𝗔𝗰𝘁 𝗼. 𝗨𝗻𝗶𝗼𝗻 ⚜ "Zip me." But she didn't turn around. I set down my scotch, crossed the study, and pressed my palms to my best friend's bare spine. The zipper slid up over warm skin I've spent half my life pretending not to crave, while Nia just kept rambling about her criminal pupillage. "-so I told the senior clerk, respectfully, sir, the precedent is outdated-" "Nia." "Mm?" She tilted her head, her throat exposed inches from my mouth. Marry me. I have killed a man, and I'd slaughter half the peerage by dawn if it meant you stayed with me. "Nothing," I murmured, my thumbs lingering on the dip of her waist just a second too long. "You'll ruin them." ⚜ To the British Crown, 𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐙𝐞𝐯 𝐃𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐕𝐚𝐧𝐞 of Ardenne is an untamable sociopath draped in Savile Row tailoring. The palace cleans up his wreckage, and the aristocracy walks on eggshells around his dead-eyed stare. He feels nothing for this world, except for the Queen's physician's daughter. 𝐍𝐢𝐚 𝐃𝐚𝐧𝐪𝐮𝐚𝐡 has known him since before he became dangerous. To her, he isn't a deadly spare heir; he's just her oldest friend. She steals food off his plates, rolls her eyes at his royal title, and undresses in his presence without a second thought. She has no idea that the boy she grew up with is a monster. Then an archaic 1701 succession clause gives Dorian nine weeks to marry or lose his titles forever. The proposal is pitched to his best friend as a favor, a platonic arrangement between old friends. Nia refuses until she negotiates strict terms: 365 days, separate bedrooms, her legal career untouched, and a quiet annulment by spring. Dorian signs every clause with an aristocratic smile. But he intends to honor none of them. 'Cause what the Crown Prince bleeds for, the Crown Prince keeps.

He came for the debt. He stayed to claim her soul. Viktor Volkov rules Moscow's underworld with an iron fist and ice in his veins. As pakhan of the most feared Bratva syndicate, he's used to people paying what they owe - in blood, money, or broken bones. When Viola Isley's brother Liam steals two million rubles and disappears like the spineless coward he is, Viktor doesn't waste time chasing a ghost. He goes straight for what's left behind: her. Viola never signed up for her brother's mistakes. She's just trying to survive - long shifts at the café, cramped apartment in a crumbling Soviet block, nights alone with nothing but her thoughts and the endless Moscow snow. She doesn't know that for weeks, a predator has been watching her every move. Tracking her phone. Hacking her laptop camera. Sitting in the shadows outside her window while she showers, while she sleeps, while she touches herself and whispers into the dark like she's begging for someone to hear. And Viktor hears everything. He knows the exact way she takes her coffee (black, two sugars). He knows the route she takes on the metro every morning at 7:15 sharp. He knows the soft little gasps she makes when she comes on Thursdays, fingers buried deep, back arched against the bathroom tiles. He's memorized it all, jerked off to it in the back of his Maybach more times than he can count, and now the obsession has burned away whatever patience he had left.....

There's such a sad love deep in your eyes a kind of pale jewel open and closed within your eyes.

Jackson has lived his entire life in the cold, a hollow shell of a boy carved out by years of cruelty. He was a ghost until Mira looked at him. She was the first person to offer a hand instead of a fist, and in that moment, she didn't just save him-she claimed him. He doesn't just love her; he worships the ground she walks on and hates the air she breathes that isn't his. She thinks it was a chance encounter. He knows it was the beginning of the end

W H I T E O U T ❅ The contract was simple: Two weeks. Two hundred grand. Don't fall in love. For 𝑱𝒐𝒆𝒍𝒍𝒆 𝑩𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒆, it's a desperate bid to survive her debt. For 𝑯𝒂𝒅𝒓𝒊𝒂𝒏 𝑺𝒊𝒏𝒄𝒍𝒂𝒊𝒓, the cold heir to a billion-dollar empire, it's just business. Play the adoring girlfriend for his family's winter retreat, take the money, and leave. Then a blizzard hits. Stranded entirely alone in a remote mountain estate, the icy boundaries between them melt into a bruising, suffocating heat. But when the snow clears and the contract expires, Joelle quickly learns a terrifying truth: Hadrian Sinclair doesn't let go of what's his. The phone lines are cut. The snowplow is sabotaged. The doors are locked. The blizzard is over, but Joelle's nightmare is just beginning. Because the only thing more dangerous than a man with a frozen heart, is the monster that wakes up when it thaws. ❅ "The contract has expired, Hadrian. The roads are clear. Let me go." His pale eyes dropped to my lips, his thumb tracing the pulse racing at my throat. "What roads, Joelle? It's still snowing. We're snowed in. We'll be snowed in forever."

