Modern Books for Women
Bestsellers Ongoing Completed
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No Longer Their Pawn, Now His Bride
For five years, I lived as a ghost in my own body, a replacement for the dead twin sister I never knew. My family held my dream of becoming a designer hostage, forcing me into a contract after they'd already sabotaged my future as a concert pianist. On the night the contract was set to end, my younger brother found my secret portfolio. In a blind rage, he tore my life's work to shreds and shoved me to the ground. I landed hard, my left hand slamming against a table with a sickening crack. It was my drawing hand. It was broken. When my parents arrived, they didn't see my pain. My father blamed me for provoking my brother. My mother accused me of trying to kill her. Then, my father's hand struck my face. "You monster!" he roared. "You are nothing but a vicious, manipulative creature!" The boy I had raised for five years screamed at me to get out, his eyes filled with a chilling hatred I finally understood they had fed him. I looked at my bleeding hand, at the wreckage of my dreams, and at the strangers who called themselves my family. I finally stopped trying to earn their love. I turned and walked out the door, leaving them behind forever./1/107091/coverorgin.jpg?v=3c3510c6e4492e2724b47a29ebc46cd8&imageMogr2/format/webp)
After Divorce:My arrogant ex-husband regrets
I sat alone at my long marble dining table, staring at a plate of cold truffle risotto. My husband, Jere, was late again, claiming he was stuck in a "war zone" of a board meeting for a multi-billion dollar merger. A single Instagram notification shattered the silence. It was a photo of a candlelit birthday dinner, featuring a man's hand resting on a white tablecloth. I recognized the slight veins, the jagged scar on the thumb, and the navy-faced Patek Philippe watch I had spent six months tracking down as a wedding gift. Jere wasn't in a boardroom; he was celebrating his ex-girlfriend Irina's birthday while texting me to "don't wait up." The next morning, I followed him to a VIP hospital wing. I watched through a cracked door as my husband cuddled a five-year-old boy and whispered tender promises to Irina. When he came home, he tried to buy my silence with a rare pink diamond bracelet, but I found the receipt: he had bought two identical ones. He had branded his wife and his mistress with matching jewelry, using hidden trackers to keep us both on a leash. When I confronted him, he didn't flinch. He coldly reminded me that he owned my father's massive debts and could send him to prison for insolvency fraud with one phone call. "Stop with the attitude, Deliah," he said. I felt like a ghost haunting my own life, trapped in a gilded cage by the man who paid for my mother's heart surgery while keeping a secret family across town. The humiliation peaked at our rescheduled anniversary dinner when Jere received a text, threw a stack of hundreds at me like I was a stranger, and abandoned me in a crowded restaurant to rush back to her. "Pay the bill," he commanded before walking out. Standing in the wreckage of a shattered crystal vase back at the penthouse, I realized my silence was the only thing keeping his empire standing. I pulled the crumpled divorce papers from my purse and signed my name with a steady hand. I wasn't just walking away; I was calling his sister to help me burn his perfect world to the ground./1/102549/coverorgin.jpg?v=8b1b72aee6989665ad3af6b22e02ccb3&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Surgeon's Betrayal: A Wife's Revenge
After three years in a mental hospital where my husband, Arthur, had me committed, I finally escaped. I went straight to my mother's grave-the mother who had given him her own kidney to save his life. But her headstone was gone. In its place was a memorial for a dog named Princess Fluffykins. My husband had replaced her with his mistress's pet. When I confronted him, he and his new woman, Blaire, destroyed my reputation online, costing me every job offer. Then, during a critical heart surgery, Arthur-my surgeon-walked out, leaving me to die on the table because Blaire called with a fake emergency. He left me to die, just as he had abandoned my mother in her final hours. The man I had given everything to had tried to murder me. But I didn't die. My childhood friend, Joel, burst in and saved me. When Arthur returned, begging for forgiveness, I looked him in the eye and delivered the lie that would become my truth. "I always loved Joel. You were just a distraction."/1/115527/coverorgin.jpg?v=86e86420ab04cef088d70c37d51b7089&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Bound To The Monster Who Ruined Me
