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Romance Books for Women

Bestsellers Ongoing Completed
Wing Of change

Wing Of change

After six years of working tirelessly with every other thing in her life taking the back seat, Aria suddenly decided it was time she kick off her working shoes and live the life she had pushed right under the rugs as she came up with a to-do list which were not so complicated of course but easily said than done right? Especially when life doesn't always give us what we want. Frank Okoji a perfect description of a ruthless and mean boss. Most feared by his employees and hated by those who can't attend half of what he has achieved in just a short period of being the CEO of one of the most talked about exporting company in Nigeria when compared to how poorly his counterpart had performed in the same span of years when placed on the same paddle stone . Could it be his no nonsense working attics or his success story that he owes solely to his gem of an assistant in which no one took notice of because of her non existence nature in the company. What happens when his most loyal and workaholic assistant of six years suddenly turns in her resignation without as much as a reasonable explanation other than living the life she thought she could be missing out on. Will he let her walk right out the door or do whatever it takes to keep her by his side but on the second thought;one would be forced to wonder if his quest to keep her at his side at all cost is all work related as he claims or they is much more than he is willing to let on
When Love Dies, Justice Rises

When Love Dies, Justice Rises

For five years, I, Ethan Hayes, a tech billionaire, adored Chloe, showering her with every luxury, believing my love would finally win her over. Then, a frantic call put me in the Cedars-Sinai ER, facing consent forms for emergency surgery after Chloe's ex, Ryder, joyrode my gift G-Wagen while drunk, critically injuring two. My phone buzzed; Chloe, on her way to Aspen, brushed off my urgency, snapping, "I handled it. I sent the money. Just stay out of it." My blood ran cold when the doctor emerged from the OR with grim news: her parents, on their way to the anniversary dinner I arranged, were dead. Chloe only cared her Centurion Card was declined days later, furious I'd "ruined her trip." She strolled home, demanding to know who died, then dismissed the truth from my housekeeper as "my dramatic attempts for attention." In that sterile hospital hallway, my love for Chloe died; not faded, but extinguished, leaving a cold, clear emptiness, like I was replaced by a stranger. The reality hit me: she paid a fixer to cover up her own parents' murder, and Ryder's old letters, hidden in a shoebox, revealed a years-long scheme to bleed me dry, confirming I was just their "ATM." I knew then I wasn't just losing; I was fighting back, ready to use my wealth, not as a source of affection, but as a shield and a sword. It was never a competition for her love; it was a conspiracy, and the fraud would end now, starting with cutting off every financial tie and bringing the full weight of justice down on them both.
His Obsession, Her Agony

His Obsession, Her Agony

"I want a divorce, Ethan." The words came out, quiet but steady, hanging in the sterile air as my husband, Ethan, stopped swirling the amber liquid in his glass. He didn' t look at me, but at my reflection in the dark, floor-to-ceiling window. "No," he stated, his eyes cold and empty, "You' re my wife, Autumn. You don' t get to leave." I clutched my suitcase, my knuckles white, heart a frantic drum. He smiled, a slow, cruel curve of his lips, a monster I now saw clearly. "Aren' t you? I own this house. I own the clothes you' re wearing. I own your career, what' s left of it." He ignored my whispered pleas, stroked my hair, then grabbed my arm, fingers digging in. "After what you did? After you killed your sister?" The old accusation, his favorite weapon, slicing me open. "You drove her to it. She' s dead because of you. And you will spend the rest of your life making it up to me." Tears burned my eyes as he yanked me closer, the smell of whiskey on his breath. "You belong to me. In this life and the next. Did you forget your vows? Till death do us part." His hand connected with my cheek, a sharp crack, and I fell, tasting blood. He loomed, not a trace of remorse. "This is your fault, Autumn. All of it." He nudged my suitcase. "Unpack. We' re having dinner with my business partners tonight. Wear the blue dress. And smile." Lying there, a plan began to form. He was right about one thing. Only death would part us. So I would die.
The Wife He Broke, The Woman Who Rose

