't just demanding a ride; she was demanding a luxury SUV for five, not three, and a perfectly pristine car. "Make sure your car is clean. We don' t want to show up to the most important exam of our lives covered in dog hair or smelling like old takeout." Her voice dripped with an entitlement that left me breathless, and I knew this was different. I brushed aside the unease, telling myself it was just one difficult person. But from the moment they sauntered out, laughing, holding expensive coffees, the verbal jabs began, culminating in Tiffany grabbing my steering wheel on the highway. The car swerved violently. A truck narrowly missed us. "What is wrong with you? You could have killed us!" I yelled, my body shaking with rage. "Me? You' re the one who can' t drive! You almost got us killed!" she shrieked back, her eyes wide with indignation, not remorse. To my horror, Jessica, one of the others, nodded in agreement with Tiffany's outrageous lie. The unfairness of it all made me sick. My good deed had been twisted into an obligation, and I was being made the villain. My husband' s calm voice echoed in my head: "Don't give them a single thing they can use against you. Be polite, be professional…" I decided I would be a robot. A chauffeur. No emotion, just function. I would finish this, and then wash my hands of them forever./1/125929/coverorgin.jpg?v=32f5a3be2556f38fcd50dbf107bbfc1c&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Jilted Heiress And Her Spectacular Comeback
I was double-checking the final payments for our upcoming wedding when I saw it. A $50,000 transfer from our joint account to a woman named Alyssia Stuart, labeled "living expenses and Connor's tuition." My fiancé, Jairo, the tech mogul I had spent ten years building from the ground up using my family's hidden resources, was secretly sponsoring another family. I hacked into his laptop and found a hidden social media archive filled with photos of him, Alyssia, and a little boy with his exact eyes. "J says he's going to give me a real home soon, make me his one and only wife." Alyssia's caption glared at me, posted the same week Jairo claimed to be on a business trip. He had even used the anonymous Ivy League scholarship fund I had secretly established for him to pay for his mistress's degree. For a decade, I gave up my name and my powerful family to be his quiet, supportive partner, designing the very tech that made him a Wall Street wunderkind. And to this woman, I was just a "complication" to be handled. Instead of crying, I calmly took photos of every single screenshot and packed my bags. I dialed a number I hadn't called in years. "Mom, we're finished. Is that marriage arrangement with Culver Collins still on the table?" It was time to reclaim my identity as the Montgomery heiress and watch the empire I built for him burn to the ground./0/82596/coverorgin.jpg?v=c849a0b523b1595c90b6124b8eaa8aab&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Gilded Betrayal
My life felt like a flawless painting: a thriving art gallery in SoHo, a visa to expand to Paris, and a husband, Ethan, whose grand gestures-even donating a kidney-painted him as the epitome of devotion. But the hushed "whispers even in paradise" I overheard at the French consulate soon materialized into a sickening reality as unfamiliar perfume, a fuchsia lipstick stain, and a pair of lacy thongs pointed to a betrayal within my own home. Ethan' s mistress, Chloe Vance-the unsuspecting Mark's sister and a houseguest who flaunted her presence-was brazen, openly taunting me and daringly sending me explicit videos of their affair, even boasting about being pregnant with his child. The man who once swore eternal love and sacrificed his health for me had meticulously constructed a grotesque pantomime, his every tender touch a suffocating lie designed to gaslight me into insanity. But the agony of betrayal solidified into a chilling resolve: I would not quietly vanish; instead, on our anniversary, I publicly forced Ethan to sign his divorce and transfer his fortune, setting the stage for his dramatic downfall and my own audacious freedom./0/18144/coverorgin.jpg?v=277bfd548f10f193d7c8c2da8978189a&imageMogr2/format/webp)
My BabyGirl
Sequel to 'His BabyGirl' this can't be read alone or nothing with make sense so I recommend reading the first book for it to make sense!! ------ She belonged to him, whether she, or anyone else, liked it or not. That was the way it was. Ted. Shelby. Both gorgeous but both troublemakers. Sound like a perfect couple, right? Ted wanted Charlotte and Shelby wanted Tyrell. But Charlotte wanted Tyrell and Tyrell wanted Charlotte. Watch the two deal with jealous, arguments and fighting as they are also being pressured into doing things they weren't ready to face just yet./1/120141/coverorgin.jpg?v=71aca9640851f78a1ef9e9fe599d0f14&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Substitute Heiress Leaves For Good
