Anesia Preston

Two little girls stand with their heads bowed in my living room. I’m told they’re my granddaughters. Daisy is nine, and Alice seven. Daisy is the spitting image of her mother. This is the first time I’ve met them since my daughter and I fell out after she married that waste of space, Vince. They’ve come to live with me because their mother — my daughter — was murdered. In her own home while they slept close by. I think Vince killed her. But the police can’t prove it. I’ve always known he was no good. He treated my daughter like dirt. I said he’d cheat on her — but she wouldn’t listen.

Couture Yates has always followed life's rules by the book, never once rebelling until she met Khari Compton. The handsome but tortured young boy who immediately stole her heart, only to misuse and abuse it time and time again. Nothing or no one could ever pry her from his grasp, not even his own mother, until tragedy struck, changing the course of her and Khari's lives as they knew it.

My husband is dead. I attended his funeral. I watched his casket be lowered six feet into the ground. (Actually, it may have been only five feet, but that still seems like more than enough.) And then we ate an array of finger sandwiches and deviled eggs and miniature beef wellingtons that cost more than my first car. My point is, Grant is gone. And so are all his many, many deep, dark secrets which I never really ever bothered to ask him about. He is never coming back.

On a beautiful island in the Caribbean, a woman with a checkered past has retired from a life of crime. She is now raising her son, trying to spare him from the ills that her former life provided. However, in a blink of an eye it all changes. When a wealthy tourist gets entangled with her son, it forces Aries to show who she really is and her old connections are called.