Romance Books for Women
Bestsellers Ongoing Completed
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Selma A Leader
"Selma The Leader" is a captivating story that follows the inspiring journey of Selma, a fearless woman who becomes the unexpected leader of a nation. Set in a fictional country called Alamar, the plot addresses the challenges faced by Selma in dealing with corruption, inequality and injustice in search of a fairer society. The story begins when Selma, an idealistic woman passionate about justice, decides to run for president of Alamar. With a past marked by hardship and inequality, she is determined to bring real change to her country and give voice to the marginalized. However, she faces an uphill battle against the powerful interests that dominate politics and society. Facing threats, defamation and betrayal, Selma maintains her integrity and perseveres in her mission of transformation. It mobilizes the support of engaged citizens, social movements and a new generation of rising leaders. Through inspiring speeches and daring actions, Selma wins the hearts of the people and becomes a figure of hope and inspiration. As president, Selma faces monumental challenges. It seeks to reform corrupt institutions, combat social inequality, promote education and protect human rights. The story follows her tireless struggle and the personal sacrifices she makes in the name of her vision for Alamar. "Selma A Leader" is an engaging story about courage, leadership and the belief in one person's power to change the world around them. Through the ups and downs of Selma's journey, we are led to reflect on the importance of hope, resilience and the power of transformation to create a better future./0/86495/coverorgin.jpg?v=29f7122c5b8fd8226701e7a5e1af8149&imageMogr2/format/webp)
His Cruel Betrayal, My Dying Wish
My husband, Liam, locked me out of our bedroom for the third night, a faint murmur of voices audible from inside-his low and soothing, hers soft and appreciative. Chloe, eight months pregnant with his child, was in my bed. But I had just finished massaging Chloe' s swollen feet, even making her warm milk. This was the same husband who had built our ten-year marriage on the unwavering foundation that we would be child-free. And when the baby cried from the nursery down the hall, it wasn' t Chloe who rose, but me, spending the entire night caring for their child. The next morning, I learned Chloe had a "dying wish": to be Liam's wife. He presented me with divorce papers, asking me to sign. He believed I had finally understood what it meant to be a selfless wife. He thought he had broken me, that this was his ultimate victory. He was wrong. I wasn' t broken; I was dying. Stage-four stomach cancer, inoperable, aggressive. Three days to live. As I nursed his child, listening to him make love to Chloe in our bed, the pain in my stomach sharpened. The irony tasted metallic. The next morning, Liam handed me black coffee-the kind Chloe liked, the kind that upset my stomach-and again, the divorce papers. When Chloe later appeared, wrapped in my silk robe and wearing the "Star of the Ocean" necklace I had coveted, she taunted me with Liam's dismissal of my desire for it. Overwhelmed, I collapsed, but when Liam appeared, he slapped me, then had his bodyguards drag me away. He called me a jealous, bitter monster. Why would he, the man I loved, turn so cruel? How could he believe such lies? Why did the universe allow me no peace, even in my final moments? I refused to be his broken toy. With the last of my strength, I offered him my entire company, signed over with a bloody thumbprint. Then, in an act of final defiance, I cut down the magnolia tree-the symbol of our love-and burned all my memories. My death was not just an ending, but a deliberate unmaking of his world, a final, painful act of rebellion./0/94004/coverorgin.jpg?v=b60a667d0608e3b12330f24ff5707f8c&imageMogr2/format/webp)
A Second Chance At The Choosing
In my first life, I married Connor Walls, the golden heir to the Barrett Corporation, believing my father's sacrifice had earned me a fairytale. Instead, it bought me a gilded cage and a brutal death. He left me to bleed out on the cold marble floor of our mansion while he entertained a guest one floor below. He was a predator disguised as a prince, a man whose public smile charmed the world while his touch left bruises no one could see. For years, he tormented me, painting me as the villain while my own cousin, Jana, clung to his side, reinforcing every lie. The world adored him. They saw a perfect couple, a powerful alliance. No one saw the monster I lived with. No one knew the truth behind my "accidents." Until I died, I was trapped. But then, I was reborn and opened my eyes again. I was back at the Choosing Ceremony, the day I was supposed to bind myself to him forever. This time, I remembered every agonizing detail. And this time, his ruthless, outcast brother Brannon was also an option./0/38156/coverorgin.jpg?v=d1a1786c95bc43e3cbdce33b11d0d16d&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Sweet Love, Deep Kiss
