They say a woman like me shouldn't love a man like him. I'm too loud. Too volatile. Too willing to burn everything down just to make a point. But Matthias Moretti didn't pick me for my sweetness. He picked me because I'm the only woman in this cursed city who can take his violence, match his obsession, and ride him like owning him is a birthright. He was supposed to be a holiday sin I'd laugh about later, a sweat-soaked distraction I used to bury my past. Then one savage little truth blew the floor out from under me and everything we built. Now he's tearing apart his own empire trying to drag me home, razing anything that stands between us. He shouldn't worry. I'm not hiding. I'm waiting.

I was never a woman who believed in promises. They always felt like wishes, soft things people made when they didn't know how else to hold on. Judas Mercer made them anyway. And somehow, he kept every single one. He waited for me when the world didn't. Built a life while I was still learning how to belong to one. Loved me in a way that I could finally trust. What I didn't realize was how much of our life already existed beyond me. How some bonds didn't begin with us but were already settled and familiar. She was a presence that had always been there. The woman from our past and our present woven into the spaces I thought were ours alone, standing there with us all along. Because Judas kept his promises. He just kept his secrets too. ~S~S~R~A~Y~N~E 🦋Perceived cheating 🦋Possessive MMC 🦋Dark romance themes 🦋high spice content

They told the world I was gone. My husband buried me in silence. The city learned to stop whispering my name. Time did what it always does, it moved on. But I did not die. When I return home, I don't find the life I left. I find a marriage hardened by grief, a husband colder than I remember, and a world I was never meant to see. I'm not the same woman I was either. Two years in the dark will do that to a person. It teaches you what fear tastes like. It teaches you what survives. And sometimes it teaches you why some love stories rot beautifully.

Pixie was tired of her long string of failed relationships, so she decided to take love out of the equation and become an Alaskan mail-order bride. Stark was gruff and grumpy and definitely not looking for love after he lost the woman he loved. He and Pixie shared a common goal of wrestling a living out of the harsh Alaskan bush, and as they were learning to rely on each other, their tentative friendship turned to more. Until a secret from Stark's past came to interfere with his present.

He left me on a hike in Alaska, three days before a snowstorm. He thought I'd die. I didn't. I thought I knew him. I didn't. I didn't know him at all.

𝐈𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐚 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐥 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐥, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐬𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐡𝐢𝐦𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟. . . . . . . . . . . We've all heard the tales of good and bad, the tales of innocent deceit and her hero, the tales that despite their nature, show us the beauty in contrast. But it's the tales of pure evil that get swept under the rug. The tales of deception, where cruelty is rewarded. The tales that have you questioning who the real villain of the story is. There's a simple philosophy to most thing in life; two wrongs 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 make a right. So what ensues when you put two of the worst kinds of people together? Loyalties transfer, lines blur, and hatred ignites complete chaos. She's cunning. 𝘏𝘦'𝘴 𝘳𝘶𝘵𝘩𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘴. She's dangerous. 𝘏𝘦'𝘴 𝘷𝘪𝘤𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴. She's evil. 𝘏𝘦'𝘴 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘴𝘦. Or so that's what we're told. The devil is always worse. But maybe, just maybe, she's the devil in disguise, playing his advocate... . . . . . . . . . . - 𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 - 𝐄𝐧𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬 - 𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞. -