Modern Books for Women
Bestsellers Ongoing Completed
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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."/0/85763/coverorgin.jpg?v=20260106210644&imageMogr2/format/webp)
When Love Dies: A Family's Tragic End
The first thing I felt was the splintering pain in my back, a sharp, ugly ache. My art school interview, my one shot, was missed because a ladder slipped. Instead of concern, my adoptive parents, the Davises, stood over me and my ruined canvases, their faces masks of fury. "Stealing Emily's scholarship spot wasn't enough," my mother shrieked, "now you've sabotaged her art career? We never should have adopted you!" My father grabbed me, hauling me up despite my cry of pain, and dragged me to the attic, slamming the door shut with a deafening metallic click. The familiar dread of claustrophobia seized me. "Please," I gasped, pounding a weak fist against the door, "Please, don't. I can't… I can't breathe." But their footsteps faded, her words echoing: "She's just being dramatic." They left me there, trapped and forgotten, my pleas turning into choked sobs no one would hear. Days later, they discussed plans for Emily during their European vacation, dismissing the growing, sweet stench in the house as my mess. They never thought of me again, not for seven days, not until it was too late./1/102310/coverorgin.jpg?v=40ac8e59f4dbf5401b8ed4ff930f7b38&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Ten Years Of Lies, One Heartbreak
On my wedding day, my fiancé of ten years left me at the altar for another woman. He sent a simple text: "Haylee needs me." Hours later, that same woman ran me over with her car, causing me to lose our baby. But when I woke up in the hospital, my fiancé stood over me with a chilling demand. "Drop the charges against Haylee," he said, his voice cold. "She's too sensitive for prison. You're strong, Kira. You can handle this." To ensure my compliance, he threatened to release a humiliating video of my mother, who was suffering from dementia. I gave in, only to learn that Haylee had already tormented my mother with cruel whispers, driving her to suicide. The betrayal was absolute. He had not only destroyed my body and our child but had also orchestrated my mother's death to protect his new love. He thought he had broken me, leaving me with nothing. But as I lay shattered in that hospital bed, an email arrived from his biggest competitor. They offered me a new identity, a new life, and the power to make him pay for everything. They wanted me to fake my own death./1/100039/coverorgin.jpg?v=3986c740d8e4e3eea8964220c7245b10&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Magnate Who Claimed My Heart
To help my fiancé's tech startup, I poured my entire inheritance into his dream and even underwent ninety-nine humiliating hymen reconstruction surgeries to satisfy his bizarre fetish. But just one procedure away from our wedding, I overheard the truth. He called me his "cash cow" and the surgeries were just "pure theater" to lure in investors with a virgin fetish. He never loved me. He never even touched me. Instead, he drugged me with "protein shakes" to keep me compliant and paraded me in front of old perverts. His plan was to publicly humiliate me at the altar, expose my most private medical secrets, and then marry his childhood sweetheart, Kimberli. He was going to destroy me, dance on the ashes of my dignity, and leave me with nothing. But if he wanted a show, he was going to get one. Just not the one he planned. I picked up my phone and texted the one man I had blacklisted, the ruthless East Coast magnate Constantine Russell: "Crash my wedding. I need you."/0/81870/coverorgin.jpg?v=3d5137d54bfe62085d90e59bfb41abfb&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Heiress Who Broke My World
My family and I sacrificed everything, our entire lives and savings, for my fiancée Isabelle, who lay in a coma for a year after a seemingly minor car accident. We moved mountains, sold our home, and poured every penny into her recovery, believing in a love that demanded ultimate devotion. But the day she "woke up"-healthy, laughing, and throwing cash at my feet after her luxury SUV clipped my leg-she revealed it was all a cruel "loyalty test." Her "test" had already cost me everything: my mother, who skipped vital heart medication to save for Isabelle and died; my father, overworked to death at an unsafe Vance Corporation construction site; and my little sister, trafficked and murdered for trying to earn money for Isabelle' s fictional medical bills. While I stood numb, having just identified my sister's body hours before, she, surrounded by her aristocratic circle, merely laughed, celebrating her "recovery" and my "loyalty" as her casual cruelty sliced through what little I had left. The half-million dollars she and her manipulative ex-husband then offered me as "compensation" felt like blood money for my lost family. I took my mother, father, and sister with me-their ashes in a small suitcase-left everything else behind, and walked away from her gilded cage forever, seeking a quiet peace far from the monsters who devoured my world./1/101986/coverorgin.jpg?v=b96f241ebd3e5b2049e4ba2603e847fe&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Shattered Symphony: The Genius Lady Shines Again