After a dirty contract was signed, she was caught back to his side and became the noble Mrs. Quan. The next morning, she held her wrist, “Excuse me, Master Quan, are you an electrical man?” “Aren’t you clear about it?” He was an emperor in the business world but loved her to an extreme degree. When her ex got married, the master felt displeased and forced her to go with him! “It’s so windy outside. If I were blown into others’ arms, they wouldn’t return such a cute me.” He pinned her down on the bed, “Who dare touch you? Are they courting death?” When the truth was known to all, she snuggled up to him:” Why do you treat me so well?” “I haven’t got tired of making love with you.”/0/22043/coverorgin.jpg?v=94e118463b0da5c1a961cabfb047dea5&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Caught A Heather
Bellamy Quinn Mayer, daughter of a well-known businessman and woman. Her life is unfortunate because she's being controlled by her parents. Even so, she chose to understand them because she's hoping that the time will come and they would do the same towards her. She had a hard time moving on from her dark past that nobody knew except a few. She was in her miserable state until she met Jan Keane Scott, son of a well-known businessman. He showed her the love and care she has been longing for. They faced everything together but what if their parents and their pasts are already the ones whose hindering them to be together? Would they choose to stay in torn or let go?/0/85400/coverorgin.jpg?v=74fa017de8e4a1e4c3c899547c07cbc2&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Love's Final Betrayal: A Fading Star
On the day of my funeral, Chloe was getting married. That' s the simplest way to put it, the starkest truth that defined the end of my story and the beginning of hers. While a handful of people who genuinely loved me gathered under a gray, weeping sky, she was bathed in sunlight and applause, standing under an arch of white roses. But before that quiet end, there was a loud, painful beginning. It started the day Mark Johnson came back, pulling up to our small, rented house in a car that cost more than I made in three years. That night, the air in our little house felt tight, suffocating. Chloe stood in the doorway, her arms crossed, not looking at me, but at a future I clearly wasn't a part of. "We need to talk, Ethan." Her voice stripped of warmth, cool and measured, delivered the blow. "Mark is back. He' s offered me a position at his firm. A real career. A chance to have the life we' ve talked about." The "we" felt like a lie. "I' m saying I can' t do this anymore," she finally met my eyes, her gaze hard. "I can' t keep waiting for you to make it. This game of yours… it' s a hobby, Ethan. It' s not a future. I need security. I need more than what you can give me." Each word landed like a physical blow, a deep ache starting in my chest. What she didn' t know, what I hadn' t told anyone, was why I was always tired, why I was losing weight, why I coughed. A month ago, a doctor used words like "inoperable" and "palliative." I had chosen to finish my game, my legacy, rather than waste away in a hospital. Chloe saw my silence, my gaunt frame, and my tired eyes, and she misinterpreted it all. She saw weakness. "Look at you," she said, her voice laced with new cruelty. "You' re always tired. You' re letting yourself go. Is this what you want? To just waste away in front of this computer screen?" The irony was so thick I could have choked on it. I just turned back to my screen, my fingers finding the keyboard. "Are you even listening to me?" she snapped, frustration boiling over. "This is what you always do! You just retreat into your little fantasy world and ignore reality! I' m talking about our future, and you' re playing with your stupid game!" The pain in my chest turned sharp, a real physical thing. "I' m sorry, Chloe. I' m sorry I couldn' t be what you needed." I considered telling her, a desperate plea, but imagined the pity, her ambition chained to a dying man. I loved her too much to burden her. She took my apology as failure. "It' s too late for sorry, Ethan." She walked out, the front door closing with a soft, final click. The sound echoed in the sudden, crushing silence. I was alone. The pain in my chest exploded. My breath caught. I slid from my chair, hitting the floor with a dull thud. The last thing I saw was my glowing monitor, a testament to a love she had just thrown away. I woke up in a new kind of silence, hovering weightless, looking down at my own still body. I was dead. The silence was broken by Sarah, my best friend, slumped in the hospital chair, shaking