Modern Books for Women
Bestsellers Ongoing Completed
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His Shield, Her Secret Empire
I fell for Kade Livingston, the campus king. To protect his family's reputation, he asked me to be his "shield," making me endure vicious bullying and even a kidnapping as a supposed test of my love. I endured it all, until his fragile stepsister, Dani, stole my most personal work—a photography series honoring my late mother. She didn't just steal it; she twisted my art into a grotesque, pornographic mockery of her memory. When I tried to expose her, Kade destroyed all my evidence. He then had me kidnapped and beaten, leaving me for dead, all to protect his stepsister's crime and hide the twisted nature of their bond. Lying bruised in a hospital bed, I finally understood. He never loved me. I was just a disposable pawn in his family's sick game. My disguise as a plain student, meant to keep me safe, had only made me a target for her jealousy. But they made one fatal mistake. They thought they were destroying Holly Erickson, a quiet, unremarkable girl. They had no idea they were messing with K.B. Barry, the secretly world-famous author with the power to ruin them all. Today, at the photography competition where they plan to celebrate their crime, I will make my first-ever public appearance and show them what happens when you break a queen./1/109681/coverorgin.jpg?v=20260228215001&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Eight Years Of His Cold Betrayal
After eight years in a cold marriage, I watched my husband, Damian, run past me during a raging fire. He ignored my screams, his only focus on saving another woman. That night, he coldly admitted he never loved me. Our entire marriage was just a business deal he was forced into. But his betrayal didn't end there. His mistress, Aida, framed my innocent younger brother for a crime he didn't commit. Damian believed her lies without question. He stood by as she had my brother murdered in his hospital bed. He even forced me to crawl over broken glass to apologize for "upsetting" her. The final blow came when he threatened me with my mother' s heirloom box, not knowing it held my brother' s ashes. He had taken everything from me-my love, my family, my dignity. He thought he had broken me. But he only forged me into a weapon. Now, I'm back. And as the new majority shareholder of his company, I'm here to make him pay for every last sin./0/55241/coverorgin.jpg?v=3191b838ee796eccb5500eda41cad7dd&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Entangled Hearts: Falling For My Ugly Wife
After a passionate night, Verena left some money and wanted to leave, but was held by her companion. "Isn't it your turn to make me happy?" Verena, always disguising herself as ugly, slept with her fiance's uncle, Darren, in order to escape her engagement with her unfaithful fiance. Darren had respect and admiration. Word of his romantic escapades circulated, some saying they saw him kissing a lady against a wall and others calling it gossip. Who could ever tame Darren's heart? Then, shockingly, Darren was caught bending down to help Verena with her shoes, all to score a kiss from her!/1/103893/coverorgin.jpg?v=4e463747328435b3d78c0b0a26e11857&imageMogr2/format/webp)
His Unwanted Wife, My New Dawn
For six years, I was the wife of a tech billionaire with crippling mysophobia. To my husband, Killian, I was a contaminant he was forced to tolerate for a business merger, a ghost in my own home. But for his mistress, the influencer Isabel, every rule was broken. He worshipped her, believing she was the angel who' d saved him from a near-fatal climbing accident two years ago. The truth was, I was the one who braved a blizzard to rescue him, suffering severe frostbite in the process. But he laughed in my face, calling me too fragile. He knelt on a filthy police station floor to touch her bare feet, yet he' d recoiled from my touch for years. He destroyed my grandmother' s priceless locket because she wanted it. He forced me to kneel and apologize for her lies, threatening my family's company if I refused. The final humiliation came when he publicly declared her the true mistress of the house and made me climb a dangerous, thorny hill on my injured ankle to pick roses for her. As I stumbled back, covered in mud and blood, I felt nothing. The love I had stubbornly held onto was finally, completely dead. I walked away that night with the signed divorce papers in my hand. My old life was over, and my fight for a new one had just begun./0/71667/coverorgin.jpg?v=e65993d15d413f310ea58f6d28c153c6&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Guarded Desire
