Modern Books for Women
Bestsellers Ongoing Completed
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The Jilted Fiancée's Spectacular Corporate Revenge
On our seventh anniversary, I walked into my fiancé Brad's office with our marriage paperwork, ready to surprise him with a trip to City Hall. Instead, I found him half-naked with Sienna, a manipulative socialite client. When I caught them, he didn't even apologize. He gaslighted me, secretly stripped my legal protections from our new corporate contract, and brazenly promoted his mistress to be my direct assistant just to humiliate me. The nightmare peaked when Sienna's thug of an uncle assaulted me at a lounge. I fought back, smashing his hand to defend myself. Brad burst into the room, but he didn't check if I was hurt. He looked at me with pure disgust, protected my attacker, and demanded I apologize. "You are making a spectacle. You're embarrassing the family name." I stared at the man I had loved and built a company with for seven years. He knew my deep trauma of being an abandoned foster child, yet he chose to throw me away like garbage to please his new toy. The injustice and sheer cruelty of it made my blood run cold. But I swore long ago I would never be a victim again. I dumped him on the spot, walked out, and blackmailed him to get my rightful money back. While he thinks he's getting ready for our lavish high-society engagement gala next week, I am meticulously setting a trap to broadcast his embezzlement and dirty affair to the entire board of directors./0/82274/coverorgin.jpg?v=61745903f649c4f12740b2f693f1cfed&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Too Late, Mr. Billionaire: Her Sacrifice Burned Away
Ava Miller, terminally ill with ALS, fled a brutal five-year imprisonment in a mental health facility. Her desperate wish was a final act of control: a pre-arranged full-body donation for complete disintegration, leaving no trace behind. But her carefully planned escape shattered when she collided with Liam Donovan, her former fiancé and the man who believed she was responsible for his beloved sister' s tragic death. Liam, consumed by grief and rage, dragged Ava into a new nightmare, intent on making her pay for Chloe' s loss. Despite her rapidly worsening illness and broken body, Ava shielded a secret that would exonerate her but destroy Chloe' s memory, embracing Liam' s abuse as penance. She endured public degradation, horrific assaults, and even a forced bone marrow donation that left her paralyzed, all to uphold her silent promise. How could the man she still desperately loved be so cruelly blind to her innocence and suffering, allowing his hatred to consume her? Why did she choose to sacrifice every shred of dignity for a truth she couldn't speak, leaving her stripped of everything but oblivion? Her final agonizing moments came in a fire he implicitly condoned, prompting Liam to slowly unravel her devastating sacrifice through hidden clues long after she was gone. Now, haunted by the profound truth of Ava's unwavering love and innocent torment, Liam is forced to confront the monstrous depths of his own actions, embarking on a brutal journey for redemption, only to discover some truths come too late for forgiveness./0/85843/coverorgin.jpg?v=cadc8acd2096357bff7d08f3990e424a&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Engagement Betrayal
The grand ballroom shimmered with a golden glow, filled with the hum of celebration. It was my engagement party, a day before the wedding, and for eight long years, I had believed I was marrying the man of my dreams. Then, a casual conversation shattered my world. My fiancé, Mark, and his friends revealed a bet-a perverse wager placed on my virginity, my wedding night reduced to a prize in their cruel game. Humiliation washed over me as Mark stood by, allowing their repulsive jokes, even adding to them, reducing my years of devoted love to mere "merchandise." His "intimacy phobia," which I' d patiently nurtured, was nothing but a calculated deception to keep me at arm's length while he truly lived. My supposed future husband, the epitome of my life' s aspirations, had been laughing at me all along. How could he? How could the man I loved betray me so utterly, so casually, right before our wedding? Every sacrifice, every moment of understanding, felt like a fool' s errand. Was everything about us, about him, a lie? I wouldn't stand for it. The wedding was off. But this wasn't just a cancellation; it was a detonation. I would make sure he paid for every single lie, every betrayal, and every tear./1/115368/coverorgin.jpg?v=8601f583e8c1bfa9639d4c4f784e9be1&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Billionaire Hunting His Ghost Wife