For three years, Eleonore was the perfect, understanding girlfriend to Preston Sterling, supporting the wealthy finance heir through every family crisis and business deal. But at a glamorous rooftop party, she accidentally overheard a conversation that shattered her world. Preston casually confessed to his best friend that he was only using Eleonore as a convenient, comfortable substitute because she looked a bit like his ex-girlfriend, Vanessa, who had just returned to the city. When Vanessa officially appeared, Preston's friends publicly humiliated Eleonore, mocking her as a cheap imitation and a pathetic social climber. Instead of defending the woman who had stood by him, Preston fiercely protected his ex, holding her close while demanding Eleonore apologize to his friends to make the scene go away. Worse still, he later tracked Eleonore down and arrogantly offered to keep her as a secret mistress. He claimed he couldn't abandon his fragile ex right now, but promised to buy Eleonore a new place and whatever she wanted. Three years of quiet devotion were treated as a sordid transaction. She watched him play the noble hero to his ex while treating her like a disposable prop, and felt a chilling, desolate calm replace her heartbreak. Without shedding a single tear, she packed her bags, walked out of their shared apartment forever, and pulled out a long-forgotten marriage alliance proposal. She calmly sent a text to Ford Trevino, the ruthless CEO of a rival billionaire family. "Mr. Trevino, I agree to the engagement."/1/105749/coverorgin.jpg?v=c7801ccbe91e3c75273a4ce13e0553aa&imageMogr2/format/webp)
From Drowned Bride To Shining Starlight
My fiancé plunged our SUV into an icy river during a blizzard. He had a choice: save me, or save his childhood sweetheart, Kianna. He didn't hesitate. He left me to drown. This wasn't the first time. In my last life, he' d "saved" me after Kianna drowned, only to trap me in a loveless marriage. He blamed me for her death, his silent accusations a constant torment. My own parents didn't care, forcing the wedding to secure a corporate merger. I was nothing more than a pawn. He married me not for love, but as penance, making me his living scapegoat for the woman he truly lost. But when I opened my eyes again, I was back in the sinking car, the icy water rising around me. This time, I smiled and pushed him toward her. "Save Kianna," I commanded. "She needs you more."/1/113258/coverorgin.jpg?v=2072c9acefeb5aa9f583d4a1c24328cf&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Woman He Couldn't Crush
Ten years. Ninety-seven million dollars. And the wife wasn't me. I discovered Knox Miller's photograph on a Tuesday—him, his pregnant wife, and a future I was never meant to share. I could have walked away. Instead, I spent nine years becoming the architect of his rise, waiting for the perfect moment to engineer his fall. He never knew I was building a fortress behind his back. He never knew his wife Deana had become my secret ally. He never knew I was teaching his son to code through an anonymous online persona. He thought he was the smartest man in every room. He was wrong. When the moment finally came, I didn't just leave him. I burned his entire world to the ground—starting with the brownstone I bought us, and ending with a press conference where both his families stood on stage to destroy him. Revenge is a dish best served cold. I waited nine years to serve mine. And it was delicious./0/98084/coverorgin.jpg?v=c1e89a3072a261e33f813fd176370a20&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Prenup: My Billion Dollar Weapon
My husband, the man I saved from a suicide attempt and built an empire for, was forcing me to kneel on frozen peas. My crime? A splash of cream in my coffee. This was all for his new "soulmate," a vegan influencer named Kassie, who had moved into our home and declared war on all animal products. The cruelty escalated. He kidnapped my ailing father, torturing him over his hobby of building birdhouses, then used my father' s life to blackmail me into silence. Then, at a gala, he left me for dead in the path of a raging bear to save Kassie. As he turned his back, leaving me to be mauled, I realized the man I loved was gone, replaced by a monster. But I survived, saved by a mysterious stranger. And as I healed, I remembered the one weapon he'd forgotten: the ironclad prenup that gave me a controlling interest in his billion-dollar company. He thought he had broken me, but he had just given me the means to burn his empire to the ground./0/63668/coverorgin.jpg?v=2b7b30db4d8a7113a0a401782fe5a17e&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Ruthless Desire: Chased By My Ex's Billionaire Best Friend
Bethany, a stunning woman burdened by financial woes, wrestled with her future prospects in the city after fleeing her manipulative former lover. At the same time, a bold and unyielding man began to pursue her with relentless passion. The word on the street was that the aloof Mr. Swanson had taken under his wing a woman of striking beauty, allegedly snatched from his best friend. He showered her with lavish gifts and was captivated by her every word. They said she was not merely a beautiful woman, but a unique treasure that demanded constant dedication and attention./0/47555/coverorgin.jpg?v=0817531f16778690cbec634cc32f712f&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Reborn Wife: Once Bitten, Twice Shy