Ayleen Avery was just a struggling hotel worker trying to survive her shift. But during a sudden blackout, she accidentally stumbled into the pitch-black VIP suite of a ruthless billionaire driven mad by chronic insomnia. Calmed only by her unique natural scent of roses and rain, the terrifying man attacked her from the shadows and forced himself on her. Terrified and broken, Ayleen fled at dawn, unknowingly leaving behind her late mother's antique rose necklace in his bed. Her greedy coworker found the necklace, claimed to be the woman from that night, and was instantly swept into a life of luxury. Meanwhile, Ayleen was blackmailed into a forced marriage with her attacker—Cassius Doyle—to save her adoptive father from prison. Deceived by the stolen necklace, Cassius believed Ayleen was a manipulative spy. He brought the coworker into their home and paraded her around the master bedroom. "In this house, you are lower than the dirt on my shoes." He choked Ayleen, forced her to sleep in a damp storage room, and treated her with violent disgust while pampering the thief. Ayleen was suffocating in absolute despair. She had lost her innocence, her freedom, and her mother's only relic to a vicious liar. She couldn't understand how this all-powerful man could be so completely blind. Why couldn't he recognize the very scent that had cured his agonizing madness? Staring at the dark bruises he had just left on her neck, Ayleen wiped the blood from her lip. She would endure this three-month marriage to secure her family's safety, but once the contract ended, she would expose the truth and tear down the fake savior he cherished so much./0/83731/coverorgin.jpg?v=483cf6bdaa378b38006e27a5ca3da853&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Nine Years Gone
For nine years, I poured every ounce of my sweat and soul into building a future. As a carpenter, I paid for Chloe's law school, seeing her as the only family I had since taking her in as a teen. My dream, a new house-our home-was finally within reach. But the moment I burst through the door, beaming after closing on the house, Chloe wasn' t smiling. She held out her hand, the silver ring I'd given her resting in her palm. "I can' t, Leo," she declared, her voice flat, "We need to end this." My heart shattered. Nine years of sacrifice, reduced to a cold business transaction. "We were partners in survival," she stated, eyes cold, "My life is starting now. You' re not compatible." Then I saw it: a luxury Swiss watch for Julian, her wealthy new mentor. She didn't even know my shirt size; she saw my calluses, not me. The bitter truth crashed down. My promise to her, that she would be my only family, had become a cage of my own making. How could the person I' d given everything to betray me so utterly? Nine years felt like a devastating lie. As I sat in the desolate apartment, I remembered a crumpled business card, long ignored. Hollis Investigations. They' d been searching for my biological parents. It was time to find out. I picked up the phone./1/103198/coverorgin.jpg?v=fc7d796b67f45d3e43baaa2f058a88b4&imageMogr2/format/webp)
My Faked Death, His Endless Torment
I was dying from a mysterious illness, but my family, including my fiancé King, dismissed me as a drama queen. At my adopted sister Isabel' s promotion party, my body finally gave out and I collapsed, coughing up blood. Instead of helping, King accused me of ruining Isabel's big night. He tore up my terminal diagnosis report right in front of me, sneering that I'd do anything for attention. Completely broken, I annulled our engagement and fled to a rundown motel to die alone. But Isabel found me. With a triumphant smile, she confessed everything-she had been slowly poisoning me for years, a plot to steal my health, my family's love, and King himself. She had no idea her entire monstrous confession was being recorded by a device left in the room. I sent that audio file to everyone and, with the help of a kind stranger, faked my own death. Years later, I had a new life, a new name, and a quiet peace I never thought possible. Then one day, a broken, haunted man walked into my seaside café, clutching a faded photo of me. It was King./1/109687/coverorgin.jpg?v=57d59a6378a468d334ed3270cb5679ff&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Unmasking The Man I Married