with silent sobs. Her grief was immense, a storm. In the days that followed, I watched her, heartbroken, as she handled my final affairs. She grew thinner, hollow-eyed, fueled by pure will. She found my favorite hoodie, inhaling its scent. "What do I do, Ethan?" she whispered to the empty room. "I don' t know how to finish it without you." Then, her phone rang. Chloe. Sarah' s thumb hovered. "Hello?" Her voice was flat. Chloe' s voice was unnaturally cheerful. "Sarah! Hi! I know things were… tense… the other day, but I wanted to put that behind us. Mark and I are getting married!" Sarah' s muscles tightened. "We' re having the ceremony this Saturday. It' s at the Botanical Gardens. It would mean a lot to me if you came. As a sort of… peace offering." Saturday. This Saturday. Sarah' s eyes darted to the calendar. Next to it, one word: Funeral. The phone slipped from her hand. Chloe' s voice tinny from the floor, "Sarah? Are you there?" Sarah stared into space, a horrifying mask of disbelief and dawning rage. My funeral and Chloe' s wedding. The same day. She picked up the phone, ended the call. She looked at my game icon, then at the hoodie. "Oh, Ethan," she whispered, a sound half-sob, half-laugh. "She' s getting married. On the day we bury you, she' s getting married." I floated there, helpless. The tragedy was written. On Saturday, Sarah stood in front of her mirror, not in simple black, but in a stark, severe goth dress. She looked like an avenging angel of grief. She was going to the wedding first. No, Sarah, don' t. My silent scream from my ethereal prison. Just let it go. Let me go. But she couldn' t hear me. The Botanical Gardens buzzed with happy chatter. When Sarah walked in, a hush fell. People stared. Chloe saw her, annoyance clouding her bridal radiance. "Sarah, what in the world are you wearing? Is this some kind of sick joke? You look like you' re going to a funeral." Sarah' s voice was unnervingly calm. "That' s because I am." Chloe stared, uncomprehending. "After this, I' m going to a funeral. It' s at two o' clock. It' s for Ethan." Chloe' s face went slack with shock, then hardened with disbelief and anger. "That is not funny, Sarah. That is the most twisted, horrible thing you could possibly say. You' re trying to ruin my wedding day. Did he put you up to this? Is this his pathetic attempt at revenge?" Mark strode over. "Is everything alright, darling?" He sneered at Sarah' s dress. "What is this? Some kind of performance art?" "She' s trying to ruin our day," Chloe said, trembling. "She' s saying… she' s saying Ethan is dead." Mark laughed, a dismissive, ugly sound. "Don' t be ridiculous, Chloe. It' s a pathetic cry for attention. He' s probably hiding in the bushes somewhere, hoping you' ll come running." Chloe looked back at Sarah, her certainty reinforced by Mark. "You need to leave. Now. I' m sorry I ever invited you. I should have known you' d try to pull something like this." She turned to Mark. "I' m sorry, honey. I' ll have security escort her out." Sarah didn' t move, a small, bitter smile touching her lips. The wedding planner called Chloe' s name. It was time. Chloe gave Sarah one last, withering glare, then stopped. A flicker of doubt, of pure, cold fear, crossed her face. But the music was starting. Her future awaited. Chloe turned her back on Sarah, on the truth, and walked away to become Mrs. Mark Johnson. As Chloe walked down the aisle, a wave of memory hit me. Our cheap wine, designing her wedding dress on a napkin. Her laughter filling our small apartment. Now, she was a stranger in a dress I didn' t recognize, walking toward a man I despised. Sarah stood alone, a solitary figure of grief. "I' m the one who introduced them, you know," she murmured. "I' m so sorry, Ethan." The ceremony reached its peak. "Do you, Chloe Davis, take Mark Johnson…" Sarah turned to leave. "Wait." Chloe' s voice, quiet but clear. The officiant paused. Mark turned, confused. Guests murmured. Chloe wasn' t looking at Mark. She was looking at Sarah' s retreating figure. "Sarah, wait," she called again, voice stronger. Sarah stopped. Chloe took a shaky breath. She turned to Mark, pale. "Mark, I… I' m sorry. I have to… there' s something I have to do. I have to know." "Chloe, what are you talking about?" Mark hissed, grabbing her arm. "The whole world is watching." She pulled her arm away powerfully. "I don' t care. I have to know if she' s telling the truth." She lifted her gown and started running down the aisle, away from the altar, away from Mark. She was leaving her own wedding. She was going to my funeral. I watched her go, a storm of confusion. Mark' s face was a thundercloud of fury. The perfect day shattered. The cemetery was quiet, a stark contrast. A small group around freshly turned earth. My parents, a few friends, cousins. Then, a second figure appeared. A woman in a brilliant white wedding dress, now stained. Chloe. Her arrival sent a shockwave. My father' s sadness hardened. "What is she doing here?" he growled. My cousin, David, took a step. "You have no right to be here! Get out!" Chloe didn' t seem to hear them. Her eyes were fixed on the simple, polished granite headstone. Ethan Miller. Beloved Son and Friend. 