For three years, I was trapped in a paper marriage to a billionaire I had never met, until my father forced me to finally visit his hotel suite. But when I walked in, I found my husband, Bryton Lott, heavily drugged by my own father. Stripped of all reason, Bryton violently pinned me down and took my innocence, making me a pawn in my father's sick scheme to force a pregnancy and save his bankrupt company. After escaping his feral grip, I overheard Bryton call my father. He called me a useless, invisible wife, vowing to hand me divorce papers the second he saw my face. The nightmare didn't end there. When I brought a priceless antique jade bracelet to my mother's birthday, she slapped me across the face in front of the entire elite crowd. My stepsister publicly accused me of selling my body. Hiding in the shadows, I even heard my mother admit she wished I was dead, only keeping me around to exploit my marriage. I had played the obedient, impoverished daughter for years, enduring their endless abuse just to protect my grandmother's legacy. Why did my own flesh and blood treat me like a sacrificial lamb to be sold and destroyed? The last thread holding my heart together completely snapped. I left the multi-million dollar bracelet on the cold stone sill and walked out into the freezing night. Snapping my everyday SIM card in half, I pulled out an encrypted satellite phone and activated my true identity as the underground world's top operative, "King." "Run a full hostile intelligence sweep on Apocalypse Corp."/1/119586/coverorgin.jpg?v=fba1b256fb2257cbb0705bd19b6ee6f5&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Divorced And Pregnant: The Billionaire's Hidden Heir
I married billionaire Harrison Sterling to fulfill a dying grandmother's wish, but to him, I was nothing but a scheming leech. When my grandfather needed emergency surgery, I swallowed my pride and begged my husband for the money. Instead of helping, he humiliated me in front of his mistress, forced me into his bed, and then threw $250,000 at me as "severance." "Take the money, sign the divorce papers, and disappear from my life." I took the blood money, left his mansion without a backward glance, and paid for my grandfather's surgery. But my brief taste of freedom was shattered by a frantic call from my abusive mother. My brother, locked in prison because Harrison believed he killed his ex-fiancée, had been brutally beaten. "If you don't make Harrison save him, I'll go to the press and ruin you both!" I was trapped between a toxic family and a husband who wanted me ruined. Harrison hated me to his core. He had no idea that years ago, I was the teenage girl who dove into a freezing riptide to save him from drowning. With my phone blocked and his security ordered to throw me out on the street, I had no official way to reach him. So, I stole a caterer's apron, tied my hair back, and sneaked into the heavily guarded Sterling Tower. This time, I wasn't going to beg./0/81950/coverorgin.jpg?v=20260106200002&imageMogr2/format/webp)
My Wife, The Narcissist CEO
I just closed a fifty-million-dollar deal for Innovatech Solutions, the company I co-founded with my wife, Jess. My team, the Trailblazers, cheered as Jess, our CEO, hugged me, promising a "really special bonus." That bonus was a crudely drawn Sharpie watch on my wrist and a flimsy "next year" promise. Later, my blood froze seeing Liam Walker, her incompetent "Executive Assistant," beaming with keys to a company-leased Porsche, courtesy of Jess. His Instagram: "Real love means exclusive pampering. #BestBoss." Humiliation burned as Jess frantically spun excuses, then offered me the baby I' d always wanted if I' d "unlike" the post. When I refused, she retaliated, punishing my loyal team while Liam' s cronies went untouched. "You'll get over it," she snapped, hanging up. The Porsche was just the latest, undeniable symbol of her two-faced hypocrisy and a years-long affair. My love for the woman I married had completely evaporated, replaced by a profound, weary exhaustion. I was done enabling her narcissism, done absorbing her endless betrayals. "Let's just get a divorce," I told her, my voice flat and final. Then, I called Innovatech' s biggest competitor, ready to secure not just my future, but my entire team's, forcing her to finally face the consequences./1/110826/coverorgin.jpg?v=c45238a98340c62c9c35ee05a23eafc3&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Love and hate intertwined
