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Romance Books for Women

Bestsellers Ongoing Completed
From Lost Puppy to Lioness

From Lost Puppy to Lioness

I left my old-money New England family, who thought my last name opened every door, to find something real. I found it in a new city, working a simple coffee shop job, and falling head-over-heels for a struggling musician named Ethan. He sang me love songs, and I poured my whole heart into him, convinced he was my escape, my true home. Then one night, at a crowded warehouse party, I overheard him. "The Aston Martin DB5 is practically mine," he laughed to his friends. "Did she really fall for the struggling musician bit? So naive it hurt." My world shattered. This "Ethan" was Ace Sterling, heir to a tech fortune, and I was just a bet, a "lost puppy" to him. My family, who had warned me, hung up when I called, leaving me utterly alone. Fired from my job, facing eviction, I even slept on a park bench, actively sabotaged by a smug cousin. Every door slammed shut, my life spiraling out of control. The humiliation was a burning sickness, but a cold anger started to replace the pain. He hadn't even flinched when I threw the vintage guitar pick – something I' d saved for weeks to buy for his dreams – at his face. He just watched me break. Years later, he found me serving drinks at a high-society gala, and condescendingly offered me a "discreet arrangement" to make me "comfortable" again. He thought I was still that broken girl, easy to buy and silence. He had no idea what he had just started. That night, Ava Monroe, the naive girl, vanished. Because a new Ava, one forged from the ashes of betrayal and humiliation, was about to rise, and she was coming for him.
More Than Ashes

More Than Ashes

The smell of smoke woke me up, a thick, acrid scent clinging to my throat. My heart pounded as sirens pierced the night, a chilling prelude. Three missed calls from Marco, my dad's sous chef. "It' s the restaurant. It' s… there was a fire." I ran, the air growing thick with the smell of burning wood and something chemical, something awful. My world shattered when I saw it: the hollowed-out shell of "The Amber Hearth," my parents' restaurant, my entire life, consumed by flames. A police officer stopped me, but I could only stare at the wreckage, the place my parents worked, lived, and breathed. Weeks later, I was living with Chloe, my food critic girlfriend, in her pristine, minimalist apartment. She supported me, made calls, held me when nightmares struck. "We'll get through this together," she promised. But that promise felt hollow when the simple click-click-whoosh of a gas stove sent me stumbling in terror, and she quickly turned it off, her embrace distant even as she whispered, "I'll be here for you." The cracks widened when she abandoned our quiet anniversary dinner, again, for Daniel, her 'anxiety-ridden' former mentor. "He needs me, Liam," she'd always say, framing his alleged illness as a virtue, my need for her as a selfish demand. I watched her move, efficient and precise, realizing I was just an obligation, a managed crisis she was bored with. Then, a text from my friend: Chloe's rave review of Daniel's new menu just dropped, a "Triumph of a Troubled Genius." The publication date? Last night. Our anniversary. She wasn' t working; she was dining with him, relaunching his career. The anger burned clean and hot; her entire compassionate façade was a calculated deception. When she walked in, I confronted her, the ugly truth filling her perfectly curated apartment: she chose him, lied to me, used my grief as cover. Her icy response, "If that's how you feel, then maybe you should leave," was all I needed. I left. Days later, I saw him letting himself into her apartment, confirming the sickening truth: I was just a convenient cover for their secret affair, a grieving fool in their shared territory. I had defended her, pushed away friends who tried to warn me, all for a lie. My anger, humiliation, and shame fused into a chilling resolve. I wasn't just heartbroken; I was done. This wasn't a relationship; it was a fraud. And now, armed with the brutal truth, I had to build something new, far from her memory.
The Unwanted Wife's Ultimatum

The Unwanted Wife's Ultimatum

I was seven months pregnant, a text from my distant husband, Ethan, promised a New Year's Eve "surprise." I desperately hoped it was a chance to mend our fraying marriage before the baby. But stepping into the upscale lounge, the "surprise" became my worst nightmare. Ethan was intimately draped around his executive assistant, Lily Vance, who was brazenly wearing my designer gown. His friends snickered, their amusement signaling my reaction was the only surprise. When confronted, Ethan showed no remorse, just cold annoyance. Lily gloated that my dress looked better on her. Then Ethan cruelly dismissed me, claiming I couldn't satisfy him, calling me "not exactly arousing." Lily sneered he needed "a real woman, not a... vessel." Overcome, I vomited, splattering her stolen dress. She shoved me, I fell, hitting a table, and my water broke. "The baby!" I gasped, but Lily convinced Ethan I was faking. He dragged me to a VIP restroom, locked me inside, dismissing my pleas for help as "drama." Alone, trapped, in agonizing labor, my phone lost, I heard their indifferent laughter, their intimacy, through the door. Hours later, strangers found me, covered in blood, barely breathing. I woke in a hospital, heart-shattering truth: my baby girl was stillborn. And Ethan, the man who'd built an empire with me, had blocked the hospital's desperate calls about our child. His utter callousness, his active neglect in our daughter's death, burned away every last shred of loyalty. He would not, could not, get away with this. In that sterile room, a cold, pure resolve ignited: he would pay for everything.
The Altruistic Bride of the CEO