State of Affairs ⚖︎ "You missed a talking point on page four, Governor," I said, sliding the briefing file across his heavy mahogany desk. Tennyson didn't look at the file. His dark eyes stayed locked on my mouth, completely devoid of the golden-man charm he'd just fed to a crowd of thousands. "Lock the door, Milan," he murmured, his voice low and exhausted. "You have a press briefing in ten minutes, sir. And your wife is waiting in the lobby." He stepped around the desk, invading my space until the scent of cedar and expensive bourbon swallowed me whole. His hand brushed my waist, his thumb pressing possessively against my hip. "I don't care," he breathed, his facade finally shattering. "Lock the damn door." 🏛️ To the world, 𝐆𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐨𝐫 𝐓𝐞𝐧𝐧𝐲𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐑𝐡𝐨𝐝𝐞𝐬 is untouchable. He is the state's golden man, a devoted husband, and a man with a spotless reputation. Everyone worships the ground he walks on. Everyone except his executive assistant, 𝐌𝐢𝐥𝐚𝐧 𝐊𝐞𝐢𝐭𝐚. Milan has a strict two-year plan: survive the Governor's temper, secure her recommendation letter, and catch a one-way flight to Washington, D.C. Her job description: hand him his black coffee, fix his crooked ties, and treat the most powerful man in the state like a normal human being. But her immunity is exactly what breaks him. Behind the heavy oak doors of his office, Tennyson sheds his perfect mask. He is cynical, ruthless, and spiraling into a dark, desperate obsession with the only woman who doesn't want anything from him. He becomes addicted to her warmth and slowly to her. As late nights at the office blur into a secret arrangement, Milan thinks she has the situation under control. But she doesn't know that Tennyson's public life is a PR lie. She doesn't know that the Governor has absolutely no intention of letting her go. 'Cause what the Governor needs, the Governor gets.

𝗦𝗜𝗖𝗞 𝗘𝗗𝗚𝗘 ❆ "Move, Carlisle." I kept my chin lifted, refusing to look away from the center of the ice. He didn't budge. Instead, a massive, bruised hand slammed flat against the cold glass beside my head, caging me in. The freezing air of the empty 2:00 AM arena suddenly felt suffocating. "You smile at everyone else like they hung the moon, Nadia," he murmured, his voice a low, vicious scrape. "But you look at me like I'm dirt." He leaned in, his chest brushing mine, his mouth stopping a breath away from my jaw. He left a smear of blood from his split lip on my pristine collar. "Keep looking at me like that," he whispered. "See what it makes me do." ⛸️ 𝑵𝒂𝒅𝒊𝒂 𝑭𝒂𝒍𝒍 has one rule: absolute perfection. If she loses her figure skating scholarship, she loses everything. She doesn't have time for distractions, and she certainly doesn't have time for the suspended, feral enforcer of the university's hockey team who steals her late-night ice time. 𝑽𝒂𝒖𝒈𝒉𝒏 𝑪𝒂𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒍𝒆 is the university's star but brutal hockey player. Comes from old-money roots, built for violence, and entirely unhinged. He's used to people either bowing to his wealth or cowering from his temper. But Nadia? She just rolls her eyes and tells him to get out of her way. That was her first mistake. Now, Vaughn isn't just taking up her rink. He's watching her. Stalking her. Discovering the secret, raw passions she hides from the world. And he's decided that her flawless, untouchable world is exactly what he wants to shatter, and he won't stop until every broken piece belongs to him.

| Book 1 | Of The Wicked Games Book Series "I want you," I plead. "Mmh" he murmurs as he grabs my legs and pulls them down to the end of the bed. My breath hitches and my mind clouds with lust as he kisses from my ankle to my inner thigh. "Beg," he commands, grabbing me by the throat and squeezing. MATURE CONTENT! 18+ ⚠️

In the blink of an eye, I lost everything - my mother, my home, and my life. The only thing she left me was a debt I couldn't repay and a bounty on my head, and desperate times require desperate measures. ---------------------------------------- A mischievous smile spreads across his lips as he takes a big step toward me, and as soon as I am within his reach, he grabs my hips and pulls me against him. I lay my hands on his chest and trace my fingers along the outlines of his tattoos as he maneuvers me back to his desk. My ass presses against the edge of his desk as he lets his hands run down my sides until he grabs my ass cheeks " Are you sore from last night, baby?" "I'm fine." "I hope you're not lying to me," he whispers against my lips.

"I would die for her. I would kill for her. I would bleed to death for her if she told me to. I would bleed red. I would bleed any color she wanted me to for her."