I’m falling for the father of the baby I’m carrying. The problem is: it’s not my baby. And the broody widower is not looking for a long-term partner. As a surrogate, the deal was that I’d only be in England long enough to give birth. At first, the man seemed as pretentious as his name: Sigmund Benedictus. He and I butted heads. Sig challenged my intentions, accused me of just wanting to do this for the money. Gradually, he learned to trust me.

Belles and Mobsters were never meant to be together. And I still fell in love with him, only to be torn apart. Lesson learned.

I hate Dante Moretti. He is cold, calculating, and vicious. It’s no secret that he wiped out his former fiancée and her entire family on the eve of their wedding. He’s the kind of evil that makes even devils cry. But that’s not why I hate him.

Stefan Sabbioni showed up uninvited in my bedroom on my 16th birthday. He stood in the shadows smelling of whiskey and death and wrapped a broken, blood-crusted necklace around my neck. I thought he'd strangle me with it. That night, he left a message for my father. He said he'd be back to take something precious. I never delivered that message, though. I wonder if things would be different if I had because now, two years later, he's back. And he's not hiding in any shadows.

I'll show everyone I'm a threat, and they will fear me. For my family. I have to protect them. The second I hear the name Damien Vetrov I know I'm in trouble. He's an arrogant Russian God. I have zero intention of bowing to him. Ever. Attractive and lethal—he's such an intoxicating mixture. Every second we spend together, the pull between us becomes stronger, and my fear grows. While my body wants him, my head knows better. He has the power to kill my family.