Modern Books for Women
Bestsellers Ongoing Completed
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Broken Vows, Unbreakable Spirit Emerges
On my seventh wedding anniversary, my husband, Camden, publicly announced his affair with his much younger personal trainer, Kai. The video went viral before I even woke up. But the real betrayal wasn't the affair. It was the sudden, horrifying realization that two years ago, he forced me to terminate our long-awaited pregnancy because it was "bad timing" for his new relationship with Kai. He and Kai humiliated me in my own home, shattering the glass sculpture I'd spent months creating for our anniversary. "It's just glass," Kai sneered. "Easily replaceable." Camden then tossed the broken pieces into the trash, along with the last of my love for him. Years of swallowing his betrayals, of enduring his cruelty, finally came to an end. The woman who once crumbled at his feet was gone, replaced by a cold, profound emptiness. I watched him stand there, smug and triumphant with his new lover, completely oblivious to the storm he had unleashed. He thought he had broken me, but he had only forged me into something new, something unbreakable. "Fine," I said, my voice a calm whisper that cut through his arrogance. "Divorce me." This wasn't just the end of a marriage. It was the beginning of his ruin./1/124670/coverorgin.jpg?v=5a04ac30f7170d2d92598f1c6e1aed0d&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Dumped By A Hockey Star, Crowned By A Secret Prince
Cathryn's fiancé promised to marry her if he became hockey world champion, but three times, he abandoned the competition for another woman. Done with his betrayal, she left him, only for a wager to force her into marrying the first man she encountered-a homeless stranger beside a trash bin. Everyone expected Cathryn to regret it. Instead, she became a global sensation and reclaimed her place among the elite, pampered by her three powerful brothers. Then her "homeless" husband arrived with royal guards and revealed the truth. "I've been your bodyguard husband for three years. Now, it's your turn to be my queen."/0/83465/coverorgin.jpg?v=64f8525724be411b8ab4a21ccd346e4d&imageMogr2/format/webp)
His Unwanted Wife, Her Reckless Life
My life as a park ranger was dedicated to protecting the Fakahatchee Strand and its crown jewel, the priceless Ghost Orchid, a quiet passion my wife, Chloe, never seemed to grasp. Then, my day off was shattered by a call: the Super Ghost had been cruelly stolen. What I saw on the security footage twisted my stomach: it was Chloe, my wife, laughing and posing for selfies with her crypto-bro lover, Kyle, as they brutally sawed off the very orchid I swore to protect, all while she was supposedly on a "girls' trip" I had paid for. When I confronted her at the ranger station, she played the frantic victim, but her parents only launched into a furious tirade, blaming me for everything. The hospital confirmed my deepest fears when the ER doctor calmly announced Chloe's injury was from "strenuous physical activity" with Kyle, publicly shaming my wife and her accusatory parents. Yet, even from her hospital bed, Chloe and Kyle shamelessly posed for "recovery" selfies, attempting to monetize their disgrace, even trying to use a fake pregnancy to ensnare me. How could the woman I had once loved be so utterly devoid of empathy and so pathologically manipulative, trying to offload her lover's child onto me after everything? The audacity was a deep, sickening insult to every shred of decency I possessed. I was finally done being her victim. In a final, explosive confrontation, her unchecked rage boiled over, causing her to lash out and accidentally scald an innocent bystander-who devastatingly turned out to be her own brother's fiancée. That shocking incident was my undeniable cue to walk away, pursue the divorce, leave the toxic swamp of our past behind, and reclaim my peace, finally finding a life truly worth living far from her chaos./1/103581/coverorgin.jpg?v=246d388c78f7f5c521920f65ddc1b1c8&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Orchestrated Accidents: A Heiress's Revenge
They told me one of them would be my husband. Seven men, groomed by my father to be part of our music empire. I only ever wanted one: Devon Valenzuela, the band's brilliant, brooding lead singer. But the night I caught him kissing his "sister," Delilah, I learned the devastating truth. The seven of them weren't rivals for my hand; they were a pack, united in a secret pact to protect her. I was just a variable in their game. They orchestrated "accidents" to keep me dependent-a near-miss in the studio, a fall from my horse that left me with a broken leg. Devon played the part of the doting fiancé perfectly, nursing me back to health. Then I overheard him confessing to another band member. "It was the only way to get her attention," he said. "The bone breaking… that was an accident. Not part of the plan." At my 21st birthday party, he humiliated me by broadcasting a video of my most private confessions of love for him to all our guests. But he didn't know I had a video of my own-one that would expose his precious Delilah and tear their entire world apart./1/130186/coverorgin.jpg?v=4089bfe7cab54e511bc1083c70649181&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Penniless Divorce: The Secret Hacker Queen
