One wardrobe malfunction. Two people who don’t belong together. Three awful words: “Be my wife."

I’ve seen what the Callaghan Curse has done to my uncles and I know for sure that my mom was one in a million. I’ll stick to going on runs and fucking biker bitches. Now there’s rats in my club and a web of lies being woven around me, I can’t afford to lose my head over a piece of ass.

This is the only way I can make sure she’s safe. And she has to be safe. My feet are quieter than a whisper as they trudge along the asphalt. She doesn’t look at me until we’re nearly toe-to-toe, because she walks her with her beautiful head tipped down. That’s something I’m going to change. I grab her quickly, so fast that she doesn’t even have the chance to make a sound. I’ve got her cuffed and gagged in just moments and in the back seat of my SUV just as quick.

They call him the Sick Heart. They say he's a shameless monster. They say he's a ruthless killer. They say he's as twisted as the man who owns him. They say a lot of things about Cort van Breda. But in our world violence is money, and money is winning, and winning is life, and life is the only thing that matters. Except...he wasn't meant to win that last fight. And I wasn't meant to be his prize. But he did. And I am. And now his sick heart owns me.

She's everything I shouldn't want, but exactly what I crave. She bleeds innocence the way I radiate darkness. The moment she walked into my club, she was mine. She just didn't know it. I'll be the one to ruin her, and she will love every second. Innocence lost can't be regained. 

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.

All I wanted was a date to accompany me to dinner with my parents. A decoy to distract my mother from her ongoing mission to find me a husband. What started out as another awkward dinner ended with us being run off the road. Turns out my pretend boyfriend isn't who I thought he was. He isn’t even the man I was supposed to hire. And he has secrets that might just save us from the nightmare unfolding around me.

Emmett Lasker is impossible to work for. He might be model handsome and stupidly wealthy, but he also has it out for me. He’s given me more last-minute and weekend requests than anyone else, ruining any plans I make. I should quit. And I will. Just as soon as I hit my two-year anniversary and earn out my signing bonus. But after a particularly awful day at work, a breakup (via text!), and my computer crashing, I’ve had enough! So at 11:59 Friday night, I barge into Emmett’s office to tell him what I really think of him. Only, that’s not what happens. AT ALL.

I’ll lock her in a gilded cage and throw away the key. The night we met, she thought she was tasting freedom. I devoured her once and left before I even knew her name. Four months later, Bratva business leads me to the house of my enemy with one objective: Burn it down and kill everyone inside. That’s exactly what I plan to do. Until I find her cowering before me.

I fired off a storm of raunchy text messages...to the wrong number. And he replied. Him: Show me a picture. Him: Tell me your name. Why does the lure of anonymity have me craving to indulge a stranger?