"You got three seconds to open this door before I kick that bitch in," a deep voice growled through the wood. Zamara's heart jumped. She wasn't expecting nobody-especially not a man with a voice that rough and mean. "Nigga, who the fuck-" she started, yanking the door open. And immediately regretted it. He stood there like a shadow from hell. Tall. Broad. Tatted. And mad as fuck. A black hoodie hugged his body, revealing a Glock tucked at his hip. "Where. The fuck. Is Kyndall?" he asked low and slow. Zamara crossed her arms over her chest, attitude activated. "I don't know, and I damn sure ain't scared of you standing here mean-mugging like you somebody daddy." A smirk curled on his lips. "You should be scared, ma." Then he leaned in, real close. "But lucky for you... I don't hit women. I just fuck 'em crazy and make sure they don't walk right for three days." Her breath caught, but her mouth didn't. "Boy, please." "You gon' be sayin that from my bed soon. Watch."

All she wanted was one night. Serenity Monet is young, rich, and successful-but none of that keeps the late-night loneliness away. She's done being the good girl. Done pretending she's satisfied. One night, tired of the silence and her own touch, she slips into a nightclub with one goal in mind: find someone, take him home, and forget about everything else. What she doesn't expect... is him. Malik Cross is smooth, hood-rich, and dangerously magnetic. Their conversation is easy. Their chemistry? Instant. Serenity takes him home that night thinking it's nothing more than a steamy escape from her boredom. But Malik? He's been waiting for this moment. Because Serenity isn't just a stranger at the club. She's his obsession. His fantasy. The woman he's been watching from afar for months. And now that he's finally inside her world, he has no plans of leaving. She wanted one night. He wants forever. Even if he has to take it by force.

Janeisha "Neisha" Bambi has always survived by staying small. Head low. Mouth shut. No waves, no risks, no getting caught up in the kind of business that comes with bodies, secrets, and street names that echo. But all it takes is one night-one favor for her best friend-to slide her straight into the orbit of Seven "Saint" Carter. Saint is discipline wrapped in quiet menace. A man the streets don't just respect-they fear. The type Neisha promised herself she'd never look at twice. He doesn't chase. He doesn't beg. He doesn't explain. Yet somehow... he does all of this for her. And when that calm, unreadable gaze settles on Neisha, her careful world starts to crack. Now Saint's patience is running out. Neisha's defenses are falling apart. And the pull between them is starting to feel less like a choice and more like fate. He's trying to shield her from the life he lives. She's trying to decide if loving him is salvation... or self-destruction. Because in a world built on loyalty, violence, and revenge; love is the most dangerous thing you can touch.

She was supposed to die in that warehouse. Instead, she became his. Jaslyn was just a girl in the wrong place at the wrong time-kidnapped, brutalized, left for dead. But when Cain showed up, dragging hell behind him, she didn't just get rescued-she got recruited. Now she's not the victim. She's the weapon. Trained by the most feared man in the city, Jaslyn moves through blood and betrayal like she was born for it. The girl who used to flinch now pulls triggers. The girl who used to beg now gives orders. And Cain? He doesn't just want her sharp-he wants her loyal, cold, and just as savage as him. Bodies drop. Enemies burn. And the city starts whispering her name with the same fear they whisper his.

When a self-made beauty boss tries to leave her toxic past behind, she crosses paths with New York's most feared kingpin who's already decided she'll be his, whether she's ready or not.