When I knocked on Kirill Sabatin's door, I didn't know he was the Kozlov Bratva's most feared enforcer. I didn't expect him to be the most terrifyingly sexy man I've ever laid eyes on either.. I told him off for making so much noise in the middle of the night, but if the crack of his palm against my bare bottom didn't wake everyone in the building my screams of climax certainly did. I shouldn't have let him spank me, let alone seduce me. He's a dangerous man, and I could easily end up in way over my head.

When Nikolai Romanov came looking for my brother, I emptied my savings hoping I could pay off his debt. But I didn't have even close to enough, so the bastard decided to take me instead. I didn't expect a Russian mafia boss like him to be gentle with me...and he wasn't. Not when he spanked me for daring to wear panties under the dress he chose for me, and certainly not when he stripped me out of that same dress and made me scream in his bed.

I can still remember the moment I first heard Cyrus Holt's deep, commanding voice. I didn't know who he was or about the life he'd left behind. I was just a trembling orphan on the run from a monster, and he was the man offering me shelter and not giving me a choice about it. This boss of bosses didn't assign someone else to watch over me. He slept on the floor next to my bed when I woke up scared, then spanked me like a naughty little girl when I lied to him.

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.

Had she crashed into any other man's car, she could have walked away—but she hit mine. Upon seeing the bruises on her wrist, I struggled to contain my rage. Despite her objections, I refused to allow her to leave. Whoever hurt this innocent beauty would pay dearly. As a Russian Mafia crime boss who owns Chicago's most elite gambling club, I have very creative and painful methods of exacting revenge.

D'Artagnan Conti was born into poverty, raised to be a soldier in my father's savage regime. I grew up in luxury, longing to escape my family's cruel machinations, and the young man with sapphire eyes and the voice of an angel became not just my forbidden crush but my everything. Then he was taken from me, killed in a brutal attack by our enemies. Or so I was led to believe....

Dante Marino’s the definition of beautiful destruction. Everything he touched, he destroyed...including me. We were friends. Then we weren't. He used me. Played me. Took every ounce of my affection and threw it away. He became my enemy, then risked everything to save me. Now, he wants me back, claiming he's changed - determined to make me his. Each vow, every possessive kiss, feels like he’s mine. But I can't forget that underneath his rock-hard body, seductive grin, and wicked promises, one thing will always remain true - he's my undoing.

Cain, Hunter, and Cristiano were heirs to some of the richest and most powerful families in the world, men who might as well have been kings. Ten years ago, they took an interest in me. Or at least that’s what happens in the fleeting memories I still have left after the car accident. I never expected to see them again, until the day a ruthless Chicago crime boss and two of his closest friends came to watch my show and then decided they wanted to see more of me. By the time the memory of their faces returned, I already knew I wouldn’t be able to forget them.

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.

For weeks, I've been watching her. Stalking her. Now, it's time to start playing with my beautiful little pawn. From the moment I first saw her from afar, I knew she would become my prized possession. I will gaslight her into thinking she is my obedient ward, trapped in the Victorian era. She is my unwilling captive, forced to play my sadistic game for her own survival. She will have no choice but to bow to my rules and discipline. In time, her memories of a modern life will fade. If not, she will pay a painful price.