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
The Rejected Charity Case's Spectacular Billionaire Comeback

The Rejected Charity Case's Spectacular Billionaire Comeback

For ten years, Anya Montgomery lived in the grand Sharp villa not as an adopted daughter, but as a despised charity case. Her nightmare peaked on a freezing rainy day when Veronica Sharp threw her and her broken suitcase out onto the wet asphalt. The reason was simple: Anya refused to be sold off to a forty-year-old man infamous for the mysterious deaths of his previous wives. "Marry Mr. Price, or get out of my house." To make matters worse, Anya discovered her only physical connection to her lost biological mother—an antique butterfly brooch—had been stolen. The Sharps' spoiled daughter, Falon, had pinned it to her designer dress, parading it in front of a billionaire guest as a Sharp family heirloom. When Anya confronted them, Veronica sneered and threw a fifty-thousand-dollar check at her feet. "Take the money, forget the brooch, and disappear from our lives." They mocked her poverty and erased her past, treating her like a stray dog that could be bought and discarded at will. They had no idea that this "worthless" brooch was the beacon that would summon her real family—the ultra-wealthy Montgomery dynasty. Anya calmly tore the check in half, snatched her brooch back from Falon's dress, and walked out into the storm. Hours later, the Sharps were on their knees in a hospital, desperately begging for the country's top neurosurgeon to save their dying patriarch. They didn't know that the brilliant surgeon they were praying to, and the billionaire heiress whose brother was currently bankrupting their company, was the exact same girl they had just thrown into the rain.
The Golden Canary Flies Away

The Golden Canary Flies Away

"Ava, it's a decision from the top. There was nothing I could do." My team lead handed me a box of tissues as I was summarily dismissed, the official reason being a fabricated error. Everyone knew the real reason: my boyfriend, Nathan Hayes, was making room for Chloe Davis, his high school sweetheart and the company' s co-founder, back from abroad. Just then, Nathan' s black Maybach pulled up, and Chloe emerged, linking her arm through his. He walked past me as if I didn' t exist, guiding Chloe into the building. My heart tightened. I went to our penthouse, cooked his favorite ribs, and sent him a picture: "Coming home for dinner? Made your favorite honey-glazed ribs." The message was read, but no reply came. Of course not. He was with Chloe. Days later, Nathan finally came home. He saw my pharmacy bag: "You went to the hospital?" I lied, saying it was just a cold. He pulled me into an embrace: "You're not mad I fired you, are you?" I said no. I couldn't be. Three years ago, he saved me from my mother' s gambling debts, and I became his. His kept woman. Then, Chloe's friend, Brenda Smith, found me. She showed me texts of my messages to Nathan, saying he and Chloe laughed about how pathetic I was. She slapped me, slammed my head against the table. I woke up in the hospital, Nathan by my side. He didn' t care about my pain; only about Chloe' s reputation. A part of me had died that day. Nathan wanted his "white knight" and his obedient canary in a cage. But he didn't know his "golden canary" had started digging her own way out.
My Sacrifice, Her Deception

My Sacrifice, Her Deception

For five grueling years, my concert pianist hands knew only the grease and steel of a West Texas oil rig. I sweated, burned, and broke every bone in my body, all to pay off a half-million-dollar debt my girlfriend, Gabby, claimed her failed startup had accrued. My sacrifice was for her, to save the woman I loved. Finally, with the last payment in hand, I drove three hours to a Dallas steakhouse, anticipating our future. Instead, I walked into a private dining room and witnessed my entire world shatter. Gabby, impossibly elegant, was laughing with her childhood friend, Wesley, the man who supposedly owned her debt. My foreman and the debt collector were there too, fawning over her. I heard the foreman proudly declare I' d saved the half-million. Gabby, stroking Wesley' s hand, casually stated, "It' s fine. I' ll just sign another IOU for two million. Make sure he' s stuck on that rig for the rest of his life." Wesley leaned in, kissing her cheek, "Perfect. I just saw a vintage Porsche for a cool half-million." Ms. Fuller. Fuller Oil & Gas. The rig I' d bled on was hers. The debt was a lie. My sacrifice, a cruel game orchestrated to punish me for an abandonment that never happened-a narrative Wesley had twisted years ago after a caving accident, making her believe I' d left her for dead, even burning my musical future. My blood ran cold. The air left my lungs. How could the woman I loved, the one I crippled myself for, orchestrate such a monstrous betrayal? This wasn't just about money; it was about destroying my life, my spirit. But now, I had a choice. Reclaim my broken dream, or let this monstrous lie consume me. I turned to walk away, but then I stopped. I had one last, definitive move to make before I finally walked free.