"𝑯𝒆 𝒊𝒔 𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒄𝒕 𝒎𝒆. 𝑩𝒖𝒕 𝒍𝒂𝒔𝒕 𝒏𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝒊 𝒎𝒐𝒂𝒏𝒆𝒅 𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒏𝒂𝒎𝒆 𝒘𝒉𝒊𝒍𝒆 𝒕𝒐𝒖𝒄𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒎𝒚𝒔𝒆𝒍𝒇." I was born untouchable. The spoiled, sharp-mouthed daughter of one of the most feared men in the city. The girl draped in designer clothes, guarded by killers, with a last name that makes people flinch. And one day? This entire empire will be mine. But until then, I'm content breaking rules, causing chaos, and driving the men my father hires to protect me absolutely insane. And none of them hate me more than Elias Cross. My personal bodyguard. Six-foot-four of brooding, dangerous sin in a suit. Paid to protect me. Forbidden to touch me. I can see it in the way his jaw clenches when I tease him. In the way his cold stare darkens when I push too far. It was forbidden for him to touch me & for me to seduce him. It started as a game. A wicked little power play between a spoiled mafia brat and the man sworn to keep her in line. Now, it's spiraling into obsession. Stolen touches. Dark threats. And possessive promises whispered in the dark. Some men protect you from monsters. Some are the monsters. And Elias Cross was mine the moment he laid eyes on me.

Sabrina Reed is Nathan Alden's wife, but not by his choice... EXCERPT****** "I found her like this, sir," the guard announced. Sabrina stirred at the voice, blinking groggily and rubbing her eyes to chase away the blur clouding her vision. A towering figure stepped into focus. "What are you doing out here, Sabrina?" Nathan's voice was sharp, cutting through the fog of sleep. His jaw was tight, words pressed between clenched teeth. She blinked again, brushing hair from her face as she sat up. "What are you doing out here?" he repeated-louder this time, more demanding. He stood before her in a jet-black suit and white button-up shirt, sleeves rolled just enough to expose forearms clenched across his chest. His eyebrows were drawn tight, his eyes narrowed. "I came back late last night and... the guard was gone, so... I just fell asleep," she said softly, eyes lowering under the weight of his glare. He dismissed the guard with a silent nod, then stepped closer. "Where were you last night?" he asked, voice taut with suspicion. She yawned, trying to blink herself fully awake. "I've been volunteering at the animal shelter." "Get up," he ordered, tone clipped and harsh. "You expect me to believe that? Don't animal shelters close at a decent time?" She remained seated, her legs too stiff to move. "Yes, but-" "Get up!" he barked.

He was born for war. She was built to heal. But when his mouth finds comfort in her breast, the line between hunger and need begins to blur. A mafia king, bleeding and broken. A doctor with a body that won't stop giving. Love was never supposed to feel like this-desperate, raw, and addictive.