Jacob's voice was terrifyingly calm at the scene of the crash. He wasn't looking at me. He was looking at the gurney being rushed past us. He was holding her hand. Not mine. My right hand was a mangled, swelling mess of flesh, throbbing with blinding agony. Blood soaked my white blouse, turning it a heavy crimson. I tried to show him, whispering that I thought my bones were crushed. He didn't even blink. He just kept pace with the doctors swarming around Cassandra. "She has a head injury, Alexia," he said, his voice tight with a panic he never felt for me. "We have to prioritize. You know how fragile she is. We need you to be strong right now." Because of his "priority," I missed the critical window for surgery. My fingers, once capable of spanning octaves and dancing through concertos, healed into stiff, alien claws. The grand piano in our living room became a coffin for my dreams. For three months, I lived as a ghost in my own home. I watched Jacob comfort Cassandra through her minor headaches while ignoring my ruined nerves. I watched him let her take credit for my music, steal my son's affection, and finally, crush my late mother's locket under her heel with a smile. When I confronted him, he only checked to see if she had twisted her ankle. That was the moment the silence broke. I realized I wasn't his partner; I was just collateral damage. So, when the Vienna Conservatory called offering a position, I didn't ask for his permission. On the night of their engagement party, while fireworks exploded for them outside, I packed a single suitcase. I left the signed divorce papers next to his medical negligence report on the counter, unlocked the door, and walked into the night. I was done waiting for him to choose me./0/86737/coverorgin.jpg?v=36e996935f8d76bf1522cde66e7d052a&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Betrayed By Love, Reclaimed My Life
I drove to my father's mansion, divorce papers on the passenger seat, ready to tell him about my broken marriage. But voices from his study stopped me cold. My stepmother' s pleased tone and my father' s soft replies revealed a horrifying plot: they had orchestrated my forced marriage to David, drugging him and luring me there, all to seize my mother' s company, Miller Corp. My own father had sold me for a company. The man who orchestrated my five years of misery also murdered my mother. My world shattered. Grief turned to rage. I confronted David, only to find him with my stepsister, Samantha. He ripped up my divorce papers and choked me, accusing me of using him. My own husband, the one person I thought I could rely on, stood by as my father beat me. He let me risk my life to save his mistress. He let me lose our baby. After all that, they offered me a divorce, believing they had won. Why did they hate me so much? Why was I, his wife, continually punished while his mistress was doted on? What dark secret bound them all to this twisted game, and what was truly at stake? But they underestimated me. I refused to be a victim. I would reclaim my mother' s legacy, expose their crimes, and make them pay for every tear, every betrayal, and every loss./1/113991/coverorgin.jpg?v=4992d43ad99bc3068b2c5b58bdf12c8e&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Mad Heiress's Dangerous Mercenary Lover
I spent ten years locked in an asylum, heavily sedated, until my wealthy family dragged me back to their Hamptons estate. I pretended to be a brain-damaged lunatic to survive. They didn't bring me back out of love. The Holden family was bleeding money, and they desperately needed me dead to inherit my massive trust fund shares. My step-cousin Cristian was the mastermind behind the purge. First, he tried to quietly murder our billionaire grandfather with a mutated toxic orchid. Then, he ordered a guard to drop a deadly Gaboon viper into my bedroom in the dead of night. My father was a spineless coward, my mother was drugged into a stupor by the family doctor, and my brother was a crippled addict. They all stood by as I was thrown into the freezing mud, treated like garbage. "She