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Her body went still. Then his voice dropped lower, laced with venom and promise. “By the time I'm done with you, you'll wish you never said …I do.” Angelo placed his hand on the small of her back, pulling her closer in… closer than fear, closer than escape. He leaned in, his smile picture perfect for the cameras. “Now kiss your groom,” he murmured. Then…. His breath ghosted over her lips before sealing the moment with a kiss… cold, calculated and final. This wasn't marriage, nor love. Rather, it was war. It was the beginning of her sentence. Millicent felt it in her bones, the quiet threat beneath his touch. She hadn't just married a man. She had stepped into the arms of her executioner. “Smile for the crowd, Mrs. De Angelis,” Angelo whispered in a low and poisonous voice. “Because soon… they'll be watching you burn.” *Click* The cameras flashed. ~~~~~~~~ To save her brother, Millicent Romano agreed to marry the one man her heart never forgot, Angelo De Angelis. But he isn’t the boy she once knew. He’s a Don now. A powerful and ruthless Don who was hell-bent on revenge. To Angelo, she’s nothing more than a pawn, poisoned gift from an enemy empire. The wedding was never about love… it was about war. But desire doesn’t play by the rules of vengeance, and neither does the past they share. As vengeance dives deep, obsession dives ten times deeper. As secrets unravel, there's only one question left…. When love is laced with blood, someone's bound to bleed. In a world where loyalty kills faster than bullets.... Who will fall first?

I was raised to be invisible. In the kingdom of Avelaine, a maid’s life is meant to pass quietly—unnoticed and unchanged. I knew my place in the halls of Hawthorne Palace, until Prince Roman Davenport looked at me as though I was something more than a shadow. He belonged to the crown. I belonged to silence. What grew between us was never spoken aloud. It lived in careful glances, restrained words, and moments stolen where no one was meant to see. Loving him was dangerous—not because of scandal, but because it asked for something I was never meant to have. In a world ruled by duty and inheritance, some desires are not forbidden by law… but by reality itself.

Asya is the most promising ballerina the Royal Ballet has seen in years. Wildly ambitious, back-breakingly disciplined, and immensely driven, she has only one objective: prima ballerina. There is nothing she won't do to earn this once-in-a-generation title. But behind her ballerina grace she hides dark secrets of an inhumanly strict mother, pushing her body to cruel limits, and serial hookups with male dancers. Roman Zharnov is the star of the Russian ballet: young, successful, arrogant, beautiful, and worst of all, talented. He's come to London for a fresh start after earning himself the nickname 'the bad boy of ballet'. It is during a rehearsal that his eye falls on Asya, a nineteen-year-old soloist with spitfire in her eyes and a raw talent capable of silencing an auditorium. But Asya has a partner, and she wants to stay as far away as possible from the Russian prodigy with a reputation that won't seem to leave him alone. In the competitive world of classical ballet Asya is climbing the ranks, earning coveted parts and building a name for herself as a promising soloist. But all the while she is playing a dangerous game behind the curtain. Roman has found the one ballerina that can keep up with him and wants her to partner him, but he will soon realise that animals can't do what she does.

When a pampered socialite in post civil war Boston seeks adventure and romance, she finds peril, heartache, and tragedy along with it. Answering an ad in The Matrimonial News, she secretly marries by proxy, but is widowed before she gets to meet her husband. The fact that she's naïve and unskilled in the ways of love when she finally encounters the man of her dreams only adds to her situation.

“You are so hot, doll,” He gruffed. “I have no idea how I managed to hold on for a fucking week.” “So you find me attractive?” I half-moaned and half-asked. “Attractive is an understatement,” Niccolo mumbled against my tit. “You are the sexiest woman I’ve ever laid eyes on.” Pleasure tinged with elation simmered within me at his response, causing my panties to become more saturated with addictive lust. “I want to eat you out, doll,” Niccolo uttered, as he removed his mouth from my breast. “Will you let me?” + When Talia Wilson’s dormitory is suddenly gutted by fire, she is forced to stay with her father’s hot, younger friend, Niccolo Gonzalez. There, she familiarizes herself with the walking sex dream of a man, who she has secretly loved since she saw him at her eighteenth birthday dinner, three years ago. Based on Niccolo’s casual demeanor, Talia convinces herself that he doesn’t feel the same way about her and nothing scandalous could ever happen between them. However, what she doesn’t know is that beneath Niccolo’s suave facade lies his intense sexual longing for her. What happens when alcohol mixes with their passionate desires for each other one night, causing them to surrender to their forbidden attraction toward each other? Will they forget about it or will they continue playing a wild game of lust?

When Alexander Smith stands in front of me and says he's going to marry someone else, that's when I realize he's been reborn too. I remember our 20 years of love in our past life. A plane crash. And then, rebirth. "This is to save Sophia," he says. "In our past life, she was sold to a Vostmark oligarch after her father's political scandal. Not long after, she took her own life due to abuse. I can't let that tragedy happen again, so I need to get engaged to her." As he speaks, he hands me an orange prescription bottle. "If you take this, you'll forget me for a little while. You won't feel the pain. It's just seven days. Once her father's scandal blows over, you'll stop the medication and your memory will return. Then I'll end the engagement and officially propose to you." I stare at the bottle, knowing it's a lie. Not the part about Sophia's suicide. The lie is about the drug. He thinks it only causes temporary memory loss. But I know better. The suppressant causes permanent damage to emotional memory. The seven-day countdown isn't the time it takes for my memories to return. It's the time it takes for my love for him to die.