Logan Whitmere, the handsome owner of Cirque des Miroirs, is full of red flags: secretive, commanding, dangerous. I know better than to trust him, but I'm desperate for a way out of my small town, and he offers me a job as the fortune teller. What does Logan know that he isn't telling me? He seems to want to protect me—from the performers, from himself. I fall for his possession. I'm afraid of his obsession. There are secrets even the crystal ball won't reveal. When the truth is unveiled, I'm forced to confront my dark past.

Amelie: I knew I shouldn't have asked him for a ride. My new neighbor is a study in contradictions—covered in tattoos and dripping intensity. He’s alluring yet aloof, and his every calculated move is dangerously seductive. Little did I know, he’s been systematically inserting himself into every part of my life. Creeping beneath my protective armor. Trapping me like a fly in his web before revealing his true identity.

New Orleans belongs to me. You don't know my name, but I control everything you see - and all the things you don't. My reach knows no bounds, and my demands are always met. I didn't need to loan money to a failing family distillery, but it amuses me to have them in my debt. To have her in my debt. She doesn't know she caught my attention. She should've been more careful. I'm going to own her. Consume her. Maybe even keep her. It's time to collect what I'm owed.

One minute you’re a struggling graphic designer in L.A. who's finally coming to terms with being single forever, and the next, you're flying to New York in a private jet to get engaged to your ex-boyfriend’s older brother. At least...that’s what everyone thinks. Forced to clean up his playboy image in order to protect his company, Beckham Sinclair, the city’s most eligible billionaire bachelor, wants me to be his fake fiancée and personal assistant. Now I'm spending every spare second with a man I thought I’d never see again.

I only wanted one kiss. One kiss, under the dark of night, in a city where no one knew us. One kiss fueled by my hormones and alcohol and the blinding grief over losing my mother. One kiss from the man I told myself was untouchable. But, it didn’t stop at one kiss. And now we are running full speed down a road with no intention of stopping. His touch disarms me. His kiss revives me. But our love could destroy me.