The second our eyes meet, I feel it. The ticking clock. It's only a matter of time before we come together. Before the heat that arcs between us turns into a conflagration. But he's a mobster. An O’Donnelly. His notoriety is legendary. I'm a journalist. I expose men like him, which is how I built my reputation.

Secrets—you know my family is founded on them. Lies—my marriage hinges on one. I kept the past buried like a coward. Now, I feel the constraints of my choices like they’re a chokehold. I know that it’s time to tell my wife the truth. It’s time to deal with the consequences of my actions. Aoife deserves to be my judge, jury, and executioner. If she burns down the house with me in it, well, that’s on me and my filthy secrets….

She’s a Bratva Princess. I’m an Irish Mobster. She’s untouched and barely eighteen, and I’m in my thirties—we have no business getting married. Unfortunately for us, our fathers decided differently. When she walks down the aisle covered in bruises… that's the moment when everything changes. Someone dared hurt what is now mine and that will not go unpunished. Watch the sparks fly as this arranged marriage turns into something else entirely...

I'm nothing like my father. My brothers don't realize I'm a thousand times worse. Grief fuels my every action. Vengeance burns through my veins, dictating every decision I make. I'll shatter allegiances to please him. I'm nothing like my father. You don't realize that I'm a thousand times worse. I have Savannah at my side—a ruthless partner capable of raining hellfire upon her enemies—until she realizes I lied to her.... My house of cards is tumbling down, and I've underestimated my queen.

Conor's my lifeline. He doesn't know it. I need him to find me. I need him to chase me. I need him to love me. If I haven't already destroyed what we might have had, he's crazy enough to take me on. My Fecker. Mine.

When my father tries to force me to marry one of his cronies, I run away to my half-brother's home. He's the black sheep of the family, a biker, not an Irish mobster. At the Satan's Sinners' MC compound, I find more than I bargained for. Not my brother, ironically, but a man who gives a whole other meaning to "white knight." He's dark and mysterious, a seeker of answers and a finder of truths. Even better? He offers me an out, a shotgun wedding in Vegas.

He’s dark. Dirty. Dangerous. A brother in my dad’s MC. Everything Mom told me to avoid. Everything I shouldn’t want. But his dark, his dirty, and his dangerous are like catnip to me. He stirs fear into the hearts of men, but I hear his rage. I feel it like it’s my own. He’s a killer. Shameless. Some might even call him a psycho. I just call him soul mate. We were born to raise hell together.

Seven-year itch? Can’t say I know what that feels like when my husband is as obsessed with me now as he was on our wedding day. A lot has happened since that first meeting, but through it all, Eoghan's obsession with me is an insatiable craving to make me happy. If anything, I've gotten FILTHY RICHER on his love. Seven-year itch? Nah, seven-year bliss!

A chance meeting brings Jen MacNeill into my life - the woman born to reign at my side. A new don reigns over Manhattan. But though I won the war, peace isn’t easily brokered. Over a decade of avenging my father’s death, I made many enemies. To each and every one, Jen’s a target. But I’ll paint New York City red before I let them harm her. I just never imagined I’d be in the line of fire first.

She was an assignment: a selfish brat who'd run away from home and who’d found refuge in an MC, a spoiled pain in my ass that I had to bring back to Daddy. Only—Isabelle is nothing like the picture my initial research painted. Yes, she's a brat. Yes, she's insecure. And yes, she's a Disciple…sort of. But she's so much more than that. So broken, yet so hopeful. So lost, yet so eager to be found.

From the moment my twin sister set her eyes on Matteo, she decided he was the one. We were just kids, but that didn’t matter to her. In her heart, she believed they were destined to be together. So when their arranged engagement was announced, no one was surprised. At least, that’s what I thought. But lately, something had felt off. Wherever I went, Matteo was there. Lurking in the dark, concealed in the shadows, always watching.

I’m a curvy sports geek. Liam’s a hockey god. He’s way out of my league… My brother’s best friend is acting really weird. Flowers keep showing up. He sends me Cameos and concert tickets. Then, there’s the job offer… Well, first, there was the fact that he tracked me down to NYC. It’s really complicated, okay? But so are my feelings for him. I’ve been ignoring them for so long that they became a wall I’m comfortable hiding behind.

You want to know the secret to everlasting happiness? Never fall in love. That was the wisdom my father imparted to us James boys after our mom died, and it’s a piece of advice that’s served me well. Until dear old Dad asks me for a favor over Sunday brunch. No big deal, right? I love making my old man happy. Except this “favor” is a lot more complicated than picking up his dry cleaning. Dad wants me to marry and provide a few heirs for the James empire, and he’s even done me the courtesy of handpicking my bride-to-be. Lucky me.

I’m just so exhausted—always living on the edge of desperation, one paycheck away from ruin. But this new job… It could be the fresh start I need. It could change everything. The contract is only for three months, but if I keep my head down, work hard, and prove myself, maybe I could stay longer. Maybe I could make Black Mountain Lodge my home. As I pull down the gravel drive, surrounded by the forest and mountains and bright blue skies, I feel something I haven’t felt in a while. I feel hope.

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.