Modern Books for Women
Bestsellers Ongoing Completed
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The Betrayal of a Dying Heart
When I stopped my wife’s assistant, Duard, from torturing a cat, a viral video turned me into a hero overnight. The public outcry was so intense that our company, which my wife and I co-owned, had to fire him. My wife, Jesse, seemed grateful, thanking me for opening her eyes. To celebrate, she cooked a romantic dinner and proposed a toast to our new beginning. The next thing I knew, I woke up on a cold concrete floor, my hands bound tightly behind my back. Jesse and Duard stood on a catwalk above me, livestreaming to the world. Below, surrounding me in a massive, deserted warehouse, were a dozen starving pit bulls, their ribs showing through their skin. "This is justice, Kai," she said, her voice stripped of all warmth. "For what you did to Duard." While the live chat called me a psycho, she told the world that I was the real animal here. She called Duard a kind soul and watched as the world turned against me. My loving wife was justifying my murder to a global audience. Then she gave me a choice: get on my knees, live on camera, and beg Duard for forgiveness. "Do that," she said, "and maybe I'll call them off." I looked from her cold eyes to Duard’s sadistic grin, and then at the hungry dogs. A surge of defiance cut through my fear. "Wrong answer," she hissed. "Duard, open the gates."/0/78077/coverorgin.jpg?v=20250712025514&imageMogr2/format/webp)
I Refuse to Be a Slave to my Ex and Husband
Aria, the ambitious heir to a prestigious family empire, has always dreamt of breaking free from her family's oppressive expectations and forging her own identity. But when she uncovers a chilling conspiracy that sees her framed for financial misconduct, her world spirals into chaos. The betrayal runs deep- her charming ex-fiancé, Julian, is not just a casualty but a mastermind behind the plot orchestrating her downfall, alongside her own family members whc prioritize legacy over loyalty Determined to reclaim her freedom and rightful place in the business, Aria embarks on a treacherous journey filled with emotional turmoil and shocking revelations. As she navigates a treacherous landscape of deception, she must build alliances with unexpected allies, face painful truths about ner family's dark past, and confront her unresolvec feelings for Julian, who struggles with his own demons. With each step, Aria transforms from a woman burdened by her lineage into a force of nature, ready to defy the constraints imposed upon her. Yet, as the battle for her identity intensifies, she must grapple with the fine line between revenge and justice. Will Aria rise to claim her power, or will the very bonds that tie her to her family keep her shackled in a life she refuses to accept?/1/104682/coverorgin.jpg?v=0e904d5b853b4af63d26ece556d7223c&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Mad Billionaire's Genius Undercover Wife
I arrived at my uncle’s mansion looking like human trash, clutching a one-way bus ticket and a duffel bag stuffed with old newspaper. My aunt looked at me with pure disgust, as if she could smell the poverty on my skin, but they needed me for one thing: to be a sacrificial lamb. They told me I was getting married to Julian Sterling, a man the elite circles called a violent monster locked in a cage. My uncle forced me to sign away my soul to save their failing fortune, while my cousin Kayla laughed and threw a torn dress at my feet, calling me a "rat from the Rust Belt." At the Sterling estate, the nightmare only deepened. Julian’s stepmother treated me like a horse she was forced to buy, ordering the staff to "burn off" my hair before locking me in the West Wing. I was thrown into a padded cell with a man who lunged at me, his heavy chains rattling against the floor as he roared with an animalistic rage that had already killed two nurses. They thought I was a pathetic, uneducated girl who "didn't read so good." They didn't know I had extorted two million dollars from my uncle before walking out the door, or that I was secretly recording every slap and insult they threw at me for future leverage. I huddled in the corner of that dark cell, letting them watch me tremble on the security feeds. I let Julian’s sister strike me with a riding crop and splash water in my face, playing the role of the clumsy, sobbing idiot to perfection. But the moment the cameras looped, the scared girl vanished. I pinned the "monster" to the floor, cut the neural tracking chip out of his neck with a hidden scalpel, and whispered into his ear as his blue eyes finally cleared. They thought they were sending a lamb to the slaughter. They had no idea they were sending a wolf to hunt a beast./1/117660/coverorgin.jpg?v=91754e1cc65f479e507473b68001a2ab&imageMogr2/format/webp)
