Rachael H Warren

HER: Me and my money-maker are only going to be young once. I give them three months to use my body however they see fit. Then they’ll pay me more cash than I could see in ten lifetimes. Frankly it’s a lot better than ending up on a stripper pole with a coke habit and a broke boyfriend who keeps trying to pimp me out anyway. I’ll take a one-way ticket outta that country song, thank you very much.

Getting ripped away from my bleak life wasn’t part of the plan. Caring for my alcoholic father, working dead-end shifts, and just scraping by—this was my reality. Until I was thrust into a nightmare: auctioned off to the highest bidder. That’s how I ended up with them. Maxim and Damyan Antonov. Stepbrothers. Twice my age. Feared Bratva bosses with an empire built on power and blood. I expected cruelty, control, and danger. What I didn’t expect was their protectiveness. Their desire to shield me, to draw me into their dark world—and their even darker hearts. Beneath their ruthless ...

Running away from home at 17 wasn't easy. Let's face it, though, nothing before or in the ten years since has ever been easy for me. And I'm doing okay—sorta. I just need to keep scraping by, living under the radar. Staying out of people's way, off people's minds. When a man walks through my open patio door, stepping boldly into my home and my life, I should be scared, frightened, terrified. I must be more broken than I realized because I'm none of those things. I'm intrigued—and I'm wondering if the way to take control of my life is by giving in to him.