At fifty-eight, after thirty years of marriage, my husband announced he was leaving me. It was for a woman I had mentored, whose powerful uncle had orchestrated my professional ruin. My own son took his father's side. "Dad worked hard," he told me, his voice cold. "He deserves to be happy." The weight of their betrayal was a physical blow. My heart seized, my vision went black, and I died alone on the floor of our empty house. Until I opened my eyes. I was young again, sitting in my husband's office thirty years in the past. He stood before me, handsome and concerned, about to ask me to sacrifice my career for his. This was the exact moment that had destroyed my life. But this time, I knew every lie he was about to tell. And I wasn't the same naive fool who would let him./1/114554/coverorgin.jpg?v=36c534ddc18f5b973c6614f874b409c1&imageMogr2/format/webp)
No Longer A Victim, Now I Rise
The fluorescent hum of the DMV was the soundtrack to my boring life, until I tried to replace my lost driver's license. "Your marital status. It says you're divorced," the clerk said, shattering my five-year marriage to Jackson Parks with a single, flat sentence. My husband, Jackson, the man who swore he loved me, had secretly divorced me three years ago. Not only that, he had remarried the very next day to Candida Camacho, the woman who had tried to murder me on my wedding day and left me infertile. And they had a two-year-old son, Joey. I stumbled home, my world a blur, only to find Jackson and Candida in our living room, arguing. "I hate having to pretend for that pathetic woman!" Candida shrieked. Jackson, my husband, pleaded, "I love you. I've always loved you." The man I sacrificed everything for, who swore to destroy her, was now playing house with my attempted murderer, and I was the fool living in his house, sleeping in his bed, believing his lies. The pain in my abdomen, a phantom ache from five years ago, flared to life, mirroring the gaping wound in my soul. I would not be his victim anymore. "Hamilton," I said into the phone, my voice clear and steady. "I need your help. I need you to help me die."/0/86327/coverorgin.jpg?v=20251103163627&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Uncle's Reckoning
Young billionaire Geoffrey Smith had it all-until the night his family was torn apart by betrayal and murder by none other than his favorite uncle, Danny Gayle. Blinded and broken, he vanishes, only to return eight years later with a new identity–Carlton Jaz, an intellectual man driven by vengeance. But amid the web of deceit lies a love he had been waiting to embrace his whole life-with Tiana Banks, the girl who saved him with the M3 vaccine the night he was supposed to be killed by a dangerous chemical weapon. Unbeknownst to him, Tiana Banks is right in front of him, working in the same company, but neither recognizes the other as they now look different from eight years ago and now have new identities. Worse still, an accident robs Carlton of his memory just as he uncovers Tiana's new identity as Mia. The storm between love, loyalty, and revenge reaches its breaking point. With billionaire heir, Roy Meyers hell-bent on making Mia his woman, she battles her own heart while Carlton fights to reclaim the life, love, and justice stolen from him. In a world where secrets are inevitable, betrayals, the order of the day, and love the ultimate test, will Carlton triumph?-Or will he lose his love as a price for revenge? A tale of love, power, betrayal, and redemption, 'The Uncle's Reckoning' is a gripping saga of endurance and determination where every choice could mean triumph-or tragedy./0/80487/coverorgin.jpg?v=60c95df3e4a1efe2f2238174bcee976f&imageMogr2/format/webp)
A Sister's Unyielding Fury
My parents and brother were heroes, decorated with Medals of Freedom and a Medal of Honor for their profound sacrifice to this country. After their deaths, all my sister Isabella and I had was each other, and the fragile hope that she’d find happiness with her seemingly dependable fiancé, Ryan. But that hope shattered when a frantic call sent me to the ER: Isabella was brutally beaten, Ryan claiming she "fell," though the doctor confirmed blunt force trauma. The real horror began when Ryan’s wealthy mistress, Victoria Jenkins, confronted me, admitting she was Isabella’s attacker and gloating about her power. Ryan, the man who swore to protect Isabella, utterly betrayed