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.

It was supposed to be a harmless kiss at a lavish debutante ball. A clandestine moment with a handsome stranger. But unlike his namesake, my Romeo isn’t driven by love. He’s fueled by revenge. To him, I’m a chess piece. Leverage. His rival’s betrothed. To me, he is a man deserving of poison. A dark prince I refuse to marry. He thinks I’ll accept my fate. Well, I plan to rewrite it. And in my story, Juliet doesn’t die. But Romeo? He perishes.

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....

In the beginning, there was Savannah Shaw. Teasing me with a mischievous, merciless grin by day. Crawling through my window with tear-stained cheeks by night. I was ordered to avoid her. Lectured on her misdeeds. Forbidden from seeing her. But my need to protect her was innate. So natural I never questioned it. So visceral I couldn’t fight it.

She’s my mission. My prize. My obsession. Ivy Kingston is the most wanted woman in the world for reasons she is completely oblivious to, reasons I intend to capitalize on. She needs a husband to receive her inheritance, so I’m on the hunt for a wife. As long as it’s her. I’m not who she thinks I am. But she has no idea who she really is either. I’ll be her groom. Her keeper. Her lover. And quite possibly her demise.

Kerris Moreton knows how to make things work. Bounced from foster home to foster home as a kid, she adapted; when opportunity arose, she thrived. Now, about to open her own business and accept a marriage proposal, Kerris is ready to build the life she's always wanted. The only thing missing? A passionate connection with her would-be fiance, Cam. Kerris wants to believe that sparks are overrated—until Walsh Bennett lights her up like the Fourth of July.

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.

Working as Ruslan Oryolov’s personal assistant is the job from hell. After a long day spent tending to the billionaire’s every whim, I need some stress relief. So when I get home that night, that’s exactly what I do. Problem is, my thoughts are still stuck on the bosshole, who’s ruining my life. That’s fine—because of all Ruslan’s many sins, being gorgeous might be the most dangerous.

Twenty-something Kat Reid is loving life as an in-demand Hollywood makeup artist. She has absolutely no interest in rock 'n' roll, but in order to pay the mortgage, she agrees to work on the set of a rock video for the world-famous rockers known as Bad Habit...which brings her face-to-face with Nico Nyx, lead singer of Bad Habit and Adonis in the flesh.

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.

Callum Griffin is the heir to the Irish mafia. He’s ruthless, arrogant, and he wants to kill me. We got off on the wrong foot when I set a (very small) fire in his house. Our families believe a marriage pact is the only thing that will prevent all-out warfare. I think I might need to murder him while he sleeps. This would all be a lot easier if Callum wasn’t so damned good-looking.

I kissed my father’s best friend, and it kind of didn’t go well. Not only because he’s 18 years older than me - but he also didn’t like it. Not one bit. In my defense, I didn’t mean to fall for him. It just happened. Nathaniel Weaver is the most attractive man I’ve ever seen with enough charisma to blind the sun. He’s bigger than the world, owns half of it, and conquered the other half. He was forbidden. Wrong. So I totally got over him. Or so I told myself. Until we’re forced to get married.

For a long time now, I’ve despised Weston Shaw. He’d been someone I’d admired, taking my favorite football team, the Colorado Mustangs, to the Super Bowl. But that all turned upside down after one night that had nothing to do with me. We share one undeniable connection: his son, Caleb. Unfortunately, the circumstances behind that have never been my story to tell. But now, the truth is out, and I’m left to deal with the consequences. I’m living under the same roof as Weston, and each day, I discover a side of him I never expected.

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.

A year ago, my best friend received an exclusive invitation to join an elite brotherhood at Kingston University. He went into Hawthorne Hall for his initiation—but never came out. I intend to find out why. The brotherhood would never knowingly invite a female into their ranks. So what if I forged my father's signature on the recommendation? With a name like Elliot Ashford, they'll never see me coming. I'll endure whatever hell these brutal brothers put me through because I have no intention of backing down or bowing out gracefully. It won't be pretty.