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.

Millie Baylin just moved to a new city to start college. Introverted and studious, she plans on spending most of her time holed up in the library working on her novel and keeping to herself. But when she gets dragged along to a school football game by her roommate, the hot, alpha quarterback almost drops the ball at his very first sight of her. Bo McCabe is saving himself. A hopeless romantic at heart, he's holding out for the real thing. As soon as he lays eyes on the shy stranger with the striking gray eyes and the angel's face, he'll stop at nothing to find out if she's the one.

After leaving the Big Apple and her bad memories for Tennessee, November starts working for her dad at his strip club doing the books. The one time she’s allowed there during club hours she runs into Asher Mayson. He’s perfect until he opens his mouth and makes assumptions. November wants nothing to do with him - but too bad for her - fate has other plans. Asher Mayson has never had a problem getting a woman - that is, not until November. Now all he can think about is making her his and keeping her safe.

Ruthless, arrogant, and cold-hearted are some of the words I would use to describe my a**hole of a boss, Damon Everette. That doesn't stop the goosebumps from rising along my neck every time he says my name or the way my pulse races when his stormy gray eyes pierce mine. So, when he coerces me into a fake marriage to uphold his family's tradition, I can't resist pushing his buttons. He's a walking red flag, and I should run the second this arrangement ends. But the very thought of losing him is suffocating—a dangerous addiction that I can't seem to break.

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.