Modern Books for Women
Bestsellers Ongoing Completed
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Wrong Room, Wrong Groom: Now He Won't Let Me Go
Isabella thought marrying into the Evans family would save her and her sister from two miserable marriages. Instead, one wedding-night mix-up threw them into a new nightmare. After ending up in the wrong room, Isabella was switched to stern Alexander, while her sister was paired with his playboy brother, Nathaniel. With the family demanding pregnancies within three months, she clung to hope that her distant husband was warming to her. Then she discovered his secret contraception and a message that shattered her heart. "She's nothing but a burden you can't get rid of." When she chose to leave, Alexander suddenly knelt before her, his eyes flushed red. "Babe, please tell me how I can make you stay..." Her sister shielded her. "Don't worry, sis. I'll help you with the divorce proceedings." Her brother-in-law also support her. "Can you persuade your sister to stay? You know I'm with you on this divorce, right?"/0/80850/coverorgin.jpg?v=d4ae71a59bf37866e838c7f4b9e91beb&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Eighteen-Year Lie
For eighteen years, I’ve been told a lie. My husband, Mark, my doctors, even my own parents, convinced me I suffered from a delusional disorder, that my deep ache for a daughter named Emily was just a symptom. They said I only had one child, my sweet son Ethan. Yet, I always felt a part of me was missing. Then, on Ethan’s wedding day, a tarnished silver locket tumbled out from under my bed – the very one I gave my daughter, Emily, for her fifth birthday, the day she vanished. The fog of medication burned away, replaced by searing clarity. Emily was real. Mark had lied. I stormed into the wedding reception, publicly accusing him of murder, of burying Emily under our oak tree. But instead of finding justice, I was dragged away by the police, deemed delusional, and forcibly committed to a psychiatric facility. There, Mark and my parents finally ‘confessed’ a horrifying truth: Emily died in a car crash I caused, and her memory was erased from my mind to ‘protect’ me. Wracked with grief and guilt, I visited Emily’s supposed grave. But how could a daughter I’d barely remembered, who allegedly died eighteen years ago, still whisper ‘Save me’ in my dreams? And why did her headstone, beneath an ancient oak, look… disturbingly new? My bare hands clawed through the earth until they struck wood. The small casket, still pristine. Not decaying, not old. And utterly, horrifyingly empty. Emily isn't dead. My daughter is alive, and Mark, my husband, is a monster. The fight for Emily has just begun./0/64952/coverorgin.jpg?v=e3b2403bd4c60d2010d6ed27d2bb8aba&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Billionaire Sugar Baby
Desperate to make ends meet, young stripper Emma catches the eye of enigmatic billionaire Robert at the club. Their age gap and different worlds aside, he offers her a proposition: be his sugar baby and he'll take care of her financial woes. But when a surprise pregnancy tests their arrangement, Emma must navigate the billionaire's lavish lifestyle and his growing demands. When her mother's bills at the hospital has been paid, she opposed their marriage.As their relationship deepens, can she overcome her troubled past and the Billionaire's past? Or will their differences and family issues tear them apart?"/1/116215/coverorgin.jpg?v=e677c3d9a06548ea1bddeaaaf8a1e8de&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Crushed By The Queen I Once Discarded
I was eight months pregnant. The office was dangerously hot, so I turned on the AC, despite my husband's assistant complaining that the cold worsened her period cramps. That evening, my husband Austen accused me of putting his assistant in the hospital. To "make it up to me," he invited me to a gathering at an exclusive club. But I didn't wake up at a party. I woke up locked inside a glass-walled freezer. Outside the glass, Austen stood with his arm wrapped around a perfectly healthy Deb. He raised a champagne flute to the city’s elite, toasting to “cooling down” his hot-headed wife. His security guards stripped me to my underwear and forced my bare knees onto the ice. They poured buckets of freezing water over my head and my swollen belly. "Austen, please! Think about the baby!" I screamed and begged, but Deb discreetly pricked her own hand, showing Austen a drop of blood and crying that my cruelty was causing her ulcers to bleed. Austen's face twisted with rage. He called me a poison and ordered his men to pour more ice directly onto my skin. Lying on the freezing metal floor, I felt a warm trickle of blood run down my legs. I was losing our child, and the man I loved was watching it happen. But I didn't die in that freezing hell. When I woke up in the hospital, my supposedly dead billionaire father was holding my hand. I didn't shed a single tear for my broken marriage. I was going to take everything Austen had./0/85717/coverorgin.jpg?v=9f58c374e75bca5c68d600ff6181b9c8&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Wife Who Stole My Dreams