I had loved Silas for ten years. But on the very day I was diagnosed with a terminal illness, his first love returned home. I loved him. Whether he loved me in return, I didn't know—I couldn't feel it. But I was certain he would never cheat. In the final days of my life, I flawlessly played the role of the perfect wife. After I died, he found my diary. And when he finished reading it, he broke down and wept with a gut-wrenching, soul-crushing agony./0/82599/coverorgin.jpg?v=20260106200817&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Orphan's Reckoning
I was an orphan, adrift in the real world, until I found what I believed was stability and love in the Continuum Program. Here, in this vivid simulation, I was a "Prime Beneficiary," granted a perfect life with my chosen partner, Chloe. I clung to our "perfect emotional bond," making every sacrifice and enduring agonizing "Feedback Dissonance" for her "brain injury," convinced it was the price of true devotion. But everything shattered the moment a simulated car deliberately slammed into me. Standing over my broken body were Chloe and Liam, her long-hidden lover, her "brain injury" miraculously gone. "Your Prime Beneficiary status. We need it," Liam sneered, while Chloe callously admitted her love and injury were lies, a manipulative act to keep me until they could steal my life. My hard-won status, my entire programmed existence, was merely a resource for their personal gain. They stripped me bare, taking my savings, forcing me to kneel and crawl for a few coins in an act of ultimate humiliation. Then, Liam confessed: he had maliciously lied to my only remaining family, my kind surrogate grandfather Mr. Henderson, directly causing his death. Overwhelmed by a tidal wave of betrayal, grief, and unbridled fury, I stared into the void of my shattered life. How could I have been so blind, so trusting, to the monsters I had cherished? The years of Dissonance, the mental agony I'd endured, were not my failing, but the bitter harvest of their deceit. For a moment, I considered ending it all, pressing the self-deletion button to escape this torment. But a new, cold resolve hardened within me, sharper than any pain they had inflicted. "I'd like to stay," I told them, my voice hollow. I offered to be their housekeeper for the brief time remaining before my forced exit. My real intention was a dark, patient vigil: to witness the very "perfect bond" they coveted, the one that had broken me, tear them apart, piece by agonizing piece./0/83897/coverorgin.jpg?v=7215f5eec55b69b0d7df89e70e7a17da&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Architect of Her Own Ruin
Matthew Scott, my fiancé and business partner, looked at me with that serious expression I used to find charming. He told me our architecture firm, our shared dream, was on the verge of bankruptcy. I didn't hesitate when he asked me to invest every dollar of my life savings – the down payment for our future home – into the company. It was for us, he said, to protect our dream. The very next day, I saw an Instagram post from our office manager, Sabrina. It was a photo of a deed for a brand new condo. And on it, clear as day, were the names: Matthew Scott and Sabrina Todd. My savings, gone, for their secret purchase. Before I could even process the betrayal, Sabrina faked a breakdown, accusing me of bullying her for merely 'liking' her post. Matthew, my fiancé, publicly sided with her, demanding I apologize and pay her moving expenses for emotional distress. He called an emergency all-hands meeting, grandstanding about family values while humiliating me in front of the entire office. He even tried to illegally garnish my salary, claiming it was for Sabrina' s brother' s education. The shock, the disbelief, the sheer audacity of being betrayed and then publicly pilloried by the man I loved and trusted with everything. How could he do this? How could he use my hard-earned money and then try to destroy me professionally and financially? That moment, watching him stand there with her, delivering his sick performance, something inside me snapped. I didn't argue. I didn't cry. I simply picked up my phone and called the Texas Workforce Commission to file an illegal wage claim./0/87466/coverorgin.jpg?v=8714af73cc64dae9704e055bf4adb1c7&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Family's Secret: A Love Consumed
