Modern Books for Women
Bestsellers Ongoing Completed
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From Disgrace to State Champion
For years, my life revolved around the track, every stride a step closer to a college scholarship, my only ticket out. My younger sister, Molly, barely trained but somehow always beat me by a hair, basking in our parents' proud glances. I pushed harder than anyone, bleeding on the track, only for her to effortlessly pull ahead, usually with a smug, "Didn't want to hurt your feelings." But at the Regional Qualifiers, with college scouts watching, she took it too far. Mid-race, she faked a stumble and pointed straight at me, yelling I had shoved her. My own coach, convinced by the rumors she' d spread, disqualified me on the spot, erasing my dreams in one swift, heartbreaking blow. My parents, who worshipped Molly, accused me of jealousy, of being a "sore loser," even as I stood there, utterly numb, my future crumbling. How could someone who barely tried consistently beat me, then maliciously destroy my reputation and chances? Why did everyone believe her effortless lies over my years of sacrifice? Sitting on the cold floor of my room, staring at the wreckage of my life, I finally saw it: her success wasn't hers at all. It was a parasite, feeding on my effort, my dreams. And I realized, with chilling clarity, the only way out was to make the parasite eat itself alive./1/115664/coverorgin.jpg?v=72ef59743d0dd7fbcbefb928c7b5e4b5&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Tipping The Billionaire: His Runaway Lover
Alida caught her boyfriend in bed with another woman, only to discover a frat house contract on his nightstand. Her love and submission had been nothing but a fifty-thousand-dollar bet. She extorted the check from him to pay for her dying father's surgery, then went to a club to drink away the brutal betrayal. But her malicious stepsister secretly drugged her drink, planning to sell her to an underground thug to pay off a debt. Burning from the chemical mix and running on pure terror, Alida escaped into a VIP hallway and crashed straight into a wall of solid muscle. Desperate and out of her mind, she slapped the fifty-thousand-dollar check against the handsome stranger's chest. "I'm buying you for the night." She had no idea the man she just bought was Jax Vaughn, the ruthless, untouchable billionaire tyrant of Wall Street. The next morning, Alida fled the penthouse, leaving behind a single crumpled hundred-dollar bill and a humiliating note. "Service fee. Average skills. Like an uncivilized beast." Seven years later, Alida returned to New York, holding the hand of her genius seven-year-old son who possessed the exact same pitch-black eyes as the billionaire. She thought her past was buried forever, safely hidden away from the monster she had insulted. But her father's mounting medical bills forced her to accept a high-paying executive interview at Vaughn Enterprises. In the middle of the grand lobby, she stepped right into a familiar, terrifying chest. Jax Vaughn's iron grip locked onto her wrist, recognizing her scent instantly, his eyes burning with seven years of obsessive, murderous rage. "You."/1/102054/coverorgin.jpg?v=828cbf573e24a89aa516682206765801&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Twin's Last Martian Wish
For five years, I played the part of the devoted wife to a billionaire who despised me. I endured his coldness, his public affair with his mistress Gisele, and every humiliation he threw my way. All of it was a performance, a long game for one single purpose. On our fifth anniversary, the day my contract ended, I finally collected my deceased fiancé Julian's ashes. His last wish was to have them scattered on Mars, a dream only accessible to me through my marriage to his identical twin brother, Clayton. With my mission accomplished, I asked for a divorce. But Clayton, the man who had ignored me for half a decade, refused. He laughed, then kissed me with a brutal possessiveness I' d never felt before. "You're not going anywhere," he whispered. "You're mine now." He dragged me from our sterile penthouse, his eyes burning with a terrifying obsession. He offered me a real marriage, a child, a future I never wanted. He couldn't understand that my heart had always belonged to his dead brother. When I finally revealed the truth-that our entire marriage was just a means to fulfill Julian's last wish-he didn't let me go. He broke. He abandoned his mistress, begged, and even kidnapped me, convinced he could force me to love him. "You'll learn to be mine," he snarled, his sanity unraveling as he held me captive on his private jet. "We'll have children. They'll bind us together. You'll never leave me then." But he was wrong. This wasn't the story of a woman won over by a monster's late-blooming love. This was the story of my escape, and I was finally ready to be free./1/123486/coverorgin.jpg?v=e4b12f63c43f39cff7a320eb024a1f0f&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Redesigning His Regret After She Left