is a disgrace to this family! Get her back to the asylum immediately!" My uncle roared, completely unaware that my brain was forged in a decade of clandestine warfare. But the strangest part wasn't my hidden combat skills. It was that my blood relatives could suddenly hear my cold, tactical inner thoughts. Through my silent, telepathic broadcasts, I exposed Cristian's poison to my grandfather, woke my mother from her chemical haze, and turned my paralyzed brother into a ruthless, blood-soaked protector. Still playing the shivering, crazy girl, I smiled in the dark. The real war had just begun./1/102311/coverorgin.jpg?v=064f893b9a8b11d49eef517864d2859c&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Emma Russell: The Woman Reborn
My anniversary dinner ended not with a kiss, but with my husband Cole cheating on me with my cousin, Britney. He kicked me out of our home, the one my father helped us buy, and banished me to the guest house. But when I arrived, Britney was already there, wearing my favorite silk robe, smirking as she told me I'd be staying in the damp basement apartment instead. Down in the cold, musty cellar, I found what my father left me: proof that Cole hadn't just married me. He had orchestrated the hostile takeover that destroyed my father's company, drove him to his death, and then married me to steal everything that was left, including my life's work, a project called "Aura." He had me committed to a psychiatric facility, telling everyone I was unstable. He thought he had buried me, but my childhood friend Eric helped me fake my death in a staged car crash. Now, years later, I've returned. Under a new name, Iris, I've created a new masterpiece that has the tech world buzzing, and it's about to bring Cole's empire to its knees. He thinks Emma Russell is dead. He has no idea she's about to destroy him./1/115289/coverorgin.jpg?v=b0d4bf04bc3c8a0a21c7bcfacd6c3237&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Divorced Wife And Her Billionaire
As Aurora lay dying of organ failure in the freezing ICU, she used her last ounce of strength to call her husband on their son's fifth birthday. Instead of his voice, she heard the pop of champagne and the sweet laugh of his mistress, Jessica. Conrad snatched the phone, impatiently ordering Aurora not to "ruin the mood" with her irrelevant calls. But what truly pushed her into cardiac arrest was her five-year-old son's excited voice ringing through the speakerphone. "I wish for Auntie Jessica to be my new mommy!" "As long as you like it, Daddy will give you anything," Conrad promised without a second of hesitation. Aurora gagged on her own blood and flatlined, the heart monitor erupting into a piercing red alarm. She had swallowed her pride and wasted five years playing the perfect, submissive housewife, only to be thrown away like garbage by the two people she loved most. She couldn't understand why her absolute devotion ended with her dying completely alone on a sterile mattress. But she didn't die. Snatched from the jaws of death by a mysterious billionaire from her past, she woke up in a luxury suite, fully healed. Looking at her pale, cold reflection in the window, the pathetic old Aurora died. She packed her battered suitcase, signed a brutal postnuptial agreement waiving every single cent of her husband's wealth, and dropped the divorce papers on the table. This time, she was leaving for good./1/100040/coverorgin.jpg?v=b0203c4cf7801f7f57115606d8bd54ec&imageMogr2/format/webp)
My Empire, My Son, My New Love
While I was fighting for my life in the delivery room, my husband was on the front page of every tabloid, caught in a scandalous affair. He never came to see me or our newborn son. Instead, he whisked his actress mistress away to a luxury resort in the Swiss Alps, dismissing his betrayal as a mere "business arrangement." When his mistress brazenly appeared in my home, she taunted me, claiming my husband wished I had died in childbirth. Then, she revealed a paternity test claiming my son wasn't his. My husband believed her. He believed the lies of the woman who secretly snuck into our nursery to pinch and bruise our helpless, sleeping baby. He took her side, shielded her from me, and even tried to take my son away to raise with her. I had lost my parents and my brother, and now I was losing everything else. I was an orphan, a betrayed wife, and they were trying to take the only thing I had left: my child. But they underestimated me. They thought Kane Powell was the most powerful person I knew. They were wrong./0/94200/coverorgin.jpg?v=20260130151853&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Seven Years of Lies, My Vengeful Return