One Night With The Scheming CEO
At the company gala, Chloe caught her boyfriend of two years making out with her best friend in a shadowed alcove. Heartbroken, she got blackout drunk. The next morning, she woke up wearing nothing but a man's dress shirt in a massive, sterile penthouse. The man walking out of the bathroom was Damien Sterling, the ruthless CEO of her company. Instead of firing her, he coldly assessed her and stated, "I don't make mistakes. Chloe, marry me. You are the most suitable candidate." Chloe refused, terrified of the ice-cold billionaire, and tried to focus on quietly plotting revenge against her cheating ex. But Damien wouldn't let her go. He manipulated her into accepting a career-making trip to Paris, subtly showed he knew her deepest secrets, and trapped her late at night in the empty office building. Then, the real nightmare began. The next morning, her department head found highly classified blueprints of their biggest competitor planted on her work computer. The files were downloaded late last night, exactly when she was stranded alone on the executive floor with Damien. She remembered the artisanal hot chocolate he bought her, the way he bandaged her sprained ankle, and the chilling realization that he had been secretly watching her for months. He didn't want a wife. He wanted a perfect, disposable scapegoat for corporate espionage. Staring at the fake evidence that would ruin her life and send her to prison, Chloe's blood ran cold. She wasn't just fighting her cheating ex anymore; she was at war with the most dangerous man in New York./1/134856/coverorgin.jpg?v=d79490ae57c429ca217fdf80f623cb6d&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Pampered By The Cruel Mafia Boss
Everlee dragged her bleeding body home after barely surviving a brutal kidnapping, only to find her billionaire husband throwing a lavish party. It wasn't to celebrate her survival, but to host a birthday bash for his adopted sister, Ayla, right on their fifth wedding anniversary. Instead of asking about the raw rope burns on her wrists, Jamison looked at her muddy clothes with utter disgust. "Where the hell have you been? Tonight is Ayla's birthday party. Look at what you're wearing. You're embarrassing me." When Everlee finally filed for divorce and went to the equestrian club, Ayla maliciously spurred Everlee's horse during a jump. The stallion bucked, throwing Everlee violently to the ground. As a pool of dark blood spread beneath Everlee from her rupturing womb, Jamison didn't even look at her. He scooped up a lightly bruised Ayla, leaving his miscarrying wife to die in the dirt. Saved by a powerful stranger, Everlee woke up in the hospital after an emergency surgery to remove her dead baby. Through the door, she heard Jamison's impatient voice talking to his mother. "Leave her alone in there. Once she realizes I'm not buying her little performance, she'll crawl back to the penthouse on her own and apologize to Ayla." He didn't even believe his own child had existed, reducing her tragedy to a jealous stunt for attention. Listening to the man she had loved for five years, the last shred of warmth in Everlee's heart turned to ash. She pressed a hand to her empty stomach, her eyes hardening into pure ice. With twenty-nine days left in their divorce cooling-off period, she was going to burn the entire Ingram family to the ground./0/81322/coverorgin.jpg?v=5d1b2a9ecf2e0da35f136a89437a1234&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Dashcam's Silent Witness
The knot in my stomach wasn't just anticipation for my prenatal check-up; it was the chilling premonition of a nightmare revisited. My husband Mark, our town' s revered Fire Captain, conveniently had an urgent training, leaving his childhood friend Jessica to sweetly offer me a ride to the doctor. But I knew this day, every terrifying detail, because I'd endured it once before. In my first life, Jessica had deliberately caused a horrific car crash, and Mark, the man who supposedly saved me, later turned into our baby' s and my executioner. This time, I secretly called 911, determined to change my fate, yet the horror unfolded eerily similarly. Mark arrived, doting on a minimally bruised Jessica, completely ignoring my severe injuries as I hemorrhaged, publicly shaming me while I agonizingly lost our child. The entire town, blinded by his hero status, rallied around Jessica, swiftly branding me the