I was the despised wife of NHL superstar Chace Mayo, a woman everyone assumed married him for his wealth. Our two-year marriage reached its breaking point when his fingers clamped around my throat like a vise, nearly choking me to death in his silent study. "You're a disgrace, Colette," he hissed, each word a shard of ice. "A pathetic, climbing Puck Bunny." After the housekeeper interrupted his murderous rage, he didn't show a shred of remorse. He ordered me locked in a cramped attic, bellowing at his assistant to draft divorce papers immediately, demanding I be thrown out without a single penny. As I tried to leave, his arrogant stepsister blocked my exit in front of all the maids. She viciously accused me of stealing their family valuables and forced open my suitcase, only to find a pile of faded, cheap clothes. The original Colette Hammond died in that study, her spirit completely crushed by a cruel man she loved. She couldn't understand why her endless submission only earned her a brutal death sentence. But when I opened my eyes in the mirror, the fear was gone. I am Aine Dalton, a woman who died from a ruthless betrayal in another life, now awakened in this battered body. I coldly signed his papers without reading the terms, leaving that beautiful cage behind. From now on, this body is mine, and the game has just begun./1/114937/coverorgin.jpg?v=5207417fbe6f4a5fd573defa888193a7&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Thirty Years, A Billionaire's Lie
For thirty years, I loved Javen Sullivan. Our engagement was the perfect merger of two corporate empires, and I thought my lifelong dream of being with him had finally come true. But at our party, I overheard him talking to his best man. Our entire relationship was a lie, a "business deal" to make his parents happy and protect his real girlfriend, Keely. He said my love was just a childish crush he was indulging. That I was too familiar, too stable, and he could never fall in love with me. The worst part was the car crash three years ago. The one that caused my miscarriage and left me barren. He had always called it a tragic accident. But a video played during a party game revealed the truth. He crashed because he swerved to save her when she ran into the road to confront him. He sacrificed our baby to protect his affair. As the room fell silent, I picked up the bottle for the next round. "My turn," I said, my voice like ice. The game had just begun./1/103257/coverorgin.jpg?v=9199f92790825f2c2e865f1a5d38ef83&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Billionaire Who Called Me Boring
He was the billionaire who called me "boring" and paid me to disappear. Three years later, Gage Schwartz came back begging, promising me the world he'd denied me for seven years. I took him back, and soon, I was pregnant with his twins. Then I heard the voicemail of him and his ex-wife, Brylee, laughing about how I was just a "comfortable placeholder." The shock caused me to miscarry. When I tried to leave, he launched a smear campaign, painting me as insane to the world. Then he locked me in our penthouse. He thought he could break me. So I faked a complete mental breakdown, escaped into a blizzard, and vanished. I built a new life, found real love, and became the artist I was always meant to be. But now, he's standing in my studio. And he wants me back./0/84439/coverorgin.jpg?v=a9b8b2a4fc9f0fb9cb7641ee19b8f30e&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Angel Who Burned: A Small Town's Inferno
Sarah Miller was the epitome of small-town success: valedictorian, destined for a full scholarship at State University, a beacon of hope. Everyone in our tight-knit community called her an angel, a ray of sunshine, always with a bright smile. Just hours after delivering a graduation speech full of dreams, she was supposed to be celebrating with friends and family. But as the community hall burned, its roof collapsing in a fiery roar, Sarah stood across the street, motionless, her face illuminated by the inferno. The smell of burning wood, and something else, something sickening, filled the air, as sparks flew like angry fireflies. When Officer Kowski grabbed her arm, she showed no fear, only an unsettling calm, soot smeared on her hands. Then, she whispered the chilling words: "They all deserved to die." Her parents, reeling from disbelief, watched their daughter admit to mass murder, their tears mingling with raw, ragged pain. The town, still mourning their "heroes"-Pastor David, Mr. Henderson-couldn't reconcile the angelic Sarah with the monster she confessed to being. Her subsequent suicide attempt in her cell only deepened the mystery, pills traced back to Henderson's private stash. The discovery of burned journal fragments suggested hidden truths, a desperate, unspoken anguish. What unspeakable evil could turn a scholarship-bound