Mari Marcosa may be head of her family’s mafia empire, but the new enemy hiding in the shadows is determined to destroy her—piece by piece. She has no idea who she can trust. Until three men become the very foundation of her survival. Greyson: Her best friend, her second-in-command, her savior. The one she always needed but couldn’t have. Dominic: Her new underboss with molten eyes and a smile made for war. He brings out a gentle side in Mari she doesn’t know if she can afford.

When my father passed away, I assumed my grieving would be as simple as closing a book and starting another. Only he had other plans. Leaving me his beloved tattoo shop, I’m stuck to figure out what exactly to do with it, all while being constantly reminded of him.

Agent Bradly "Wolfe" Tucker has one case he cannot solve: six murdered women and a cold trail leading nowhere. When bodies with an eerily similar MO show up in Philadelphia, he volunteers to assist with the case. He figures he will spend a few days in Philly, hand the case off, and head back to his life in Seattle. But everything changes when he stops at a local bar, looks across the room, and sees her. Agent Leda Bailey has had a bad week. She has three dead women and no trail to follow. The clues don't add up, and nothing makes sense.

According to the FBI, I was considered a serial murderer after three kills. What do they call me after fifty-two? They call me the Silencer. One final bullet would have been all it took to stop me from taking another soul, and I would have been doing Meridian City a service by pulling that trigger. An angel crying for help stopped me, and that night, I took three lives for her. Then three turned into eight. Then eight turned into twenty. Twenty turned into twenty-one. Twenty-one turned into twenty-three.

With green eyes and an easy smile, Frank McCabe stole me away from the nightmares that awaited me at home. But the son of the Irish Mob would never be mine. I belonged to the Italians. And the moment my mother sold me to the head of the Italian Mafia, I became the one the people of Boston were warned about. The only person more feared than me in our city is the Irish Ghost. When I finally flee my marital prison with my sons and my sister in tow, I unwittingly run straight into the ghost of the Irishman who died in a fiery explosion years ago.