Modern Books for Women
Bestsellers Ongoing Completed
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Marrying My Childhood Sweetheart
Richard is only a year older than me, but he has always used his status as my older brother to pressure me. When we were kids, he would scold me for skipping class, and as we grew up, he would still interfere in my love life. My friends joked, "Your brother can't possibly like you, right? You two aren't even real siblings." Since then, I deliberately distanced myself from him, but during the New Year, he suddenly brought home a girl. "Tricia, call her sister-in-law." That night, I locked myself in my room and cried uncontrollably. He pulled me out from under the covers and gently wiped away my tears. "You're allowed to make me mad by dating a boyfriend, but I can't be upset with you?"/0/58460/coverorgin.jpg?v=19a4fea0e89d1ad8e3aa67c4c116bdef&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Remarried To The False Heir
Tristan is the real young master in the drama. His father said, whoever between him and his brother first has a grandson, will be able to inherit billions of assets from the family. Three years after getting married, he was honest and sincere: "If you can't get pregnant, but she is pregnant, I can only choose her. You know how important a child is to me, right?" I twitched at the corner of my eye, but still didn't tell him the truth. Later, I married his brother and went to his house for dinner while pregnant. He said, "How is this possible? You clearly can't give birth!" Everyone looked at each other, and finally I broke the silence: "Tristan, why don't you go check it out?"/0/89061/coverorgin.jpg?v=2fa2a9770096fd96bd4748f8813b4f37&imageMogr2/format/webp)
I Revealed a Terrible Secret After my Daughter's Place was Take Away
After completing a top-secret mission for the government, I received a call from my daughter, Michelle Harper. "Mom! I got the offer from the UN Secretariat Department as an intern! I have worked hard to apply for it for a whole year!" Her voice on the other end was trembling with excitement. She immediately started preparing her visa documents and sent me three voice messages asking what she should prepare. However, a week later, her location watch remained fixed at the third floor of the administration building of their college. I secretly went to her college, only to find her tied up cruelly in the corner. The culprit, Lacey Palmer said with disdain, "How dare you, a nobody, take the position at the UN Secretary Department that my father helped me get? Are you courting death?" Even the advisor chimed in obsequiously, "Lacey's father is the richest man in the country, and her mother is a top expert. That position is meant for Lacey." I was stunned. The position at the UN Secretariat Department? It was the position Michelle worked so hard to win. They clearly talked about me and my husband, who was married into my family, by mentioning the top expert and the richest man. I immediately dialed a familiar number and asked, "I heard you have an illegitimate daughter. Is that true?"/0/93754/coverorgin.jpg?v=75cc32a67f6032da92ba0303ea00035e&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Eternal Desire: Risking My Heart On My Devilish Savior
Betrayed by her ex, Camila woke bound and dumped on a cursed ship, bloodied and shaken. Dylan cut through the gloom like a flare on open water. "If you want to live, come with me," he said. Gritting her teeth, she forced her body to move and stayed at his heels. After that night, she hovered at his side like a shadow. Trouble erupted when her ex's memory snapped back and obsession followed. That day, Dylan, normally cool, shattered a priceless antique, seized her waist, and kissed her hard. "Forget him. Whatever you want is yours." She challenged him. "Even your life?" He rasped, "Then it's yours."/1/109936/coverorgin.jpg?v=c2524de3116f3d61f25eb72ee887dfe6&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Throw Away the Ring and Build My Own Empire
At the proposal ceremony, my husband, Ethan Carrington's so-called true love, Chloe Langley, showed up uninvited, her pregnant belly on full display as she crashed the event. I, Nora Whitmore, didn't argue. I didn't make a scene. I simply took off the engagement ring and returned it in silence. In my previous life, I had desperately forced him to drive Chloe away, which led to her getting into a car accident and losing the baby. Five years into our marriage, I finally became pregnant. But when I was about to give birth, Ethan personally pulled the life-support equipment from my bedside. With a cold laugh, he told me the child in my womb was nothing more than a bastard he had arranged with some street thug, just to get revenge on me. "You owe her this. Today you'll pay it back, along with that bastard child." I fought back with the last strength I had left and drove a shard of broken glass straight into his throat. When I opened my eyes again, I was back at the proposal ceremony. To hell with love. This time, I would take control of the company myself and make sure they lost everything./1/112916/coverorgin.jpg?v=ba572dc6e7ddc93e2b01045996c591b6&imageMogr2/format/webp)
My Second Husband Was An Untouchable Tycoon?!