When Logan Carter, an ex-military operative, is assigned as the personal bodyguard to Eleanor Sinclair, the elegant yet broken wife of ruthless billionaire Richard Sinclair, he expects another standard job. But nothing could prepare him for the dark secrets lurking behind the pristine walls of the Sinclair mansion. Eleanor isn't just a trophy wife; she's a prisoner in a loveless, abusive marriage. As Logan watches over her, he begins to see the bruises she hides, the pain in her eyes, and the silent screams she swallows. The more he learns, the more he realizes that his mission isn't just to protect her-it's to save her. And in doing so, he finds himself falling for the one woman he can't have. But love isn't enough. To free Eleanor, Logan will have to risk everything-even his own life./1/100608/coverorgin.jpg?v=b84546977e849a5bcfd12a628a5ef12a&imageMogr2/format/webp)
My Heart, His Spare Part
My bodyguard, Grant, took the full force of a speeding car meant for me. In that moment, I realized I loved him. He was my protector, and I thought his fierce devotion was mine alone. But in the hospital, I overheard the truth. He hadn't saved me; he'd saved my kidney. I wasn't the woman he loved. I was just the "best option" for his sick sister's transplant. Every tender gesture, every watchful glance, was a lie designed to keep his organ donor safe and compliant. The man I adored saw me as nothing more than a collection of spare parts. The love I thought we shared was a carefully constructed trap, and I had been the fool who walked right in. The girl who believed in fairy tales died in that sterile hospital hallway. I picked up my phone, my hand steady. "Dad," I said, my voice cold as ice. "I'm ready to consider the alliance with the Powell family."/0/63376/coverorgin.jpg?v=57e8ff43322035459161f5722806d4e6&imageMogr2/format/webp)
A Tale of Love and Deception
I was stabbed by a thug when the big screen on the street happened to be playing an interview with the film emperor, Fu Lingze. The reporter asked who I was to him, and he said, "She is my housekeeper." With just that one word, "housekeeper," he erased the ten years of love we had shared. I collapsed in a pool of blood, watching the big screen as he embraced the daughter of a billionaire, smiling with a look of indulgence. Three years later, he burst into my wedding ceremony, kneeling and begging for my forgiveness. I said, "I'm sorry, big star, but I've lost my memory and don't remember what our relationship was." My fiancé immediately played an old video: "Baby, look, he said with his own mouth that you are his housekeeper."/1/103111/coverorgin.jpg?v=29c155d0ba8ab339bbc6baa8d60c8252&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Pact Of Love Under Oath
Alicia had never imagined that her wedding day would unravel into a storm of secrets, betrayals, and overwhelming passion. Just before her wedding, a devastating truth came to light, drawing the name of Dante Moretti into her life-a man whose power and ruthlessness had made him the most feared figure in Italy. Shaped by his past and driven by control, Dante trusted nothing but his own will, until Alicia shattered his certainty with her quiet tenderness. Bound together by vengeance and guilt, they were forced to face enemies determined to destroy them and confront emotions neither of them could deny. Through tears, danger, and a love that endured amid chaos, Alicia and Dante discovered that true love was not a choice but something that simply took hold. But when life stripped away their peace, it was love-pure and unbreakable-that guided them back to their path. This was a story of redemption, family, second chances, and a love that defied fate./1/108117/coverorgin.jpg?v=413545f5274262a49b07b770c51285b6&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Bargained Hearts: When Mr. Coldhearted Turns Hopeless Romantic
For three years, she was the gentle, obedient wife to a man whose heart never thawed. Their marriage was a lopsided bargain, sealed by her brother's injury. Millie clung to hope that her devotion would win him over, only to discover someone else already held his heart. On their anniversary, she waited alone in the freezing mountains, while he celebrated with another woman. Without complaint, she packed up and signed the divorce papers. Everyone believed Darren never loved her, so divorce was certain. But time passed, and instead, he pleaded, "Sweetheart, can we not get divorced?"/1/103424/coverorgin.jpg?v=f31675876b8693225bdf99e48b826cc2&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Five Years, A Forgotten Name