For seven years, I worked as a crime scene cleaner, scrubbing away death to save my son' s life. I finally earned the $250,000 for the experimental treatment that would cure his rare genetic disorder. But when I arrived at the hospital, I overheard my boyfriend, Brad, talking. It wasn't about a cure. It was a "social experiment," a seven-year test to prove I wasn't a gold digger. My son was never sick. My best friend was in on it, laughing. Then I heard my son' s voice. "I don't want smelly Mommy to come back. I want Aunt Jaime. She smells like cookies." They humiliated me at his school, calling me a mentally unstable cleaning lady. My son pointed at me and told everyone he didn't know me, while the man I loved dragged me away, accusing me of being a disgrace. My love wasn't love; it was data. My sacrifice wasn't a sacrifice; it was a performance. They had turned my own child against me for their sick game. They thought they were testing a poor, simple cleaner. They didn't know he was Bradford Yates, heir to a billion-dollar dynasty. And they had no idea I was Alyssa Dyer of the Dalton family. I picked up the phone and called my brother. "I'm coming home."/1/113667/coverorgin.jpg?v=878e71abd33a3a5e5c607b2483d3ec7a&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Abandoned Wife's Glamorous Return As A Global Star
For five years, Elyse loved Trevor with everything she had, yet it meant nothing when his former lover returned-pregnant. Reduced to the city's joke, Elyse chose dignity and handed him divorce papers, walking away with nothing. But when both women fell into the water, he didn't hesitate-he saved the other. "I'm sorry... she's pregnant," he said, shattering what remained of her love. She disappeared without a trace. Three years later, she returned as a world-renowned actress, radiant and untouchable. When Trevor knelt before her, begging, "Don't leave me..." She only watched, her heart long turned cold. He pleaded, "Please give me another chance, okay?"/1/130863/coverorgin.jpg?v=81390dc15d5d691367c0d9d53af6b5d8&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Sold To The Enemy: The Billionaire's Acquisition
Chloe woke up paralyzed by drugs in a hotel suite right after her own engagement party. Through the door, she heard her fiancé, Chase, and her best friend, Jenna, plotting her ruin. Jenna had drugged her and was bringing up two men to completely destroy her reputation. "Once the scandal breaks, the family will break the engagement to save face. Then, my proposal to Kayla will be perfectly logical," Chase laughed coldly. To them, Chloe, the adopted daughter, was just an obstacle to be cleared. Jenna wanted a corporate job as payment for ruining her. If their plan succeeded, her cold adoptive mother would discard Chloe without a second thought. She would be publicly humiliated and left with nothing. The betrayal burned through her veins. She had spent years trying to be the perfect daughter and fiancée, only to be sold like cheap merchandise just to make room for the newly found "real" princess. She refused to be their sacrificial lamb. Using the last of her strength, Chloe shattered a water glass, escaped the hotel, and ran blindly into the freezing New York rain. With nowhere else to turn, she stood directly in the path of a speeding black Maybach. "Save me for one night, and in exchange... I'll give you me." She looked into the icy eyes of Julian Beaumont, the ruthless billionaire and sworn enemy of her family, ready to trade herself to the devil to burn their perfect world to the ground./1/103285/coverorgin.jpg?v=ac555a08f9f63fecc5709399c9a367da&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Damaged Goods, A Priceless Return
After a fire stole my family and my voice, my boyfriend Jermain promised to be my shield. I was the silent composer behind our band's success, fighting to speak again-for him. Then I overheard him call me "damaged goods, a millstone around my neck." His betrayal escalated. He let his new flame publicly humiliate me, then abandoned me-injured and deafened-in a storm, calling me a "liability." The boy who promised to be my voice was gone. In his place was a stranger who saw me only as a burden he was tired of carrying. So I vanished. Three years later, with my voice and hearing restored, I returned not as a victim, but as a celebrated artist. He's back, begging for a second chance, but he's about to learn that the "damaged goods" he threw away are now priceless./1/126321/coverorgin.jpg?v=eff3e0ff5c41eec43913e896d8b2912f&imageMogr2/format/webp)
You Cheated First, Why Cry When I Marry Your Brother