For years, Gabriela believed the man beside her would be the one she grew old with. They had loved each other since they were young, but in the end, all those years meant nothing beside a younger woman's smile. Returning from a business trip, she uncovered his betrayal with brutal clarity. Still, she did not cry or beg. She took out her phone, recorded every damning second, and filed for divorce the moment she could. Afterward, she rebuilt her life into something brighter, richer, and stronger, even marrying a powerful tycoon. As for her ex and his shameless mistress, they could rot together./0/98086/coverorgin.jpg?v=a47041151a1959d121ead6d63f911679&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Family iPad's Hidden Secret
A suggestive iMessage on the family iPad was the first crack in my perfect life. I thought my teenage son was in trouble, but anonymous Reddit users pointed out the chilling truth. The message wasn't for him. It was for my husband of twenty years, Anthony. The betrayal became a conspiracy when I overheard them talking. They were laughing about his affair with my son's "cool" school counselor. "She's just so... boring, Dad," my son said. "Why don't you just leave Mom and be with her?" My son didn't just know; he was rooting for my replacement. My perfect family was a lie, and I was the punchline. Then, a message from a lawyer on Reddit lit a fire in the wreckage of my heart. "Gather proof. Then burn his entire world to the ground." My fingers were steady as I typed back. "Tell me how."/1/102483/coverorgin.jpg?v=393aea15a7831f7f99aa3699b7f219b9&imageMogr2/format/webp)
You Chose Her: Now Watch Me Leave
I was the Hayes heiress, the silent engine behind my husband’s startup, and the woman carrying his child. But while I sat in the waiting room, rubbing my six-month-pregnant belly, Michael was on Instagram posting a photo of his "friend" Selena’s baby with the caption: *My little Prince, Michael II.* He claimed it was a joke. He claimed I was hormonal. But when Selena fell ill with leukemia, the mask finally slipped. He didn't just ask me to get tested for a bone marrow transplant; he begged me to cut myself open for the woman who treated me like an intruder in my own marriage. I asked him the only question that mattered: "If we were both dying, who would you save?" He didn't hesitate. "Selena." He lied to me about a business trip to Singapore so he could donate his kidney to her. He wanted to be her hero. He didn't know that while he was under anesthesia saving her, I was alone in a cold hospital room, losing our baby. When he finally woke up, expecting my devotion, he found the villa stripped bare. On his desk sat a signed divorce decree and a medical report: *Fetal Demise.* Underneath, I left one final note: *He would have had your eyes. But you were too busy looking at her.* I didn't just leave him. I took my money, erased my existence, and vanished into thin air./1/110918/coverorgin.jpg?v=cdc00c2dbf71d1765d22b4f9ef5b4e02&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Scar He Gave, The Queen I Became
I was dragged from the bottom of a pool, soaking wet and freezing, only to be accused by my husband of trying to drown his mistress. He believed her lies completely. He saw her feigned cough and trembling shoulders but was blind to my chattering teeth and the genuine terror in my eyes from my severe water PTSD. "Your jealousy is a sickness," he spat, ignoring my pleas. He threatened me with divorce and financial ruin for my family, all while his mistress, Isabelle, smirked at me from behind his back. He let me collapse onto the cold marble floor, turning his back on three years of marriage to comfort the woman who had set me up. The irony was suffocating. I was the one who had saved his life from a river years ago, an act that left me with a crippling phobia and a permanent scar he never noticed. He thought Isabelle was the traumatized victim. He thought my love was a transaction. That night, the love died. I walked away from his millions and the pathetic wife he thought I was. From the hidden lining of my clutch, I pulled out an encrypted phone he'd never seen and gave a single command: "Execute." My life as Mrs. Mueller was over. My real life was just beginning./0/81373/coverorgin.jpg?v=5307733f23e82f45db3cc6fd10792b00&imageMogr2/format/webp)
No Longer The Foolish Wife