her, backing Victoria’s "accident" lie and accepting her family’s blood money to dismiss the assault. The system failed us: police ignored my pleas, lawyers found their hands tied, and Victoria, untouchable because of her family’s influence, literally threw money onto Isabella’s bruised hospital bed, mocking her. Then came the kidnapping, the beating, the chilling blackmail: Victoria flaunted a vile video of Isabella and forced Ryan to confess an even darker secret—he’d previously pushed Isabella, causing a devastating miscarriage years ago. My sister’s spirit broke, extinguishing the last flicker of hope in her eyes, leaving me rage-filled and desperate for true justice in a system that seemed utterly rigged. How could the ideals my family died for be so easily trampled by the corrupt and powerful? But as I looked at our heroes' medals, a cold, unyielding resolve ignited within me; Victoria thought she'd won, but she gravely underestimated a sister with nothing left to lose. We wouldn’t disappear. We would make ourselves impossible to ignore, demanding this country live up to the sacrifices made for its freedom./0/84056/coverorgin.jpg?v=ca5e9987e170ab017ee9ac1eb9183480&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Beyond the Betrayal: Gabby's Sweet Comeback
My hands, my father' s legacy, were destined for culinary greatness. I was just days away from the Golden Whisk competition, a scholarship to Le Cordon Bleu within reach, my dream of becoming a master pastry chef about to ignite. And Caleb Scott, the man I loved, my seemingly devoted partner, was supposed to be my biggest supporter. Then, with a sharp click, the heavy industrial mixer door slammed shut, my hand trapped inside. A white-hot explosion of pain, a raw scream. Caleb stood before me, his eyes cold, resolute. "Molly' s father died for me, Gabby. I owe her this." In an instant, he shattered not just my bones, but my future. My career was over before it began. Staring at my mangled hand, then at his impassive face, I couldn' t comprehend this monstrous betrayal. He offered to "take care of me," an insult layered on top of the injury. Molly, his childhood friend, later visited me in the hospital, feigning sympathy, holding the trophy I should have won. His mother then offered me a fortune – a bribe to disappear and erase me from their perfect narrative. I took the money, feeling my spirit crush under the weight of their callousness. How could the man who claimed to love me orchestrate such a cruel, calculated act? What kind of debt repayment costs another person their entire life' s ambition? Why would he so casually destroy everything I worked for, for someone else' s perceived gain? But as I packed the last remnants of my old life, clutching my father' s recipe book, I felt a new flicker within the devastation. This wasn't the end; it was a forced redirection. I would not disappear. I would reclaim my love for baking, on my own terms./1/103523/coverorgin.jpg?v=20260106223336&imageMogr2/format/webp)
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./1/114879/coverorgin.jpg?v=0408f655b84ea9bf4e9537937f62a80d&imageMogr2/format/webp)
His Unwanted Wife: The Hidden Genius
For three years, June played the perfect, submissive wife to billionaire Augustus Pruitt, hoping a child would finally warm his cold heart and secure their marriage. But when she cautiously suggested they have a baby, he looked at her with pure, unfiltered disgust. "A woman who schemes her way into a marriage doesn't get to carry my blood." He sneered, leaving immediately to lavish his mistress with diamonds. The nightmare only escalated from there. Augustus bought the one painting June desperately wanted—a piece she had secretly created herself—just to gift it to his mistress. He publicly outbid June at the gallery, mocking her lack of wealth, and left her to collapse in the freezing rain. When the storm gave her a severe 104-degree fever and she nearly died on their staircase, he didn't even stay by her hospital bed. Instead, he sent an assistant with a box of jewelry to buy her silence, then forced her to attend a family dinner where his mother and sister viciously mocked her barren womb and background. Looking at Augustus, who sat there casually cutting his steak while his family tore her apart, the last flicker of hope in June's chest sputtered and died. She finally understood that her three years of bleeding devotion were nothing but a pathetic joke to them. She dropped her silverware, the sharp clatter silencing the entire room. She wasn't going to be their punching bag anymore. It was time to finalize the divorce papers, reclaim her hidden identity as the world-renowned artist 'mr.sun', and make them all regret it./0/83083/coverorgin.jpg?v=61ad894fbb4acf2da354f713a00d48ae&imageMogr2/format/webp)
