On the run, I never expected Archer Sin—reclusive, arrogant, and tattooed—to be the doorstep I landed on. Even though he hates me too, Archer agreed to keep me safe from the man who left me broken and bruised. It should be easy to stay out of each other’s way when we’re complete opposites. He wants nothing to do with me and I want nothing to do with him, other than the haven he’s providing. Archer is always glued to his computers anyway, brown hair falling over his eyes as his inked fingers dance across the keyboards.

Making decisions I regret is basically a hobby. So I guess it really wasn’t that surprising when I went out on a date with an Elite. And then he tried to assault me. I might be small, but I’m strong. I fought him off...then went straight to the dean. He didn’t believe me. No one does. And now my date from hell is in revenge mode, and I somehow end up in the campus pool. Did I mention I can’t swim?

Men tremble at the sound of their names while women run, their lives flashing before their eyes. They’re the monsters under your bed, the boogeymen in your closet. Every living soul fears them. They’re relentless and they’re coming to play. They’re the sons of the most notorious mafia boss, the leader of the DeAngelis Family, and they’ve just set their twisted sights on me. They stalked me through my apartment, haunted my hallways, and crippled me with fear. They led me straight into their trap and captured me as though they had every right.

Conspiracy lurks in the realm of Rothen. No one knows this better than Elma Volta, soon to be queen of the frozen kingdom. But as she awaits her coronation, Elma narrowly escapes death at the hands of an enemy assassin. Realizing she has few choices and even fewer allies, Elma offers the assassin a deal: if he can keep her alive until she takes her rightful place on the throne, she will bring peace to their warring lands.

There's nothing wrong with playing the game--except when you know you're about to lose. As a little girl, I dreamed of becoming many things. A twenty-five-year-old photographer struggling to make ends meet with a mountain of legal fees wasn't one of them. Making questionable decisions wasn't either. After hanging up my camera, I start a job I loathe that has me questioning my morals on a daily basis. Until I run into Chicago's newest bad-boy goalie whose reputation is a trainwreck--Emory Olson.