I had just gotten the sonogram of our long-awaited baby, ready to give my billionaire husband, Blake, the surprise of his life. But that night, a woman answered his phone. The next morning, he handed me a divorce agreement. He coldly stated our three-year marriage was just a business arrangement and he only ever saw me as a sister. His college sweetheart, Estella, had returned. To pave the way for his true love, Blake didn't just kick me out of our home. He destroyed my career. He abruptly cancelled my multi-million dollar campaign to make Estella the new face of our luxury brand. When a colleague publicly mocked me as a discarded stray dog, Blake protected her and ordered me to apologize. He even forced me to personally manage Estella's launch, letting her publicly humiliate me in the boardroom by revealing that the parting gift I cherished from him was actually bought by her. "You must take good care of it. I hope you don't mind that I had Blake pass it along." I was stripped of my husband, my dignity, and my hard work, reduced to a pathetic charity case. I touched my flat stomach, realizing the tiny life inside me would only be a liability to him. My three years of devotion were nothing but a cruel joke. Looking at the two people who had shattered my world, my heart finally turned to ash. I wiped my tears, calmly walked out of that boardroom, and prepared my counterattack. I would take my dignity back, piece by painful piece./1/116603/coverorgin.jpg?v=d94f752620e35dde357a2973cafbd98e&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Trapped By The Ruthless Wall Street King
Chloe was just a charity-case student surviving on the Beaumont family's trust fund, but she made a fatal mistake: a secret one-night stand with the untouchable Wall Street king, Arthur Beaumont. She begged him to forget it, but the ruthless heir treated her like a cheap transaction, throwing a penthouse code, a Birkin bag, and a sugar baby contract at her. When she threw his limitless black card back and chose to run away, her nightmare truly began. A malicious photo of her being shoved into his luxury car was leaked to the entire university by a jealous socialite. Overnight, Chloe became an absolute pariah, cyberbullied and publicly humiliated as a dirty girl kept by some ugly, old loser. Even Arthur's mother, the terrifying matriarch, began interrogating her, threatening to marry her off to a random man just to crush her dignity. Pushed to the edge, Chloe decided to fight back on her own, publicly pointing out the multi-million-dollar watch in the photo to expose her bully's lies. "Do you want me to call the police and have them investigate exactly who that man is?" But before the crowd could react, the Dean and Arthur's lethal bodyguard suddenly stormed into the classroom, instantly expelling her bully and crushing the girl into terrified silence. They weren't there to save Chloe; they were ruthlessly protecting Arthur's flawless identity. Standing in the dead-silent hall, watching the bodyguard's fleeting shadow, a suffocating chill ran down Chloe's spine. She finally understood the terrifying price of provoking capital, and she knew exactly what this meant: the devil was never going to let her go./0/79997/coverorgin.jpg?v=f6575ec89414a4118d8da4b6207493d4&imageMogr2/format/webp)
No Second Chance: Farewell, Mr. Heartbreaker
Katherine spent five years at Vincent's side-model secretary by day, compliant lover by night. When she heard of his arranged marriage, she stifled her pain and planned a quiet exit. That resolve cracked the moment she met his fiancée, daughter of the woman who'd wrecked her own family. Rage replaced obedience; Katherine resolved to claim Vincent. Yet he kept tossing her loyalty tips like she was only a plaything. Heart stung, she walked away with her last scrap of pride. Four years later they crossed paths again, a child gripping her hand. "I don't care who's the father," Vincent pleaded. "Come back, please!"/1/119732/coverorgin.jpg?v=0675008c5a290f7b959f3446f943b4e3&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Flash Marriage To My Mysterious Bodyguard