The call came on a Tuesday, shattering my world: my parents, gone. My startup, built on their dreams, imploded soon after, leaving me with crushing debt and hollow ambition. Friends vanished, family offered dismissive condolences, and I was left a failure, a walking tragedy they wanted no part of. Then, Emily Vance appeared. She organized my parents' funeral with quiet grace, held my hand as their caskets were lowered, and publicly defied her powerful family, declaring, "I' m marrying him. He needs me." For five years, she was my rock as I launched and shuttered ninety-nine ventures, each ending in failure. Tonight, our fifth anniversary, I was ready to celebrate her unwavering belief. But through the quiet hum of the restaurant, I heard Chloe' s cynical voice slice through the air: "Ninety-nine failures, Em. When are you going to drop the charity case?" Emily' s familiar laugh, once my comfort, now twisted into a chilling sound. "Patience, Chloe. It' s almost over. Mark' s company just secured another round of funding. All thanks to Liam' s latest 'failure' ." Mark Turner. Her ex. My rival. The man whose company eerily mirrored my own failed concepts. My roses felt like lead. "You' re still feeding him Liam' s data?" Chloe asked, awe in her voice. "Of course," Emily purred, dripping with satisfaction. "Every core algorithm, every business plan. Liam' s a genius at ideas, but a terrible businessman. Mark is brilliant at execution. It' s the perfect partnership, really. They just don' t both know they' re in it." My salvation was a lie. Our marriage, a business transaction. My grief, my struggle, my desperate hope-all harvested and fed to another man. "I' m proposing to Mark tonight," she continued, delivering the final blow. "This anniversary dinner is the last one, I promise. A final goodbye to five years of wasted time." The world dissolved around me. My entrepreneurial dreams, killed not by incompetence, but by the most intimate betrayal imaginable. I wouldn't go quietly. Not as the broken man she thought I was. I stepped away, the plan already forming to collect every piece of evidence. My salvation had been a lie. Now, my ruin would be her truth./1/115242/coverorgin.jpg?v=a684be0296e056920b72010bdea1540e&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Reborn Heiress: The Vicious Comeback
I was the eldest daughter of the powerful Kirk family, sent away to a Swiss sanatorium to recover from my supposed mental illness. But my stepmother, Johnie, never intended for me to get better. She sent her personal cleaners to drag me onto a plane back to Washington D.C. In my past life, I didn't know they were assassins. I was forcefully injected with heavy sedatives and locked in a secret torture chamber inside our luxury estate. My stepmother and cousin skimmed my inheritance while watching me suffer. They framed me as a crazy addict, and my own father, a sitting Senator, turned a blind eye to protect his political career. "Her political value is gone, just get rid of her quietly." That was the last thing I heard my father say before I was brutally slaughtered by my own family. Until my last breath, I couldn't understand why they hated me so much. Why did my father let them force those pills down my throat? Why was my life worth less than my stepmother's public image? Opening my eyes again, the freezing sensation of lake water filling my lungs vanished. I was back in the VIP room of the St. Moritz Sanatorium in 2023. It was the exact morning before the cleaners walked through my door with uncapped syringes. This time, I wouldn't just survive. I was going to cut the throat of the Kirk family./0/80526/coverorgin.jpg?v=20260106193720&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Sister Who Tried To End Me