1995 - 2023. When she read the words, a dry, choked gasp escaped her. She reached out a trembling hand, tracing my name. The cold, hard reality finally broke through her denial. She fell to her knees, a raw, animalistic cry escaping her throat. It was the sound of a world breaking apart. I watched, stunned. This was not the reaction of a woman who never truly loved me. My mother shrieked, pointing. "You! This is your fault! You did this to him! You broke his heart and you killed him!" "Helen, stop," my father said, but his eyes burned cold. "Leave. If you' re just here to make a scene, to show off your wedding dress at my son' s grave, then you can leave." Chloe didn' t respond. She was on her hands and knees, clawing at the dirt, trying to dig me up. "No," she sobbed. "No, it' s not real. Ethan! It' s not real!" Sarah rushed forward, grabbing Chloe' s arms. "Chloe, stop it! Stop! You' re making it worse!" "Let go of me!" Chloe screamed. "He can' t be gone! He can' t!" Another car screeched to a halt. Mark Johnson stormed up the hill, face purple with rage. "Chloe! What the hell are you doing?" he yelled, shoving Sarah. "Get your hands off my fiancée!" He tried to pull Chloe up, but she fought him off. "He' s gone, Mark!" she wailed. "Ethan' s gone!" Mark looked from her hysterical face to my grave, then to my angry family. "This is insane," he spat, pointing at Sarah. "This is your fault! You filled her head with this nonsense and dragged her here!" David stepped up to Mark, fists clenched. "She came on her own. And you need to back off. You' re not welcome here." "I' ll go where my fiancée goes," Mark sneered. My father, a man I' d never seen lose his temper, walked up to Mark. "She is not your fiancée here. Here, she is the woman who destroyed my son. Now get off this sacred ground before I have you removed." The air was thick with hate. My quiet funeral had become a battlefield. Chloe stood amidst the shouting, pale and streaked with tears and dirt, clutching a piece of her wedding dress. Mark tried to pull her away. "Chloe, let' s go. We can fix this. We' ll go on our honeymoon, forget any of this ever happened." She shook her head, pulling her arm from his grasp. "No," she whispered, a new, terrible finality in the small word. Sarah stepped between them, deeply exhausted. "You should go, Chloe. He wouldn' t have wanted this. He wouldn' t have wanted to see you like this." The words finally reached Chloe. She looked at my grave one last time, body shaking with a suppressed sob. Without another word, she turned and walked away, a ghost in a ruined wedding dress. As I watched her disappear, a sense of peace settled over me. It was over. The storm had passed. The truth, in its brutal way, was out. I felt the ties that bound me to her, to the pain and the love, finally loosen. I was free. In the weeks that followed, life, for the living, began to move on. My parents, heartbroken but practical, offered my game studio to Sarah. "We want you to have it, Sarah," my father said, voice thick with emotion. "It was Ethan' s dream. You were a part of that dream. We want you to carry it on." Sarah initially refused. "I can' t. It wouldn' t be right." "He would have wanted you to have it," my mother insisted. "Please." Sarah looked around the studio, at the concept art, my empty chair. She finally nodded, tears filling her eyes. "Okay. For Ethan. I' ll do it." A new fire lit in her. She threw herself into the work, determined to make my last game, "Chloe' s Star," a success. One night, looking for a file, she found a 'Personal' folder. Videos. Candid clips I' d taken. Me and her, years ago, laughing at an arcade. Us pulling an all-nighter in college, arguing playfully. Dozens of them. A hidden library of our friendship. "You saved all these?" she whispered to the empty room, a sad smile. "You nerd." Her phone rang, jarring her. The cemetery caretaker. "Ms. Clark? I' m sorry to bother you so late. But you need to come down. There' s been a problem at Mr. Miller' s grave. It looks like someone tried to… dig it up." Sarah' s car tore through the night, headlights cutting through darkness. Her knuckles white, face a mask of cold fury. At the cemetery, under harsh security lights, the scene was worse than imagined. My grave was torn up. A shovel discarded. And standing there, in the middle of the mess, were two figures: Chloe and Mark. Chloe looked lost, eyes vacant, clothes disheveled. Mark held a second, smaller shovel, his suit rumpled. "What in God' s name do you think you' re