Drowning in the murky waters of the mafia, I’m determined to find a way out. I have my sights set on becoming a film producer and won’t let anything or anyone stand in my way. Then my mother marries a retired Godfather, and I get the head of the Greek mafia as a stepbrother. Nikolas Stathoulis is set on ruining my well-laid plans. His ruthless reputation has me running for the safety of my apartment. But he’s always there. On campus. In my apartment. Expecting me to play by his rules.

It's not a regular party, but instead, my wedding. To Angelo Rizzo. A coldhearted man who's feared by all. Including me. Turns out my stepbrother owes the Cosa Nostra money, and I'm being used to repay his debt to Angelo Rizzo. Do I have a choice? No. Not when it comes to matters concerning the Cosa Nostra. Three hours later, I have a new shiny wedding ring on my finger and a husband I'm terrified of standing by my side. Yep, my life just took a turn for the worse.

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.

Charming. Devastatingly handsome. Ridiculously rich. Kristoff Baldwin came without warning. He made me an offer I couldn’t refuse, and before I could even realize the impact he was making, I was too far gone, despite knowing the consequences of falling. A future together was the impossible dream. My past haunted me and even he had ghosts of his own. Then everything changed when his past came after me and my daughters.

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.

It was supposed to be a joke: Give my best friend raunchy toys for her bridal shower and embarrass her in front of her family. But when my package is wrongly delivered to my gorgeous, mysterious neighbor, I'm the one who ends up mortified. I sneak over to his place to try stealing it back before he finds it. The problem is I get caught mid-heist... And then he makes me stay for dinner. Dinner leads to dessert, and dessert leads to... other dessert, if you get my drift. Several courses of sweet, sinful temptation.

Roman Melnikov is a deadly man in an expensive suit. I know what lies beneath the façade—the scars and tattoos that hint at the man he really is. He came here to find his sister, and his search led him to my dad and his friends. We both want to take them down, and the only way to do that is together. I had no idea how dangerous it would be, or that by the end of it, we'd all be covered in blood. Loving Roman is dangerous, but I can't let him go. His path is leading him straight to hell, and it looks like I'm coming along for the ride.

You know the story where the hero comes in and saves the day, rescuing the heroine right in the nick of time? This isn't that story. Instead of a knight in shining armor, he's a sexy, tatted-up Bratva boss with a reputation for being brutal and fierce. Vasily finds me after I've already been brought to my lowest—broken by cruel men until I barely recognize myself. He doesn't offer me salvation. He offers me protection and revenge. And I gladly take it. Because I don't need a knight in shining armor. I need a villain who doesn't mind getting his hands dirty.

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.

"What do you mean, 'You gave me the wrong sperm sample'?!" But the doctor says he isn't joking. Instead of being my sister's surrogate... I'm accidentally carrying my boss's baby. A few months ago, I agreed to be my sister's surrogate. Then she died in an unsolved accident. I swore I'd keep her child and raise it on my own. But as it turns out, there was a mix-up at the clinic. Instead of carrying my future nephew... I learned I'm pregnant with my boss's child. But Dmitri isn't just my boss. He's also the one who killed my sister in the first place.

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.

Nico De Kysa. Cold. Detached. Ruthless. And my new husband. I didn't want to marry the despicable mafia don. But my father made a deal with the devil, and lucky me, I'm the currency. If I leave… He'll destroy my father's fortune. But if I stay… He'll obliterate my heart. In this union, the lines between love and hate are blurred. So blurred. He's a cold-blooded monster with ice in his veins and frost in his heart. But in bed, Nico De Kysa burns like wildfire. And in the heat of the night, I begin to forget why I hate the mobster.

Running away from home at 17 wasn't easy. Let's face it, though, nothing before or in the ten years since has ever been easy for me. And I'm doing okay—sorta. I just need to keep scraping by, living under the radar. Staying out of people's way, off people's minds. When a man walks through my open patio door, stepping boldly into my home and my life, I should be scared, frightened, terrified. I must be more broken than I realized because I'm none of those things. I'm intrigued—and I'm wondering if the way to take control of my life is by giving in to him.

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.

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.