unstable, jealous woman who had caused all the tragedy. Isolated and shattered, the profound injustice burned through me, leaving me incredulous at their collective delusion. How could the truth be so twisted, and their eyes so firmly shut to the betrayers living among them? But they underestimated the silent resolve of a woman who had already walked through hell and returned. When Jessica pulled her next theatrical ploy, I didn't just stand there; I made a discrete call, armed with undeniable evidence from my dashcam, ready to expose the monsters and finally claim the justice my innocent baby never received./1/117336/coverorgin.jpg?v=57c6ff254903b383f98366cf47084fff&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Ninety Days Left: The Dying Wife's Revenge
The doctor gave Tessa exactly ninety days to live before her failing organs completely shut down. Stepping out of the clinic, her phone buzzed with a photo from her husband's mistress showing his custom watch on tangled hotel sheets. "Last night was exhausting. He really does not like going home to you, does he?" For three years, Tessa had been treated like a ghost while Lucian showered Vanessa with endless devotion. The cruelty peaked when Vanessa brazenly stole Tessa's masterpiece painting. When Tessa tried to stop the theft, Lucian ordered his bodyguards to pin his sick wife against the wall. "Are you trying to extort more money by staging an assault?" He threw a five-million-dollar check at her face and escorted his mistress away, leaving Tessa collapsing on the floor in physical agony. Why should Vanessa have everything—the love, the health, the future—while Tessa was left to die in pain and utter humiliation? She refused to fade away quietly. She altered their prenup to demand a three-hundred-million-dollar divorce settlement and used his limitless black card to hire the city's most expensive male escort, completely unaware the masked man she bought was her own furious husband in disguise. At the grand society gala, as Vanessa basked in the applause for the stolen artwork, Tessa stepped into the spotlight and held up a silver USB drive./1/105656/coverorgin.jpg?v=a0a48de4dc2378387e9f2eada4f60fa7&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The CEO Drove His Mute Wife Away, Now He Regrets
For three years, Adrian's heart belonged to another, and his wife Jessica-mute and unloved-endured his coldness. Realizing she deserved better, she quietly left him, divorce papers on the table. Adrian tore them up, accusing her of childish games, but Jessica had no interest in wasting more of her life. After their split, her voice returned and she was suddenly surrounded by admirers. Adrian, blinded by jealousy, begged her to come back. Jessica only laughed, repeating his own words, saying, "Didn't you say love is the most worthless thing in the world?" Now, she'd never look back./0/83918/coverorgin.jpg?v=20260106203429&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Phoenix Sisters Rise
The social worker cleared her throat, her voice tight with forced professionalism. "Jocelyn, Stella, we have some incredible news." I looked at my sister, Stella, and a cold dread crept up my spine. This was the beginning of the end; I had lived this moment before. In my last life, this was the day our biological families found us, only to tear us apart and send us to separate hells. I remembered the Clarks, my so-called family who let my "sister" Nicole frame me, break my leg, and destroy my track career, then threw me away into a life of abuse. Stella remembered the Lawrences; her jealous cousin Debra drugged her, stole her recipes, and had her locked away to rot in a mental institution. We both died, in our own ways. And now we were back, high school seniors, with the full, horrific memories of that future burned into our souls. "Your biological families have been located," the social worker chirped, her smile not reaching her eyes. "They' re waiting downstairs to take you home." My stomach churned, but Stella' s hand found mine under the table, her grip an iron promise. This time, no one was separating us. This time, we would fight back./1/103385/coverorgin.jpg?v=20260106223221&imageMogr2/format/webp)
His Cruel Joke, My Broken Heart
