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Romance Books for Women

Bestsellers Ongoing Completed
The Twin's Legacy

The Twin's Legacy

The blinding pain of childbirth ripped through Sarah, but it was the empty chair beside her hospital bed that truly shattered her. Mark should have been there, holding her hand, but his phone was off, just as it had been for hours. Another contraction hit, and alone, sweat-soaked, Sarah delivered her first twin, then geared up to do it all again, frantically trying to reach a husband who had vanished. As she cradled her newborn, a news report flashed on the TV: a sun-drenched beach, turquoise water, and there, laughing, hand-in-hand, were Mark and her best friend Emily, on a "romantic getaway" in Bali. Just then, a cheerful caller informed her the postpartum nanny package she'd paid for had been canceled by her husband. Her blood ran cold. He hadn't just abandoned her; he'd taken everything. A quick check of her banking app confirmed the horror: over eighty thousand dollars, her life savings for the twins, gone. He'd drained it all to fund his sordid escape. The line went dead after her mother-in-law, dismissive and callous, blamed Sarah for not "giving Mark a boy" and for being "careless with her money." The betrayal was absolute, a crushing blow from everyone she thought she could trust. How could she be so blind? How could they betray her so completely, so cruelly? The isolation crashed down, leaving her utterly alone, reeling from a decade-long lie that had just imploded. Just when she thought she might drown in her grief, a cold, sharp voice cut through the haze, forcing her to confront an unexpected intervention and perhaps, a chance to reclaim more than just her babies.
My Gangster Boyfriend

My Gangster Boyfriend

First and foremost, he's a man who avoids physical contact because he doesn't want to catch any germs or bacteria. He's also a man who doesn't know the words 'Please,' 'Sorry,' and Oh, I forgot, he doesn't know the word 'respect' either. He's sensitive. Sensitive to food, the smell of those around him, and even the color of your skin – he'll meddle with it. That's how sensitive he is. He doesn't want to associate with those who don't meet his sensitivity standards. He's high-maintenance. And yes, he's even more high-maintenance than I am. He always knows what he wants and how to get it. He's a cunning, tricky bad boy. He knows how to play, and he's a skilled player. What does he play? This fool plays with feelings. Oh, I forgot, he's a heartbreaker. He's not someone who goes around pleasing others and ensuring their happiness. I'm telling you; he doesn't care about anyone's feelings. Also, he doesn't want to be taken advantage of or pushed around. He doesn't want anyone overshadowing him or not recognizing him. He's an attention seeker! He lets people think what they want. He never worries about someone's approval and does what he thinks feels right. He's a damn selfish, one-of-a-kind man. He cares only about himself. He believes he's better than anyone else, and no one in the world is above him. Yeah, he's got an excessive amount of confidence in himself! He has standards on who he'll talk to. He doesn't like those with missing teeth, metal in their teeth, or bleeding lips. I mean, those wearing lipstick. He's not nice! Definitely not. He's a cold person. He's a bad boy. He's mean and harsh. He's a cursing machine! He has a terrible temper and gets into a lot of fights! Oh, I forgot again – he's nothing but a gangster!
My Billionaire's Weird Love

My Billionaire's Weird Love

"We both know this match is not our will. For that reason, I'm offering you a contract." My eyes widened in shock at Harrison's words-an open proposal from a man I had only met for the first time. What the average family could never pull off happened effortlessly among the right people. I scanned through the printed agreement in my hands. No interference in each other's personal lives Absolute confidentiality of the marriage contract, agreed upon by both parties The marriage shall last a minimum of two years. If separation is still difficult to implement after that period, the contract may be extended until circumstances permit otherwise Some of the clauses were... interesting. A contract like this wasn't natural for a couple about to get married. But strangely, it made me feel more prepared than blindly stepping into the unknown as a member of the Marcus family. "I deliberately left the last page blank," Harrison said calmly, tapping the paper with his finger. "Please write your conditions." His assistant smoothly placed a ballpoint pen into my hand. I didn't hesitate. Respect both families as one No physical contact Separate bedrooms I've always preferred being alone. I've never had a boyfriend-and I never cared to. Unfortunately, my sister did. She was in love, yet she had been betrothed to a billionaire's son she was now being forced to marry. I pitied her. So I made a decision that changed everything. I replaced her. Harrison Marcus, the billionaire's son, didn't want to marry a stranger either. So he proposed a contract-to me. Helping my sister. A marriage without love. A deal that would end in divorce. Or so we thought. Two years later, we planned to file for divorce and walk away like strangers. But contracts don't account for feelings... and neither did we.
Chloe, My Only Regret

Chloe, My Only Regret

Our marriage was a five-year war, a slow burn of mutual revenge. I thought he hated me for trapping him, especially after I hid that letter from his college sweetheart, Sarah Jenkins. He retaliated by bringing other women home, making them use my mug, sit in my chair, their perfume a constant torment he inflicted just to see the pain on my face. After years of fighting for even a sliver of his attention, I woke up from a nightmare so vivid, so terrifyingly real, it felt like a premonition: a future where he'd force me to sacrifice everything for Sarah, leaving me ruined and discarded. The terror of that vision compelled me to act; I demanded a divorce, expecting a fight, only for him to agree to my outrageous demand of 50% of his company shares. Just as I believed I was finally free, I walked into a bar and saw him, playing the devoted hero to Sarah, shielding her from two thugs. He accused me of orchestrating the whole thing, his fury blinding him to my innocence, confirming his deep-seated belief that I was nothing but a manipulative monster. Then, just as I was about to walk out on him for good, he ambushed me, dragging me into a private room, his rage-filled kiss a violation, yet confusingly, it stirred something within me I swore was long dead. The nightmare, however, brought me back to reality, and I pushed him away, screaming for him to go to Sarah, desperate to escape the dangerous flicker of hope his touch ignited. When I presented a revised divorce agreement, offering to take less, he simply shredded it, then later, I watched, horrified, as he chauffeured Sarah around in my Porsche. His phone call came late, a vulnerable whisper, claiming a car accident, drawing me to him despite everything, only for me to find him drunk, unhurt, and suddenly, bewilderingly, in tears, confessing his enduring love and tearing up yet another document – this time, a full transfer of his company shares to me. I placed Sarah's letter, the one I had hidden, beside him, ready to finally reveal the truth, only for him to casually dismiss it, claiming he never loved her, and admitted to hiring actresses for five years to make me jealous. Only then did I confess my own deception, and the realization of our shared, foolish misunderstanding brought us crashing together, five years of wasted pride melting away as he pulled me into his arms, finally understanding the depth of our love.