He remembered my childhood pet' s name, our first meeting, and my obscure tea brand, but for five years, Braylon couldn't remember I was allergic to shrimp. It glistened in my pasta, a cruel reminder of how little of me registered in his mind, especially as he laughed with a familiar blonde across the room. My stomach churned, not from the allergy, but from a deeper sickness. That night, at a sprawling rooftop party, Braylon handed Dallas Huff, a young blonde, a delicate bracelet-a replica of her grandmother's, a story he'd told me a hundred times. "Dallas, this reminded me of you," he said, his voice soft, intimate. She beamed, leaning into him, her eyes sparkling, then flickered to me with a triumphant, venomous gleam. When Dallas purred about a gallery opening, Braylon chuckled, "Eliza will be coming with us. Our anniversary dinner is that night." He turned to me, a forced smile pleading for me to play along. But I was done. "It's over, Braylon," I whispered, "And my name is Eliza." He looked genuinely lost, unable to recall my actual name, while Dallas and his friends mocked his forgetfulness. His eyes, wide and confused, searched my face. "Eliza? What are you talking about? Your name is... it's always been..." He trailed off, genuinely lost. A bitter taste filled my mouth. He remembered every trivial detail of Dallas' s life, but my actual name? It was a blank. Later, he left me stranded on a dark, winding road after I refused to apologize to Dallas. My phone was dead, and I stumbled, breaking my ankle. As I lay there, alone and injured, I sobbed, "Why did I stay? Why did I waste five years on him?" Braylon, meanwhile, drove away, a gnawing unease simmering beneath his anger, only to return to a horrifying scene./0/84808/coverorgin.jpg?v=1b563089b4c7d6f300abf721a79200c1&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Fight For Her Vision
The scent of wet concrete used to be the perfume of my dreams, the promise of my architectural masterpiece taking shape. Until I stood on the muddy ground of my construction site and saw it: a clumsy, awkward box, nothing like the light-filled space I' d designed. My ex-boyfriend, Mark Davis, had offered to handle the plan submissions as a "parting gift." It turns out, his gift was a betrayal. He' d swapped my intricate blueprints for cheap, generic plans bought online. My dream home was being built into a monstrosity, a monument to his fraud. When I confronted him, Mark' s voice dripped with condescension. He' d made "practical tweaks" to make it "more sellable," he claimed. Then he blocked me, leaving me with a sabotaged project, mounting fees, and a crumbling reputation. My attempts to find justice through official channels were met with bureaucratic indifference. They saw a "messy breakup," a "disgruntled ex-girlfriend," not a professional crime. They even suggested I compromise, perhaps "compensate" the man destroying my career. But I wouldn' t compromise. I would fight. My last, desperate hope lay with Arthur Vance, my formidable former mentor, who had given me a sculpture years ago as a mark of his personal favor. I knew it was my only leverage. I had to get to him, no matter the cost. My next move would be a gamble, a desperate attempt to reclaim my truth./0/87624/coverorgin.jpg?v=23046e280a358c1a765606c09e1cfbf4&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Substitute Bride Awoke As A Legendary Heroine
For financial gain, Isla's father married her to Theodore, a comatose heir. Unconscious, he duped her; awake, he claimed she'd groped him and flirted nonstop. When she discovered she was pregnant, his "lost love" appeared, and he slid divorce papers across the bed. Isla slapped his hush money back and left. They crossed paths again, with Isla lauded as a hacker, race champ, composer, and screenwriter-and the elusive doctor Theodore coveted. He begged, "One more chance." She said, "Prove it with your life." He did, but what he didn't know was that she always knew the "lost love" was only a decoy./0/84026/coverorgin.jpg?v=20260106203724&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Billionaire Who Wasn't Mine
The phone felt cold against my ear, a stark contrast to the Texas heat. My fiancée Jennifer' s voice, usually sweet, was sharp and demanding. "Ethan, I need $100,000 for the influencer party in Miami. Wes says it' s our big break. It' s an advance on our wedding fund!" My heart stopped. This was it. The exact moment. In my last life, this call was the beginning of the end. I remembered giving in then, selling my classic Mustang, draining my 401k, even taking out a high-interest loan – all to cover the hole she blew in our company' s marketing budget that could have sent her to prison. I remembered the twenty years of a miserable marriage, her constant contempt, and the daughter I loved more than anything, who looked at me with her mother' s resentful eyes, ultimately revealing she wasn't mine at all. Then the final memory flashed: the rising water, the rescue boat, and her face, a mask of false grief, telling the rescuer, "He' s already gone, the water took him." My own daughter, her voice clear over the storm, whispered, "It' s for the best, Mom. If it wasn' t for him, we would' ve been a real family with Dad Wes years ago." They left me there. They left me to drown. But I'm not that man anymore. This time, as her voice shrieked through the phone, demanding I say something, I took a deep breath. And I said it. "No."/0/86529/coverorgin.jpg?v=20260106211643&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Her Betrayal, My Cancer, Our End