Aurelia woke up in a strange hotel room, her memory a complete blank from being heavily drugged. Before she could even process the blinding headache, a swarm of reporters burst into the hallway, led by her own sister, Celeste. Celeste had orchestrated the ultimate trap: drugging Aurelia and locking her in with a sleazy, married hedge fund manager to destroy her reputation on live camera. Although Aurelia’s highly-trained bodyguard, Hart, managed to tie the man up and flip the script on the reporters, the nightmare was just beginning. Her fiancé, Preston, broke their engagement in disgust, later showing up only to demand she become his secret, submissive mistress. Worse, her family board immediately froze her entire trust fund, cutting off her only lifeline. They wanted to break her. They wanted her to crawl back and beg her manipulative sister for forgiveness. Aurelia was cornered, completely betrayed by her own blood and stripped of her resources. She refused to let her vicious family win, but how could she fight back with absolutely nothing? Just as the trap closed around her, her enigmatic bodyguard stepped forward with a shocking proposal. "If we get married, your grandfather's trust loophole activates. They can't touch your money, and I get the legal right to protect you." Aurelia looked at the dangerous, capable man standing between her and ruin. She agreed to the marriage, using her new untouchable status to awaken her long-hidden identity as a shadow operative. Now, she wasn't just going to crush her sister—she was finally going to hunt down the elusive hacker who helped murder her mother./0/24149/coverorgin.jpg?v=f6dd50b2e6df080832a5990a7c30bb35&imageMogr2/format/webp)
La Elora: Vengeance & Lenience
The future of the two Great Empires lies in the line. Meredith, Ashriel's grandmother died in the hands of her adopted son. Blinded by her rage, Ashriel formed a Cadre that seeks vengeace and eradicates the Quislings. "All I want is to live a normal life, father." "Ashriel, I'm sorry. But you carry the pride of the family." "Pride... that's the thing that I never dreamed bear." Being the new foundation of the Great Empires, engaged with the person she does not love and a comrade with the person she cares about the most, how will she balance her duty and personal life? Being the youngest grandchild, some nobles of fair façade refused to support her rulership that became a mountain to her path. But a dead resurrected, and the hidden truth behind the Great Revolt and Meredith’s death was revealed. Knowing the weight of farewell, how can she live and love knowing that everything dear to her will come to an end? What happens when Ashriel chooses vengeance? What happens when she chooses Lenience? There is no salvation in rebellion./0/97518/coverorgin.jpg?v=af5c7bafdb4ddef31911cee9661cdc51&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Forgotten Daughter, Unforgettable Comeback
Cast off to a remote village at birth, Lilah was exiled while the woman who destroyed her mother stepped into her father's life. Her half-sister tried to claim her inheritance and title. Eighteen years later, Lilah returned. The town watched, hoping to see her fail. But Lilah stunned them-she was breathtaking and talented. A master in medicine, painting, racing, music, and design, she tore down every lie. Her father and stepmother faced ruin, and her foolish brother finally met his downfall. The once-mocking crowd trembled, especially with Cayden, her gifted, powerful partner, at her side. "Anyone who crosses my wife has to answer to me!"/0/86411/coverorgin.jpg?v=ec04a9e0c20a9d39efb4f70d3d8c3cbd&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Nanny’s Vengeance, A New Life
The grand hall buzzed, thick with the scent of champagne and success, a celebration for my son Liam' s tech company going public. My heart swelled with fierce pride, eighteen years of sacrifice culminating in this moment. Then, the main doors swung open, and I saw her: Olivia, my best friend, whom I' d watched die eighteen years ago, right after giving birth. Beside her stood Mark, my ex-fiancé, who' d abandoned me weeks before our wedding. They walked towards the stage like they owned it, and Liam, my son, beamed. "Please welcome my mother, Olivia Hayes, and her husband, Mark Johnson!" My mother. The words punched me. I watched, frozen, as Olivia embraced Liam on stage. "Some of you may know Susan Miller," Olivia announced, pointing directly at me as cameras flashed. "We faked my death and gave her our son to raise, to see if she would sacrifice everything for him. And she did!" Laughter rippled through the crowd, a grotesque mockery of my life. Mark added, "Now, the test is over. It' s time for our son to come home, to his real family." My eyes darted to Liam. No warmth, no love, only cool, dismissive pity. "Thank you for everything, Susan. You were a great nanny. But it' s time for me to be with my real parents." Nanny. Eighteen years of lullabies, scraped knees, and unwavering love reduced to a job title. The betrayal ripped through me, stealing my breath, and I collapsed into darkness. Then, the sharp, antiseptic smell of a hospital. The rhythmic beep of a machine. I was back. Back on the day Olivia gave birth. The day my life was stolen./1/117542/coverorgin.jpg?v=20260526213700&imageMogr2/format/webp)
