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Modern Books for Women

Bestsellers Ongoing Completed
The Red Dragon's Lair

The Red Dragon's Lair

An orphan girl who was bullied in her childhood, grew up in the slums along with her brother seeing the underbelly of the city full of crime and greed. Her brother intervened when his friends were trying to teach her a 'lesson' and was killed for it. That night she decided she was never going to be weak again and she would be the nemesis of crime. Her most recent case leads to a face off with a drug lord who works in multiple countries and runs human trafficking rings. Will she survive the dangerous drug mafia who stop at nothing? She got in touch with a social organisation and got herself into schooling. One step at a time she completed her education and became a cop. She meets Andy when he visits her police station to file a complaint against Sushant for assault on Mia, his best friend. Andy is an IT professional working with a multinational company. Mia and Andy were best friends since high school. A good looking athletic guy with the best brains, he soon loses his job to office politics. Takes it as an opportunity and creates the most successful startup of the country. Anya is an integral part of his journey. Andy's start up funder is a woman connected with film and drugs industry. What will he have to give up to realise his big dream? His money and Anya's job brings glamour, decadence and dangerous liaisons into their lives. They come together to create a volatile mixture of passionate love, ruthless crime, base desires, human degradation, death and devastation; where his life hangs on a thread. How much will she go through before she breaks?
Shattered Vases, Broken Promises

Shattered Vases, Broken Promises

The silence in the sprawling mansion was a physical weight, pressing down on me as I hunched over my drafting table. They called me Liam' s wife, but I was merely the ghost in his machine, designing award-winning architecture he took full credit for. My mother-in-law, Eleanor, swept in, her venomous words cutting deeper than any knife, accusing me of being a gold-digger and a disgrace. Then, my world shattered. My younger sister, Ava, appeared, showering Eleanor with affection, a warmth I only dreamed of. Suddenly, a Ming Dynasty vase lay in pieces. Eleanor shrieked, blaming me, her eyes filled with a terrifying conviction: "She's jealous. She wants to destroy everything beautiful in this house." Later, Liam arrived, surveyed the wreckage, and effortlessly dismissed my silent plea, his cold eyes branding me as nothing more than a careless maid. Night fell, and I overheard Liam and Ava' s intimate murmurs, her soft laughter echoing through the cold mansion. A sick feeling coiled in my stomach. The shattered vase, the familiar intimacy between my husband and my sister-it was all a blur of confusion and betrayal I couldn' t comprehend. My father' s critical illness became a cruel reminder of the life I' d abandoned for a loveless marriage. Finally, fed up, I told Liam I wanted a divorce, expecting a fight. Instead, he simply said, "Alright." Too easy. My relief quickly turned to unease. He looked at me with an unreadable expression, a strange mixture of something unidentifiable. Why was he agreeing to this so easily? What was I missing? Driven by a desperate need to save my father, I pushed past my fears, resolved to unravel the web of deceit that entangled me, knowing this was my only chance at freedom and perhaps, redemption.
The Villainous Wife's Spectacular Comeback

The Villainous Wife's Spectacular Comeback

For two years, Aria was a prisoner in her own body, forced to watch helplessly as a parasitic "System" hijacked her life. The nightmare shattered in a crowded neon club when the System forced her to slap New York's golden boy across the face, before abruptly detaching from her brain. Control slammed back into her limbs, but she was left to face a completely ruined reality. The System had turned her into a malicious, hysterical stalker. It had destroyed her reputation, alienated her best friend, and forced her into a loveless arranged marriage with Julian Carlisle, a ruthless billionaire. When she woke up in the hospital, the tabloids had already branded her a violent psycho. Her powerful mother-in-law threw the glossy tabloid photos at her feet with pure disgust. "If you cannot explain this right now, you will sign divorce papers and get out!" A suffocating wave of injustice and panic gripped Aria's chest. She had lost two whole years to a sick game she never agreed to play, taking the blame for horrific actions she couldn't stop. What exactly was that mechanical voice, and would it ever come back to finish her off? But Aria refused to just roll over and die. Wiping away the heavy makeup of the villainess she never was, she stared at her dangerous husband and made her first move. "I was drugged." With that single calculated lie, she began her counterattack to manipulate the Carlisle family, clear her name, and take her freedom back.
Reborn From Ashes: Divorcing The Billionaire

Reborn From Ashes: Divorcing The Billionaire

I was tied to a concrete pillar in an abandoned warehouse, the heavy stench of gasoline suffocating me. Ten steps away, a masked kidnapper slammed a loaded Glock onto a metal barrel and forced my husband, Alvie, to make a sick choice. "The wife or the mistress. You only get to walk out of here with one." Alvie didn't even blink. He walked straight toward the dark corner where his mistress, Gail, was crying. He wrapped his arms tightly around her, shielding her, and guided her toward the exit. He never looked back. He didn't cast a single glance over his shoulder. To him, I was already a corpse, just trash left on the pavement. The kidnapper laughed and tossed a lighter onto the soaked concrete floor. A wall of ghostly blue fire erupted instantly, swallowing me whole. The absolute agony of my skin blistering and melting shattered my sanity. In my last moments, consumed by the inferno, I couldn't understand how the man I had loved and served so submissively could leave me to burn alive. My heartbreak quickly morphed into a hatred far deeper than the flames. Then, I violently jerked awake. I shot up from the bed, gasping for cold air, my hands frantically checking my perfectly smooth, unburned skin. I looked at the desk clock. I had returned to exactly four years ago, the morning of the annual Gallagher family gathering. The fragile, naive wife died in that warehouse. This time, I am going to destroy them both.
Jilted By Prince, Claimed By King

