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Romance Books for Women

Bestsellers Ongoing Completed
Rekindling Old Flames

Rekindling Old Flames

“I need to teach you a lesson for defying me,” Beau says, and in an instant, my leg drops down. He puts his other hand on my waist and lifts me off my chair. Landing perfectly on him, my eyes widen once I feel him against me. “Yes, darlin’, you are the reason for it. And tonight, you are going to satisfy it.” He holds me down, hunger in his eyes. “I’ll do no such thing,” I say, resisting the urge to grind my hips against him. My already wet pussy is pressed against his hard length, and I find myself wanting to pull it out so he can fill me up to the hilt and make all my dreams a reality. “Oh, you will, and you are going to enjoy it.” Beau buries his head in my neck and places a kiss on my shoulder. My eyes close as he begins to grind against me. A moan escapes my lips, but Beau spanks my ass hard the second it does. “Don’t moan out, darlin’,” he says, putting his hand under my dress and caressing my stinging ass. “You don’t want anyone to hear us, do you?” he asks, kissing my neck before burying his head in my chest. I shake my head as pleasure surges through my body. “Good girl.” **** Delilah Stephen is a young architect trying to make it independently without Daddy’s help. She is so close to achieving her goal when something unexpected happens. The investor meant to make her dreams a reality turns out to be someone Delilah wishes never to see again, Beau Williams. He is a handsome billionaire with a dangerous family. He broke Delilah’s heart seven years ago and is now back to win her. Delilah passionately hates Beau, so he has his work cut out for him. She refuses to forget the past, but Beau doesn’t give up. He will stop at nothing to make Delilah feel something for him after so many years. But for how long can he keep trying, and will he ever succeed?
Three Years, A Shattered Reality With The Heir

Three Years, A Shattered Reality With The Heir

Three years. Three years of marriage to Olivia Reed, the woman who redefined my world. On our anniversary, I went to sign the final papers for our joint asset trust, a mere formality. But the city clerk told me words that shattered my reality: "According to our records, you are not legally married to Olivia Reed." My laughter died in my throat when she added, "There is a record of a marriage for Ms. Olivia Reed... to Alex Thorne. It was filed two years ago." Alex Thorne. My protégé. The talented young architect I'd mentored, the man I trusted after our ceremony. The wedding certificate, the grand gestures, the vows-all lies. Every single one. I pieced it together: Olivia's sad eyes, her whispers of a "replacement" while I was overseas, her tears and apologies for being "paranoid" about Alex when I returned. Now, I heard her cooing to him on the phone, "To him, I'm his devoted wife. To the world, you' re my husband. It' s a perfect arrangement. I have his love and your legal status. I have everything." Everything. And I had nothing. I was a sham. A joke. The love I felt, a towering structure, crumbled to dust. There was no rage. Just a cold, empty void. Then, the sculpture crashed. Olivia chose him, shielding him, letting the heavy steel frame slam into me, crushing bones. Lying broken in the hospital, I watched her dote on him while ignoring me. I realized she had intended to erase me. This wasn't a mistake. This wasn't an accident. This was a brutal choice, a calculated punishment. Ethan Miller, the trusting fool, was dead. I decided then. I wasn' t confronting her. I was disappearing. And then, when she least expected it, I would take it all away.
His Betrayal, Her Freedom

His Betrayal, Her Freedom

The ripping sound was louder than any wedding bell, tearing not just my custom gown, but the perfect façade of my wedding day. My fiancé, Liam, rushed past my ruined dress to console his childhood friend, Brittany, who lay sprawled at my feet, feigning shock. "It' s just a little tear, Chloe. Don' t make a scene," Liam dismissed, waving away the wreckage of my dreams, while Brittany hid behind him, a smug triumph in her eyes. A hundred betrayals flashed through my mind: canceled anniversaries, shared secrets, Liam always taking her side. I had believed his lies, "She's like a sister to me, Chloe. You' re the one I love," but his actions screamed a louder truth. A cold calm washed over me, replacing the humiliation with stark clarity. I slowly removed my veil, letting it fall, then twisted my diamond engagement ring off my finger. I walked to the guest book table, placed the ring precisely in the center, and faced them. "Liam," my voice was quiet but resolute. "The wedding is off." I didn't wait for his response, focusing solely on my own liberation after three years of being second best. The garden venue grew heavy with silence as Brittany broke the spell with a theatrical sob, clutching Liam's arm. Liam, as if on cue, wrapped his arm around her, publicly comforting the woman who had just humiliated me. "It' s the stress of the day," he explained to the guests, while his aunt chimed in, defending Brittany' s supposed innocence. The clean, deliberate rip in my dress screamed aggression, not clumsiness. "Really, Brittany?" I asked, my gaze fixed on her. "Or did you just want to make sure everyone knows who really comes first?" Brittany flinched, real frustration flaring in her eyes, as Liam turned on me, his voice low and angry. "What is wrong with you, Chloe? She' s my best friend! Can' t you just let it go?" He gaslighted me, painting my anger as overreaction, her malice as a childish mistake, as Brittany played the wounded victim. Liam's eyes, filled with pure disappointment, showed his concern was entirely for her, my feelings completely dismissed. My last flicker of hope died; this was the culmination of a thousand betrayals, a profound exhaustion settling in my bones. I was done fighting, done being angry; I just wanted it all to be over.
A Wife's Reckoning