My marriage to Mathias was supposed to make me the happiest woman in the world. Although I knew he didn't love me, I thought he would fall for me once I showered him with all the love I had to give. Five years passed and Mathias still didn't give a damn about me. Instead, he met his true love and cut all ties with me because of her. He showed her off; something he never did for me. His abandonment pushed me into depression. I was broken in every sense of the word. Even on my deathbed, my so-called husband didn't come to say goodbye to me. When I opened my eyes again, I found myself reborn. I was still Mathias's wife and it was two months before he met his true love. In this life, I refused to be hurt by him again. After talking some sense into my head, I asked him for a divorce in other to escape being heartbroken like I was previously. Mathias tore up the divorce papers time and time again while also shutting me down. "Rylie, stop all this nonsense! Playing hard to get doesn't work anymore!" To show him that I was dead serious, I went ahead to file for divorce. Only then did he panic. He abandoned the "woman of his dreams" and came to my side. "Please give me a second chance, Rylie. I promise to do right by you. You'll be the only woman in my heart from now on. Don't leave me, okay?" A war broke out in my mind after this apology. On one hand, I didn't want to be hurt again. And on the other, I didn't want to let go of the man I loved so dearly. What should I do?!/0/83692/coverorgin.jpg?v=54524600bd62d8ad7376adcf285d0788&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Sting: A Second Chance
"Chloe, can I use your Amazon account?" My roommate Maya's innocent question on Black Friday was a physical blow, a chilling reminder of my past life. Last time, my simple kindness had led to her viral TikTok smear campaign, my boyfriend Liam abandoning me, my internship rescinded, and ultimately, my mother's heart attack and my own death. This time, I wasn't the naive girl she destroyed. I logged into Amazon and, as she watched, confused, I clicked "Close Your Amazon Account." "It's permanently closed," I stated, the finality of my decision shocking her. But Maya didn't give up. The next day, a viral TikTok accused "Chloe Miller from CalTech" of returning soiled workout clothes, turning me into a public pariah overnight. Liam, my golden-boy boyfriend, demanded I "fix this," prioritizing his reputation over my innocence. The shame and humiliation were back, just like before. But now, I saw the trap for what it was. Instead of pleading my case, I posted a single public comment: "I am the victim of identity theft and a malicious smear campaign. To the business owner: meet me in person, on campus, tomorrow at noon." The old Chloe was dead. This time, I was ready to set my own./0/98710/coverorgin.jpg?v=48a9d61b85f808d2e8b05a365d83c34a&imageMogr2/format/webp)
My Montana Escape: A New Beginning
The cool metal of the gurney is the last thing I'll remember. One more session, the doctor said, and the past ten years of my life will be wiped clean. It all comes back to that night. I walked in to find my fiancé, Alex, kissing my half-sister, Kalie-the girl I raised since she was fifteen. When I confronted them, Kalie shoved me. I hit my head on a steel model, bleeding on the floor of the studio we designed together. But Alex didn't rush to me. He rushed to comfort her. She lied, painting me as the attacker. My best friend, my entire world, turned against me. Alex, my Alex, had me committed, signing the papers that subjected me to brutal, punitive electroshock treatments. He wasn't just erasing my memory; he was erasing me, punishing me for a crime I didn't commit, all to protect her. Now, waking from the final, consensual treatment, I find a note I left for myself. It's a plan. Sell the firm. Sell the house. Disappear to Montana. And this time, I won't just be erasing the memories. I'll be erasing them./0/85100/coverorgin.jpg?v=22b9dc4444fa2b39ff06a099f7a6fa73&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Ashes of Love, Flames of Justice
My phone buzzed on the counter of the vet clinic, a harsh sound, demanding my attention from a complicated case. It was Mark, my husband, sharp and impatient. "Chloe, drop whatever you' re doing. I need you." He needed his backup drive, for the biggest night of his career, a speech about 'sacrifice' and 'unwavering support', to impress his investors. I, his vet-tech wife, was racing home to fetch it, my knuckles white on the steering wheel. When I arrived, he was radiant on stage, spouting platitudes about family while I clutched the hard drive in the shadows, my stomach twisting. My phone vibrated: Dr. Reed, our son Leo' s specialist. "Chloe, the new treatment protocol is our best option, but we need to start immediately. The hospital requires a significant deposit." It was an unimaginable sum. I looked through the glass at Mark, laughing with investors, the hard drive forgotten. Leo and I were not in his world. In that moment, something inside me shifted. The long, slow burn of resentment ignited into cold, clear purpose. I wasn't going to wait for him. I wasn't going to ask him. I drove directly to sell my father' s classic Mustang – my most prized possession – for the cash. Returning home, a bright orange notice was slapped on our front door: NOTICE OF FORECLOSURE. My key wouldn' t work. My credit card was declined. I called Mark, his voice laced with fury. "Where the hell did you go? You embarrassed me, Chloe!" "The house, Mark," I whispered, trembling. "There' s a foreclosure notice. My keys don' t work." "I mortgaged it. Months ago. The startup needed a cash infusion," he sneered. "It' s gone, Chloe. My last-ditch funding failed because I was too damn distracted by all this drama with Leo. Your drama." Rain plastering my hair to my face, I sank to my knees. "We' re done," he said. "I told the bank to change the locks. You can get your things tomorrow." He hung up. Just then, Leo, pale and frail, opened the door. "Mommy? Why is Daddy yelling? Are we leaving our house?" His simple words cut through my shock. I pulled him close, whispering, "What if it was just you and me from now on? A new life. Would that be okay?" He nodded, trusting. That was all I needed./0/84005/coverorgin.jpg?v=25b5419cf761626cd890221aa3f33dae&imageMogr2/format/webp)