Our wedding night. The acrid smell of smoke choked me as roaring flames consumed the beautiful new home I’d bought for Chloe. A heavy vase smashed against my skull. Through the blinding pain, I heard her voice, sharp and cold: "You and Mom and Dad ruined my love. I’ve given everything to Ryan. You destroyed my life. Now you can die with me.” The searing heat enveloped me, then, nothing. I gasped, sitting bolt upright in my own bed, not the master suite, entirely free of smoke or the ominous red decorations. My heart hammered against my ribs; disbelief warred with the dizzying joy of being alive. But then my eyes landed on the digital clock: 11:03 PM. June 12th. This was *the* night. The night Chloe was drugged, the horrifying prelude to my murder. A chilling whisper snaked down my spine as Chloe’s strained voice drifted from next door: “Ethan… I don’t feel good…” The phantom pain of shattered ceramic returned, a stark reminder of her betrayal. My first instinct screamed for me to flee, to escape her, to get out while I still could. But a cold, sharp thought pierced through my fear: Chloe was reborn too, and she was still entangled with Ryan. This time, I wouldn't just run. I would expose their schemes, break free from her toxic grip, and ensure my family’s actual tragedy never happened./1/118811/coverorgin.jpg?v=5269ee6cfd8ea414266dc9072a562e1e&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Shattered Vows: Leaving My Toxic Billionaire Husband
Chloe Hayes believed she had the perfect life: a powerful husband, a beautiful estate, and a five-year-old son she adored. But a single lab report shattered her reality. Her son Ethan's blood type was A. Chloe and her husband Julian were both type O. Genetically, it was an absolute impossibility. Rushing home in a panic, she found her husband looking at his young, beautiful ward, Sabrina, with a tenderness he never showed Chloe. When Ethan saw Chloe, the boy she had raised for five years hid behind Sabrina and screamed. "I want Aunt Sabrina to be my new mommy!" Julian didn't reprimand the boy. Instead, he coldly gaslit Chloe, calling her a lunatic. When Chloe tried to defend herself, Julian fiercely protected his mistress. He threatened to destroy Chloe's reputation, freeze her bank accounts, and take Ethan away forever if she dared to walk out the door. Looking at the three of them standing together, the horrifying truth finally clicked. The specific IVF clinic Julian insisted on. Sabrina's obsessive care during her pregnancy. Chloe hadn't just been cheated on; she had been used as an unwitting incubator for her husband and his mistress's child. The dutiful wife died in that moment. Chloe packed a single suitcase, secretly transferred all her pre-marital assets offshore, and collected three strands of hair for a DNA test. Leaving the divorce papers behind, she walked out of the gilded cage to begin her ruthless counterattack./1/101291/coverorgin.jpg?v=d9bf126d256c945e16b9cc6c4fdac5d7&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Simp No More and He Lost It
Everyone knew in her social circle that Verena was free-spirited and outspoken, notorious for frequently changing boyfriends. But no one expected that at a friend's gathering, she would fall head over heels for the introverted and distant physics professor, Lanny. After months of unsuccessful pursuit, Verena felt defeated. "My family has arranged a marriage for me, so I won't bother you anymore," she said. Lanny, usually calm and composed, lost control in an instant. "Don't get married. I promise I'll date you." They were together for two years, during which Verena enjoyed a blissful romance. However, while planning their wedding, she discovered that Lanny's true love was her half-sister! She quietly canceled the wedding and vanished from Lanny's life. Yet, he became frantic, desperately searching for her whereabouts./0/85393/coverorgin.jpg?v=20260106210050&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Scorned By Family, Freed By Fury
The charity gala was supposed to be my final act of freedom, a staged exit from a life that wasn' t mine. Instead, it ended with the shriek of shattering glass, my sister' s scream, and the cold accusation in Charlotte Sterling' s eyes, a theatrical terror I knew was fake as she bled onto the pristine marble from a self-inflicted wound. Suddenly, every eye in the room, including my adoptive family' s, landed on me, fixing me with a gaze riddled with panic, concern, and finally, pure hatred, as Charlotte whispered her fabricated story of being pushed to our mother. "Get her out of my sight," my adoptive father, Richard Sterling, snarled, his voice a low growl directed solely at me, a