Mag-log inSeraphina Cole was just a broke waitress in Manhattan when the Moon Goddess mated her to Alexander Thorne — billionaire CEO, Lycan King of the Northern Packs, and the most ruthless Alpha in America. On the night she planned to tell him she was his fated mate, he rejected her. “You are weak. Human. You will never be my Luna,” he growled, in front of the entire pack. Heartbroken and pregnant with his secret heir, Seraphina disappeared. Five years later, she returns — not as a waitress, but as the long-lost heiress to the Romano Empire, New York's most powerful mafia family. Beautiful, powerful, and with a five-year-old son who has his father's icy eyes and his first howl. Alexander doesn't recognize her. But his wolf does. “You smell like mine,” he whispers, pinning her in his penthouse elevator. Now Seraphina is trapped as his assistant, forced into a contract marriage to save her son from the Elder Alpha Council and the Bratva who want her blood. He rejected a waitress. He will kneel for a Queen. But when her second chance mate — a Bratva Don — comes to claim her, will she choose revenge, or the Billionaire Lycan King who broke her heart? A dark, dramatic werewolf billionaire romance full of rejection, secret heiress twists, hidden pregnancy, mafia danger, and a possessive Alpha who will burn New York to win back his mate.
view moreThe pawn shop on Canal Street smelled like old cigarettes, cleaner, and desperation.Perfect for a nobody.The bell over the door was broken. The man behind the bulletproof glass didn't look up from his newspaper. He was older, Lycan, scarred ear, retired enforcer type. He could smell what I was — human, pregnant, heartbroken, three-week secret hiding in my belly — and he didn't care.I stood there dripping rain onto his dirty floor. My dress from Thorne Tower was torn at the hem. My ID badge was still clipped to my chest because I forgot to return it. I forgot a lot of things in the last six hours. Like how to breathe."What?" he grunted.I opened my fist.In my palm was my mother's necklace.A tiny silver wolf head. Not big. Not flashy. One real diamond for an eye, cloudy but real. My mother saved two years working double shifts to buy it for my eighteenth birthday."For your first shift," she whispered that night. "So you never forget you're Luna-born, Sera. Even if you serve coffe
I was still on the floor when she walked in.I heard her heels first. Red bottoms. I knew because I had cleaned the scuffs off them before when I served her coffee at the morning meetings. Elena Stone never looked at me when I served her.That night, she finally did."Oh," she said, stopping in the doorway of Alexander's office. Her hand was on his arm. Possessive. "It's still here."Alexander didn't push her hand away.He was standing over me. Shirt open, breathing hard, eyes still black from almost claiming me. The $500 was scattered around me like confetti. My phone screen was cracked, showing the pregnancy test photo I never got to show him.Elena looked down at me, at my cheap dress, at the blood on my lip where I bit it to stop crying."Alex, baby, who is this?" she asked, even though she knew. Everyone in Thorne Tower knew who the human waitress who brought him black coffee was.Alexander's voice was ice. "Nobody. A human mistake. I handled it."Nobody.Not Seraphina. Not even
"Mr. Thorne, your fiancée is here."June's voice cut through the air like a knife.Alexander didn't move. His golden eyes were still locked on the lobby elevator, where Leo's scent had just vanished.My heart stopped beating. Fiancée?He turned back to me slowly. The confusion in his eyes was replaced by something colder. Anger."Seraphina Romano," he said my new name like it was a curse. "You didn't answer my question. What is that smell?"I forced myself to breathe. To smile. Isabella taught me this smile — the one that makes men feel stupid for asking questions."It's called air freshener, Mr. Thorne," I said, walking past him to my desk. "We use it in buildings that aren't falling apart. You should try it in Thorne Tower. It still smells like blood and bad decisions."That hit. His jaw clenched.The elevator dinged again.And she walked in.Elena Stone.I knew her from headlines. Tall, blonde, pureblood Lycan heiress from the Stone Pack. The woman my mother used to say I could nev
Five years ago, Seraphina Cole died on the sidewalk outside Thorne Tower.I buried her in Miami.My name now is Seraphina Romano.And New York doesn't know what hit it."Miss Romano, the board is waiting."I didn't look up from my laptop. The office was not on the 87th floor. It was on the 90th. Three floors above Thorne Tower's highest office. Romano Imports owns this building now. We own half the port.I own half the port."Let them wait," I said.My assistant, a sharp former FBI agent named June, smiled. "They're sweating.""Good."Five years is a long time when you are running.After that Greyhound back to New York, I didn't go to Thorne Tower. I went to a brownstone on the Upper East Side that smelled like jasmine and old money.Isabella Romano opened the door. She was 73, 5 feet tall, wore diamonds to breakfast, and looked exactly like my mother would if my mother had ever learned to be kind.She looked at me. At the baby on my hip."Lucia said you were dead," she said."She was












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