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One night. One mistake. One life-changing secret. Maya Thompson never planned for this. One reckless night with a stranger, and she thought she’d never see him again. Until she walks into work… and finds out he’s her new boss. Xander Blackwood is powerful, intimidating, and completely off-limits. Avoiding him should be easy. Except she’s pregnant. With his baby. Now, Xander is offering a deal—a marriage of convenience, security for their child, and a life Maya never imagined. She knows she should say no. But when he looks at her like that… saying no isn’t so simple. But just when she starts to believe they could make this work, Katrine Blackwood. Cold and calculating is dead set on keeping Maya out of her son’s life. With a powerful family against her, a baby on the way, and a man she can’t quite figure out, Maya is caught in a world she never asked to be part of. How far will she go to protect her baby—and her heart?

Bound by duty and unspoken love, Tessa stepped in to be her husband, Logan Wilferd’s comfort, to help him to collect the broken pieces of his shattered dreams and to be the mother to his son. Mending his broken home and loving him in silence, hoping one day she’d creep her way to his heart. When the woman he truly loved returned alive and unchanged, unable to deny his rekindled feelings, he asked for a divorce. Tessa didn’t beg or fight because she knew that she failed. On the day of third anniversary, she walked away, leaving behind a marriage where she was only a replacement. Only then he realized that she had left a void in his life which was deeper than the past. Desperate and regretful, he searched everywhere until nine months later, a withdrawal notification to a maternity clinic led him to the truth. She hadn’t just disappeared. She was carrying his child.

After my husband picked up his secretary and our son, they went into the hotel for a business meeting. Photos of them were trending online. I gave him a call to ask him about it, but he hung up on me impatiently. “I’m meeting a client. Obviously, we’re meeting at the hotel! Can you stop being unreasonable?” I was busy contacting IT support to retract the trending topics. Two hours later, I received a call from the emergency department of the hospital. When I reached the hospital, my son was already dead. In his hand, he was still holding a staff ID tag. The secretary’s name was on the tag. I broke down crying. My husband, Zac Davis, had blocked my number so I could not reach him. After I completed the hospital procedures, Zac finally returned my call. He sounded very angry and impatient, “Did you fetch our son? Why didn’t you inform me? Don’t you know that we’re all waiting for him to pass us the agreement? Just send the document over now!” After that, he immediately hung up and blocked my number again. I stared at the notification on my phone and sneered. I was going to snatch your clients and force you into a dead end!

My cousin forgot to log out of her messaging app on my laptop. I was helping her sign out when a notification from a group chat popped up on the screen. “We’re having family dinner tonight to celebrate Lucas improving his exam scores.” Out of curiosity, I clicked into the chat. There were only four people in the group. My dad, my mom, my brother, and my cousin. Then my brother replied, “Just the four of us. Don’t invite Freya. She’s always so petty. She even fights with Emma over an apple.” I froze. That was when I realized I was the outsider in my own family.

The day my husband was away on a business trip, I received a notification for a hotel charge. As I watched the video on my phone of him kissing his secretary on their way to the room, I dialed his number. “Honey, you need to come home right away. Mom was in a serious car accident,” I said. Before I could finish, Xavier Smith cut me off. “It’s just a car accident. We’ll deal with it if she dies.” He hung up without a hint of concern and went back to his cozy time with his secretary in their hotel room. He was completely unaware that the woman in critical condition at the hospital wasn’t my mom. It was his.

04:00 AM. JFK International Airport. I switched off airplane mode, and my phone lit up. The first notification was an Instagram story from my husband, Donovan Valentino, Don of the Valentino family, posted at 3:30 AM: a photo of Seraphina Moretti’s back, captioned, “Run 50 completed. Package delivered safe.” An hour before that, my flight had hit catastrophic clear-air turbulence, dropping two thousand feet in seconds. I’d clung to my seatbelt until my knuckles turned white, the crumpled threat letter from a rival crew pressed like a blade against my ribs. In those blind, falling seconds, one thought burned through the panic: If I live through this—if Donovan is waiting at arrivals—I’ll tear up my transfer papers to Dubai and stay. But there were no missed calls. No messages. He’d been too busy collecting Seraphina. He knew my flight details. He just didn’t care. Four years of marriage. 50 fully armed security details for Seraphina. For my 112 long-haul flights over those same four years? The most I ever got was a driver in an unmarked sedan. Even the night Gambino’s crew tailed me from Manhattan, and I spent six hours locked in a diner bathroom. He didn’t pick up until dawn, after the twelfth try. My transfer to Dubai was confirmed. The signed divorce settlement was in my bag. This was the last time I’d ever come back for him.