torrent of fury replacing the warmth that once existed. My adoptive brother, Ethan, dragged me from the ballroom, away from the judging crowd, and into the raw, damp confines of the basement wine cellar, proclaiming I would stay there until I understood what I had done. For two years, I had been Ava Miller, the grateful orphan, tasked with exposing Sterling Corp' s illicit operations, but now, abandoned by my agency and starved by my supposed family, a chilling realization ignited within me. I wasn' t just a victim of betrayal; I was an agent, and if I got out, I wouldn't just pick up the pieces-I would build something entirely new, something forged in vengeance./0/79553/coverorgin.jpg?v=ef3bcb212aef23b5b503a925c0201d50&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Other Woman in Our Marriage
My marriage to Ethan Cole, a man revered as a titan of industry, felt less like a partnership and more like a never-ending siege. After years of fighting for even a sliver of his attention, I found him on the floor of his study, fixated on a small, wooden box. Inside, nestled on velvet, were forbidden relics: a child's drawing, a pressed flower, and a faded photo of Olivia Vance, the girl he'd been raised with. The raw, yearning expression on his face, a look he had never once given me, confirmed the crushing truth: his emotional unavailability was solely reserved for her. Our sterile, business-transaction marriage was a smokescreen for his lifelong obsession, culminating in him abandoning me in a skyscraper fire as he pulled Olivia to safety. He then brushed off my concussion from Olivia's attack, prioritized her minor burn for a top surgeon, and offered obscene diamonds to buy my silence, while she moved into our home to subtly torture me. His blindness to Olivia's manipulation, his monumental arrogance, and his consistent disregard for my pain made me realize the devastating reality: he didn't just not feel for me, he chose to torment me instead. But as I saved myself from those flames, a cold, hard resolve replaced the agony. My love for him, long dead, was now replaced by a fierce determination: I would reclaim my life, expose his deceit, and make him truly understand the cost of his choices./1/121407/coverorgin.jpg?v=f2dea4db5dde5a21eaf27e73b5398c57&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Divorced Wife's Secret Triplet Heirs
For three years, Ellie Mills endured a loveless contract marriage and her mother-in-law's daily torment, all to pay for her sick mother's medical bills. But the moment her billionaire husband's first love returned, he coldly threw a divorce agreement on her vanity table. "This transaction is over." Ellie was cast out like disposable garbage. She signed the papers, left a one-dollar bill on the bed as a mocking tip for his services, and walked away. Soon after, she discovered she was pregnant with triplets. But during a difficult premature delivery in a foreign country, the doctor tragically informed her that her youngest son had died. The loss of her baby became a permanent, agonizing scar. She couldn't understand why fate was so cruel, taking her child away while the man who ruined her life prepared for his grand wedding. For six years, she transformed into a top Parisian designer, vowing never to return to the city that held her deepest grief. That was until her genius six-year-old twins secretly booked them a flight back to Miami. In a hotel hallway, Ellie suddenly bumped into a crying, wealthy little boy who had the exact same face as her son. The child she mourned for six years wasn't dead, and her twins were already executing a master plan to make their jerk dad pay./1/118487/coverorgin.jpg?v=075fb460b355a04020353e0b6470accf&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Too Late For Regret, Mr. Carlisle
I was dying in a mangled SUV during a freak blizzard, my ribs crushed by the steering column. With my last ounce of strength, I called my husband for help. But Bennett just impatiently told me not to ruin his dinner reservations. Through the phone, I heard the sweet, cloying laughter of his mistress, Celine. I even heard my own son cheerfully calling her "Auntie Celine" and asking for ice cream. "Your son is having a good time. For once, don't make everything about you. Stop this ridiculous game and go home." Bennett growled those words and hung up on me to go shopping with her. For ten years, I had given up my family's corporate empire to be his perfect wife, only to be entirely erased and replaced. As the freezing cold