My Blind Eyes Saw Everything
For a year, after sacrificing my sight to save my husband, Evander, I lived in darkness, clinging to his promise to be my eyes. What he didn't know was that my vision had quietly returned. I was eager to surprise him with this miracle, but the surprise would be all mine. Entering our silent Park Avenue penthouse, a cloying perfume and muffled giggle led me to Evander, entwined with his executive secretary, Katia, on our Fendi sofa. Her triumphant, cruel gaze met mine. Evander, dismissing my arrival, let Katia order me to fetch her "aspirin"—a veiled request for condoms. My love turned to ash as I obeyed, delivering the box. He patted my head, calling me his "good girl." My world vaporized. Betrayed, I was an invisible, manipulated pawn. My vision, a secret weapon, now saw everything with chilling clarity. Retreating, my hands, steady with purpose, sent an encrypted message: "I'm ready. I can come back anytime." The reply: "Waiting." The gilded cage opened; I was stepping out./0/83126/coverorgin.jpg?v=4c744abc557c62fc5016aa7901e95242&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Bride Who Rose from Ashes
Days before my picture-perfect wedding to Kevin Davenport, a man as beloved in our tight-knit town as his prominent family, my life stretched before me, an unblemished canvas. But a late-night stroll turned into a nightmare when I was savagely attacked, leaving me battered, disfigured, and my future hanging by a thread. Waking in the sterile hospital room, amidst the beeping machines, the true horror unfolded: my own father and brother, the very men who vowed to protect me, were the architects of my suffering. I overheard them celebrating, their voices chillingly calm, about how my "unfortunate accident" cleared the path for Dad's ambitious intern, Jessica Evans, to become a Davenport in my stead. They deliberately stalled my reconstructive surgery, allowing my severe injuries to worsen, while simultaneously unleashing a venomous smear campaign across social media, painting me as the villain. And then came the doctor's quiet confession: the brutal assault and subsequent neglect meant I might never be able to have children. The ultimate blow landed when Jessica herself glided into my room in my wedding dress, her triumphant smile twisting as she leaned in to whisper that she'd paid the attackers extra to ensure my visible "unforgettable" disfigurement. My father and brother watched, their faces hard with approval, ready to silence my pain. How could the family I loved, the people who should have protected me, orchestrate such a monstrous betrayal, sacrificing my body, my future, and my very identity for their ambition? The physical agony paled in comparison to the searing rage and profound despair that ignited within me, consuming every last shred of my old life. They thought they had broken me irrevocably, that I was a defeated, silenced doll in their cruel game. But as they celebrated their victory, I reached for a hidden burner phone, dialing the number of a woman they had underestimated for years: my formidable, estranged mother, Eleanor Vance, a corporate lawyer in New York. Let them think I was sedated and compliant. My real fight had just begun./0/82031/coverorgin.jpg?v=fbf6963a1d25133ae8c670e4790c5008&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Dying Wife's Last Revenge
My doctor' s words echoed: rare, aggressive cancer. My husband, Mark, squeezed my hand, his politician's smile unconvincing. Then came the sliver of hope: an exclusive experimental program. But my sympathetic specialist, Dr. Ramirez, also mentioned my adopted sister, Jessica, suffering from a "severe, debilitating" flu aftermath. Mark, backed by my parents, didn't hesitate. They deemed frail Jessica more deserving of the treatment, claiming I was "strong." I watched as my only chance was handed over to her. It wasn't enough. Soon, Mark asked for a divorce to marry Jessica, citing her "stability" and "Leo' s future." My life' s work, my beloved bakery chain, signed over. My son, Leo, began calling Jessica "Mom." Even as my body screamed warnings – nosebleeds, fainting – they dismissed them, telling me to stop being "dramatic" and "upsetting Jessica." How could they be so utterly blind? So consumed by their self-serving narratives, so deaf to my silent screams? I was dying, yet they only saw a "strong" woman who needed to be "sensible" and give everything away. But then, Dr. Ramirez slipped me an unmarked vial: an experimental analgesic, three days of perfect health before a painful end. Three days to look fine, feel normal. Three days for my ultimate plan. My revenge would be served cold, from beyond the grave./1/115665/coverorgin.jpg?v=3bad1142ace784335a6094fa7f88ccff&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Discarded Ex-Wife's Glorious Fragrance Comeback