doing?" Sarah' s voice was a low growl. Mark had the audacity to look indignant. "We' re paying our respects! Chloe wanted his ashes. We were going to move them to a proper family mausoleum. A place of honor." "A place of honor?" Sarah laughed, harsh and bitter. "You mean a place where you could control his last remains? You think there' s some inheritance, don' t you? You think this struggling game developer was secretly a millionaire, and you want to get your hands on it." Her furious gaze turned to Chloe. "And you. I almost felt sorry for you. I almost thought you understood. But this? To do this with him? How could you?" Chloe shook her head, muttering, "I had to… I had to have him near me." That was the last straw for Sarah' s promise. "You want to know about honor, Chloe?" Sarah' s voice trembled with rage. "You want to know about the man you threw away? Let me tell you about him." She stepped closer. "Two years ago, your father' s company was about to collapse. A mysterious benefactor paid off all his debts. Anonymously. Do you know who that was, Chloe?" Chloe just stared, confused. "It was Ethan," Sarah said, words landing like hammer blows. "He sold everything his grandparents left him. Every last cent. That was the 'failed investment' he told you about. He chose to look like a failure in your eyes rather than let you see your family' s shame. That' s the money you accused him of wasting. That' s the man you said was holding you back." Color drained from Chloe' s face. Vacant eyes replaced by dawning, soul-crushing horror. "No," she whispered. "No, that' s not true." "It is true," Sarah said, relentless. "And you want to know about the man you chose instead?" She pulled out her phone. "I did some digging after the funeral, Mark. You' re not as careful as you think you are." She turned the screen to Chloe. Photos. Mark, kissing another woman. Screenshots of damning texts from before the wedding. Chloe looked from the phone to Mark. The final piece of her shattered world crumbled. "You…" she whispered, a strangled gasp. She launched herself at him, grief and rage finding a target. She beat at his chest, screaming. Mark, shocked, shoved her hard. "Get off me, you crazy bitch!" Chloe stumbled backward, her heel catching on the disturbed earth around my grave. She fell, her head hitting the corner of my granite headstone with a sickening, final crack. She lay still. A dark pool spread from her head. Mark stared, panicked. Sarah screamed. In the ensuing chaos of sirens and flashing lights, I felt my purpose fade. The truth was out. My legacy safe with Sarah. My name cleared. As they covered Chloe' s body, just as they had covered mine, I felt a lightness. The pain, love, betrayal-all dissolved into the cool night air. My game, "Chloe' s Star," released by Sarah, became a global sensation. My name, a symbol of a legacy that triumphed in death. And me? I was finally at peace. I turned from the living, from the wreckage, and faded into the quiet, starlit darkness./0/86808/coverorgin.jpg?v=125bceccf5593f8b5f86c2021345fb5b&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Wife He Betrayed, Now Free
The heavy prison gates clanged shut behind me. After five years of hell, I, Ava Smith, was finally free. My first stop, however, wasn' t a warm bed, but the county clerk' s office. I needed a divorce from Liam Johnson. The clerk' s words hit me like a physical blow: "There's no record of a marriage between Ava Smith and Liam Johnson. This is a fake, honey." My entire marriage was a lie. Memories flashed back-Liam, the grieving businessman, conceiving our son Ethan in a drunken haze, calling me his deceased first love. His powerful family forced him to marry me, but on our wedding night, his words were cold: "I will never love you, Ava." I played the perfect wife, loving our son with every fiber of my being. Then, I was framed for destroying a memorial garden. Liam believed every lie, his eyes full of disgust, and sent me to prison. For five years, the thought of Ethan was all that kept me alive. My son, the same one who now screamed at me, "Mom! What did she do to you?" as he ran to my best friend, Scarlett Hayes-the woman who was supposed to be dead, now living in my home and raising my child. "She's more of a mother to him than you ever were," Liam said, shielding them both from me. The agony was unbearable. How could he believe her? How could my son, the child I carried and loved, hate me so fiercely? It was a betrayal beyond words. I picked up my phone, dialing a number I hadn't used in years. "I'm not interested in my 'marriage' anymore. Or my son." The lie tasted like acid. "The children in the mountains," I said, my voice gaining strength, "they'll be my new family now."/0/38469/coverorgin.jpg?v=7c6fc50bedca7f35917317bd10ecb430&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Falling for Mr Billionaire.