Chantal was only one day away from marrying Kayden Cole, the man who supposedly saved her life after a tragic accident left her blind. But an anonymous text led her to a hotel suite, where her heightened hearing caught the unmistakable sounds of her fiancé in bed with another woman. Standing outside the door, Chantal listened as Kayden's lover complained about their upcoming wedding. "Once I marry her and get that Beaumont-Carlisle board seat, I'll divorce her and marry you," Kayden laughed, his voice dripping with cruel indulgence. "What can a blind woman do without me?" He had been using her disability to control her, plotting to steal her family's legacy while treating her like a helpless, pathetic burden. There was no rage, and no tears. Chantal calmly stepped away from the door and pulled out her phone to cancel the wedding. She then ordered her assistant to contact Dallas Cole-the ruthless billionaire and Kayden's most hated rival. She was going to show him exactly what a blind woman could do./1/113992/coverorgin.jpg?v=24e2c84e45a3b383b509d6fdc57c8e1e&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Secret Wife Makes A Spectacular Comeback
On our third anniversary, I spent hours cooking my husband's favorite meal, waiting for him to come home. Instead of a greeting, I overheard him and his mother in the living room, planning to evict me. He was an A-list actor, and I was his secret wife—a "failed PR investment" they now wanted to erase with a $250,000 NDA. He told me my trailer-park background was a stain dragging his career down. Later, when I suffered a severe allergic reaction to a sleeping pill and nearly died, he didn't care. He stormed into my hospital room, accused me of faking a suicide attempt for attention, and called my late mother a pathetic drunk. Even the arrogant ER doctor treated me like a desperate, hysterical housewife wasting medical resources. I gave up three years of my life to be his unpaid maid and his shadow, only to be thrown away like garbage. But what my husband didn't know was that the mysterious, top-tier creator "Xen" he was desperately trying to sign a life-changing deal with to save his career... was actually me. I ripped the IV out of my arm, bleeding onto the hospital floor, and smiled at him. "I'm going to watch you fall." I hired the most ruthless divorce lawyer in LA to take half his fortune, and quietly canceled his dream contract. This time, I'm going to watch his gilded life burn to the ground./0/63378/coverorgin.jpg?v=1f5ede4662cccb30b6450b342fc5a8eb&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Returning Ex: A Post-Breakup Love Story
Here’s the translation: In our next encounter, he had become a top celebrity. Meanwhile, I was still at the village entrance catching geese. Someone mentioned me and asked, "Do you still keep in touch?" Zhou Sinian glanced down at me and replied, "No contact, not familiar." Three years ago, he said I was too clingy and that there was no way we could be together. After hearing that, I deleted his contact information, threw away his gifts, and walked away. I thought he was still the same. But I didn’t expect that from the very beginning of participating in the dating show, he was there for me./0/82845/coverorgin.jpg?v=20260106201425&imageMogr2/format/webp)
He Broke Her, She Built Herself
Eight years. Eight years of quiet longing, finally answered. Sarah Miller stared at the positive pregnancy test, her hand trembling slightly, a small, hopeful smile touching her lips. This was it. Mark and she were finally going to be parents. Their whispered dream was coming true. Her phone buzzed. An unknown Instagram account. A direct message. Curiosity pricked. She pressed play. The shaky video captured Mark' s unmistakable voice: "...after eight years, the spark just isn't the same with Sarah." Her blood ran cold. The hopeful smile vanished, replaced by a stark, gaping void. The pregnancy test clattered to the floor. Her world tilted. A flash in a mirror revealed Chloe Davis, the intern from Mark' s firm. Suddenly, the "late nights" and phone secrecy clicked. This wasn't just a fading spark; an illicit fire was being stoked. The cruelty was a physical blow, especially on this day. The next morning, at the OB-GYN, her confirmed pregnancy felt hollow. Leaving, she saw them: Mark, his arm around a limping Chloe. His tone dismissive: "Another fertility consultation, Sarah? Don' t stress." The cloying perfume, now familiar, suffocated her. How could he be so casually cruel, so protective of his "mentee," oblivious to what she carried? Her voice dangerously quiet, Sarah pulled out her phone. "A mentee?" she asked, and held up the screen, letting Mark's recorded betrayal fill the air. The truth was out. This was war./1/102312/coverorgin.jpg?v=988673d954faa94f8524c39444155663&imageMogr2/format/webp)