I did everything for Damian, my childhood best friend. His promise-"Get in shape, Lena, and I'll take you to prom"-was the only thing that mattered. I starved myself and ran until I collapsed, all for the future he dangled in front of me. But on his birthday, clutching the cake I' d baked, I overheard the truth. The promise was a cruel joke. To him and his real girlfriend, Gigi, I was just a "fat pig" whose desperate attempts to impress him were "hilarious to watch." They didn't stop there. They framed me for bullying, and Damian publicly denied ever caring for me. He then got my Stanford scholarship revoked with a malicious report and stood by as Gigi plastered my most private love letters all over school. I became a pariah, a "delusional, conniving bitch." The boy I had loved my whole life, the one who was supposed to be my protector, had orchestrated my complete and utter destruction for a laugh. Yet he still expected me to follow him to college. So when he called on move-in day, buzzing with excitement for our shared future, I let him ramble on about our plans. Then, I calmly cut through his fantasy. "I'm not here, Damian."/1/104683/coverorgin.jpg?v=7176332749a5c248328a2a42c1b65790&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Surgeon's Vow: Healing My Billionaire Husband
I sat in the gray, airless room of the New York State Department of Corrections, my knuckles white as the Warden delivered the news. "Parole denied." My father, Howard Sterling, had forged new evidence of financial crimes to keep me behind bars. He walked into the room, smelling of expensive cologne, and tossed a black folder onto the steel table. It was a marriage contract for Lucas Kensington, a billionaire currently lying in a vegetative state in the ICU. "Sign it. You walk out today." I laughed at the idea of being sold to a "corpse" until Howard slid a grainy photo toward me. It showed a toddler with a crescent-moon birthmark—the son Howard told me had died in an incubator five years ago. He smiled and told me the boy's safety depended entirely on my cooperation. I was thrust into the Kensington estate, where the family treated me like a "drowned rat." They dressed me in mothball-scented rags and mocked my status, unaware that I was monitoring their every move. I watched the cousin, Julian, openly waiting for Lucas to die to inherit the empire, while the doctors prepared to sign the death certificate. I didn't understand why my father would lie about my son’s death for years, or what kind of monsters would use a child as a bargaining chip. The injustice of it burned in my chest as I realized I was just a pawn in a game of old money and blood. As the monitors began to flatline and the family started to celebrate their inheritance, I locked the door and reached into the hem of my dress. I pulled out the sharpened silver wires I’d fashioned in the prison workshop. They thought they bought a submissive convict, but they actually invited "The Saint"—the world’s most dangerous underground surgeon—into their home. "Wake up, Lucas. You owe me a life." I wasn't there to be a bride; I was there to wake the dead and burn their empire to the ground./1/117661/coverorgin.jpg?v=037649572fe533dccb1f1e23972a11a8&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Reborn Heiress: Marrying The Wall Street Emperor
Chloe lay paralyzed on the cold hospital gurney, feeling the steady drain of her blood into an IV bag meant to save her stepsister. Then, through the cracked door, she heard the chilling voice of her fiancé, Arthur. He wasn't just draining her blood; he was waiting to cut out her heart. "It's an honor for her to trade her life for Kaitlyn's health," her adoptive father sneered. Arthur casually added that once Chloe was dead, her mother's trust fund and the family company shares would finally be theirs. To her absolute horror, they even bragged about how they had orchestrated her mother's death, laughing as they called it a perfect accident. The family she had trusted and the man she had loved for years had murdered her mother and were now butchering her for her fortune. A desperate, primal rage flooded her veins. She wanted to scream, to tear them apart, but the drugs kept her trapped in her dying body. With her last ounce of strength, she bit down hard on her own tongue and died. When she opened her eyes again, the smell of blood was gone. She was sitting in the lavish penthouse of New York's most ruthless billionaire, Julian Sterling. It was exactly five years ago, the day before her doomed wedding to Arthur. She had been reborn, and this time, she was going to drag them all to hell./0/85865/coverorgin.jpg?v=e31750504f2000c2cfb83b3db5cb20e9&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Wife's Betrayal: Son's Heart, Father's Rage