The rejection letter for Danny' s after-school program landed like a physical blow. I just wanted a safe, affordable spot for my sweet five-year-old. But the reason shocked me: the spot was taken by "another child" of Sergeant First Class Tom Barnes – my husband. Tom admitted it was for Kyle, son of "Gold Star widow" Crystal, claiming he needed to help them for his promotion, casually dismissing Danny's needs. He then offered to take Danny to his duty station, "unofficially," to keep him out of Crystal's hair. Foolishly, I agreed, putting my boy on a Greyhound bus, his little backpack and beloved rocket ship t-shirt packed. Three days later, the call came: Danny was abducted. Tom arrived not with comfort, but screaming blame: "If you hadn't fussed... if you were stronger, this wouldn't have happened." He told me to "move on," then vanished back to Crystal and Kyle, leaving me in a silent, empty house, clutching a single, tattered piece of Danny' s blue t-shirt. The crushing guilt and unbearable emptiness drove me to swallow pills, praying for oblivion. How could the man I loved, the father of my son, so easily destroy our lives and then blame me? Why did I believe his lies, sacrificing my child for his career and his affair? The thought that I might have prevented it, if only I' d known the truth, was a tormenting torture. Then, one morning, I awoke in my own bed, the calendar reading May 15th-Danny' s application day. "Mommy? Are you awake?" That small voice, the sight of Danny, alive and whole, brought tears and a rush of crystal-clear memories. This time, I wouldn't be a victim. My fingers flew to the phone, straight to the Department of Defense Inspector General./1/104962/coverorgin.jpg?v=27aa93c3bce3fa43e0f05be1ae59000d&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Too Late Mr. Sterling: You Lost Me
I was the perfect fiancée to Archer Sterling, a tech mogul who demanded I be as polished as his marble countertops. I gave up my art and my identity to fit his world, believing our upcoming wedding was the start of our forever. A mysterious text led me to a hidden folder in a calculator app on Archer’s phone. Inside were photos of him with his assistant, Mia, and texts calling me a "dead fish" and "manageable" collateral for his upcoming IPO. The humiliation peaked at my final bridal fitting. Archer ditched me for a hotel tryst with Mia, leaving me to overhear the salon staff mocking me as a "clueless gold digger." When I collapsed in the hallway, barefoot and broken, Archer didn't offer a hand. He only scolded me for "making a scene" and ordered me to be "supportive" of his busy schedule. The seven years I spent molding myself into his ideal woman were a lie. I wasn't his partner; I was a character in a play he wrote for his investors. My love had been met with calculated contempt, and my sacrifices were treated as his due. That night, I found Mia’s silk stockings shoved in my guest bathroom. The scent of her perfume in my home was the final breaking point. When Archer tried to touch me, my skin crawled with a physical rejection I couldn't mask. I locked the door, shredded the stockings, and called the one man Archer feared: Julian Van Der Bilt. "Does your offer for help include getting me out of here?" I asked. "Pack a bag," Julian’s voice rumbled through the dark. "I'll be there in twenty minutes. Don't let him see you leave."/1/102556/coverorgin.jpg?v=60b15fb4dd1a1f728fc95fc07e222ac3&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Billionaire's Broken-Shoed Wife
I was the wife of a billionaire, but my shoes had holes in them. My hundred-dollar monthly allowance-the price for my family's million-dollar debt-had vanished on necessities. When I asked my husband, Jason, for a new pair, he told me not to bother him with trifles. Minutes later, a notification popped up on my phone. He had just donated fifty million dollars to a museum wing named after his ex-girlfriend. Then came the group chat from his circle of friends. "I heard Florence only gets a $100 allowance," one wife wrote. "My dog eats better than that!" Fifty million for another woman while I was being compared to a pet. The humiliation was a physical blow, and I realized he wasn't just stingy; he was actively trying to break me. But something inside me refused to shatter. I scrolled through my phone until I found the discreet ad I was looking for, a place whispered about by desperate women: "Elysian Fields." This wasn't about shoes anymore. This was about freedom. I pressed the call button./0/83054/coverorgin.jpg?v=89c4baeeb45d48fec8e8fc35a0f5bc2c&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Beyond Redemption: A Mother's Fury