Six years ago, Seraphina's billionaire husband slapped a fake infertility report onto the marble table. "Sign the divorce papers and get out," Julian commanded, looking at his wife of three years with pure, icy disgust. Kicked out into the freezing rain while heavily pregnant, her own family abandoned her like garbage thanks to her sister's vicious lies. She nearly died in a sterile operating room that night, giving birth to quadruplets, only for the grim-faced doctor to tell her two babies didn't survive. She spent six agonizing years rebuilding her shattered identity in London, raising her surviving genius twins. Meanwhile, her ex-husband paraded around New York with Livia, the very woman who orchestrated her ruin. But when a medical emergency forced Seraphina back to the city, her twins accidentally crossed paths with two identical children at JFK airport. Why did Julian's severely traumatized, mute daughter look exactly like her own little girl? And why did her genius son just hack into his father's private server, only to find her delivery records locked behind military-grade encryption? Staring at a faded ultrasound printout of four tiny shapes, a cold smile broke across Seraphina's face. Tomorrow night, the discarded wife they thought they broke was going to crash the Astor-Vance charity gala, and she was going to burn their empire to the ground./1/102055/coverorgin.jpg?v=f528b7005b2f6139b8a15aadd3d0d325&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Transactional Marriage: Her Bitter Ascent
The first time my husband, Gregory, chose a billion-dollar deal over my father' s funeral, I knew our marriage was a transaction. But when he started canceling meetings for an actress named Kennedy, I realized he was capable of love-just not for me. Then came the whispers of his devotion: buying her a theater, brawling with a director who criticized her. My investigation led to a "warning"-a hit-and-run that left me hospitalized. His assistant's message was chilling: "Accidents do happen." At the police station, after he'd been in another fight for her, Kennedy pointed at me and wailed, "Make her kneel! Make her apologize for breathing the same air as us!" Gregory' s cold eyes met mine. "Christie," he commanded, his voice deadly quiet. "Kneel."/1/125677/coverorgin.jpg?v=3290dcb4762ba23f246c8fe91ddc23b6&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Addicted To My Secret Genius Wife
My father called me into the opulent living room just to announce that my arranged marriage had been given to my stepsister. Olivia, wearing a smug smile in her Chanel suit, had stolen my fiancé. And as compensation, I was ordered to marry his older brother, Julian—a paralyzed outcast who lived in the neglected, rotting wing of the Sharpe estate. When I refused to be tossed away like trash, my father used my only weakness. "Sign the agreement. Otherwise, you know your brother's medical bills..." My brother Ethan was lying in a hospital bed, trapped in his own body by a rare neurotoxin. I had no choice but to sign the paper and be shipped off to the Sharpe family that very night. There, I was treated like a joke. The servants placed bets on my humiliation, and my new stepmother-in-law ambushed me with a public brunch to mock my country background. They all thought I was just a docile, uneducated pawn they could bully and discard. They didn't know about my perfect SAT score, my hidden Columbia University acceptance letter, or the jar of contaminated soil from my hometown I kept hidden in my bag. They didn't know I already understood the biochemistry of the poison destroying my brother's brain. Looking at the arrogant family trying to step all over me, and my observant, wheelchair-bound husband who was slowly uncovering my secrets, I smiled coldly. I didn't come to New York to be a trophy wife, I came for revenge./0/81249/coverorgin.jpg?v=8c7717467fd41a0d9c93b49010cad49d&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Woman They Tried To Erase
