icon 0
icon TOP UP
rightIcon
icon Reading History
rightIcon
icon Sign out
rightIcon
icon Get the APP
rightIcon
closeIcon

Claim Your Bonus at the APP

Open

Romance Books for Women

Bestsellers Ongoing Completed
Reborn To Ruin My Billionaire Husband

Reborn To Ruin My Billionaire Husband

I died on the cold delivery table, bleeding out while the heart monitor flatlined. Through the blinding surgical lights, I heard my husband Damon's cold, final order to the doctors. "The child is the priority." He didn't care about my life. To him, I was just a vessel to produce an heir, a tool to fulfill his prenuptial clause and secure his billionaire empire. While I took my last agonizing breath, he was already planning his future with his fragile, theatrical mistress, Jasmin. In my past life, when he first brought her into our home claiming she was a helpless victim, I shattered. I screamed, threw vases, and played the hysterical wife perfectly. My desperate pleas for his affection only gave him the exact weapons he needed to ruin my reputation, isolate me, and ultimately force me onto that fatal delivery bed. Until my very last moment, the suffocating pain in my chest wasn't just physical. I couldn't understand how the man I loved could treat my death like a simple business transaction. Why was my absolute devotion rewarded with a carefully calculated execution? But then, my eyes snapped open. I was sitting on the edge of my king-sized bed, exactly three years before my death. From downstairs, I heard Damon's voice echoing in the foyer, bringing Jasmin into our home for the very first time. This time, the scream building in my chest turned to ice. I didn't cry or throw a fit. Instead, I calmly swallowed a secret birth control pill, smiled at his mistress, and dialed the most ruthless divorce lawyer in Manhattan.
Buried Alive With My Fake Husband

Buried Alive With My Fake Husband

I woke up in total darkness, the air smelling of stale chemicals and dying flowers. When I tried to sit up, my forehead slammed into solid wood just three inches from my face. I was trapped in a coffin, buried alive next to the cold, stiff body of my fake husband, Cedric. My stepmother, Hermina, had poisoned our champagne at the gala to seize my trust fund, and now she was hosting a lavish memorial service for us right outside the lid. I found a faint, erratic pulse in Cedric's neck, but I couldn't just scream for help. If Hermina realized the dose wasn't lethal, she'd finish the job with a lethal injection under the guise of medical assistance. To survive, I bit my tongue until I tasted blood and tore my hair into a tangled mess. When I finally kicked the lid open and spilled onto the marble floor, I didn't act like a rescued heiress; I crawled like a broken doll, shrieking about poisoned bubbles and "the bad man" while Manhattan's elite watched in absolute horror. The betrayal was suffocating. My own family watched as Hermina tried to sedate me back into silence, playing the role of a grieving saint while her eyes remained cold as ice. Even more shocking was Cedric, who rose from the casket like a predator, commanding the room with a terrifying authority that proved our entire marriage had been a lie. I couldn't understand how many secrets were buried in that house, or why my "boring" husband was suddenly acting like a man who owned the city. After kneeing Cedric in the stomach to break his iron grip, I bolted out into the torrential rain. I didn't care that I was barefoot or that the world thought I was insane. I had the key to my father's secret safe in my hand, and I was going to make sure Hermina paid for every second of darkness she forced me to endure.
Underneath the Billionaire's Crimson Veil

Underneath the Billionaire's Crimson Veil

Billionaire's Crimson Veil ✨ Underneath the Billionaire's Crimson veil ✨ A woman born with power, cloaked in wealth, and twice widowed before thirty, yet her heart remained hidden behind crimson veils. In the opulent city of Zafirah, Khadija Al-Hakeem is a name spoken in reverence and rumor. A billionaire heiress, veiled in mystery and power, Khadija has fought wars without ever lifting a sword-until now. When betrayal from within threatens to collapse everything her late brother built, Khadija must step into the light, not as a shadowed widow, but as a leader. Her armor? Faith, intellect, and the man she was never supposed to love. Ahmed bin Rafiq was just a logistics manager-humble, disciplined, and far beneath her world. But fate and rebellion forge bonds deeper than status, and together, they must navigate a storm of political deceit, family secrets, and the unspoken tenderness blossoming between them. But power comes at a price. Loyalty will be tested. And love may be their greatest vulnerability. Underneath the Billionaire's Crimson Veil is a spellbinding tale of veiled strength, forbidden connection, and the cost of truth in a world built on appearances. If you love stories laced with passion, power, suspense, and soul-this one will hold you captive. 💍 An arranged vow 💰 A billionaire's secret 🔥 A love that breaks the rules
The Unwanted Wife's Final Silent Escape

The Unwanted Wife's Final Silent Escape

For five years, Daphne played the perfect, invisible wife to billionaire Damian Sterling. But on their fifth anniversary, her only gift was a divorce petition. Damian wanted to officially replace her with the woman he kept tucked away, Isabelle. To speed up the process, Isabelle deliberately plunged her own hand into scalding soup and framed Daphne for the burn. Damian didn't hesitate to violently shove Daphne to the floor. "How can you be so cruel? You're a vicious, pathetic woman!" He rushed his mistress to a VIP hospital suite, while Daphne collapsed from sheer exhaustion and was dumped in a noisy public ward. He only visited to demand she apologize to Isabelle and sign the papers. Later, Damian found Daphne's old locket and accused her of cheating with his cousin. He had no idea she had actually spent years bound by a non-disclosure agreement, secretly protecting his family from a devastating scandal. She had endured his coldness, hoping he would one day love her and the two secret children he didn't even know existed. But as Isabelle mocked her, revealing that even Daphne's custom designer gown was just Isabelle's rejected leftover, Daphne finally understood. Her entire marriage was a second-hand life. The last spark of hope died, replaced by a vast, terrifying peace. Daphne calmly signed the divorce papers using her maiden name, packed a small suitcase, and walked out of the penthouse forever.