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“Be my woman and warm my bed,” he said, with a smirk. "And you must follow the terms." The terms: no pregnancy, always remind him to use protection, constant permission for even the simplest things—even visits to her sick mom—and never denying him intimacy. Sophie Thompson should have walked away. She should have told him where to shove his suffocating terms. But when her mother’s life hangs in the balance, Sophie signs away her freedom to the masked billionaire whose kiss feels like sin and whose touch makes her tremble. She thought it would be just a deal. She thought she could survive his world of wealth and power. She was wrong. Because Julian has secrets buried in darkness, an ex-fiancée who wants him back, and a past that could destroy them both. And when Sophie breaks the one rule she never meant to—falling for him—she’ll learn the deadly truth that hides behind the billionaire’s mask. #1

3.5 Stories in one. She hides behind ugly suits and fake names. He's done trusting women. When they meet in a masked sex club, neither realizes they've been fighting each other across boardroom tables for eighteen months. At Taylor Industries, she's Joy Smith—the frumpy CFO who drowns her curves in shapeless polyester and wearing a wig. At home, she's the forgotten wife of a cheating lawyer who hasn't touched her in so long she's starting to wonder if she's broken. When she finds hot pink lace panties stuffed in her couch cushions...definitely not hers, it's not heartbreak she feels. It's freedom. Grayson Taylor doesn't do relationships anymore. Not after walking in on his actress fiancée with another woman. Now he channels everything into hostile takeovers and board meetings, especially the ones where his overcautious CFO fights him on every goddamn acquisition. Joy Smith is brilliant, infuriating, and funny when he pushes all her buttons. But Honey is tired of being invisible. Tired of never having felt real pleasure. So, when her best friend gives her the details of The Velvet Room—Manhattan's most exclusive masked club—she promises herself just one night. One night to find out if her husband's right, if she really is frigid, or if she's just never been touched by the right hands. She doesn't expect the masked stranger who claims her the second she walks in. Doesn't expect the chemistry that ignites between them, the way he makes her body sing, or the orgasms that leave her shaking. Doesn't expect him to hand her an email address with one command: "Only me. No one else touches you."

After escaping the clutches of her abusive and violent ex-husband Curtis Black, Cass is plagued with the reminder of what she endured, reliving the nightmares when certain things trigger her. Until she meets the world’s most dangerous man, the Mafia King Matteo DeAngelis. Everyone fears this man and how far his influence reaches. He is untouchable. No government or authority can touch him, for everyone fears the retaliation if they tried. But Cassandria is not afraid of him. She feels safe being around him. He is the only one who can bring her out of the dark and into the light. Cassandria is his light to his darkness, just like he is hers. Two people lost in the darkness of their world that can save each other. Sounds beautiful doesn’t it? However, Matteo knows the truth of who Cassandria is and her family heritage. That it is her destiny to become the first female Don or Donna. But there is something more that could break them apart for good. Shatter their lives completely and make her question his true intentions. What will happen when Cassandria learns the truth? Will she leave and become stronger? Or will she just roll over and accept her new reality? Will her demons from her abusive past return to haunt her, or will she destroy them all? Tesoro contains things that some will find triggering, such as mentions of her abuse, rape, torture, kidnapping, degradation, and humiliation. This is slightly dark, so be warned.

Cassie lived locked in the attic of her parents until the age of 18 when her mother finds someone who will make an arranged marriage between Cassie and their son. But Cassie is not what they think she is. Cassie is thrown into a new life with a husband she does not know. Will they find out her secret and embrace her or throw her to the street with the rats.

When I hand in my resignation and pack up my things, I make sure to box up my 100,000 dollars' worth of camera equipment. However, my colleague Reed Lanrod, an intern who joined the company after me, immediately throws a tantrum. "What are we supposed to use if you take all that equipment with you? You're already leaving, and you're still leeching off the company? That's not right!" I keep my cool and patiently explain, "I bought every single piece of this gear with my own money. It's got nothing to do with the company." Reed, who's been eyeing my equipment for the longest time, storms off. Not long after, the boss, Karen Halfpenny, calls me into her office. "You've been keeping the equipment in our office, so it's been using our electricity and taking up our office space. That makes it company property. You're not taking a single item with you." I can't help but laugh at the sheer audacity. When I first joined the company, Karen told me to treat the company like home. So, to get the job done right, I gradually spent 100,000 dollars of my own money to buy camera equipment and store it at the office. Now she's calling it company property? Fine. I immediately call the IRS and report the company for tax evasion and fraud. They insist the 100,000-dollar setup is theirs, yet they've never paid a single cent of tax on it. In that case, let's see what the IRS agents think about that.

My father loved silence. He believed noise was the mark of lesser people, so he installed a decibel meter in our home. Speaking above 40 decibels meant that we would have to pay him 10 dollars, laughing above 60 decibels meant 50 dollars, and crying or throwing a tantrum was a serious offense at 100 dollars per second. The year I turned four, I fell and broke my arm. I did not make a single sound. I bit down so hard that I cracked two teeth, but I saved thousands in noise fees. He praised me for it and called me a "high-value child," one that was worth the investment. I treasured that compliment and observed the rules carefully, keeping the house wrapped in suffocating silence. Then came the stormy night a thief broke in. He had a knife and was creeping toward my mother as she slept, and I watched it all from the gap in the wardrobe where I was hiding. I wanted to scream. I wanted to shriek and wake my father, to do something, anything. However, my eyes drifted to the decibel meter on the wall, and my hand found nothing but an empty pocket. I did not have enough allowance. One scream would cost hundreds, and I simply could not afford it.