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Romance Books for Women

Bestsellers Ongoing Completed
That Freezing Night, My Love Died

That Freezing Night, My Love Died

For years, I was two men: Ethan Miller, the indispensable executive assistant to Victoria "Tori" Sterling, and Ethan Miller, her secret lover, foolishly hoping she would choose me. I ran her demanding empire, anticipated her every need, and cherished every stolen moment, believing it would lead to a shared future. Then, she announced her engagement to Chase Albright, a manipulative con artist, shattering my world. Her casual indifference to my pain was the first shocking blow. As Chase systematically humiliated me—from public shaming to physical assaults—Tori actively enabled his cruelty, prioritizing her new obsession. The ultimate betrayal came after a devastating car crash, when, severely injured, I heard her scream, "Save Chase first! He’s more important!" followed by her chilling dismissal, "You're just a secretary, after all." I endured, clinging to a dying hope, until Chase, explicitly condoned by Tori, forced me to stand shivering for hours in the biting cold, fresh out of the hospital. In that freezing moment, battered and utterly broken, I saw not a woman I loved, but a callous stranger who had systematically used and dehumanized me. How could she so readily abandon the man who gave her everything, then witness my suffering and dismiss it as insignificant? My years of devotion died a swift, brutal death, replaced by a cold, unwavering resolve to reclaim my life. I walked away from Sterling Capital, from New York, and from Victoria Sterling, determined to finally claim the freedom and new beginning I deserved in Denver. But Tori, left with Chase and the ruin of her empire, would now confront the true cost of the love she had carelessly destroyed—a love that, for me, was irrevocably gone.
My North Star Rising

My North Star Rising

My dream of studying at Le Cordon Bleu in Paris was finally within reach, a Golden Whisk nomination sparkling on my laptop screen. My life as a rising pastry chef was just beginning. And then, my phone buzzed. It was Ethan, my charming boyfriend, the heir to the prestigious Vance Family Vineyard. His voice was wrecked, thin and cracking as he pleaded, "Mia, we're going to lose everything. The vineyard is gone. I'm ruined." My heart squeezed, imagining his family's legacy in Napa Valley crumbling. Without a second thought, I clicked off my scholarship application. "I'm coming, Ethan," I promised, "On the next flight to California." For three years, I buried my pastry dreams under layers of grease and exhaustion, flipping burgers at Dusty' s Diner, a greasy spoon in a dusty Central Valley town. Every spare cent went into a battered shoebox, saving fifty thousand dollars to save his "family legacy." Ethan constantly complained about our "dump" rental and the "disgusting" food, but I ignored him, focused on our goal. My sacrifice was complete when I finally deposited the last bundle of cash in the bank. But then, I heard it: a news segment blaring about "dynamic young investor Ethan Vance" and his thriving Napa winery, his acquisition of a tech startup, and even his personal interest in "the popular Dusty's Diner." My blood ran cold, but the final blow came from Ethan's unwitting pocket-dial. "The full fifty K," his smug voice chuckled. "That diner girl? Still slaving away for me. Bless her little cotton socks. Enough for the down payment on that new Porsche 911. And Brittany will love that little diamond thing I saw." Not for a vineyard. Not for us. For a car. For another woman. My breath hitched, the world tilted. Every word, every sacrifice, every hopeful dream of a shared future shattered into a million pieces. The humiliation was a physical ache. As he walked into the diner, feigning concern, I didn't cry. Instead, I calmly pulled out my checkbook. It was time for him to pay for his lies.
The Charity Case's Crown

The Charity Case's Crown

The whiskey glasses clinked, and the air hung thick with cigar smoke at Ethan' s bachelor party. I was just bringing in another round, playing the supportive girlfriend I' d always been for the man I loved since high school. Then I heard my name. "Anya? She' s an artist. No family, no connections. Marrying her would be a liability for the firm." He laughed. "Besides, after all these years, who else would want her? She' s practically a charity case my family took in. She' s not going anywhere." The crystal tray in my hands shattered on the marble floor, but no one bothered to look up from their celebratory drinks and laughter. He even had the audacity to crawl into my bed that night, reeking of alcohol, whispering about keeping me as his "secret girl" after he married his fiancée. Marry his fiancée, Chloe, for a business merger to save his family. Then he actually asked me to be his mistress, offering me a life of comfort as if that erased the disrespect. "Ungrateful," he spat, calling me "an orphan with nothing" when I refused. My heart shattered, then hardened. How could I have been so blind, so stupid, to trade everything for someone who saw me as a pet, a liability, a charity case? The next day, as I stood by the bench where we' d carved our initials, I saw him and Chloe, his new initials gouged over mine. My love, my future, my very identity… all erased by him. But on that very day, receiving a call from a billionaire I' d once shown a small kindness to, I turned away from the Hamilton mansion for good. It was time to show them what this "charity case" could become.