He calls her "Parrot." She calls him an asshole. Somewhere between stolen glances, midnight arguments, and almost kisses, they become each other's greatest weakness. When James Volkov decides she needs protection, Samaira doesn't get a choice. He's hunting something. Crossing lines. Becoming more dangerous than whatever he's protecting her from. And she's inexperienced enough to think she can handle him. Reckless enough to want to try. He's possessive. Violent. Barely controlled. She's the only thing that makes him want to lose control. Some men protect. Some men possess. James Volkov doesn't know the difference and by the time Samaira realizes it, she won't care. This is a dark romance. The hero is obsessive, morally gray, and treats emotions like tactical warfare. The heroine walks into danger with her eyes wide open. There are no heroes here. Just two broken people burning together