Jilted By Prince, Claimed By King

It was the night of the Winter Chalet Gala, the most prestigious event of the year and the night my life was officially supposed to begin. I was the perfect socialite, a Senator’s golden daughter, and the fiancée of Prince Clement. Then my sister, Bailee, handed me a glass of champagne with a sweet, innocent smile. "Just a sip for luck, big sister." Within minutes, my blood turned into liquid fire. In my past life, I didn't realize that "luck" was a drug designed to strip me of my dignity. I had stumbled into a hallway where a planted stranger waited for the paparazzi to catch us. The scandal was the first nail in my coffin. My family disowned me, my fiancé abandoned me for my sister, and I eventually ended the nightmare by jumping off the Golden Gate Bridge. I died in the freezing bay, realizing too late that my sister’s love was a death sentence and my parents had already replaced me. The betrayal felt like swallowing broken glass, a pain more suffocating than the salt water that eventually claimed my lungs. Why did the people I loved want me dismantled? Why was my suicide their only version of mercy? Opening my eyes again, I was back on that snowy balcony three years ago. The iridescent pearl manicure was back on my fingers, and the drug was already screaming in my veins. But I won't be the carcass for the vultures this time. I kicked off my heels and climbed the stone railing, looking toward the forbidden Royal Wing. I’m not going back to the trap. I’m going to the only man powerful enough to burn them all: King Ignatius Fisher.
The Bride Who Vanished: His Public Humiliation

The Bride Who Vanished: His Public Humiliation

I woke up to the acrid smell of smoke and the piercing screams from the university's burning arts building. My twin sister, Chloe, was trapped inside. My boyfriend, Ryan Ashton, stood poised to run, a heroic silhouette against the licking flames. But a memory, sharp and cold, sliced through me – my first life, a nightmare I' d lived and died. I remembered him shoving me, my hand smashing against debris, crushing the bones and ending my promising violin career. Chloe died anyway, yet he blamed me, publicly shaming me. He then married me. Not for love, but for a twisted, prolonged revenge. He systematically broke me down, convinced everyone I was a monster, even my own parents who coldly agreed, calling me selfish. My existence became a quiet, constant hell until he locked me in a suffocating room, leaving me to die. Now, it was happening again: the fire, the screams, Ryan ready to play the savior. Every agonizing moment, every betrayal, every whispered accusation from my family hammered in my mind. The sheer, burning injustice of my first life fueled a new, chilling resolve. But this time, I knew. This time, I would break the cycle. I stepped aside. He charged headlong into the inferno, screaming Chloe' s name, never once looking back at me. My hands remained perfect, unscathed. My future was mine alone. This time, destiny would be rewritten. This time, my revenge would be a symphony.
The Runaway Bride And The Disabled Billionaire

The Runaway Bride And The Disabled Billionaire

I was the illegitimate daughter of the Kirk family, treated like a disposable pawn and forced into an engagement with the abusive Cory Travis. At a high-society gala, my half-sister orchestrated a trap, hiring a man to drug my champagne and drag me to Cory's suite, where a hidden camera waited to record my total ruin. I managed to switch the glasses and fight my way out, but the retaliation from my family was brutal. When my father found out I humiliated the Travis heir, he slapped me across the face and locked me in my bedroom. "Then I will break your legs, and I will have you carried to the altar." He froze all my bank accounts, leaving me with absolutely nothing. I tied my bedsheets together and escaped into the night, only to be hunted down by Cory's men and cornered in a pitch-black garage. I pressed my back against the cold brick wall, suffocating under the injustice of it all. Why did my own blood want to destroy me so badly? How could I possibly survive against two powerful dynasties? Just as Cory lunged to tear off my clothes, a sleek black Bentley pulled up, and a man in an impeccably tailored suit stepped out to retrieve me. The man waiting inside the car was Grant Carlisle, a ruthless, legendary billionaire confined to a wheelchair. He didn't save me out of pity; he knew I was a neurosurgery prodigy, and he needed me to fix his crushed legs. Realizing this was my only chance at survival, I looked at the devil in the wheelchair and proposed a deal that would make my family regret the day I was born.
My Success Is The Best Revenge, Darling

My Success Is The Best Revenge, Darling

It took seven years for Ethan to convince me I was the center of his universe, and exactly seven weeks for his "business partner," Chloe, to prove I was just a placeholder. I was the woman who ironed his shirts and managed his schedule, yet she was the one he comforted at 2 AM. But the real end didn't come with a fight. It came with an explosion. At a family gathering, a gas heater malfunctioned. Glass shattered, and fire erupted. In that split second of life or death, Ethan didn't look for me. He threw his body over Chloe. He shielded her from the flames, cocooning her in his arms, whispering frantically to her while I stood twenty feet away, watching my boyfriend of seven years act like I didn't exist. When I confronted him later, he didn't apologize. Instead, he let Chloe carve her initials over ours on our anniversary tree. When I tried to stop them, he shoved me into the dirt to comfort her over a broken nail. "You are dead to me, Ava," he screamed. "Jealousy makes you ugly." He thought I would beg. He thought I was an appliance he could unplug and plug back in whenever he wanted. He was arrogant enough to believe I would always be there, waiting for his scraps. He was wrong. While he was playing hero to his mistress, I didn't cry. I booked a one-way ticket to Portland, snapped my SIM card in half, and vanished. By the time he realized the silence in his apartment wasn't peace, but abandonment, I was already gone.