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Romance Books for Women

Bestsellers Ongoing Completed
From Savior to Obsessed Stalker

From Savior to Obsessed Stalker

The passcode to Conrad Ellison' s private villa was my birthday, a gesture I once thought was the most romantic in the world. Now, it felt like a key to a gilded cage. I walked through his silent mansion, a cold knot of unease growing in my stomach. Then I heard it-a low moan from his bedroom. The door was ajar, revealing Conrad on his knees, clutching a lavender silk scarf. He was touching himself, breathing one name: "Kassidy." My stepsister. My blood ran cold. The man I loved, the man I thought was pure, desired her, not me. As I stumbled back, his phone buzzed. It was Kassidy. "Conrad? You sound... out of breath." He snapped, "What do you want?" She asked if the rumors of our marriage were true. His reply hit me like a physical blow: "Never. She' s a delusional, pathetic woman. I wish she would just disappear." He admitted he only tolerated me to get closer to her, to win her father' s approval. My three years of foolish love felt like a giant, humiliating joke. I remembered how my father brought Kassidy and her mother home after my mother' s funeral, how they made me a villain, and how Conrad, my supposed savior, had stepped in to protect me from bullies. I had been so blind, so stupidly arrogant, believing I was special to him. He wasn't a saint; he was just obsessed with the wrong woman. I ran until my lungs burned, collapsing on the lawn. A hard, sharp resolve formed in the wreckage of my heart. I called Helene, my voice torn with sobs. "I'm done. I don't want him anymore." I was leaving this city, my father, Kassidy, all of it. I was starting over. I was never coming back.
The Betrayed Wife's Sweet Revenge

The Betrayed Wife's Sweet Revenge

The heavy iron gate groaned open, and I stepped out, expecting freedom. After a year inside, I longed for my fiancé, Liam, and our son, Noah. But the drive home to our familiar house revealed a chilling transformation: the paint was wrong, my rose bushes were gone. Then Mrs. Gable, our neighbor, delivered the first blow: "Liam has had his hands full, you know. It was a blessing he had Sarah to help him, especially with her being pregnant and all." Sarah. My brother' s widow. Pregnant. My heart seized. The key didn' t fit, but the door was unlocked. Inside, my home was alien-cold, modern, bare of our memories. And then I saw it: a baby' s playpen, a high chair. Not ours. Creeping to the back patio, I saw Liam, his arm around Sarah, her hand on a very pregnant belly. They looked like a perfect family. My perfect family. Then their words: "Are you sure she won' t cause any trouble? She' s supposed to get out this week." "Don' t you worry about Olivia. I know her. She' s loyal to a fault. She took the fall for us once, she' s not going to make waves now. She knows her place." Us. The word twisted in my gut. The truth hit me: Liam hadn' t made a mistake. Sarah had falsified the architectural plans. They had conspired. Liam had begged me to take the blame, promising a future, swearing he' d wait. I believed him. I sacrificed a year, my reputation, my career, for a monstrous lie. The betrayal shattered my heart, but beneath the pain, a cold, hard anger ignited. They thought I was broken, a loyal fool. They were about to learn how wrong they were.
The Governor's Girl

The Governor's Girl

“What the hell! You idiots! All I asked you to do was keep watch, and you couldn’t even manage that?! Lucas, I’m not paying you to be stupid. Fix this right now!” This echoed throughout Governor Vergara’s entire office as he spoke on the other line. Meanwhile, his board members quietly listened, fear evident on their faces. “Lucas, fix this! Don’t call me until you’ve found her. I don’t care if you need to add more men just to find her today! Lucas, put this in your mind! I don’t want this day to end without you finding her! Clear?!” After ending the call, he immediately sat down in his chair and slammed his expensive phone on the long table, his fist following shortly after, causing his board members to flinch in their seats. “Everyone, get out!” he said calmly, but with a tone of authority. However, when he noticed that his words were ignored, his temper flared even more. This is what he hated the most: having to repeat himself. “I SAID, GET THE HELL OUT!” he shouted. His colleagues quickly stood up, hastily gathering their belongings, and scrambled to exit through the tinted glass door. Once the office was empty, he desperately ran his hands over his face, trying to calm himself, but it was impossible after what his butler—who had been tasked to keep an eye on the woman he was obsessed with—had reported. He picked up his phone and stared intently at the photo of the woman who had driven him crazy for so long. “You can’t escape me, Eullah. You can’t escape me! If I have to pay everyone in this world just to find you, I will,” he whispered to himself. He’s