The Wife He Broke, The Woman Who Rose

My husband, Andrew, came home tonight, and he wasn't alone. Standing beside him was his high-school sweetheart, Sabrina Chavez, her hand resting conspicuously on her swollen belly. Then, he dropped the bombshell: Sabrina would be his public partner, she was pregnant, and our marriage was a mistake. He called me barren, an embarrassment from the mountains, and declared he was being generous by not divorcing me, condemning me to stay unseen. My world tilted, because I was four months pregnant, secretly carrying our child, a truth he dismissed with cruel words. The next morning, his security team dumped my belongings in the cold, damp basement - a place not for living, but for storage. My old illness, the one I got saving him, returned with a vengeance, and a sharp pain told me I was losing our baby. Then I watched them chainsaw down the cherry blossom tree Andrew and I planted, a brutal symbol of our love' s end. Days later, Andrew accused me of making Sabrina miscarry, though I knew it wasn't my doing. He beat me, kicked me until I curled on the floor, and in that agony, my baby was gone. He locked me in the basement, bleeding, broken, but a cold fire began to burn inside me. I mailed the signed divorce papers and left my tiny son, wrapped in cloth, for Andrew to find. Then, I set fire to my old life, burning it all to ashes, and whispered, "I' m coming home. For expansion." I escaped into the night, ready to reclaim my power.
Pampered By The Possessive Wall Street Titan

Pampered By The Possessive Wall Street Titan

I was the real daughter of the Montgomery family, finally brought back from a Texas farm. But my parents treated me like a savage, giving all their love to my adopted sister, Heidi. On the night I ran away from my arranged wedding, I almost died. A razor-thin steel wire was strung across a blind curve, positioned perfectly to sever my head at ninety miles an hour. I managed to brake in time and pulled the dashcam footage, which clearly showed Heidi setting the trap and wanting the "farm trash" dead. But when I played the video for my family in the hospital, their reaction chilled me to the bone. My father didn't ask if I was hurt, only yelling at me for causing a scandal. My mother immediately shielded the crying Heidi, begging me to let it go because we were family. My eldest brother even threw a fifty-million-dollar contract in my face, demanding I sign an NDA to cover up Heidi's crime. In my past life, their blind favoritism allowed Heidi to lock me on a burning yacht, killing me and the only man who ever tried to save me. I never understood why my own blood would protect a fake, murderous daughter over me. Opening my eyes again, I was back on the night of the orchestrated crash. I looked at the hush money, and then at the ruthless Wall Street billionaire standing protectively by my side. "I'm not just going to ruin her reputation." "I'm going to take back the entire Montgomery Group."
Escape From His Perfect Lie

Escape From His Perfect Lie

Everyone envied my life. I was Sarah Miller, the picture-perfect wife of high-tech CEO Ethan Hayes – a modern power couple, constantly featured in glossy magazines. Publicly, he was my adoring husband, showering me with grand gestures. It looked like a dream. But behind the scenes, I discovered a nightmare. Hidden on his private cloud, disguised as corporate files, were explicit photos and messages. My husband, Ethan, and his ambitious Head of Communications, Chloe Vance. He called me "The Anchor," his "dutiful, boring wife," a deadweight holding him back. When confronted, he didn' t deny; he gaslighted. "You' re just stressed, Sarah. After everything I' ve done." He weaponized my father' s illness, reminding me how he' d "saved" me, built "this life for us," how I "owed" him. The betrayal was no momentary lapse; it was a brazen, parallel life, constantly flaunted by Chloe' s smug social media posts. I realized I was suffocating in a beautiful, empty museum, a gilded cage. His "sacrifices" and "kindnesses" weren't love; they were chains. He twisted my vulnerability into perpetual debt. The man the world adored was a monster, and my "perfect" life was a suffocating lie. How could I escape? Then, a thick envelope arrived. A letter from an estranged, wealthy grandmother I barely knew, naming me the beneficiary of a colossal family trust. This was it. My way out. I was done being his accessory. I was done being Sarah Hayes.
 I Found the Hockey King's Son, Now He Wants Me as His Mate

I Found the Hockey King's Son, Now He Wants Me as His Mate

At my own engagement party, a sudden fire broke out in the crowded ballroom. My fiancé, Evan, was standing right next to me. But as the flames spread and the crowd panicked, he ripped his arm from my grasp, pushed me backward, and ran straight into the danger to save my stepsister, Ariane. "Chloe, you get out first!" he yelled, not even looking back. I was knocked to the marble floor, trampled by the frantic mob, and nearly burned to death. When I woke up in the hospital, barely able to breathe, my family didn't come to comfort me. Instead, my father and stepmother stormed into my room, furious that I was making a scene. My father demanded I publicly bless Evan and Ariane's new relationship to protect the family's reputation. To make matters worse, he went on live television to announce he was handing over my mother's legacy—the sportswear company I had built from scratch—to Ariane. They treated my three-year relationship and my life's work like disposable trash, expecting me to quietly disappear while they celebrated their stolen happiness. They thought I would just cry and accept my fate as a stepping stone for my stepsister. But I ripped the IV needle from my arm and walked right out of that hospital room. I publicly dumped my cheating fiancé in the hallway, leaving him utterly humiliated. Then, I picked up the phone and called my lawyer. I am taking back control of my company, and I will make them pay back every single thing they stole, with interest.