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.

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

I’ve got debt—yeah, I know, so does everyone else on Planet Earth. But the bills I’m paying keep my dad and my grandma alive. So it’s pretty messed-up for Timofey Viktorov to use them as a threat to keep me under control.

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.

They thought she was unsuitable as a bride because she was mute. I thought that made her perfect. Silent. Invisible. I could pretend she didn’t even exist.

It's the first look on my wedding day. I turn...but my husband isn't there. Instead, I see the stranger who ruined my life.

To be fair, I didn’t know he was my boss when I slept with him. I thought he was just the kind stranger offering me a place to stay. But one night in Misha Orlov’s hotel room got me way more than I bargained for.

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.

What would you do if you walked in on your husband cheating? I'll tell you what I did: Ran out the door with nothing but the clothes on my back. A month later, I'm broke, jobless, almost homeless. But then, while filling in as a waitress at a fancy restaurant, I trip and land in the lap of a gorgeous stranger.

My life was one perfect lie. Until the Don burst in and tore it all apart. He broke into my clinic late one night and made me his. Nine months later, I’m on the side of the road giving birth—and who do I see stopping to help? The mobster. The monster. The man who made me beg for more—and then left before I ever got his name. He doesn’t realize who I am. Where I’m from. What I’ve done. But I’ve got secrets that I’ll die to keep safe from him. Starting with this: That’s our baby in his arms.

I got pregnant from a one-night stand. I wasn’t going to tell the father...until I walked into the office and found out he’s my new boss. Here’s some advice: Don’t sleep with your boss. Here’s some more: Don’t sleep with your married boss. And while I’m at it: Don’t sleep with your married, dangerous, billionaire, completely incapable-of-feeling boss because all he’s going to do is break your heart and your body and leave you to cry in the ashes. But I’ve never been good at taking my own advice.

Dante Marino’s the definition of beautiful destruction. Everything he touched, he destroyed...including me. We were friends. Then we weren't. He used me. Played me. Took every ounce of my affection and threw it away. He became my enemy, then risked everything to save me. Now, he wants me back, claiming he's changed - determined to make me his. Each vow, every possessive kiss, feels like he’s mine. But I can't forget that underneath his rock-hard body, seductive grin, and wicked promises, one thing will always remain true - he's my undoing.

How did I end up playing fake fiancée to a runaway criminal? Well, I was supposed to get married today—but that’s a whole other story.The part that matters is that I took the car and ran, still in my wedding dress. I promptly crash said car into a bridge, and when I get out to check the damage… I'm disoriented and fall right into the river below. That should’ve been it for little old me. Goodnight. Close the curtains. Roll the credits. Drowned by my own wedding dress—how morbidly appropriate. But then someone saves me.

I thought it was just a hookup on an airplane. Let’s be cute and call it a “one-flight-stand.” Or we could be more accurate and call it what it really was: the day that ruined my life.

A three-year stay will award you with an education that will rival any college and enough money to aid you in whatever career you choose. I’m applying to give my mom the life she deserves, to fund my sister’s medical bills...and so that I can have the only thing I truly want. For my family I will give them my time, my soul and my body, but I will never give them my heart. This place is going to test me, and the guys very well could break me, but they won't keep me down forever.

Meet Randi Burnett—she’s brilliant, she’s beautiful, and she works for the bride. Missing groom? Intoxicated in-laws? Crying ring-bearer? You name it, she wrangles it. Too bad her personal life isn’t thriving like her side gig as a bridesmaid for hire. Recently dumped, Randi throws herself into her biggest challenge yet when she’s hired as a maid of honor and pretend best friend for an ice queen bride. There’s just one problem—the best man is infuriating, overprotective, and anti-marriage.

Lowen Ashleigh is a struggling writer on the brink of financial ruin when she accepts the job offer of a lifetime. Jeremy Crawford, husband of best-selling author Verity Crawford, has hired Lowen to complete the remaining books in a successful series his injured wife is unable to finish. Lowen arrives at the Crawford home, ready to sort through years of Verity's notes and outlines, hoping to find enough material to get her started. What Lowen doesn't expect to uncover in the chaotic office is an unfinished autobiography Verity never intended for anyone to read.

Ryder, Garrett, Kenzo, and Diesel - The Vipers. Their deals are as sordid as their business, and their reputation is enough to bring a grown man to his knees, forcing him to beg for mercy. They are not people you mess with, yet my dad did. The old man ran up a debt with them and then sold me to cover his losses. Yes, sold me. They own me now. I’m theirs in every sense of the word. But I’ve never been meek and compliant.

Beckett: If you’re reading this, well, you know the last-letter drill. You made it. I didn’t. Get off the guilt train, because I know if there was any chance you could have saved me, you would have. I need one thing from you: get out of the army and get to Telluride. My little sister Ella’s raising the twins alone. She’s too independent and won’t accept help easily, but she has lost our grandmother, our parents, and now me. It’s too much for anyone to endure. And here’s the kicker: there’s something else you don’t know that’s tearing her family apart.

I'm addicted to my stalker. He watches me at night, sneaking in through my living room window and making my blood turn to ice. I feel him all around me as chills snake down my spine. Each night he becomes bolder, getting closer and welcoming himself into my bedroom, feeding his addiction.

Arrogant bosshole with some dirty secrets. Sounds tempting, right? Wrong. Kirill Zaitsev is anything but tempting. Sure, he’s tall and broad and muscular in all the right places. And sure, he’s richer than several small countries. And yes, fine, his eyes do make me feel loopy, and he does smell like mint and musk, and there’s also the way his jaw clenches when he… Sorry, where was I? Oh yeah. Bosshole. Dirty secrets. Anyway, all those things sound fine and dandy. For a little while, I thought so, too. Then I learned who Kirill really is—a killer, a tycoon, a mafia don.