valedictorian into a mass murderer? How could the very men lauded as benefactors, who "loved her like their own daughter," inspire such cold, vengeful fire? The town saw kindness and support, but Sarah' s hollow whisper of "Care?" hinted at an unimaginable betrayal. What dark secret did this 'angel' carry, hidden beneath years of forced smiles and perfect grades? Then, Sarah finally shattered the silence, not with tears, but with a guttural scream: "They deserved it! They all deserved it!" And the terrifying, heartbreaking story, a torrent of buried pain, began to pour out, revealing the true horrors lurking beneath their idyllic small town./0/40314/coverorgin.jpg?v=899b48eeb3ea8fd920608ef5f90b79f3&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The billionaire's daughter is back for Revenge
Bianca Williams is the only heir of a billionaire, whose life turns hellish after her father perishes in a fatal accident. David, her filthy stepfather, craves to embezzle her wealth and acquire Bianca as his toy. He takes advantage of her one night and forcefully takes what she didn’t intend to give. After finding out his secrets are about to be revealed, David hires an assassin to silence Bianca but did not anticipate the assassin to have a hidden agenda of his own. In the process of enacting their vengeance, Bianca and her assassin become closer…something neither of them thought would happen. There’s no love in the world of assassins, and no one can be trusted when you’re the only heir to a billionaire dynasty. What happens when they are on the edge of eliminating each other in the name of vengeance?/1/116884/coverorgin.jpg?v=35ea6ef469caf6397468b47beff507a9&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Reborn Heiress: Escaping The Cheating Fiancé
In her past life, Christabel was locked in an abandoned medical facility, her fingers crushed and her vision blurred with her own blood. Her stepsister, Hilary, stood over her in a pristine white Chanel suit, smiling as she delivered the final blow. "Derrick's plane went down. No survivors." Hilary whispered the words with fake pity, throwing a stack of newspapers directly at Christabel's face. The bold headlines screamed about the Sanders family's absolute bankruptcy and liquidation. Christabel's parents and brother had already died trying to protect her. Now, Hilary was sealing her inside this rusted, pitch-black room to rot away completely. Christabel couldn't even move her dead limbs to fight back. She could only wait for her heartbeat to stop, drowned in absolute, crushing helplessness. She hated herself for being so blind, for letting Hilary and her fiancé Jaylon manipulate her, destroy her family, and steal everything she ever loved. In her final agonizing second, a vicious curse echoed in her mind. She swore that if she had another chance, she would drag them all to hell. Then, a violent sensation of falling ripped through her, and her eyes snapped open. Blinding light from a crystal chandelier stabbed her eyes, and an unnatural, burning heat rushed through her veins. She had been reborn. She was back at eighteen, in the exact hotel room where Hilary and Jaylon had plotted to drug her and ruin her reputation forever. This time, the show was hers to direct./0/99364/coverorgin.jpg?v=5c8ee0c1dd3fadd99ac53741bdc00829&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Den's Secret: A Bride's Fury
Seven days before my wedding, an anonymous email led me to a members-only site called "The Den." The video was raw and explicit. The man in the wolf mask, with his familiar jawline and confident movements, was my fiancé, Damon. But the true gut punch was recognizing the woman with him: my best friend and maid of honor, Katina. Their betrayal escalated into a nightmare-a staged car accident that cost me our unborn child. I soon discovered Damon never loved me; he'd proposed only for my family's connections to fund his startup. My entire world wasn't just a lie; it was a cold, calculated scheme that had left me broken and childless. They thought they had taken everything from me. They were wrong. They had just given me a reason to burn their world to the ground./1/103582/coverorgin.jpg?v=fb5b6af4f48238271e0ff9827afb0637&imageMogr2/format/webp)
From Jilted Bride To Ruthless CEO
I was Jocelyn Cruz, heiress to a billion-dollar empire, and I was supposed to marry my childhood sweetheart, Jake. My father had groomed him to be my king, and our life was a storybook romance. But just before my 25th birthday gala, I saw him kissing Djuna-the fragile orphan my father took in, the woman I treated like a sister. Their betrayal ran deeper than I could imagine. They drugged me to cause a riding accident, then gaslit me to make me think I was losing my mind. At a public auction, Jake froze my accounts and bought a family heirloom I cherished, only to gift it to her in front of everyone, leaving me broken and humiliated. He wanted to shatter me, to turn me into a mindless puppet he could control. So when he played a secret video of me crying for him at my own birthday party, I didn't break. Instead, I smiled. Because I had my own recordings, and I was about to show everyone the vipers he and his "true love" really were./0/85413/coverorgin.jpg?v=f505504def9c06331a2e6add6e333a7f&imageMogr2/format/webp)