seeped into my bones, I realized the restrictive prenup I signed for love was just a cage. I died alone in the snow, filled with rage. I hated Bennett for his cruelty, and Celine for her lies. But most of all, I hated myself for being so weak and believing love was enough. As my heart gave its final beat, a desperate thought burned through the dark void. If I could do it all again... Opening my eyes, I was no longer in that cold, metal tomb. I was back at my son's fifth birthday party three years ago. Celine was just about to serve him the cake laced with his deadly allergen. This time, I wouldn't be the hysterical wife taking the blame. I packed my bags, walked out the door, and told him to expect the divorce papers./0/58464/coverorgin.jpg?v=20250225135247&imageMogr2/format/webp)
In Love With My Ex's Uncle
On the day of the wedding, Brendan left me and went to find his true love. When I called him, he, who had always been gentle to me, showed impatience for the first time, saying, "It's just a wedding, I'll make it up to you when I get back." Feeling disheartened, I suggested calling off the wedding. Brendan thought I was just being stubborn, and in the face of friends' advice, he said, "It's okay, when she calms down, she will come find me." It wasn't until Edrence, the prince, posted our marriage certificate that Brendan suddenly went crazy and came knocking on my door. When he saw the man who opened the door, he was slightly stunned. And I, standing behind the man, with a blush still on my face, leaned forward and asked, "Nephew, what brings you to see your auntie so late?"/0/23748/coverorgin.jpg?v=7f85afa4490c79063a81c3e683ec7769&imageMogr2/format/webp)
BET!(The all fell for her)
Meet Emily Brown, seventeen year old highschool drop out who lost the only people she called her parents. She was taken from the streets by her late guardian. When they died, she was back again on the streets again. Working as a pizza deliverer. She was kicked out of her workplace cause of a little misunderstanding....... And she found a work vacancy at a big place, With the people she's been dreaming to work with when she makes it. Will she get the job? Will fate be of help to her? There are good and bad moments. Sweet and sour moments Memories that can never be forgotten.... Find out in this intrudging story......./1/127572/coverorgin.jpg?v=a870d84a81446ff39d572d55041c90fd&imageMogr2/format/webp)
His Forgotten Night, Our Secret Son
Six years ago, I gave Ryan Carter one reckless night. By morning, the rising hockey star was gone. A few weeks later, I was staring at two pink lines-and the desperate call I made to him went unanswered. So I raised our son alone. Now Ryan has been traded to Boston. Worse, he is the newest superstar client of my fiercely protective older brother. At my brother's engagement party, five-year-old Oliver runs straight into Ryan's path. One look at the boy's cornflower blue eyes and unmistakable dimple, and Ryan knows. His shock looks real. So does his devastation. Ryan swears he never received my call. That while I was discovering I was pregnant, his mother was fighting for her life in the ICU. Maybe it is the truth. Maybe it is another polished lie from a notorious playboy with a violent temper and a talent for breaking hearts. I should protect Oliver. Protect myself. Keep Ryan far away from the life I built without him. But Ryan Carter has never backed down from a fight-and now he is fighting for his son. And for me. The chemistry between us still burns as fiercely as it did six years ago. But wanting him is easy. Trusting him with my heart-and our son's-is another matter entirely. Because the only thing more dangerous than hating the man who abandoned me is believing he never meant to leave./0/38673/coverorgin.jpg?v=5b5a3963293ac57aef364f91c7f7c4cb&imageMogr2/format/webp)
My Bossy Husband
PLOT: Rachel was dumbfounded when she realized she was betrothed to someone she does not know but after realizing it is her father’s last wish, she has no choice but to get married. Unknown to her, her betrothed is none other than her bossy CEO at work who is bent on getting her fired. Leo has always been a conservative, arrogant, cold-hearted person who cares about nothing besides his friends. But things began to take a turn when they both started to get attracted to each other. Can they be able to this attraction/1/105834/coverorgin.jpg?v=a9c0ddb20043431fba754883aa83c443&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Surgeon's Revenge: My Ex-Husband's Regret