My sister, Honora, told me I killed our family in a car crash. Our parents and my adopted brother, Aloysius, were dead. She said it was all my fault. She told me I had a debt of blood and ruin to repay. For eight years, I worked three jobs, my body aching from sixteen-hour days. I lived in a tiny, damp room, ate the cheapest bread, and sent every single penny I earned to her. The money was for one thing: to buy back our family's lake house. It was the symbol of the life I had destroyed, the one place I thought I could find forgiveness. After eight years of sacrificing my health and my youth, I finally saved enough. I went to the house, ready to atone. But when I peered through the window, my world stopped. My parents were there, alive, holding champagne glasses. And sitting between them, smiling, was Aloysius—the boy who was supposed to be dead. They were celebrating his birthday. Then I heard my mother speak. "It's also Jesse's birthday today," she said casually. "We've punished him for five years. Don't you think it's time we bring him back?" Honora's smile vanished. "No. We agreed on seven years. Not one day less." Hidden in the shadows, I clutched the medical report in my hand. Their cruel game was about to be cut short. I was already dying./1/116342/coverorgin.jpg?v=6f67c27321d872925d6fbb0f02b05628&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Sign The Divorce Papers, Mr. Billionaire
For three years, Coralie played the perfect, compliant wife to billionaire Cale Montgomery, silently enduring his coldness. That illusion shattered when she caught him in a VIP club hallway, indulging his fragile first love, Hayleigh, while his friends mocked Coralie as a pathetic housewife. Cale expected her to lower her head and submit. Instead, Coralie threw an ice-cold martini in Hayleigh's face. Furious, Cale dismissed her rebellion as a tantrum for a bigger payout. To force her submission, her own father called with a vicious ultimatum. "If you don't get Cale to fund my business, I'll cut off the payments to your mother's care facility today!" When Coralie rushed to the hospital to pay for the life support herself, she noticed a deep, unnatural scratch on her comatose mother's antique gold ring. Someone had tried to pry it off her finger. The nurse admitted her stepmother had just visited. A chilling realization froze Coralie's blood. Her mother's tragic car crash three years ago was never an accident. She marched straight into Cale's corporate headquarters and threw a zero-alimony divorce agreement onto his mahogany desk. When Hayleigh tried to humiliate her with VIP tickets, Coralie shredded them into pieces and let them rain down on her Chanel suit. "I don't chew other people's spit-out gum." Coralie wasn't just walking away from this gilded cage anymore. She was going to tear both of their families apart to uncover the truth./1/123480/coverorgin.jpg?v=87b6f0ec149ca7cbe012bbbe4b3b01a3&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Billionaire's Runaway Substitute Bride
Kara Sexton was the illegitimate daughter of the Sexton family, forced into a PR marriage with the disabled Benton heir as a disposable placeholder. But on the night before she was supposed to sign the divorce papers, her stepmother drugged her. She woke up in a stranger's hotel bed, stripped of her dignity and her late mother's precious silver locket. Terrified, she fled back to her toxic family, only to face their relentless cruelty. Her stepsister, Emilia—who had secretly refused the marriage because of the groom's injured leg—conspired to publicly humiliate Kara at their grandmother's birthday banquet. They framed her with a counterfeit designer gown and accused her of selling her body to a sugar daddy to afford her stunning appearance. "Where did you get that kind of money? Dare you deny that some old man gave you these things to show off with tonight?" Her own father and grandmother watched with cold disdain, ready to cast her out like garbage. Kara looked at these blood relatives who had stolen her dowry, pushed her into a loveless marriage, and were now trying to destroy her reputation. They thought she was just a weak, uneducated girl from the countryside who would silently swallow their abuse. They were wrong. Kara calmly summoned the original designer to expose her sister's fake dress, tossed a thirty-million-dollar priceless emerald on the table, and publicly ripped away the family's hypocritical mask. She didn't need their charity, and she was done playing the victim. And as she walked away from the ruined Sexton family, Domenick Benton—the billionaire stranger from that night—finally locked onto his target./0/85844/coverorgin.jpg?v=2df2c81404d85a95eef25d824d68c61c&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Love, Loss, and Vengeful Hearts