My Stolen Life: The Billionaire\'s Revenge
The black SUV pulled up to my childhood D.C. estate after ten years away. I stepped out, expecting a quiet, perhaps strained, family dinner. Instead, a lavish party was in full swing, music and laughter spilling from the open doors. Then I saw her: my cousin, Chloe, wearing my dress, laughing with Julian Vance-my fiancé from a decade ago. My research. My fellowship. She was claiming it all as her own, right in front of me. Just as confusion ripped through me, my mother, Eleanor, appeared, her face hardening into an icy mask. "Ava," she said, her voice a chilling whisper. "What are you doing here?" Before I could demand an explanation, she cut me off, announcing Chloe' s engagement and achievements as if I didn't exist. When I protested, claiming my stolen life, my own mother publicly declared me "unwell" and "confused," a danger under medical care. My father, David, stood silent, then sided with her, allowing security to drag me away and lock me in a secluded wing of my own home. Betrayal ripped through me, a suffocating blanket of disbelief. How could my family do this? Erase me, steal my entire existence, and frame me as insane? But then, my father returned, a tray with sedatives in hand, and a flicker in his eyes-a silent warning, a hidden promise. This wasn't abandonment. This was a staged escape. I took the pills, publicly "dying" as Ava, knowing I was about to be reborn./1/102550/coverorgin.jpg?v=20260106222430&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Till Death Do Us Part, Indeed
My husband, Augustine, was a serial cheater, and I was a terminally ill artist. His mistress didn't just steal my marriage; she publicly flaunted it, taunting me at every turn. The final blow came when they desecrated the sculpture I made for my dead mother, laughing as they defiled my most sacred memory. He used my childhood trauma to break me, freezing my assets, destroying my career, and trapping me in our home like a prisoner. He had promised to be my safe harbor, but instead, he became the monster who weaponized my deepest pain. But my cancer gave me a deadline and a dark purpose. I lured him back, manipulating him into destroying his mistress and bankrupting himself for a forgiveness I would never grant. As he knelt before me, a broken man offering his shattered empire, I gave him my final command. "Now," I whispered, my voice cold as the grave, "it's time to pay with your life."/1/115528/coverorgin.jpg?v=5e60660009ccc60988b93286917879b1&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Sheltered By The Coldhearted Billionaire Boss
Overnight, Ella lost her family, her home, and her entire life. Discarded by the foster system, she was left shivering in the freezing mud outside her ruined estate. That was when Javier Shepherd appeared. The terrifyingly cold, powerful billionaire pulled her from the dirt, threw her into a massive glass penthouse, handed her an unlimited black card, and vanished overseas, leaving her in the hands of a cruel caretaker. The caretaker treated Ella like garbage, feeding her cheap, processed meals while using the black card to buy designer bags. The toxic food triggered a severe allergic reaction. Ella collapsed in the dark hallway, her throat swelling shut, gasping for air while the caretaker locked the door and turned up the TV. She almost died on that cold hardwood floor. When Javier found out, he ruthlessly destroyed the caretaker and sent her to prison. He guarded Ella's hospital bed with terrifying intensity and even moved into her apartment to stop her panic attacks. Yet, when Ella finally broke down crying over her dead parents, his eyes turned to ice. "Losing emotional control over a juvenile past is an inefficient waste of energy." He sneered, treating her grief like a bad financial investment. Ella was completely bewildered. Why did this dangerous man protect her so fiercely, yet hate her past so deeply? It wasn't until his cousin visited the hospital that the cruel truth was revealed. Javier wasn't saving her out of kindness. He had been obsessed with Ella's mother—his family's adopted daughter who ran away years ago. To him, Ella wasn't a person to be loved. She was just a replacement asset, a ghost of the woman he never got over./1/112608/coverorgin.jpg?v=884c8f3c949449cd7a738dcf0957e500&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Runaway Heiress Returns For Revenge
