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.

I’m just so exhausted—always living on the edge of desperation, one paycheck away from ruin. But this new job… It could be the fresh start I need. It could change everything. The contract is only for three months, but if I keep my head down, work hard, and prove myself, maybe I could stay longer. Maybe I could make Black Mountain Lodge my home. As I pull down the gravel drive, surrounded by the forest and mountains and bright blue skies, I feel something I haven’t felt in a while. I feel hope.

I’ve spent my life putting others first. So when my father runs for New York City mayor—on a promise to take down the city’s most notorious crime family—I do what I always do: push my own dreams aside to help him win. Until I wind up at the wrong party. Trapped in a bedroom with Romolo Ferraro—the dangerous, merciless youngest son of the man my father has sworn to destroy. He terrifies me. He fascinates me. Six foot four and covered in tattoos, he’s everything I should avoid.

I'm starting to think I've been doing this for too long. The screaming fans. The constant media attention. The fat paychecks. None of it brings me the happiness I yearn for. Yet here I am. Another year. Another holiday special. Another Christmas spent alone in a hotel room. But then the lights go up. And I see her.

Six years ago, Maria Romano got her birthday wish—a kiss from Enzo Costa. A man she could never take her eyes off, but who seemed as haunted as her favorite book boyfriends and strictly off-limits. Just one unforgettable moment in the dark and then he was gone. Now Maria is a divorced single mom, moving on and open to romance again. Fatefully, it’s with the new head chef at her sister’s restaurant: Enzo. A gentler man than the one she remembers, yet fire still burns. And a warning still lingers: don’t get too close.

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.

Running away from home at 17 wasn't easy. Let's face it, though, nothing before or in the ten years since has ever been easy for me. And I'm doing okay—sorta. I just need to keep scraping by, living under the radar. Staying out of people's way, off people's minds. When a man walks through my open patio door, stepping boldly into my home and my life, I should be scared, frightened, terrified. I must be more broken than I realized because I'm none of those things. I'm intrigued—and I'm wondering if the way to take control of my life is by giving in to him.

I never planned to give my V-card to a gorgeous stranger I met at a bar. But for once I didn't let myself overthink things. In the few hours we spent together, he managed to push me outside my comfort zone. And I loved every second. I never expected to see him again. Let alone sitting at the head of the boardroom table during my architectural firm's pitch to design his new hotel chain.

Our first kiss was a lie. Our second was a mistake. And the night we spent tangled up in each other? Hot as hell, but a complete disaster.

LaRynn Lavigne and Deacon Leeds had one short and contentious summer fling when they were teens—certainly nothing to build a foundation on. But a decade later, when their grandmothers have left them with shared ownership of their dilapidated Santa Cruz building, they're thrust back together and have to figure out how to brace up the pieces. LaRynn has the money, but in order to access her trust, she has to be married. Deacon has the construction expertise, but lacks the funds. A deal is struck: Marry for however long it takes to fix up the property, collect a profit, and cut ties.

I hate Dante Moretti. He is cold, calculating, and vicious. It’s no secret that he wiped out his former fiancée and her entire family on the eve of their wedding. He’s the kind of evil that makes even devils cry. But that’s not why I hate him.

"Jakob Larson is going to be the death of me." That’s what I think every time he strides into my bar. The Kings of Kearny run this small Texas town, and Jakob is their chief enforcer. The Viking, they call him. He’s a criminal. As dangerous as he is sexy. The kind of man who makes my inner cavewoman sit up and take notice. Him big. Make strong babies. Bring home mammoth for dinner. I’m ready to indulge her desires, but just for one night. Unfortunately, Jakob has other plans. Someone in town is breaking one of the cardinal rules set by the leader of The Kings.

I caught her staring at me from across the quad, eyes fixed on the football jersey stretched across my wide chest. And if I flexed my muscles, showing off the strength of a defensive tackle, it was just to see her blush. And then she did, and I couldn’t get her out of my mind. Her wide eyes. The freckles on her cheeks. I needed to know her. The girl who scampered away every time we bumped into each other—by accident and by design.

Gabriel Ferrara is tall and handsome, and most days she wants to stab her eyes out with a pencil, anything to stop her seeing his perfection. How any female could work in these conditions and not be completely besotted with him is beyond her. Then he opens his mouth and she remembers why. He's bossy and sarcastic, with a wit so sharp it could cut glass. Every weekend is the same . . . while he's off living his dream life, she's counting down the days until Monday when she sees him again.

There was a sh*tstorm brewing. Whispers. Rumbles. A rot—fueled by greed and protected by corruption—that’d seeped like sewage, eating away at everything it touched. The only people I trusted were my brother by blood, my brothers by patch, and the crazy Irish-Scottish bastard I did jobs for. That was why, when the hot-as-hell blonde started trailing my brothers and me, I had to act.