The phone rang, an unrecognized number, pulling me away from a routine check-up on a golden retriever. My life, for a moment, felt normal, calm. "Sarah… it' s me." Mary Johnson, my former mother-in-law. We hadn't spoken in three years, not since the funeral. My heart pounded as her strained voice stumbled: "Tomorrow… it' s Ethan' s..." I cut her off, the name a raw wound. Then she dropped the bomb: Mark, my ex-husband, wanted to visit the grave of the son he had killed. The calm shattered. I hung up. I blocked her number. The past, which I had so carefully buried, clawed its way back, a monstrous memory that began with a white leather handbag. Mark' s assistant, Chloe, obsessed with her new Celine, watched as my five-year-old son, Ethan, tripped and spilled juice all over it. Instead of comforting his sobbing child, Mark glared at Ethan, his voice cold: "You need to be punished. You need to learn a lesson about respecting other people's things." That was the excuse. The next day, he took Ethan to his office for a "father-son day." I kissed my boy goodbye, told him to be good for his daddy. It was the last time I saw him alive. The call came when I was thousands of miles away: "Ma'am, there's been an incident involving your son, Ethan. You need to come home immediately." At the hospital, Mark was nowhere to be found. Only his parents, Mary and David, stood by the operating room, their faces pale. The doctor emerged, his face grim. "We did everything we could… We couldn't save him." My world imploded. Then came the police officer, his voice low, detailing the horror: Ethan was found locked in a soundproofed server room at Mark' s office, dead from severe heat stroke. And Mark? He and Chloe left the office for an impromptu trip to Napa. My brain refused to process it. Mark locked our son in a hot room and just left him to die? With her? I fumbled for my phone, needing to hear him deny this monstrous story. His voice, annoyed, answered: "What? I'm busy, Sarah." I choked back tears: "Ethan… Mark, Ethan is dead." Just "Oh." Then Chloe's syrupy voice in the background: "Mark, honey, who is it? Come back to bed." My blood ran cold. "Are you with her?" I asked, my voice a dangerous whisper. He hung up. He blocked me. Our son was dead, and he had blocked my number to avoid ruining his trip with his mistress. The phone clattered to the floor. The world went black./1/134187/coverorgin.jpg?v=037b2de0766eaf8169b05f3f4b3f6863&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Cost Of His Cruel Billionaire Game
When the wealthy Whitfield family finally found their biological daughter, my eighteen years as their adopted child instantly meant nothing. My adoptive parents and my fiancé handed me an invoice for $12.4 million in back child-rearing costs, demanding I repay it by selling my memories to the Memory Bank. "You need to learn some humility and sacrifice something real if you want to earn your place back in this family." At the welcome gala, they stripped me of my inheritance, banished me to a table by the kitchen doors, and my fiancé publicly called off our engagement. No one remembered that it was also my birthday. They assumed I would sell a few trivial childhood memories, feel the sting of their discipline, and come crawling back to beg for their mercy. They genuinely believed my love for them was an infinite resource to be squeezed, that every hug, every lullaby, every promise could be given a cold, precise price tag. So I gave them exactly what they asked for. To clear the debt in full, I had every core emotional memory of them permanently extracted. The family and the man I once loved became strangers to me, completely and forever./0/19981/coverorgin.jpg?v=8129e08c5be673a953fc32d0071ef17d&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Who is The Better CEO?