Two best friend, one is a billionaire and the other just a mere middle class man,decided to let their children tied together even though they were still so young not knowing anything .After the marriage,they decided that they will let them be together when they reach their college level and let them be together.... _______________________ Erica Day,she is 18years old. She is the daughter of the middle class man among the two best friend. She is an innocent,kind hearted and sweet girl,one of her weak point is that she trust people easily. She is mentally and physical abused by her own society people. She was always home school from the day she was in primary till her high school life....She is not allowed to step outside of the house because the people are always ready to attack her.... Richard Winkleman ,he is 21years old,he is the son of the billionaire .He is rude, cool hearted and do whatever he pleases never care for others feeling .He is a party boy and likes to hang out with his rich mates all night.... But when Erica and Richard meet will they be able to stay with each other and help each other or will they be separated and their parents expectations towards then with all go in drain...??? ************/0/32368/coverorgin.jpg?v=8c777475a3845ee70cf873388771ab0f&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Lethal Obsession
DARK ROMANCE "Sir, I am in a dire need of loan. Its very important, my friends life is at stake. I assure you I'll try my best to return the loan asap." She breathlessly said it all. Her eyes were filled with hope and expectations. He was her last hope. "Miss Sheharzaad," Shehryaar said, while standing up from his chair causing her to instantly stand up. "Yes sir" she replied, her voice troublesome yet confident. He walked towards the other side of the table and sat on the chair parallel to her. "Keep sitting, please." He said, like a gentleman and she sat down. She tightly held her hands together. A life could be saved by his single yes. "Sir please," she pleaded. "I agree. You can have the loan, but I have a condition." "I agree to your every condition sir" she replied with a little smile of victory on her face. "Think before you speak, Miss Sheharzaad." "I trust you." "I want a one night stand with you." He dropped the bomb. ............ "Every women is nothing but a whore, a slut and you're also one of them." He said making her wriggling double against the ropes, which tied her. "You're wrong." She replied with a sheer determination in her eyes. He harshly gripped held her chin and bobbed her head up towards him. "Oh, I'll prove it to you then." He spoke with an immense intensity and a promise in his eyes. "You'll now serve me as my personal escort, Sheharzaad." He declared and threaded his fingers into her silky locks, pasting his lips on hers, kissing her brutally. He didn't trust womankind and she was a strong woman. He wanted shatter and break her into pieces so he could satisfy himself./0/37374/coverorgin.jpg?v=98a12b67d0bdb761068bf3de9b463050&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Hiding the Billionaire Mafia's Twin.