Adelina returned to New York after three years in exile, determined to take back her family's failing company. But the moment she landed, she ran into her ruthless ex-fiancé, Gage Evans. He was holding a supermodel who was wearing Adelina's own custom, exclusive perfume. He trapped Adelina in his car and threw a ten-million-dollar check at her, telling her to go back to Paris and give up her legacy. "This world will eat you alive. Take it." Adelina tore up the check. She crashed her company's board meeting, using a secret will to oust her corrupt stepfather and stepbrother. But they lured her into a deadly trap: she had to increase profits by ten percent in six months, or lose all her shares. Desperate for capital, Adelina pitched to the city's top venture capital firm, only to find Gage waiting in the office. He and his cousin publicly humiliated her, calling her "corporate poison" for running away from their wedding three years ago, and brutally rejected her proposal. Adelina was pushed to the absolute edge, mocked and cornered by the man who was actively erasing her identity. She didn't understand why Gage was so determined to destroy her, yet had quietly shielded her from a freezing rainstorm just a day before. What was his real game? Standing in the torrential rain, Adelina wiped her face and pulled out her phone. She unblocked a contact she hadn't touched in three years. It was time to call in a monster of her own./1/109688/coverorgin.jpg?v=470f49dd616575ec4bdce82c7728378b&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Undercover CEO's Accidental Wife
At my family's charity gala, I was on stage presenting the drone that would secure my legacy. Suddenly, the power cut. My own brother and cousin had sabotaged the presentation, causing the drone to crash. As a cruel joke, a bizarre auction rule was invoked, pairing me with the maintenance worker injured in the chaos. My fiancé, Kurtis, didn't defend me. Instead, he publicly insisted that "rules are rules," abandoning me to the crowd's laughter. Humiliated and utterly alone, I was tied to a man they called a "glorified janitor" while my family did nothing. So I did the one thing they never saw coming. I walked up to the maintenance worker and proposed right there on stage. I thought it was just an act of spite. I had no idea my new husband was actually a powerful undercover CEO, and that our marriage would be the first step in my family's complete and utter ruin./0/84381/coverorgin.jpg?v=9281d1473aa0781d1fe85e1224da1734&imageMogr2/format/webp)
104 Sundays of Lies
My world reset every Sunday, leaving me a blank slate for my loving fiancé, Ethan, and my best friend, Maria, to carefully guide. Every week, Ethan would patiently show me home videos of our happy life, our engagement, and explain my amnesia, reassuring me of his devotion after my rock-climbing accident. But a crude tattoo mysteriously appearing on my ankle, spelling "HE'S LYING," hinted at a truth my conscious mind couldn' t hold. Then I found a hidden note: "THE PILLS ARE SLEEPING DRAFTS. DON' T TAKE THEM." My heart sank as I realized the "vitamins" Maria gave me nightly were keeping me trapped in this cycle. I started pretending to take them, creeping out of bed one night to hear Ethan and Maria laughing, discussing how they were siphoning millions from my family, and planning their Bali escape. That agonizing discovery was nothing compared to seeing them passionately kissing on the couch, my fiancé and my best friend. A wave of pure, white-hot rage, unlike anything I'd ever felt, consumed me. When I confronted them, Maria shoved me, sending my head crashing against the coffee table. I woke up in a hospital, staring at Ethan, and then it hit me: the floodgates opened. Two years of forgotten betrayals, 104 cycles of lies, every single horrifying detail slammed back into my mind. He hovered over me, thumb drive in hand, ready to reset me again. "No," I whispered, forcing my voice to tremble. "Should I know who you are?" Relief washed over his face. He thought I was broken again, unsuspecting. But this time, I remembered everything. And he had no idea the game had just irrevocably changed./1/113906/coverorgin.jpg?v=c4bd07f7461b8f2b9df7402027a10c08&imageMogr2/format/webp)