The opening bell rang, deafeningly loud. Confetti rained down on the NASDAQ trading floor as our company, Innovatech, went public. My arm was around my wife, Sarah, smiling for the cameras. Millions of dollars, years of coding in my garage, all of it had paid off. I was on top of the world. Just two hours later, an antiseptic smell filled Dr. Chen' s sterile office. The smile was gone. "It's pancreatic cancer, Ethan," he said softly. "Stage four. It's...aggressive." The words hung heavy. IPO day. The best day of my life. And now this. The irony was a physical blow. I drove home in a daze, the city lights blurring. I needed to tell Sarah. We' d face this together. She was waiting when I walked into our large, empty house. Not smiling. Dressed in a sharp business suit, a leather briefcase on the coffee table. "Sarah," I started, my voice cracking, "I just came from the doctor's office. It's bad news." She held up a hand. "I know." Her voice was cold, completely devoid of emotion. "You know?" "I called Dr. Chen's office. The receptionist said he had an urgent appointment with you. I figured it was serious." She slid a thick stack of papers across the table. "These are divorce papers, Ethan." I stared at the documents, then back at her face. "Divorce? Now? Sarah, I have cancer." A small, ugly smirk played on her lips. "Exactly. My lawyer has already transferred the liquid assets. The IPO provided a lot of liquidity. It's better this way." "Better this way? I'm sick, Sarah! I'm dying!" "Don't be so dramatic," she scoffed, standing up. "Treatment would be a waste of money. Money that is now mine. You should just take whatever is left and enjoy your last few days. Don't waste it on doctors." She walked to the door. Her heels clicked loudly. She didn't look back once. The door closed, a soft, final click. I was alone. The divorce papers sat on the table, a testament to a decade. The confetti felt like a distant, faded memory. When Chloe, my childhood friend, inexplicably appeared at my doorstep, worry etched on her face, everything changed. She dropped her lucrative career for me. As I looked at her, then at the divorce papers, a dangerous plan began to solidify in my mind./1/115157/coverorgin.jpg?v=28cacbebdab42eeace41d9a8922733a8&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Too Late, Mr. CEO: I Am Unstoppable
Seven years ago, I gave up a Supreme Court clerkship to marry the billionaire CEO, Jaret Burns. Today, he dragged me into a Manhattan courtroom by my wrist. He accused me of hiding cocaine in the trunk of my car. He stood protectively near Chelsie, the woman crying fake tears in the gallery, and hissed that I was a jealous disgrace dragging his family name through the mud. Dozens of eyes stabbed into my back as the prosecutor loudly read the felony charges. Jaret took a deliberate step away from my chair, crossing his arms to distance himself from a criminal. He looked at me with blind arrogance, completely trusting the woman who had actually framed me. He had no idea my defense attorney was holding a USB drive with time-stamped security footage of Chelsie planting the drugs. As the chilling realization wrapped around my heart, the ashes of my seven-year sacrifice blew away into nothingness. I had buried my brilliant legal mind to be his unpaid maid and trophy wife, only to be thrown away for a pathetic lie. When the judge saw the video, dismissed my charges, and had the bailiffs drag a screaming Chelsie away, Jaret finally panicked. "Nora, wait, I didn't know!" I didn't even look at his regretful face. I went home, left my three-carat diamond ring on top of the signed divorce papers, and scheduled an interview with the most ruthless litigator in New York./0/82931/coverorgin.jpg?v=c091f349df7cb0a4baceab06788182f9&imageMogr2/format/webp)
When Love Turned Cold