My fiancé is screaming at me in public. I'm used to it. My role here is to look pretty on his arm and to play nice so he doesn't hurt my sick daughter. What I'm not used to is the man who comes to my rescue. Adrik Tasarov is a tall glass of gorgeous. He's got a jawline that could cut glass and eyes that could melt steel. Best of all: my fiancé is absolutely terrified of him. So when Adrik asks me to dance, I say yes. When he asks me to do a little more than that, I say it again. Then comes the make-or-break moment. Adrik offers me a fake marriage to get me out of my real one.

Three months ago, I almost got hit by a car. The guy behind the wheel was as gorgeous as they come. We got to talking and… well, things got a little carried away, if you know what I mean. But when it was over, we went our separate ways. Except, not quite. The little plus sign on this pregnancy test tells me our story isn't over. But that's a problem for another day. First, I have to go to my sister's engagement party. When I see who she's marrying, my jaw hits the floor.

I owe everything to Emilia's father. I'd do anything for the man. When he asked me to marry his daughter, I thought he was insane. I was only going to protect her. That was my job. Yet, one innocent kiss changed everything. Now, it's not about what her father wants. It's all about her. When enemies try to take her and the life we could have away, they will learn why they call me the devil. I'll show them no mercy. Emilia is mine, and God help anyone who tries to come between us.

Monsters don't hide in dark alleys. They lurk in plain sight, clawing into your soul with cordial smiles. They wear Armani, they drive Cadillacs, they attend fundraising balls... And they rule the city with a merciless fist. The Familia is a mystery to most, and sitting on its throne is Kage Malvagio. Vile. Sadistic. Painstakingly beautiful. Some say: Ask for forgiveness, never permission. Kage asks for neither—especially when he gets his hands on me. I should hate him. I should run at the first chance I get. But how could the devil be so bad when he looks at me like that?

A wedding is supposed to be the happiest day of a girl's life. For me, it was a nightmare. The man I'm promised to isn't exactly Prince Charming. And the way I ended up on this altar isn't exactly the stuff of fairy tales. You see, my family isn't like yours. My father and brother do... things... that should never see the light of day. Things like wagering me at a poker game to be the wife and baby momma of a dark-eyed devil.

Massimo D’Agostino is the heir to his father’s empire. Don’t be fooled by his handsome face or that piercing blue gaze. He’s no prince charming. He’s dangerous and feared, possessive and fierce. Our first meeting began with a contract that forced me to marry him and sign my life away. I was a debt repayment and a pawn in his game to exact revenge against my father. The only way out is death. I belong to him now. Me, the Balesteri Mafia princess. Pure and untouched. Owned by the devil who placed me in a gilded cage.

When I was 16, a gypsy fortune-teller told me my future held darkness and death. She was right. But what she didn’t tell me was I’d lose all my memories and that I wouldn’t recognize the devil when he came to steal my life. Lucca Dyshekov - the Bratva assassin they call Merciless - rose from hell and turned my world upside down. On our wedding day, he taught me real monsters aren’t the ones who hide in the dark. They’re the ones who stare you in the face and steal your soul.

Gabriel Corso is the stuff of nightmares and dirty dreams. He's a sinfully gorgeous mafia prince from a brutal rival family. In school, he was the bane of my existence. The dark villain to my sheltered princess. Then–poof–he disappeared. If only he’d stayed away. Turns out, our marriage is a term of his inheritance and now he’s returned to collect what’s his. That means ripping me from my gilded cage. It means locking me beneath his searing flesh. It means war. I’m not supposed to like it. To beg for more. To fall for him.

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.

Kieran Murphy is an Irish mob boss and one of the most powerful men in Boston. When he walks me home, people step aside out of respect for him. He could have any woman he wants. So why does he have eyes only for me? Is it how he has to lift my chin with his fingers to keep my eyes level with his when he scolds me and how I cover my bottom instinctively when he tells me that I've earned a spanking? Or is it how I quiver at the thought of everything I'm too ashamed to beg him to do to me? Maybe it's all of those, but I'm pretty sure there's something else too.

Life as I knew it ended with a bullet. It stole my brother from me and destroyed my family. From the ashes, I rose stronger and meaner, to exact the kind of revenge best served bloody and cold. I took out every single person I held responsible. Except one. He’s a phantom but his days are numbered. I won’t stop until I’m done. Then she shows up—the forbidden fruit, a light to my darkness. I should resist her because what I touch, I destroy. My feisty wildflower deserves more: more than this, more than me.

My rock bottom is a warm beer in a smelly country bar, an empty wallet, and nowhere to sleep. A few days ago, I made a terrible mistake. I stole something valuable from very bad people. And now they're here, armed to the teeth, about to put me out of my misery. Except they don't. Because an unexpected stranger swoops in out of nowhere and saves me. Anton Ulianov. Six and a half feet of broodiness, arrogant as hell, he's the dictionary definition of "D.A.N.G.E.R." And he takes out my attackers like he's taking out the trash. One thing leads to another, and I end up in his bed.

I thought I was lucky to have a fresh start. Those don’t come around often for a girl from the streets of this city. But a fortunate chain of events has delivered me to the center of wealth and power and into the midst of three very different, very formidable cousins with the world at their feet. Gage, Micah, and Conner were determined to be my enemies. So I braced for a war. But they underestimated me. I earned respect from one of them, friendship from another, and I found love with the third. Or so I thought.

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.