My Betrayed Heart, My Stolen Life
The first thing I heard wasn't a doctor's voice but a detached system humming in my head: "Welcome back, Liam Miller." I woke from a six-month coma, only to find my home infested. My wife Sarah, pale and distant, offered no embrace, just a flat, "You're back." My children, Emily and Josh, stared at me like a stranger, then scurried behind another man. He was in my clothes, in my spot at my table, with his arm around my wife-Mark Harrison, a disturbing mirror image of me, radiating triumph. My son, Josh, clutched Mark's leg and mumbled, "You' re not our daddy. Mark is our daddy." Even my in-laws, David and Carol, defended this usurper, accusing me of being "confused" and "causing trouble." I, Liam Miller, successful architect, loving husband and father, was a ghost in my own life, stripped of everything. Later, in my own living room, Sarah's phone flashed with a text from "M ❤️": "Can't wait for tonight. The kids will be asleep soon. I'll make sure he's out of the way." The betrayal was no longer a suspicion; it was a cold, hard truth. I watched, hidden, as Sarah and Mark shared an intimate kiss in my bed, heard my children call him "Daddy Mark." Then, Mark staged a scene, deliberately injuring himself and framing me for the attack. "You animal!" David roared, striking me as Emily shrieked, "I hate you! We don't want you here!" Condemned by my own family, I knew there was no going back. Just as they threw me out, I heard the roar of a familiar engine. It was Mark's car, speeding toward me. The impact. A sledgehammer of force. I lay broken, bleeding. My mother-in-law, Carol, hung up on my plea for help, accusing me of a "stunt." Then, a bowl of soup, a "gift" from Carol, reeked faintly of peanuts-the allergen that could kill me. They weren't just trying to erase me; they were actively trying to murder me. Lying in my hospital bed, I finally spoke to the voice in my head. "System," I thought, "I'm ready. I accept. Get me out of here. Whatever it takes."/0/83142/coverorgin.jpg?v=aa95f8fe389480f8c0f94008700eef7f&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Stolen Hope: The Price of a Mother's Dream
My life as a gig-economy delivery driver was tough, but I always kept my head down. On Valentine' s Day, a late condom delivery for Room 12 at a sleazy motel spiraled into instant blackmail. Kevin and Tiffany, the couple, scammed me out of my day' s pay and hit me with a one-star review that cratered my job rating. Just as I thought it couldn't get worse, they escalated. They claimed Tiffany was pregnant because I was supposedly late, demanding $20,000. When I refused, they fabricated an assault, accused me of causing a miscarriage, and launched a vicious online smear campaign. They doxxed me, ruined my reputation, and got me fired; I was days from homelessness. But the ultimate blow came from the person who mattered most. My foster mother, Sarah, the kindest soul I knew, used her life savings-money she' d been meticulously saving for decades to find her long-lost son-to pay them off, just to make them stop hounding me. I couldn't believe it. Her entire hope, her deepest dream, sacrificed for me because of their elaborate lies. How could anyone be so utterly cruel, so shamelessly manipulative? And watching Tiffany flaunt new "engagement" bling, clearly funded by Sarah's stolen hope, made my stomach churn. No more. They took my job, my home, and then her dream. It wasn't about surviving anymore. It was about making them pay. Every last cent. And for everything else. I'm coming for them./0/80871/coverorgin.jpg?v=b64a675cb5720f00231fa9c0840be423&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Man They Underpaid
Alex Miller had dedicated eight years to Sterling Creative Solutions. Eight years of pouring his talent into the agency, faithfully earning a modest three thousand dollars a month. He was the bedrock, making campaigns work, building client trust. All he wanted was a fair raise. His boss, Vicky, always dismissed his requests, claiming the market was "terrible." Then, a job ad blindsided him: Sterling Creative was hiring a "Creative Intern" for $30,000 a month – ten times his salary. A week later, Vicky’s smirking nephew, Bryce, arrived to claim that role… and Alex’s very own desk. Alex found himself exiled to a hot, noisy corner by the server room, ordered to "train his replacement." The humiliation was constant. Bryce was incompetent, botching client calls, yet Vicky doted on him, even promoting him to "Lead Strategist" after just two weeks. When Bryce infuriated their biggest client, Vicky snapped at Alex: "This is *your* responsibility." For his eight years of loyal service, Alex received a single, insulting hundred-dollar bill. The knot in his stomach tightened into a vise. Eight years of dedication, now reduced to training an overpaid, talentless nepo-baby. Every day was a fresh assault on his dignity. But it was Vicky’s final, bizarre, and venomous accusation – implying he'd "mooned over her" – that snapped something inside him. The misplaced loyalty, the years of swallowing pride, shattered. "I quit," he declared, the words quiet but firm. He didn't look back. But how does a man rebuild his professional life when his foundation has been so cruelly undermined, and his reputation potentially tainted?/1/103258/coverorgin.jpg?v=7c7c68f75774e4bbe892e393254b2584&imageMogr2/format/webp)