My life was a perfect picture, painted with my wife Olivia' s fierce love and our son Liam' s bright spirit. Then, a car crash shattered everything, revealing a truth so vile it clawed at my sanity. From my hospital bed, broken and grieving, I overheard the woman I adored, my Olivia, calmly discuss my son' s death as a mere transaction. Liam, our bright-eyed boy, wasn' t gone by accident; he was sacrificed, his heart destined for Mark and Olivia' s hidden child, Lily. The six years of blissful marriage, the grand gestures-they were all a meticulously crafted lie, a performance designed to groom Liam as an unwitting organ donor, and me as a pathetic pawn. My perfect family was a monstrous deception, and their car crash was an execution, my son' s death an assassination. The agony of my injuries paled in comparison to the chilling realization that Olivia had orchestrated a surgery to ensure I could never be a father again. How could the woman I loved, the mother of my child, be a cold-blooded murderer, meticulously planning our demise? My world was obliterated, but from its ruins, a cold, hard resolve ignited within me. If she wanted to play a game, I would play along, and then I would burn her world to the ground./0/82945/coverorgin.jpg?v=20260106201858&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Unwanted Dog, The Unseen Plot
My Golden Retriever, Max, was the heart of my dog daycare, Pawsitive Vibes. My boyfriend, Mark, usually walked him in the mornings-a picture of our perfect life. But one morning, Mark came back alone, leash dangling. "Sarah," he flatly stated, "Max ran off. He nipped me." Max? Aggressive? My gentle dog who wouldn't hurt a fly? Before I could question him, my phone blazed: "The Feed." "Max didn't run. He's with her. Elm Street & 7th. Red light. Big rig. NOW." Panic clawed at me. Mark dismissed my terror: "He's gone. We' ll look later." His indifference infuriated me. I sped to the intersection, just as I saw her-Clara-pulling Max into a speeding semi' s path. Risking everything, I saved him. As he trembled against me, "The Feed" delivered a crushing blow: "He gave Max to her." Mark had given my dog away. "Gave him to her?" I choked, rage boiling. "The Feed" then showed Mark's manipulative plotting with Clara, discarding Max and me. He tried to gaslight me, calling me "emotional." The betrayal was immense. The old Sarah would have crumpled. But a cold fury solidified. Armed with truth, I faced him. "We're done, Mark. Get out." When he threatened, I showed him a photo from "The Feed": him kissing Clara in a hospital-a damning breach. His face went ashen. Trust shattered. This was war now, and I was ready./1/134857/coverorgin.jpg?v=511304ee3c8e39b1c238d2bc93c3cd5b&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Hidden Heiress: Divorcing Her Ruthless CEO
I barely survived a terrifying commercial plane crash, dragging my bruised and bleeding body into the hospital emergency room. But the husband who had ignored my desperate calls was standing in the VIP OB-GYN ward, tenderly comforting his childhood friend. "Don't be scared, I'll arrange the best medical team to take care of you and the baby." When he finally noticed my blood-soaked forehead, his first reaction wasn't concern, but cold impatience. He accused me of faking my injuries just to make a scene, warning me never to cross his pregnant mistress because I was nothing but a cheap contract wife. To stop me from getting a divorce and leaving, he even used his corporate power to freeze my passport, demanding I strip off my company blazer in front of his mistress to humiliate me into submission. I had hidden my true identity and played the perfect, submissive wife for three years to repay a life-saving debt, only to be treated like disposable garbage. Why did I ever think my quiet devotion could warm a man who was busy fathering another woman's child? Without a second thought, I left the signed divorce papers, dropped his company jacket right on his desk, and snatched my passport back. This time, I'm walking away for good./1/123177/coverorgin.jpg?v=256b3d041d6bbd0be523cae0913f7f74&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Doomsday Rebirth:Hoarding Billions For Revenge
