Edwin Lyon is about twenty years older, several inches taller, and significantly richer. But that last part is no surprise. He is the CEO of the Lyons Club, after all. And I am so deep in debt that I couldn't see the surface if I tried. The kicker? He has no idea his new nightclub manager—yours truly—used to date his son.

This isn't the first time I've imagined tearing Jenna's clothes off and reddening her ass with my belt, then pinning her to the bed and taking her so roughly she can't help screaming my name. But it's the first time it's about to really happen. Teaching my daughter's nineteen-year-old best friend all the ways a billionaire mobster can make a girl like her blush and beg and come would have been over the line even for me.

For three days, the doors to this luxe New York estate are thrown wide for anyone with a taste for the obscenely rich, the ultra-exclusive, and the once in a lifetime thrill of the forbidden: where nothing is off the table and everything and everyone can be had for the taking.

Arsen Isakov is the rich A-hole trying to buy out my family's dance studio after my father's death. I wanted to give him a piece of my mind and tell him that we'd never sell. But the moment he sat down across the table from me, I realized I'd seen him before. Last night, in fact. When he killed a man in cold blood. He says he's prepared to discuss the sale with me over drinks. The place he picks? The same place where I saw him kill someone.

Hockey star Max Yearwood was everything I needed at the time - fun, sexy, up for anything, and only around for a few months, since he’d signed with a new team 3,000 miles away. Max proposed we spend the summer helping me forget my ex. It sounded like a good plan. Things couldn’t get too serious when we had an expiration date. Right? Though, you know what they say about the best-laid plans.