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Romance Books for Women

Bestsellers Ongoing Completed
When Love Turns to Vicious Control

When Love Turns to Vicious Control

"I need the money, Jaida. My mom's in the hospital." My plea was met with a sneer from my ex-fiancé, Kirk Knapp, who then dropped a thick file on the table, detailing every single dollar he'd spent on me during our relationship. Then it got worse. "One box of tampons, $8.99. One pack of birth control pills, $50. A lace nightgown from Victoria's Secret... $78." He announced I owed him $200,000, which he generously reduced to $150,000 since I was trying to collect a debt from his niece. My humiliation was a spectacle for his wealthy friends, who then suggested I "work it off on my back." Kirk, enjoying my torment, offered an alternative: drink ten bottles of whiskey for the money. I did it, desperate for my mother's surgery. I rushed to the hospital, cash in hand, only to be told by the doctor, "An hour ago, we received a call from Mr. Knapp. He instructed us to halt all life-sustaining treatment for your mother. He said you could no longer afford it." My world shattered. I screamed into the phone at Kirk, "Why would you do that?" His cruel laugh echoed, "Because you dared to bother Jaida. This is your punishment, Holly. Her life is on you." My mother was gone. I didn't understand why he would do something so monstrous. Why would he take away my last hope, my last family, for a petty revenge? With nothing left to lose, I accepted an offer to join a national research project, determined to build a new life, free from his shadow.
Affair With My Uncle

Affair With My Uncle

"Peaches don't hold his hand, he used that for masturbation." I said that made Peaches broke her hold and blushed. Phillip glared at me and looked at Lady whose full attention was still on Kuya Allen. Ouchie twinnie. We didn't take much time in Bega Falls because we still need to climb again, good thing that Peaches and Mona helped us carry our bags while Phillip's carrying me on his back so I wouldn't get tired. Lady on the other hand, keeps on flirting with Kuya Allen whose just too kind to not ignore her. After a long way of climbing, we were back again on the road but this time Phillip was the one driving and we let Kuya Allen rest for a while. Were on our way to our next destination when Peaches' mom called and told her that Kuya Lucas got accident and she needs to get there ASAP, so we rode back to San Francisco instead. It was already nine on the evening when we arrived at home and everyones already asleep. I was wearing my usual pantulog, which is a dolphin shorts and a spaghetti strap shirt and went down to the kitchen to get my milk because I can't sleep. I opened the fridge and took out a box of fresh milk because I'm not into warm milk, then stayed there for a few minutes. I tapped my fingers on the kitchen bar and noticed that someone just came from outside using the backdoor, I looked at my surroundings and spotted the kitchen knife and hold it. I walked slowly until I was on the back of that someone and was about to stab him but then he turned around and shoved the knife off my hands. I shouted but he hastily covered my mouth with his left hand while this right arm encircled around my waist to prevent me from falling. This is too cliché for me. I kicked his balls that made him remove his grip on me. "F*ck!" He groaned. I immediately got the frying pan that was on my side all along but he caught both of my hands and pinned me on the wall. Sh*t! I can feel his bulged in between my thighs!
The Birthday Betrayal

The Birthday Betrayal

My husband, Ethan, always said the money was in my account for my birthday, but that thin comfort barely masked the ache of five years of neglect. Every year, on our shared birthday, he’d be "swamped with work," while his childhood friend and my birthday twin, Chloe, got the full Ethan Davis production – elaborate plans, thoughtful gifts, all the attention I craved. He’d even bought this stunning silver sequined dress, making me foolishly believe this year might be different, that it was for me, only to overhear him in the bathroom, tenderness dripping from his voice for Chloe, calling me "not a toddler" who needed her hand held. Then, the Instagram post. Chloe, beaming, wearing *my* supposed birthday dress, planting a kiss on Ethan’s cheek, captioning it, "Best birthday ever with my one and only protector!" Five years of turning a blind eye, of justifying his absence, of trying to understand his "charity case," evaporated into a cold, hard rage. I was a wife who simply wanted her husband to remember her birthday, to prioritize her over his childhood flame who clearly wanted to be more than friends. And for that, I was dismissed, humiliated, a "placeholder" in my own marriage. But that moment, seeing his brazen betrayal plastered online, was the last straw. I typed, "This trash is yours now. Have fun with him," under Chloe’s post, and then announced on my own Facebook: "After five years, I’ve decided to file for divorce from Ethan Davis. Some things just aren’t worth fighting for anymore." I was done being the invisible wife; it was time to choose myself.
Beyond Repair: A New Beginning

Beyond Repair: A New Beginning

The system overload alarm shrieked, sparks flying, monitors flickering. My own algorithm, my miracle cure, was dying, and it was taking me with it. Liam Thorne, facing me, declared, "Bring her back, Ava! You said your algorithm could heal anything!" His face a mask of cold fury over his lost love, Chloe. "It can fix systems, Liam, not resurrect data that's been corrupted for a year!" I cried, tears streaming, a sharp pain shooting through my chest. His voice, a low growl devoid of warmth, accused, "You ruined everything. If it weren't for you, Chloe would have finished her AI, and we would have built an empire. You owe me this." He' d forced me to push my healing algorithm past its limits for a ghost project of Chloe' s, a project she had sabotaged out of jealousy due to an archaic Thorne family tradition: whoever fixed Liam's paralyzed system had to marry him. I had fixed it, naive, desperate for validation, eager to prove my genius. It became my prison. The final alarm blared, screens went black, and darkness consumed me as the pain in my chest exploded. Then, I gasped. My eyes shot open. I wasn' t in my lab. I was in a lavish room, all white leather and chrome, sunlight streaming through a floor-to-ceiling window. Liam Thorne sat in a high-tech wheelchair, younger, but still etched with frustration. I knew this day. This was the day it all began. The day the Thorne family brought me here, the brilliant reclusive tech genius, to fix Liam\'s critically damaged mobility system. In my past life, I would have felt a thrill of challenge. This time, I looked at Liam, the man who would watch me die without remorse, and a faint, knowing smile touched my lips. "Your system is beyond repair," I stated, my voice clear and steady.