The view from our twenty-million-dollar penthouse was stunning, but all I could see was the cracked screen of my phone. A single message from a contact named Sienna had just appeared: "Game On." For four years, I had worn the shapeless beige cardigans and played the quiet, submissive wife the elite Rutledge family demanded. "Dorothea is back in the city," my husband Hunter said, refusing to meet my eyes as he pushed the divorce papers toward me. He offered a "generous" settlement, patronizingly claiming that with my felony record and "creative resume," I’d be living on the streets without his charity. He had no idea that while he was rehearsing his breakup speech, I was already zipping up a duffel bag filled with cash and a passport in a name he didn't recognize. His sister Kamala didn't even wait for me to pack before she was in our bedroom, calling me a leech and trying to destroy the only photo I had of my mother. I didn't cry or beg; I simply dropped Hunter’s favorite three-million-dollar Ming vase, watched it shatter, and walked out the door with a cold smile. That night, I traded my sensible flats for a crimson silk dress and lethal heels, leaving Hunter’s jaw on the floor when he saw me at an exclusive club. He watched in horror as I smashed a vodka bottle over a harasser's head, still believing I was a broken woman who needed his protection. He didn't know the truth until his grandmother finally revealed that I was the anonymous investor who had rescued their company from bankruptcy. I had gone to prison to protect his father's reputation, wearing the shame for years so their family name wouldn't implode. Hunter fell to his knees in the driveway, begging for a second chance and promising to dump his mistress, but the anger in my heart had already turned to ice. The man I had sacrificed my life for was now just a stranger I used to know. "The opposite of love isn't hate, Hunter. It's indifference." I climbed into a purple supercar as my phone buzzed with a call from Mount Sinai Hospital. My medical license was reinstated, and a high-profile trauma case was waiting for my hands. Iris the housewife was dead, and Dr. Gutierrez was finally back in play./0/85394/coverorgin.jpg?v=7947e110daf88cbf003b4545798884a8&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Reborn From Betrayal: A Mother's Vow
The memory was a ghost that never left me, a film of a life I had already lived and lost. In that other life, the end was cold and dark: my son, Tom, gave up, worn down by his father Mark' s betrayal and the world turning its back on us. Mark, my husband, the man I' d sacrificed everything for, watched as his wealthy new lover, Jessica, and her son, Kevin, systematically destroyed Tom' s future, stealing his scholarship and publicly humiliating him. When Tom tragically left me alone in a world that had turned its back, Mark was at a gala, accepting an award, uncaring. I drowned in despair, until I woke up, not dead, not grieving, but back. Back to the hospital breakroom, the cold coffee, the smell of cafeteria chili. The day it all started to unravel. This was my chance, a chance I didn' t ask for but would not waste. I tore off my badge, left my hospital shift, and ran ten blocks, the rage fueling my every step. I burst into the high school, just as Mark, the socialite, and her smug son stood there, my Tom nowhere in sight. "Where is my son?" I demanded, my voice raw, ready to set their perfect world on fire. Mark denied everything, calling me "unwell," making me look like the crazy ex-wife. Then, Kevin pushed Tom, and Mark, in front of everyone, coddled Kevin, while my boy bled. He even tried to send us away, telling me to pack our things and disappear. But the final straw was Kevin, burning Tom' s precious family quilt, and Mark, instead of punishing him, blamed me. My son, seeing his father' s utter disregard, declared, "You' re not my father!" And Mark, in a fit of rage, raised his hand to strike Tom. I threw myself in front of my son, taking the brutal slap that echoed the pain of a lifetime of betrayal. I wouldn' t let my son get tired. I would fight. The next morning, I took Tom' s hand, and we marched directly into the lion' s den-General Miller' s office at Fort Connolly Army Base. I knelt, a humiliated-yet-determined mother, begging for help. "My husband is destroying our lives, and we have nowhere else to turn. Please, just give us five minutes of your time." This time, justice would not be denied./0/79554/coverorgin.jpg?v=2053f1eecceff6f4102d17138ffb4635&imageMogr2/format/webp)