I risked my life daily, fighting monsters to keep our post-apocalyptic community, The Hollow, alive. Yet, they only saw Anna-the gentle, beloved persona inhabiting my body. My brother, Michael, and my former love, Caleb, preferred her, doting on her while ignoring the real me, Sarah. When Project Chimera offered "consciousness integration therapy"-a polite term for erasing me-my own people readily agreed. They celebrated it as Anna's path to freedom, pushing me to sacrifice myself on the very anniversary of my deepest sorrow. I retreated, a silent prisoner. Anna played the helpless victim, effortlessly charming Michael and Caleb, who lavished her with protection. Caleb, my last hope, gave her the tenderness he once reserved for me. "He chose me," Anna's smug triumph echoed in my mind, as my very self began to blur. The betrayal was a gaping wound. How could they discard me, the one who bled for their survival? Was I nothing more than a tool, an inconvenient ghost to be wished away? The agony was so profound, I willed myself into oblivion. But oblivion wasn't the end. Days later, a desperate Chimera needed my unique brain patterns. Forced to resurface, I came face-to-face with him: Ethan Vance, my forgotten childhood love. He wasn't there to erase me. He had orchestrated everything to bring me back-transferring my true self to my original, secretly healed body. My rebirth, stronger than ever, was just beginning./1/106592/coverorgin.jpg?v=1c023757db89649f9f4b04ef67fc42b0&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Too Late For My CEO's Regret
I was just another invisible marketing clerk at the Jennings Group, a single mother counting pennies to pay for my daughter’s medical bills. Then the glass doors of the executive elevator opened, and the new CEO walked in. It was Bridger Jennings, the man who had shattered my world five years ago and left me to pick up the pieces alone. He wasn't the boy I once loved; he was a ruthless tycoon who looked through me with a gaze of total, crushing indifference. The torment started immediately. Bridger targeted me in front of the department, cutting the late-night transportation I relied on and mocking my "supportive husband"—a man who didn't even exist. When he spotted a red smudge of paint on my neck, he mistook it for a love bite from a rival. His jealousy turned into a weapon, and he buried me under a mountain of impossible work, sneering that I should let my husband provide for me instead. I stayed up until dawn to finish the task, only to realize someone had sabotaged my files to ensure my termination. My manager threatened to fire me on the spot, and Bridger stood by with a cold smile, waiting for me to crawl and beg for mercy. I couldn't understand why he was so obsessed with destroying the life I had built from the ashes of our breakup. Did he still care enough to hate me, or was he just trying to prove I was nothing more than a smudge on the glass of his empire? Slumping against my desk, I finally found the digital footprint of the person who tampered with my work. Bridger thinks he has me cornered, but he doesn't know I'm the secret artist he's been desperately trying to hire—or that he's the father of the child he's punishing me for. The war has just begun./1/116604/coverorgin.jpg?v=c474c131882fba33b3918450434a3905&imageMogr2/format/webp)
His Unwanted Wife Demands A Divorce
For three years, Coralie was Alec Montgomery's flawless executive assistant and his secret contract wife. But everything shattered when his untouchable first love, Dianna, returned to the US. Dianna intentionally poured scalding coffee on her own hand and framed Coralie. In response, Alec's mother slapped Coralie across the face and had her locked in a freezing, dusty room to reflect on her "vicious behavior." When Alec finally found Coralie battered and bleeding, he was incredibly gentle. But the very second Dianna called crying about a fake break-in, he dropped Coralie's wounded hands and rushed out into the night. The ultimate reality check came days later at a construction site. A massive section of steel scaffolding suddenly snapped and collapsed right above them. In that split second between life and death, Alec lunged forward and tackled Dianna to the ground, shielding her completely with his own body. Coralie was left behind. A heavy steel rod violently crushed her shoulder, blinding her left eye with her own warm blood. Waking up in the ER with severe head trauma, Coralie looked through the cracked hospital door. "Are you hurt? Are you okay?" Alec asked frantically, comforting a sobbing Dianna who only had a tiny scrape. He never even checked if Coralie was alive. Three years of enduring his coldness and his family's abuse meant absolutely nothing compared to his first love's fake tears. Her heart didn't ache anymore; it was just completely hollow. She calmly picked up her phone and texted her lawyer to push the divorce proceedings forward. The marriage was over, and she was leaving for good./0/84378/coverorgin.jpg?v=20260106204528&imageMogr2/format/webp)