In the alluring world of Sicilian high society, Fiorella's life takes a dramatic turn after a fateful night with Tito Denero, the enigmatic billionaire with ties to the mafia. Despite being engaged to childhood sweetheart Dante Mancini, Fiorella finds herself pregnant with Tito's twins, leading to a tangled web of secrets and betrayal. Years later, Fiorella is consumed by a singular desire for revenge against Tito, blaming him for her father's death. Little does she know, Tito is not only the man she seeks vengeance upon but also the father of her children. As fate intertwines their paths once more, Fiorella must confront her feelings for both Tito and Dante amidst simmering tensions and unresolved passions. love, betrayal, and redemption, Fiorella grapples with decisions that could shatter hearts and alter destinies. Will she succumb to the lure of revenge, or will she find the courage to forgive and embrace a future fraught with unexpected twists? Dive into a world where passion collides with duty, and where the past holds the key to a turbulent yet captivating future./0/42380/coverorgin.jpg?v=5cdb4ae67e85d3fc4775cf53d526d20b&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Heal Me
Luisa is a doctor full of pain and trauma accumulated from a troubled past, a mother who "loses" her daughter with Down syndrome that was so planned and at the same time rejected by her own grandmother; Christopher, a doctor-surgeon and son of one of the owners of the ClinBustamante Imperial Hospital, both with pains from a past for completely different reasons, unknowingly seek the healing of their anguish, a suffering of their "losses" are installed and little do they know that maybe one is the cure for the other A simple meeting years later, will become calming, it is just like a medicine does, bringing healing for the pains. Will they both be able to find the cure for so much torment?/0/25172/coverorgin.jpg?v=2a3a3be6f2eb0087d5f9e9c8a275d80c&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Escape from Priceless CEO
She was betrayed by her sister and boyfriend and then had a brief fling with a man. However, she didn't see his face clearly and only heard someone call him "young master". Later, she got 1 million dollars as the compensation. Six years later, she received an interview from the King Group. But she found the boss.../0/49107/coverorgin.jpg?v=38390bab4e62d62bdbed1f742280af76&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Mr. Bodyguard, It's Hard To Love You
For years, Erin has grappled with guilt since her high school classmate passed away. Under the influence of the friends she trusted, Daryl was challenged, resulting in his tragic demise. Seven years later, Erin did not expect that fate would punish her further. In her stepfather's will, he decided that all their wealth would go to the Arvesso family, the same family that had lost a member before. Erin now found herself caught up in this arrangement. Perhaps that was her punishment-to be the wife of Orion, someone who harbored intense resentment towards her. She believed he would let go of the past once they were married. However, it turned out that before becoming her husband, he had played the role of a protective brother. He agreed to the marriage to torment her./0/85244/coverorgin.jpg?v=2afb8e45f1a67abd53929ad9db42868e&imageMogr2/format/webp)
His Death Day, Her Wedding Day
The phone felt heavy in my hand, a cold, dead weight. It had been a year since I last heard her voice, a year of silence that felt like a lifetime. My doctor' s words echoed in my head: "Glioblastoma, stage four. I' m sorry, Ethan. We' re talking months, maybe less." I called her, my thumb hovering over the button. "Happy wedding day," I said, pushing the words out. "And the second thing… you once promised that you' d carry my coffin after I die." The line went dead. A week after that promise, Olivia had left me. "I never loved you, Ethan," she had said, her face a mask of indifference. Her words broke me more than the illness ever could. That' s why I was in Zurich, in a sterile room, scheduled to end my life tomorrow. But then I saw her, by the lake, skipping stones, just like we used to. As I took a step towards her, a man came up, wrapping his arm around her waist. Liam Stone. "Olivia' s fiancé," he said, extending a hand. "We' re actually getting married tomorrow." My death day would be her wedding day. The universe had a sick sense of humor. I fled, only to stumble into the path of an oncoming tram. Olivia saved me, pulling me back. But as she pulled me up, her sleeve rode up, and I saw it: a silver bracelet, engraved with "L.S." She had been with him while we were still together. My life, my love, my everything, was a lie. "I' m dying," I told her, hoarse. "I have a brain tumor." Her facade cracked. Then, she asked me for a favor. "I need you to take the photos, Ethan. Just for the ceremony." I agreed, on one condition: "I want a photo. Just one. Of you and me. Together." She agreed, then immediately abandoned me for Liam. At the wedding, she used my origami stars, our special date on her new wedding ring. "It never meant anything, Ethan," she said, her eyes cold. "It was never real." I was numb. I left, heading back to the clinic, my fate sealed. Then, a text from Liam: We could use an extra hand with some last-minute wedding preparations. He was trying to buy my compliance, to turn my final day into a transaction. Fine, I replied. I didn' t know why I agreed. Maybe I needed to burn the image of her happiness into my brain so I could finally let go./0/50515/coverorgin.jpg?v=57f8b0d0701db861812a249e6ef5fde8&imageMogr2/format/webp)