The Altruistic Bride of the CEO

Asher Rodriguez is a reputed businessman and a billionaire who owns varieties of clubs and casinos in the city and is a cotton textile mogul. He is hot, virile, and manly with a six pack body. Girls swoon on his perfect physique but living a failed marriage and a father of a two year old daughter, Asher had lost interest in life. He had turned cold, unemotional and an insensitive boss who had no human values. But when he enters an unrespected wedlock with an innocent young girl almost half of his age everything changes in his life. ***** Phoenix Beatriz yearns for a dream of a loving and sincere life partner with a good home. As if her life was less troublesome, her drunkard father pawns her in marriage to a wealthy billionaire who is double her age. Chained with duties and commitments that she couldn't necessarily control, Phoenix's life was a tragedy in every respect. She was abused and ill treated by her step-mother and uncaring father accompanied with a lonely childhood. But is that all? There is a ray of light in every dark room. ***** Since Asher saw her, he's been denying his feelings for her, ignoring the void in his heart he knows only she could fill. Everything about them was wrong, the kind of wrong that felt so right. It was supposed to be only a business deal. Yet a deal he did not know that would make his life only more complicated than just twelve months to sort it out until nothing mattered to him in the world than her for whom he could even give away his life.
Betrayal's Sting: A Husband's Reckoning

Betrayal's Sting: A Husband's Reckoning

Tonight was supposed to be special. Our fifth anniversary. I' d booked our favorite restaurant, bought a new shirt Chloe loved. Then, scrolling through social media, a photo from her company' s group chat caught my eye. Chloe, laughing, her hand resting on the arm of her intern, Liam. The caption called it "burning the midnight oil." I called it a lie. I typed a reply, directly into the chat: "Looks like fun. Chloe, I\'m still waiting for our anniversary dinner. The reservation was for seven." My phone rang instantly. It was Chloe, her voice a furious hiss. "What the hell do you think you\'re doing? Are you trying to embarrass me?" "Embarrass you?" I retorted, her dismissive tone burning me. "I' m sitting here alone on our anniversary. You told me you were stuck in a meeting." She called me needy, childish, then hung up. All my sacrifices, my life savings poured into her startup, the sleepless nights coding her company' s foundation – for this? To be a ghost in her shiny, successful life? The truth was laid bare: I was just an afterthought. I looked at our wedding photo, so full of hope, then slowly, deliberately, turned it face down. Then I blocked her. The next morning, her company's lead engineer called, panicking. "It's the Genesis build. It's a complete disaster. Liam broke it." Chloe had brushed off my warnings about Liam's sloppy code. She called him a rockstar. Now, she needed me to fix her golden boy' s mess. She sent her assistant to drag me to the office. Then Chloe herself called from the assistant's phone. "Ethan Miller, you get down here right now!" She tried to smooth-talk me, sweet-talking about "us." And then I heard it. A soft, wet sound, a kiss. And Liam' s voice. "Is he giving you trouble, boss? Let me talk to him." Chloe' s hushed, affectionate whisper: "It's fine, sweetie. I've got this." My world stopped. "Sweetie?" I repeated, the word dripping with mock sweetness. "Is that what you call your interns now, Chloe?" The betrayal, concrete and undeniable, sliced through me. All that anger, all that pain, crystallized into one chilling realization: "You don't need me. You need my work. There's a difference." "Consider your contract terminated," she threatened. "Consider it terminated," I replied, and hung up. I finally felt nothing. Just a vast, empty space where five years of my life used to be. I was done.
The Woman Who Sold His Empire

The Woman Who Sold His Empire

Ava Miller lived a dream life, running a successful interior design firm, and happily married to her college sweetheart, tech CEO Ethan Hayes. Their bond felt unbreakable, solidified by years of shared history and Ethan's fierce vow never to cheat, a promise backed by a prenup securing 70% of his assets for Ava if he ever strayed. But a creeping shadow emerged: Chloe Vance, a former intern, obsessed with Ethan, staging public scenes and faking crises. Ava dismissed her as a nuisance, always trusting Ethan to handle such issues firmly. On their third anniversary, Ava surprised Ethan at his gleaming office tower, a small gift in hand, wishing for a rare spontaneous moment. She pushed open the door to his private office and found Chloe there, half-dressed in Ethan's silk shirt, suggestively caressing his cherished Montblanc pen-Ava's gift to him. Ethan walked in, stopping dead, his eyes wide with guilt, looking first at Chloe, then at Ava. He stammered, then shockingly asked Ava to "handle" Chloe, to "get her dressed," claiming she was "in a fragile state." Ava was stunned; this was entirely unlike the man who once had security remove Chloe instantly. Later that evening, she watched him carefully clean and pocket the very Montblanc pen Chloe had just defiled. That was it. The pen, his treasure, now tainted, yet still cherished above all. A cold, hard clarity replaced her shock and pain. The next morning, Ava walked to their safe deposit box and retrieved the prenuptial agreement. Then she picked up her phone and called Liam Walker, Ethan's biggest business rival.