My Ex-Fiancé Stole My Dreams
For ten years, I was the indispensable right hand and fiancée to star architect Declan Sharp. I poured my life into his career, sacrificing my own ambitions for us. Our wedding was just weeks away. But my world shattered when I saw him with the new intern, Kisha. He was showing her my design, the one he called "competent," and proudly saying, "This is Kisha's idea." It got worse. He stole my groundbreaking research paper for her, then publicly dismissed me as a mere "drafting assistant." My own family attacked me, furious I had lost their meal ticket. I was just a tool. A convenient machine he used to build his empire. He never loved me; he loved what I did for him. So when he tried to kiss me to shut me up, I slapped him. I deleted every file, every blueprint, every trace of my work from his life. Then I blocked his number and bought a one-way ticket to Detroit. This time, I was building a life for myself./0/56213/coverorgin.jpg?v=99cb4ae600aee533d529b590f40c6385&imageMogr2/format/webp)
A Return To Love's Madness
When they met again, Jason cast aside his paranoia and pride, warmly embracing Chelsey. "Please, come back to me?" For three years, she had been his secretary by day and his companion by night. Chelsey had always complied with his requests, like an obedient pet. However, when Jason declared his plans to marry another, she chose to stop loving him and to let go. But life took unexpected turns. His unyielding pursuit, her pregnancy, and her mother's greed gradually pushed her to the brink. Eventually, she endured tremendous suffering. Five years later, when she returned, she was no longer the woman she once was. Yet he had spiraled into five years of chaos./1/102285/coverorgin.jpg?v=5d7389d53d151757bebe6bca67338654&imageMogr2/format/webp)
From Ruin: The Photographer's Comeback
I was the daughter of a wealthy tycoon, deeply in love with my fiancé, Conrad. But on our wedding day, he arrested my father. My ten-year relationship was a lie. He was an FBI agent, and my best friend, Bonny, was his accomplice. The betrayal shattered me. I was forced into electroshock therapy, which erased my talent for architectural design-the one thing that was truly mine. My life fell apart. After a failed suicide attempt, I was saved by a kind stranger and my father's last words. I rebuilt my life from the ashes, becoming a successful photographer. Years later, Conrad reappeared, full of fake regret, begging for a second chance. I looked at the man who had destroyed me and compared him to a cat that had once bitten me. "I forgave you," I told him, "but I will never trust you again." My friend Corey, acting as my fake husband, defended my honor by punching Conrad in the face. Eventually, Conrad's career imploded due to a scandal involving Bonny. He was ruined. As for me? I was in Paris, my photography career soaring, when I picked up a sketchbook. Miraculously, the lines flowed. My gift was returning. I was finally in control of my own story./1/115263/coverorgin.jpg?v=27b8fa04f7613efb83f46ece5b9e75ad&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Trading My Ex For His Billionaire Uncle
I spent three years working as my fiancé Cam's shadow analyst, writing his reports and securing his corporate bonuses. But at a company banquet, I opened a lounge door and found him pinning my stepsister Kiley against a sofa. "I'll cancel the engagement," Cam murmured against her neck. "She's just a boring machine." Instead of crying, I dug into his accounts and found he had embezzled five million dollars to buy Kiley a luxury penthouse. When I presented the irrefutable photos and bank statements to my adoptive family, my mother slapped me across the face. She accused me of fabricating the evidence out of jealousy, fiercely protecting her biological daughter while throwing me out into the cold. Cam even tracked me down on the street, raising his fist to beat me just for making his mistress cry. Three years of my devotion were treated like absolute garbage, discarded for a fragile hypocrite. They all thought I was an orphaned nobody who would swallow the humiliation and walk away empty-handed. They didn't know that right after catching them, I had crashed into the chest of the most dangerous man in the room. Hayes Cooper, the King of Wall Street, and Cam's ruthless uncle. Sitting in the back of an Uber, I emailed Hayes a hidden file containing all of Cam's federal crimes. I didn't just want the penthouse back. I wanted my ex in prison, and his Director's chair for myself./0/84116/coverorgin.jpg?v=a92bccd1399bc5be06b58aba3cab3352&imageMogr2/format/webp)
