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.

Recently moving to the west coast, Daniela Parker expected a shift when moving with her mother and brother to Los Angeles. Daniela didn't think she had anything to worry about since her brother is an A+ student, and she stayed out of people's business. But when a known gangster, Enrique González, put his eyes on her, she had trouble avoiding the charming brown-eyed man with a background of violence. *black female lead and latino male lead* #1 in the U.S 4/25/25

I dragged my nails lightly over his chest, slow, my eyes locked on his. "You told me I was in control, remember?" My voice dipped lower, sultry, daring. I leaned close enough that my lips brushed his ear. "Then say it, baby. Say you're my bitch." A dark laugh rumbled from his lips, low and sinful, the kind that made my stomach flip. His eyes didn't waver, didn't blink. "I'm your bitch," he said...calm, but hot as fuck. The words rolled off his tongue like he'd been waiting to say them, and God, the way he said it almost made me melt right there.