My seven-year-old daughter, Lily, was fighting leukemia. Every penny I earned as a waitress and delivery driver went to her mounting medical bills, while her father, Mark, claimed his hardware store was "struggling" with "no money" for his own child. Lily dreamed of learning the violin, and I carefully saved for a small, used one; but when I went to buy it, the shop owner revealed Mark had already purchased all the beginner violins – for Brenda Hayes' son, Liam. The specific one Lily wanted? It was found snapped in half, "run over," in the alley. Later, Brenda' s social media paraded Liam' s new gaming consoles, pony rides, and lavish parties – all documented under '#BestUncle' and aligning perfectly with the times Mark claimed poverty. Meanwhile, Lily' s cough worsened, her counts dropped, and doctors urged expensive, out-of-state treatment we couldn't afford. The broken violin, Liam showered with gifts, Lily fighting for her life – it wasn't just neglect; it was a burning, cold betrayal. He was actively choosing them over his own sick daughter. Then, just before Lily' s birthday, I delivered a monstrous cake to a lavish party; it was for 'Happy Birthday Liam!' and there was Mark, laughing, wearing a party hat, while my dying daughter held onto his vague promise of 'something special.' I knew then what I had to do./1/106553/coverorgin.jpg?v=8889eeed04bf2059e93df62eb432abff&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Stolen Sapphire: His Fake Girlfriend
I returned to New York after three years in Paris, sick and broken, with nothing but a venomous vow to reclaim my life. I looked like a total disaster in my scuffed boots and ripped jeans, a far cry from the Stanton heiress I once was. On the flight home, a glossy magazine headline hit me like a physical blow: my half-sister Aryana was celebrating a fairytale engagement while wearing my dead mother's sapphire pendant. The necklace was my only legacy, stolen by the interlopers who had usurped my place the moment I vanished. Things spiraled into a nightmare before I even landed. I accidentally spilled milk all over a powerful billionaire, Denis Stephens, and then fainted directly into his arms during turbulence. At the hospital, my ex-boyfriend's new girlfriend mocked my illness, snapping photos of me looking like a "pregnant" mess to ruin my reputation. When I finally fought my way to the family manor to snatch the necklace back, my father tried to hit me, and my ex accused me of becoming a whore in Europe. I couldn't understand how my own father could freeze my bank accounts and treat me like a criminal while my sister played house with my mother's jewels. I was back in the orbit of the Manhattan elite, but I was a pariah with a target on my back and a body that was failing me. Then, the final blow came. I rear-ended a Bentley belonging to Denis Stephens-the same man I'd humiliated on the plane. With six figures in damages and zero dollars in my pocket, I was completely at his mercy. "You're going to be my date tonight," He commanded, pulling me into a high-stakes game of fake romance and cold revenge that I wasn't sure I'd survive./1/111559/coverorgin.jpg?v=2f74254090d56bfc0c4798cb701de10b&imageMogr2/format/webp)
BIllionaire's Vengeful Heiress
Elena Crane wakes up in a hospital bed after barely surviving a resort fire, only to discover the devastating truth. The kidney she donated to her husband Leo three days ago wasn't for him. It was for his mistress, Lydia. Worse, she overhears Leo instructing a doctor to kill her within five days and make it look like surgical complications so he can collect two hundred million dollars in life insurance. Their entire five year marriage was an elaborate scheme to steal her organs and murder her for money. What Leo and Lydia don't know is that Elena is actually Roberta Alfred, the legendary jewelry designer and billionaire heiress who abandoned her empire for love. After enduring multiple murder attempts, including being locked in a morgue and losing her uterus to forced hysterectomy, Elena escapes. She divorces Leo, claims the insurance money herself, and returns home to reclaim her identity and her family's billion dollar empire./1/109682/coverorgin.jpg?v=f9a5860fbeaadba019c69f34a5b84643&imageMogr2/format/webp)
From Prison To My Billionaire's Embrace
On the anniversary of my mother's death, I found my husband in our bed with my best friend. The betrayal shattered me, just as a similar affair had driven my mother to suicide years before. Consumed by a blinding rage, I exposed their secrets to the world and destroyed her career. My vengeance was swift and brutal, but it was I who ended up behind bars for a year and a half. They watched as I was dragged away, their faces a mask of disgust. They built a life on the ruins of mine, while I was left with nothing but the four walls of a prison cell. But in that desolate place, my anger finally burned out, replaced by a quiet resolve to rebuild. Five years later, I walked out a new woman. I had found peace, a new family, and a love I never thought possible. I thought the past was buried, until I ran into him again. He looked at my simple dress with pity, offering me money and a ride home, completely unaware that the man waiting for me there could buy and sell him a thousand times over./1/103581/coverorgin.jpg?v=246d388c78f7f5c521920f65ddc1b1c8&imageMogr2/format/webp)