The sunlight hit my face, bright and familiar. The scent of Mark' s pancakes drifted upstairs, and I could already picture Emily' s excited squeal. It was going to be a big day, a theme park adventure. A perfect family morning. But then the memory hit me like a sledgehammer. This wasn' t just a morning; it was that morning. The day Emily died. Last time, my husband Mark and his mistress Chloe had dismissed my daughter Emily' s sudden illness as "faking it." They wanted their perfect weekend. They waited too long. Peanuts. An allergic reaction. My sweet girl died because they prioritized their illicit affair over her life. My heart hammered, a drumbeat of terror and rage. It wasn' t a nightmare. It was real. Again. How could fate be this cruel, this twisted, giving me this tormenting déjà vu? But a cold, steely certainty settled over me: not this time. Not ever again. I flung back the covers, hands shaking, but my resolve was iron-hard. I had been given a surreal, terrifying second chance. Emily would live. And as for Mark and Chloe? They would learn that a mother' s fury, born from unimaginable loss, would make them wish they' d never seen this day. This was a new game, and I was playing to win./0/89096/coverorgin.jpg?v=448bc8e2843a27a036aef17c057895de&imageMogr2/format/webp)
I Married My Ex's Uncle
On my wedding day, the high school bully who once tormented me crashed the ceremony. I believed Carsten Morgan would stand firmly by my side. But he let go of my hand and walked decisively toward her. Later, when I sued the bully and exposed her past harassment, Carsten suppressed the case. He even countersued me for defaming her reputation. Overnight, I became the internet's laughingstock. At a banquet, Carsten sneered with contempt, "Those scars on your body disgust me." He added, "Give up. I've got a filthy-rich uncle backing me. You can't win." The next moment, the uncle he bragged about wrapped an arm around my waist. He whispered softly in my ear, "If I send them all to prison, will you choose me?"/0/91369/coverorgin.jpg?v=8589747b2b97feda4147e8a03dd56ab8&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Irresistible Temptation: From The Meek Wife To The Daring Star
One year into marriage, Yvonne realized she was nothing more than a substitute for someone else's memory. When his true love reappeared, Julian tossed a divorce contract her way. "She's back. We're finished," he said flatly. The secret of her pregnancy stayed hidden. Yvonne fought the urge to cry, signed her freedom, and disappeared. Five years on, cameras flashed as Yvonne, radiant in red, strode across a film festival stage with her bright-eyed son. Julian's hands clenched as he watched. "Sir, the boy's four and a half," whispered his shaken assistant. Then, he rushed to the film set only to witness an A-list actor gently wrapping his arm around Yvonne's waist. "I've booked your favorite restaurant for tonight's celebration." The little boy blinked his innocent eyes at Julian, asking, "Who are you? One of my mom's crazy admirers?" He cornered her in the dressing room, his voice hoarse as he said, "Let's remarry." Her lips curled slightly, but the smile didn't reach her eyes. "The curtain's down; it's time to end this scene." But this time, he wasn't letting go./1/104102/coverorgin.jpg?v=20260106223609&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Secret Heiress Returns: Ruining My Cheating Husband
I stood in the middle of the gala I had spent months curating, waiting for the perfect moment to tell my husband, Gabe, that he was going to be a father. Instead, I watched him place a possessive hand on the stomach of my best friend, Harper. A reporter nearby whispered the truth that stopped my heart: Harper was pregnant with Gabe’s child, and they were announcing it after the IPO. When I confronted him, Gabe didn't apologize. He looked at me with cold calculation and told me a scandal would ruin the company. Then came the ultimatum that shattered my soul. He wanted me to hide in the countryside, give birth in secret, and hand my baby over to his mistress to raise. "Don't be selfish," he said. "She needs this baby more than you do." When I refused, his mother had me dragged away and locked in my bedroom. My windows were sealed, and my own parents sold me out, releasing a statement that I had suffered a mental breakdown. I was trapped, starving, and waiting for them to induce labor so they could steal my child. But they made one fatal mistake. To keep me "calm," Gabe handed me my phone for five minutes. I didn't call the police; the Sullivans owned them. I dialed a number I had found in my adoption papers years ago. A number belonging to Anthony Dean, the most dangerous man on the East Coast. "They are going to kill my baby," I whispered into the receiver. The voice on the other end was low, terrifying, and promised absolute violence. "I'm coming."/1/104645/coverorgin.jpg?v=ac4ab0653b0c31411d0448cc1af43e74&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Barren Wife's Revenge: It Was You
