Anónimo

I've been secretly married for eight years. Why is it a secret? Because having an open marriage splashed all over headlines isn't a good look. We'd constantly be under the spotlight, our lives and relationships judged. That's not the kind of hockey player I want to be known for, especially because we play for different teams. Although most of my relationships outside of my marriage are passing, I've been pining over my best friend and teammate for years. Years! Just as I decide that maybe it's time to see where this leads, management throws an unexpected play in our faces.

Vasili Nikolaev. Dangerous. Deadly. And most of all, devastating. He’s the king of New Orleans. Ruler of the Russian mafia and my best friend’s oldest, mouthwatering brother. On Halloween night my last year in college, I gave him everything. My body. My heart. My soul. He burned it all to the ground with the first ray of dawn.

I have one job in this arranged marriage, and that’s to seduce my husband. It should be easy; I’m the heiress to a transatlantic fortune, bred and raised to make a good match. I’ve spent a lifetime building up my endurance, my discipline, my dedication to my god and my church. The danger lies in falling for the devil who put his ring on my finger—a mistake I made years ago, and can’t afford to make again.

Grief. I’ve never battled with the raw, debilitating pain that comes with it. Then a twist of fate hits me out of nowhere, and I can barely keep from drowning. It’s like weights tied to my ankles in the middle of a raging ocean. I’m helpless, with no way to swim back to the surface. But fate is crueler still, bringing my stepbrother back for the first time in years.

When I discover my boyfriend is cheating on me, I move out right away taking what I love most – my dog. As I fly out the door, I make sure to swipe the thing my ex loves best–the VIP tickets he won to a hockey game, complete with the chance to spend an evening with the city’s two biggest NHL stars. I can’t wait to snap selfies with my ex’s idols and rub it in his face.

Tiernan de Haas doesn’t care about anything anymore. The only child of a film producer and his starlet wife, she’s grown up with wealth and privilege but not love or guidance. And when they suddenly pass away, she knows she should be devastated. But has anything really changed? She’s always been alone, hasn’t she? Jake Van der Berg, her father’s stepbrother and her only living relative, assumes guardianship of Tiernan who is still two months shy of 18. She's sent to live with him and his two sons, Noah and Kaleb, in the mountains of Colorado.

The first letter arrived the day my husband was buried. It was postmarked from the state penitentiary, and contained a single sentence: I’ll wait forever if I have to. It was signed by Dante, a man I didn’t know. Out of simple curiosity, I wrote back to ask him what exactly he was waiting for. His reply? You.

Kieran Murphy is an Irish mob boss and one of the most powerful men in Boston. When he walks me home, people step aside out of respect for him. He could have any woman he wants. So why does he have eyes only for me? Is it how he has to lift my chin with his fingers to keep my eyes level with his when he scolds me and how I cover my bottom instinctively when he tells me that I've earned a spanking? Or is it how I quiver at the thought of everything I'm too ashamed to beg him to do to me? Maybe it's all of those, but I'm pretty sure there's something else too.

Everyone warned me that the CFO of McCord Media was a nightmare to work for. I knew it going in, but I figured I could keep my head down and stay under Cole McCord’s radar. I figured wrong. Because a month before I started as his assistant, Mr. Ruthless and I spent one scorching hot night together in bed.

It was an innocent mistake; she knocked on the wrong door. It was mine. If I were a better man, I would've just let her go. But I'm not. I'm a cruel bastard. I ruthlessly claimed her virtue for my own. It should've been enough but it wasn't. I needed more...I craved it. She became my obsession. Her sweetness and purity taunted my dark soul. The need to possess her nearly drove me mad. A Russian arms dealer had no business pursuing a naive librarian student. She didn't belong in my world. I would bring her only pain. But it was too late...she was mine and I was keeping her.