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
Kicked Out? Watch The True Heiress Shine

Kicked Out? Watch The True Heiress Shine

For nineteen years, Chloe lived with the Tucker family, enduring their endless insults while acting as their quiet, grateful adopted daughter. But today, her adoptive sister Amber framed her for stealing a cheap, fake diamond necklace. Her adoptive parents didn't even bother to investigate the obvious setup. Brenda called Chloe a jealous stray from the trailer park, while Gary turned purple with rage, pointing at the door and ordering her to pack her trash and leave immediately. Even her cheating ex-boyfriend Preston joined the drama, comforting Amber in the driveway and screaming at Chloe for being a vicious woman. The household staff smirked in the shadows, openly enjoying the sight of her being scolded and thrown out. Chloe looked at these pathetic actors, feeling nothing but pure, unadulterated disgust. "Living with you for nineteen years was an insult to my intelligence." She didn't cry or beg for their forgiveness. Instead, Chloe completely wiped her phone, packed her heavy laptop, and walked out of their front gates. The Tuckers stood in stunned silence as a massive, military-grade stealth helicopter descended from the sky to pick her up. Her real grandfather, the head of the ultra-powerful Sinclair family, had finally found her. As Chloe boarded the aircraft to reclaim her true identity, she sent Gary a grand parting gift: a certified DNA report proving Amber was never his biological daughter.
My Rival, My Redemption

My Rival, My Redemption

I'm Ethan Vanderbilt, a Kingsbridge legacy, currently facing the annual Legacy Pairing Program. For years, one nightmare haunted me: I chose Clara Hayes, she tragically died protecting me, whispering "Don't choose me... next time." Today is that next time. Defying fate, my powerful father, and tradition, I shocked everyone by choosing Scarlett Jones, my sharp-witted rival. But the dream's shadow deepened. Clara, obsessed with Julian Vance-a supposed guitar virtuoso-begged me to release her. Julian, a master manipulator, systematically built a web of lies around her, framing me as the villain. Clara, utterly blinded by Julian, publicly humiliated me, accused me of poisoning, and even physically assaulted me. Every attempt to reveal his deceit only cemented her belief in his false heroism and my assumed malice. I was condemned, trapped as the antagonist in a story I never wrote. How could she refuse to see the obvious truth? At Julian' s grand engagement ball, I finally exposed his deceptions with an undeniable truth, shattering Clara's world. Her desperate pleas for forgiveness? I coldly rejected them. But Julian, enraged, hired an assassin. In a final, desperate act, Clara threw herself in front of me, dying to save the man she finally knew she truly loved. Her sacrifice broke the cycle, freeing me. Now, with Scarlett, my fierce partner, can I truly forge a love that conquers fate?
His Wife's Secret, His Burning Rage

His Wife's Secret, His Burning Rage

For six months, I clung to the belief my wife, Sophia, was in Europe saving her family's struggling hospital-the one I' d poured my career into. Then she came home, stepping out of the car beaming, but not alone; her personal assistant, Mark, was with her, pulling her luggage. "I have something wonderful to tell you," she chirped, taking my hand, her eyes betraying a nervous flutter. "I'm pregnant," she announced, placing a protective hand on her stomach. My heart soared until her gaze shifted to Mark, and she added, "It's not yours." The world spun. My wife, pregnant with another man's child, stood before me in my home. "I'm three months along," she offered, clinically. Before the shock could fully register, she brazenly declared, "I need you. The baby has a congenital heart defect. A procedure only you perfected." She wanted me to save her lover's child. I was a surgeon, not a pawn. "No," I choked out, but her mask crumbled, revealing a ruthless stranger. "You will. Or I'll divorce you, tell the world you refused to save an innocent child, ruin your reputation, and destroy the hospital you built." Then, a chilling memory resurfaced: our miscarriage, years ago. Sophia had been oddly dismissive then, saying, "It was just a bunch of cells. Don't be so dramatic." Now, overhearing her on the phone with Mark, it clicked: "I'm not going to do something stupid like go jet-skiing just to show off for you again. We learned our lesson, didn't we?" Jet-skiing. She' d been eight weeks pregnant with our child then. She' d risked our baby' s life to impress him. My child hadn't been an accident; it had been a calculated choice. The love I felt for her vanished, replaced by a cold, hard resolve. I would do the surgery. But the moment that child was stable, I would burn our lives to the ground and walk away.