A Wife's Reckoning

Eight years of marriage, white tablecloths, and soft candlelit dinners. My husband, Liam, the man who once promised forever, took my hand across an expensive restaurant table. But the perfection shattered when he pulled his hand back, revealing his family' s relentless demand for an heir. Then Chloe, a "good, healthy girl" from the countryside, appeared in our living room, brought by his iron-willed grandmother. Soon, I overheard the whispers: Chloe was pregnant. Liam' s baby. When I confronted him with divorce papers, he begged, "I thought it was you." I believed his pleas for one more chance, for him to "handle" Chloe. But the real test came in a dusty warehouse: his business rivals, a choice to be made. "You can only have one," a cold voice stated. "Your wife, Ava, or your other woman, Chloe, carrying your heir." I held my breath, knowing he should choose me. "Let Chloe go. Protect the child. I need the child," Liam' s voice echoed, cold and distant. Then came a frantic whisper, "Ava, I promise. I' ll come back for you." The last thing I saw before the metal pipe struck was his empty promise, his true betrayal. I woke in a hospital, three days later, battered and abandoned. He didn' t come. He never called. He arrived later, no remorse, only self-pity, declaring, "I had to protect the heir. It was the only choice." His grandmother dismissed me as a barren failure, while Chloe, playing the innocent martyr, cried, "I told Liam to choose you… but he insisted on saving the baby… our baby." Watching him fuss over her, over their baby, something clicked. I was pregnant. Seven weeks. And he had just sacrificed our child, draining me for her, for a lie. My father's factory burned, his heart giving out from the shock, and Chloe, playing the sympathetic helper, framed me for arson. Then Liam had me committed to a psychiatric facility, where I barely survived a head injury. I finally understood: this wasn't about love, or even an heir. It was a calculated, ruthless game of power and betrayal. A cold, clear rage settled in. I would not just leave. I would make them pay. I would burn his kingdom to the ground.
Reborn to Rewrite: The Paramedic's Vengeance

Reborn to Rewrite: The Paramedic's Vengeance

The pain was a memory, sharp and final, then nothing. Now, air filled my lungs in a gasping shock, and I was back in my old, small bedroom. Sunlight, the same damn sunlight from that cursed morning, streamed through the window, my paramedic uniform folded on the chair. I was plunged back into the day Victoria Belmont, the woman I married, first entered my life. In my previous existence, she and her lover, Dylan Vance, had revealed it was all a lie: she claimed she was never sick, that my family's "Healing Aura" was a sham, and that my mother and I conspired to fake her illness to trap her in marriage. They tortured me until I was nothing, then left me to die in a desolate wasteland. The aftermath ripped through my innocent family: my dad' s hardware store bankrupted, my kind mother, Maria, driven to madness. I learned too late that Sarah Miller, a quiet librarian, was my true savior, not the manipulative Belmonts. The raw agony of betrayal, the humiliation, the sheer injustice of my family's ruin-it was a horror that had followed me even into death. How could I have been so utterly blind to the monsters masked by wealth and charm? But now, I was whole. I was back. And when the familiar knock echoed from downstairs-"Ethan, dear, Mrs. Belmont is here to see you"-I steeled myself. Her voice, not yet broken by grief, sounded like a death knell for their future. This time, I' d write a different ending.
Contract, Baby, And Billionaire

Contract, Baby, And Billionaire

The cold screen of my phone cast a harsh glow on Olivia' s smug, made-up face-my art school rival-her latest post a candid, unflattering photo of me. Then, I saw the caption: "Some people will do anything for money. Here's Scarlet, a little fuller these days. Wonder if she finally landed a big fish. Or maybe it' s just a little goldfish she' s carrying?" The comments exploded, branding me a gold-digger, a woman using a baby to trap a man. Nausea churned in my stomach, not just morning sickness, but pure panic. Just as the world narrowed to the poison spreading online, a new notification flashed: a press release from the Sterling Corporation. My heart pounded as I clicked, expecting another blow. Instead, it was an announcement from the notoriously reclusive tech mogul, Liam Sterling: he confirmed he was the father of my unborn child and vowed legal action against any defamation. The world tilted. Liam Sterling? The legendary, untouchable genius from college? It was impossible. I had never even spoken to him. How could he be the father of a child conceived in a transaction with a nameless stranger in a dimly lit hotel room-a desperate mistake made to save my dying grandmother? It made no sense. The public shaming felt insignificant now, overshadowed by a terrifying reality: my quiet, desperate life had just collided with a world of unimaginable power. I was trapped, a pawn in a game I didn' t understand. I had signed a contract for survival, and now I was paying the ultimate price.