With a fire at home that killed her mother, Maryanne found herself thrown into a highly conniving life. Her fiance had joined forces with her best friend and she was not sure if they were simply after her wealth or life. Will she survive or lose everything that her family owned? Who is behind the fire? Who can she trust? Where did her brother Drew disappear to? Is he alive or dead?/0/74164/coverorgin.jpg?v=2816c470b06ac6b360aeec47a19d5139&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Mafia Heiress's Comeback: She's More Than You Think
Sawyer, the world's top arms dealer, stunned everyone by falling for Maren-the worthless girl no one respected. People scoffed. Why chase a useless pretty face? But when powerful elites began gathering around her, jaws dropped. "She's not even married to him yet-already cashing in on his power?" they assumed. Curious eyes dug into Maren's past... only to find she was a scientific genius, a world-renowned medical expert, and heiress to a mafia empire. Later, Sawyer posted online. "My wife treats me like the enemy. Any advice?"/0/80653/coverorgin.jpg?v=73717041c88c906e06867a61d7aed374&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Heiress They Tried to Bury Alive
At 19, my life was a grinding loop of diner shifts and supporting my "struggling" family for their poverty-porn YouTube channel. Mom's cough, Dad's despair, Ethan's gambling debts – it was all grist for their online mill. A desperate five-dollar Powerball ticket was my only sliver of hope. I won. Five million dollars. It was our salvation. But when I told them, expecting cheers, I got cold terror. My 'family' didn't celebrate; they attacked me, trying to destroy the ticket and then me. I escaped, only for them to launch a vicious online smear campaign, painting me as an ungrateful thief. They found me at a shelter, paraded me as "troubled" for their loyal fans, and dragged me back to their nightmare. The verbal abuse was relentless, followed by a brutal physical assault that left me broken. "Five million?" Ethan sneered. "That's pocket change compared to what you're *really* worth to us, dead or alive." His chilling words echoed a terrifying truth: this wasn't just about money. Their horrific reaction, the decades of quiet cruelty – it clicked. Why did they want me dead for a lottery win? What deeper, darker secret was I threatening? I knew, with a sickening certainty, they weren't my real family. I had to uncover the truth, starting with a hidden box. I would expose their lies and reclaim the life they stole./0/84871/coverorgin.jpg?v=903912920d3e956943176ff60f9a58ba&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Rose Garden Revenge
For ten years, I, Eleanor Vance, played the perfect wife, silent and supportive, while my celebrated architect husband, Robert, built his monuments of glass and steel-and enjoyed a revolving door of ninety-nine mistresses. But the real crack in my meticulously constructed facade came when his latest, Liam, moved into our guesthouse and began digging up my most cherished possession: my rose garden, a sacred memorial to the two children we lost. Not only did Robert permit this desecration, but he publicly humiliated me, praising Liam as a "dazzling talent" at a lavish party more extravagant than our wedding, while our social circle whispered and pitied me. The ultimate blow came when he used the memory of our dead children as a weapon, ordering me to kneel before Liam. How could he so casually dismiss my grief, my sacrifices, and the sacred space I carved out of our shared tragedy? How could a man I loved with every fiber of my being tear down my very soul for an empty imitation of a past ghost? In that shattering moment, as a cruel smile spread across his face, I knew my love for him was finally dead; and Eleanor Vance, the dutiful wife, chose to embark on a radical, irreversible path to reclaim her life, her dignity, and her legacy, planning a public, messy fight he wouldn' t see coming./1/123805/coverorgin.jpg?v=819befd38af265dc1051a885b24d891c&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Wife He Abandoned Was a Billionaire Heiress
For three years, Chloe White endured daily humiliation from her mother-in-law, desperately trying to be the perfect wife to warm her cold husband, Julian. But when Julian finally came home today, he didn't even look at her. He coldly ordered her to pack her things and move out of their master bedroom. He was giving their marital room to Scarlett, his fragile old flame who was returning from abroad. His mother gleefully watched Chloe's color drain, mocking her lowly birth and praising Scarlett's arrival. When Chloe softly reminded him she was his wife, Julian stepped close and sneered, accusing her of using dirty tricks to force their marriage. He treated her like disposable trash, evicting her from her own home to make way for his true love. Looking at the man she had loved so deeply, Chloe's heart completely turned to ashes. She had buried her own brilliance just to be his shadow. Why did her three years of absolute devotion mean nothing against Scarlett's fake tears? Without a single tear, she packed her bags, walked out of the gilded cage, and slapped a divorce agreement flat against Julian's chest at the airport. "Sign it. And we're even." Stepping into a waiting sports car, Chloe returned to her hidden billionaire grandmother and uncovered the bloody truth behind her father's death. This time, she was going to make the Montgomerys and the Finches pay with everything they had./0/50804/coverorgin.jpg?v=3095b30f6ed25ea0c1f046621bfb3329&imageMogr2/format/webp)