FROM LOATHING TO LOVE
Silvia Winfold and Antonio Parker's love for each other became the building block of their family's long-time unending rage and hatred for each other. Silvia was ready to defile her family for the boy he loved, A decision that would cost them a lot since the horrific past experiences between their family were unfixable. Anthonio had always wanted to know the mystery behind his father's death since his mom had always shunned any word about his father's identity with a make-to-believe story that he had died after his conception while she also tried to hide her real identity as a notorious gangster from her son. With the pain The winfold had inflicted on Monalisa Parker in the past there was no way she would ever want anything to do with her except for cooperation for vengeful Revenge on Bruno Joe, Antonio's father who must remain dead for hurting her. Will Sylvia and Antonio be able to pull through the consequences and damnation that must accompany their love?/0/84149/coverorgin.jpg?v=657d7d3e19563cc94bb14bb2aca4c3ef&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Framed by Memory
The first thing I remember is the blood. My fiancée, Jocelyn, stood in the doorway, her face a mask of horror. Our perfect future shattered when I was found standing over her parents' bodies, my father's blood-soaked guitar in my hands. The police came, and I didn't resist, silenced by a terrible promise. The media branded me the "Guitar Slinger Killer," and the world condemned me. But the deepest cut came when Jocelyn, the woman who saved me, joined the prosecution, vowing to make me pay. How could she believe I was a monster? How could I explain that I was sacrificing everything, including her love, for a promise I never asked for? My silence was my only shield, a burden of pain and untold truth. Now, a "Neural-Narrative" machine will force my memories to the surface, and everyone will see. But who will they choose to believe when the "truth" is revealed?/0/39721/coverorgin.jpg?v=a97b15b40704174b8a3a1e0fc082a1ca&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Heartless CEO Wants Me
My name is Evelyn White. I'm 20 now. I Always believed my grandma's words. There is always good in everyone's heart no matter how cruel that person is. But ever since I meet him, I don't know if I can still believe what I believe. I cursed as well as blessed the day I met him. He is the devil who made my life hell. He took everything for me. He made me his sex slave. He made me no longer have my body and my heart because they already belonged to him./0/86965/coverorgin.jpg?v=7a855a00e28f39698d16c841b7bc2792&imageMogr2/format/webp)
His Pain, Her Penance
The wedding planner' s voice on the phone was professional, confirming the groom had been changed to Noah Reed. My fiancée, Chloe, thought it was a surprise party. A surprise it was. I had found a marriage certificate in her drawer: Chloe Davis and Noah Reed, married for three months. Tucked behind it was an ultrasound report: twins. Not mine. For years, Chloe was my everything, my light. She saved me from darkness, taught me to trust, to love. But now, she and her family, whom I trusted implicitly, had orchestrated a grand deception, making a mockery of my love and devotion. I was the fool in a play where everyone else knew the script. They even knew about the babies, pretending they were mine. I felt nothing. A vast, empty space had opened up inside me where my heart used to be. The pain was so deep it had turned into a strange, detached calm. They couldn't hurt me anymore. I was already dead inside. I walked away from the past, leaving everything behind, never looking back. But not before orchestrating a wedding day reveal that would expose their betrayal and shatter Chloe's carefully constructed world./0/40034/coverorgin.jpg?v=819496d886aac2edbc838cb7902095cf&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Walking To The Target
Since adolescence, Valeria has always had a different and mature mind, always helping her beloved father, taking care of her sick and depressing mother, watching her and trying to be the opposite of her. She had a normal youth, even after her mother's suicide, hanging out with her friends, respecting her father and getting to know boys, until she fell in love with one and gave herself to him, in a relationship that wasn't perfect, but pleasant and pleasurable. Her marriage marked a new phase in her life, where together they loved each other and fought to change the future and have a comfortable and successful life. And things were working out, the fruits were harvested with joy, until Valeria's father died and she kept herself within herself, developing several personalities and defenses that made her love her life and her family in moments and hate her the next. to all. But on a beautiful Friday night, in one of these outbreaks, Valeria stops taking medication and goes to meet her friends, starting to realize that there was still life in her and starting to fight to regain in herself the right to have dominion over her acts and their hearts, fighting themselves and the illusions to be with their family./0/92284/coverorgin.jpg?v=7f0d76cf44c075835d18f9bfe2293d47&imageMogr2/format/webp)
