Charming, captivating, seductive—and a cold-blooded killer. I married the Pakhan of the Russian Bratva anyway. I had to, it was part of the deal. Now, I’m faking marital bliss as I tremble with fear, and I cannot wait to be out of the clutches of this ruthless man.

Brutal, cold, and illegally gorgeous, Dante Sartorre isn't just mafia royalty. He's also the tyrant owner of the infamously deviant and members-only Club Venom. He's also my new husband. In my defense, I wasn't supposed to be the bride. But I sealed my fate when I saved my friend by signing the Venom Devil's marriage contract myself. Now, he owns me. All of me…

Lev Zarkov is a real-life monster. No, correction, he's actually the devil. Except, when I first meet him, he's simply the mysterious, handsome man traveling next to me on a first-class flight to New York. And after being dumped at the altar by my loser fiancé who vanished into thin air the morning of our wedding, when things get flirty between me and the mysterious stranger, I think, why not? Surely, I deserve one night to forget. I mean, where's the harm in a little indulgence, right?

I’ve spent the better part of the last few years successfully avoiding my brother’s best friend, Weston Aldrich. As CEO of Andes Inc, the infuriatingly handsome and incessantly grumpy Weston also happens to be my new boss. It shouldn’t have been hard to continue avoiding him. After all, he’s on the executive floor, and I’m one of many copywriters. Weston has his own ideas about how things should go between us. He’s in my emails, leaving notes on my desk, and as if that’s not enough, he arranges for me to accompany him on a business trip.

Theo Graham is charming. Sweet. Absolutely gorgeous. But I’m not a little girl anymore. I shouldn’t want him. I can’t have him. I should know better than to want my best friend’s dad. My best friend is Theo’s son, who may or may not have had feelings for me on and off for the past eight years. Wanting my best friend’s dad was the one secret that was never supposed to come out. Except now, he wants me too.

Marrying the 70-something head of the Cosa Nostra to save my father is the only good deed I’ve ever done. I’m burning and bitter under the fake smile and tight dresses, but I was keeping it together. Was. Until my fiancé’s nephew turns up to dinner uninvited. Angelo "Vicious" Visconti. A beautiful monster with cheekbones as sharp as his tongue. They say I shouldn’t be scared of him, because nine years ago, he went straight. He’s barely a Made Man anymore. But I say, he’s the most dangerous Visconti of all.

From the moment my twin sister set her eyes on Matteo, she decided he was the one. We were just kids, but that didn’t matter to her. In her heart, she believed they were destined to be together. So when their arranged engagement was announced, no one was surprised. At least, that’s what I thought. But lately, something had felt off. Wherever I went, Matteo was there. Lurking in the dark, concealed in the shadows, always watching.

I had one thing on my mind and that was never going to change: The game. The only goal I had was beating the records set by my family. I didn’t have time for anything else. Until she walked in the room. The earth shifted, just like the stories said it would. I said it wouldn’t happen—not to me. I didn’t have the time, but now she was the only thing on my mind. I knew it was her. Now I had to convince her.

I’m out for revenge. He’s out to rule the world. Kirill and I are as different as day and night. We shouldn’t have been in the same frame or universe. But we meet under the strangest circumstances. He’s my superior in the military and the man who’ll introduce me to carnage.

One evening, two years’ worth of memories lost. Under the pretense of recovery, my father sends me to an elite boarding college, but soon, my memories start rushing back, and it’s obvious I’m not at Lakeside to heal. I’m here to hide. Navigating the scattered past to decipher the threat lurking in the shadows is hard while I’m kept in the dark and even harder when he steals my focus. Crude, arrogant, and threatening, he draws me in, and the closer I get, the less I understand. Waking up without memories is terrifying, but remembering the time I lost is infinitely worse.

I was upgraded to first class on a flight from London to New York. The food, champagne, and service were impeccable. The blue-eyed man sitting next to me, even better. He was suave and intelligent. We talked and laughed, and something clicked. Fate took over and the plane was grounded, and we had an unexpected stopover for the night. With no plans, we made our own.

Whip King cannot be the man for me. Cocky, pierced firefighters are perfect for late-night rom-coms, but in real life they’re nothing but trouble. Especially when you find out they work for your dad—after you’ve already slept with them. Moving to my parents’ small town was supposed to be the fresh start I was looking for. When a disastrous Valentine’s Day leads to an unexpected encounter with a sexy stranger, and ends with the hottest night of my life, I didn’t think I would ever see Whip again.

I didn't mean to star in a sex tape, okay? It was just one of those unexplainable things. Like Stonehenge, Police Academy 2, and morning glory clouds. It just happened. Now, my ball-busting father is sentencing me to six months of celibacy, sobriety, and morbid boredom under the roof of Boston's nerdiest girl alive, Sailor Brennan. The virginal archer is supposed to babysit my ass while I learn to take my place in Royal Pipelines, my family's oil company. Little does she know, that's not the only pipe I'll be laying....

It's not a regular party, but instead, my wedding. To Angelo Rizzo. A coldhearted man who's feared by all. Including me. Turns out my stepbrother owes the Cosa Nostra money, and I'm being used to repay his debt to Angelo Rizzo. Do I have a choice? No. Not when it comes to matters concerning the Cosa Nostra. Three hours later, I have a new shiny wedding ring on my finger and a husband I'm terrified of standing by my side. Yep, my life just took a turn for the worse.

Our first meeting was at a nightclub, and it was something straight out of my most romantic fantasies. My ovaries exploded at the sight of the Russian God. And by God, I mean he was ripped, tall, dark, and deadly attractive. There were enough sparks between us to light up a city. Then an explosion blasted through the nightclub, and we got trapped together for three hours, sharing our most personal details...everything but our names. Two years later, our second meeting is the complete opposite of the first. It's clear Misha Petrov, a Russian enforcer for the bratva, despises me.