You know the story where the hero comes in and saves the day, rescuing the heroine right in the nick of time? This isn't that story. Instead of a knight in shining armor, he's a sexy, tatted-up Bratva boss with a reputation for being brutal and fierce. Vasily finds me after I've already been brought to my lowest—broken by cruel men until I barely recognize myself. He doesn't offer me salvation. He offers me protection and revenge. And I gladly take it. Because I don't need a knight in shining armor. I need a villain who doesn't mind getting his hands dirty.

Charming, captivating, seductive—and a cold-blooded killer. I married the Pakhan of the Russian Bratva anyway. I had to, it was part of the deal. Now, I’m faking marital bliss as I tremble with fear, and I cannot wait to be out of the clutches of this ruthless man.

I’ve been raised to be the perfect mafia wife, but when my marriage turns into a horrific nightmare, I have no choice but to leave everything behind and start a new life. I find myself alone in Ibiza—a place that swallows innocent girls like me alive. I’m robbed the day I arrive, left with nothing but a few euros and the clothes on my back.

Not only is my boyfriend dead, but he left me with a sizable loan in my name to a mafia boss. When Dimitri Federov, a handsome, loaded Russian playboy, appears on my doorstep, I panic. He wants money to repay the debt. Money I don't have. The prick offers me a solution—pay with my body. I turn him down flat, but the indecent proposal remains in my thoughts, forever reminding me of what could have been…

It was supposed to be a joke: Give my best friend raunchy toys for her bridal shower and embarrass her in front of her family. But when my package is wrongly delivered to my gorgeous, mysterious neighbor, I'm the one who ends up mortified. I sneak over to his place to try stealing it back before he finds it. The problem is I get caught mid-heist... And then he makes me stay for dinner. Dinner leads to dessert, and dessert leads to... other dessert, if you get my drift. Several courses of sweet, sinful temptation.

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.

My rock bottom is a warm beer in a smelly country bar, an empty wallet, and nowhere to sleep. A few days ago, I made a terrible mistake. I stole something valuable from very bad people. And now they're here, armed to the teeth, about to put me out of my misery. Except they don't. Because an unexpected stranger swoops in out of nowhere and saves me. Anton Ulianov. Six and a half feet of broodiness, arrogant as hell, he's the dictionary definition of "D.A.N.G.E.R." And he takes out my attackers like he's taking out the trash. One thing leads to another, and I end up in his 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.

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

She is smart and beautiful, but there is no room in the life of a mafia underboss for tender emotions. At least that's what I thought when we got married. Six years has changed a lot, but my wife thinks I'm the same merciless man she wed. To everyone else, I am. But not to her. She'll forgive me for sending her to a fertility specialist. She has to, because I will never let her go.