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.

Cruelty is his middle name, and I'm at his mercy. My father has kept me locked away in an ivory tower. I thought he wanted to protect me, but he only wanted to protect his asset. An untouched, sheltered mob princess is worth a lot of money to the right buyer. My father's greed means Sicily is no longer big enough for him. I'm shipped across the Atlantic to Boston to marry a man I've never met, whose reputation for cruelty reaches as far as the shores of Sicily.

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.

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.

I’m nothing but a payment, bartered to the most powerful cartel in the northern hemisphere and forced to marry a man I do not know. My father sold me to save his own skin. He might as well have ushered me to the gates of hell. The Marino family is sadistic. If rumors are true, they’ll own me, use me, control me, and strip me of every freedom I’ve taken for granted. I’ll be a shiny new toy in a dark and deadly underworld.

They thought she was unsuitable as a bride because she was mute. I thought that made her perfect. Silent. Invisible. I could pretend she didn’t even exist.

Gabriel Ferrara is tall and handsome, and most days she wants to stab her eyes out with a pencil, anything to stop her seeing his perfection. How any female could work in these conditions and not be completely besotted with him is beyond her. Then he opens his mouth and she remembers why. He's bossy and sarcastic, with a wit so sharp it could cut glass. Every weekend is the same . . . while he's off living his dream life, she's counting down the days until Monday when she sees him again.

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.

Wanted: one hot billionaire to pose as my Christmas boyfriend. Must be willing to make my cheating ex jealous when you kiss me under the mistletoe at all the holiday parties. Bonus points if you make him cry. To my surprise my billionaire boss is more than up for the challenge of coming down the chimney as my holiday boyfriend. The sexy single dad desperately needs a plus one at a Christmas Eve wedding, where he’s the best man and I’m the maid of honor.

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.

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.

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.

I caught her staring at me from across the quad, eyes fixed on the football jersey stretched across my wide chest. And if I flexed my muscles, showing off the strength of a defensive tackle, it was just to see her blush. And then she did, and I couldn’t get her out of my mind. Her wide eyes. The freckles on her cheeks. I needed to know her. The girl who scampered away every time we bumped into each other—by accident and by design.