For ten brutal years of the apocalypse, I fought through blood and dust alongside my best friend Candice and my boyfriend Colon. But when our supplies finally ran dry, their true, greedy nature was exposed. They pinned me down and slaughtered my little pet pig, Winston, while he squealed in terror, just to get a few extra meals. When I screamed and fought back, Colon held a bloody knife to my face while Candice snatched my very last can of food. Then came the final betrayal. With a greedy sneer, they shoved me into a collapsed basement filled with the Blighted. "Thanks for everything, Aleen!" Candice laughed as they ran away. I fell straight into the grasping, rotting hands of the monsters, their groans filling my ears as I was torn apart and eaten alive in the dark. Until my agonizing death, I felt nothing but a chasm of pure, glacial hatred. I had given them everything. I even let them trick me into giving up my parents' apartment right before the collapse. How could I have been so blindly devoted to two parasites? Opening my eyes again, the soft lighting and the smell of burnt coffee shocked my system. I was sitting in a Starbucks, my hands perfectly clean with no dirt under the nails. I looked at my phone. October 12th, 2024. I had returned to exactly ten days before the world ended, and this time, I was going to drain them of every single cent./1/107279/coverorgin.jpg?v=b655a8d7a5a866374ff144a6ec9e77c1&imageMogr2/format/webp)
His Placeholder Bride, My Bitter Revenge
On the eve of my wedding to Grant Sutton, the heir to a vast real estate empire, I discovered the devastating truth. I wasn't his great love; I was just a convenient replacement for his wild, untamable ex, Ivory. He didn't love me. He loved that I was a polished, "suitable" version of the woman he truly wanted. When I walked away, he didn't just let me go. He destroyed me. After I published an exposé on his company's shady dealings, he had me fired and systematically ruined my reputation, painting me as a vengeful liar in the press. My own family turned on me, furious. "Think about us, Avery! You owe us this!" my sister shrieked, caring only about the fortune I'd lost them. I was left with nothing-no career, no family, no future. All because I was a placeholder in a love story that was never mine. Three years later, I came back. Not as the broken fiancée, but as A. Trevino, the anonymous journalist whose latest investigation targeted an elite institution. An institution with deep ties to the Sutton family. And this time, I wouldn't be the one who was destroyed./1/120257/coverorgin.jpg?v=d0fab50c5094ec394772a417318a93b0&imageMogr2/format/webp)
His Unwanted Wife, The Tycoon's Unforgettable Obsession
On the day Vivian got the report confirming her husband's cancer, he handed her divorce papers. Everyone thought Vivian was the dying one, and her mother-in-law sneered, "Why waste money if you won't live?" Her husband declared sharply, "She's pregnant. We're done." But the day Vivian signed the divorce, she married a ruthless, untouchable tycoon. As her hidden identities surfaced, he realized she was the woman he had wanted. While the tycoon became obsessed with her, her ex and his family drowned in regret. Vivian only smiled. "You told me to give up treatment? Funny. You're the one who's sick."/0/86839/coverorgin.jpg?v=0f9cb953316d40e7689c6bd46be0f442&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Kidney He Gave, The Love She Denied
I still remember the searing pain, trapped under twisted metal, watching my adoptive sister, Olivia, cradle her boyfriend, Noah, after our car crash. The paramedics arrived, and Olivia, without a second thought, chose to save him over me. Her words, "Him. Save him," echoed the countless betrayals that chipped away at my soul. They pulled Noah free, and Olivia' s cold gaze met mine, chilling me: "Ethan, you' re a man. You can handle it." Then she was gone, leaving me in darkness, the pain pulling me under. I woke in a hospital, paralyzed, framed as a reckless, drunk driver by Noah and Olivia. My adoptive parents, the Hayeses, looked at me with absolute disappointment. Olivia visited, offering false sympathy, then dropped a bombshell: Noah needed a kidney; I was a match. The same sister for whom I' d already sacrificed one kidney years ago, a secret bond I thought we shared. Now she wanted my other one for him. "Please, Ethan," she begged, "It' s the last thing I' ll ever ask. If you do this, I' ll forgive you for the crash." Forgive me? The rage was so pure, so hot, the only thing I' d felt in months. I laughed, a dry, rattling sound. "No." She went to the media, crying on camera about her ungrateful, drunkard brother refusing to save her beloved. My public humiliation was complete. I was a monster. Lying there, alone and hated, I closed my eyes. If only I could go back. Then, a sudden jolt. My eyes snapped open. I was standing in a hospital room, ten years ago. Unscathed. Olivia, pale but hopeful, asked: "Ethan... Will you give me your kidney?" Time had rewound. A system notification chimed: [A new life path has been initiated. You may be exposed to significant personal risk.] I looked at the woman who would condemn me, and felt no love. Only cold, hard resolve./1/103386/coverorgin.jpg?v=9dcd2c0771846d07abd6aac47792ed14&imageMogr2/format/webp)
