A stand-alone, MMFM why choose romance from the author of the bestselling New York Ruthless series.

I was never supposed to fall in love with Gabriel Sullivan. He has always been off-limits in more ways than one. But, for all the reasons we should be apart, there's one that keeps drawing me back to him—he is the only man I've ever loved. Every stolen glance, every smile, every brush of his fingertips only make me want him more. Samantha Donovan used to call me her angel, but the things I'd like to do to her make me feel like the devil.

I hate Dante Moretti. He is cold, calculating, and vicious. It’s no secret that he wiped out his former fiancée and her entire family on the eve of their wedding. He’s the kind of evil that makes even devils cry. But that’s not why I hate him.

It's not a regular party, but instead, my wedding. To Angelo Rizzo. A coldhearted man who's feared by all. Including me. Turns out my stepbrother owes the Cosa Nostra money, and I'm being used to repay his debt to Angelo Rizzo. Do I have a choice? No. Not when it comes to matters concerning the Cosa Nostra. Three hours later, I have a new shiny wedding ring on my finger and a husband I'm terrified of standing by my side. Yep, my life just took a turn for the worse.

“I need you to pretend to be my girlfriend.” When those words left the lips of Damien Shaw, my childhood nemesis, I should have told him to kick rocks right then and there. But sadly, his scheme to impress his boss left me with something to gain from it too—getting my meddling mother, who was obsessed with my love life, off my back just in time for my parents’ thirtieth wedding anniversary celebration in Hawaii.

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.

Working as Ruslan Oryolov’s personal assistant is the job from hell. After a long day spent tending to the billionaire’s every whim, I need some stress relief. So when I get home that night, that’s exactly what I do. Problem is, my thoughts are still stuck on the bosshole, who’s ruining my life. That’s fine—because of all Ruslan’s many sins, being gorgeous might be the most dangerous.

One wardrobe malfunction. Two people who don’t belong together. Three awful words: “Be my wife."

What would you do if you walked in on your husband cheating? I'll tell you what I did: Ran out the door with nothing but the clothes on my back. A month later, I'm broke, jobless, almost homeless. But then, while filling in as a waitress at a fancy restaurant, I trip and land in the lap of a gorgeous stranger.

Beckett Langfield is grumpy, rich and hates kids. I’m an overworked, overstressed, and overweight single mom. The only reason we’re getting married is because he needs to fix a PR disaster and I am available. As in sitting next to him, in a bar, when he has this brilliant idea. Considering I just got divorced, I’m not looking to do that again. But Beckett makes me an offer that I literally can’t refuse, so I don’t.

They thought she was unsuitable as a bride because she was mute. I thought that made her perfect. Silent. Invisible. I could pretend she didn’t even exist.

I’m not supposed to fall in love with my husband. It’s not part of my plan. Forgive me. Those were the first words Santos Augustine spoke to me before we sealed an unbreakable oath. A contract signed in blood binding me to him as payment for my father’s sins.

To be fair, I didn’t know he was my boss when I slept with him. I thought he was just the kind stranger offering me a place to stay. But one night in Misha Orlov’s hotel room got me way more than I bargained for.

I learned very early on that every life matters—no life is insignificant, most especially not my own mother’s, whose life was cruelly slain. I vowed to do what I can so that no one has to feel as if they’re nothing at all when they lose their loved ones. So when I’m forced into a marriage with Dominic Luca—the man next in line to be the head of the biggest crime family in all of New York—the ring he puts on my finger is a gun to my head with his finger on the trigger.

Our first meeting was at a nightclub, and it was something straight out of my most romantic fantasies. My ovaries exploded at the sight of the Russian God. And by God, I mean he was ripped, tall, dark, and deadly attractive. There were enough sparks between us to light up a city. Then an explosion blasted through the nightclub, and we got trapped together for three hours, sharing our most personal details...everything but our names. Two years later, our second meeting is the complete opposite of the first. It's clear Misha Petrov, a Russian enforcer for the bratva, despises me.