On our seventh anniversary, my husband Dante tossed divorce papers onto the desk. He looked at me with cold indifference, his hand resting on the swollen belly of his nineteen-year-old mistress. "You are barren, Seraphina," he spat. "She carries my legacy. You carry nothing but ghosts." When I tried to argue, he shoved me. I fell hard, my back slamming against the concrete floor of the studio. Pain tore through my abdomen, and warm blood began to pool beneath my red dress. The tragedy wasn't just the violence; it was the truth he didn't know. The IVF hadn't failed. I was pregnant with the son he had desperately prayed for. And in his rage to protect a mistress carrying a stranger's baby, he had just killed his own flesh and blood. He stepped over my bleeding body and took her to the Commission Auction to celebrate. He thought I was broken. He thought I was finished. But he forgot that I knew all his secrets. I woke up in the hospital, signed the papers that froze his entire fortune, and walked straight into the gala. I stood before the most dangerous men in New York and threw a medical file onto Dante's table. "You killed your real son today when you pushed me," I said, my voice slicing through the silence. "As for hers? It can't be yours, Dante." "Because according to this, you have been sterile for seven years."/1/100366/coverorgin.jpg?v=df57dcb288010959318f31bc7f98ff37&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Justice Served By My True Love
For seven years, I was the secret wife of tech billionaire Ethan Richardson, the ghostwriter of his success. I sacrificed everything for him, only to be discarded for my own protégée after he forced me through five abortions. I rebuilt my life from the ashes, finally finding peace. But at our ten-year reunion, Ethan reappeared. He saw my five-year-old daughter, Mia, and a terrifying obsession ignited in his eyes, convinced she was the child I had hidden from him. His madness escalated until he kidnapped her, luring me to an abandoned warehouse with a chilling threat. "Come alone if you want to see our daughter again." How could this man, who left me to miscarry our last child alone in a hospital, now dare to call himself a father? He offered me a twisted deal: our 'family' back together, in exchange for my daughter's life. But he made one fatal mistake. He never bothered to find out who my new husband was./0/90060/coverorgin.jpg?v=15e8e9556895a7d8ec5e3e778da203f1&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Price of His Perfect Life
I was a top hand model, my hands insured for seven figures. They bought me a life in a sleek Central Park apartment and a diamond ring from my fiancé, Chase Strong. At my engagement party, he insisted I get a manicure from his high school friend, Karis. She soaked my hands in what she called a "new cuticle softener." It was acid. A week later, I found out I was pregnant. I thought a baby would fix the peeling skin and raw blisters, that it would fix us. But when I told Chase, his face was a mask of cold fury. He said a baby didn't fit his plan. He drove me to a desolate mountain, pushed me out of the car, and told me he was leaving me there to think about how easily he could take everything away. The man I was going to marry, the father of my unborn child, left me to die in the freezing darkness. He didn't just ruin my hands and my career; he wanted to break my spirit. But as the sun rose, something inside me shifted from fear to ice-cold rage. I would not let his child be another chain to bind me to my jailer. When he returned, expecting to find me broken, I looked him in the eye and told him, "I'm getting rid of the baby." Then I turned and started walking down the mountain, toward a life he could never touch./0/82029/coverorgin.jpg?v=1cf18ff71d44fc6a3a88b39c32109d4f&imageMogr2/format/webp)
