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TRIGGER WARNING: This book contains physical harm, torture, explicit contents including— Dark themes, erotic sex scenes, non consensual situations. And mature topics including trauma, loss. While this is a romance story, READER DISCRETION IS ADVISED. — — — — — — — — — — — — “You’re mine now,” he breathed those words on my neck, his hands trailing down my body and stopping only to linger on my thighs. “I’m Axel Salvatore Rossi. And whatever I want— I get.” * * * * * Bound to a man she barely knew, Olivia is confined to a world of games and organized crime. After her sister steals a priceless item, she’s left to pay— with her existence being tied with the mafia lord, Axel. What starts as an unexpected encounter turns out to be something more. Passion ignites, past secrets are revealed, and an ex lover knocks at the door to interrupt a new beginning. Olivia must make a choice— play the game, or fight the players who play dirty…

***Reader Discretion Strongly Advised. ⚠️*** In this explosive, infuriatingly hot gay romance and desire-filled compilation, reckless boys and dangerously tempting men chase the very thing they know they shouldn’t want. Their forbidden cravings blur every line, pulling them into situations far more intense than they ever expected. Every glance lingers too long. Every touch sparks something impossible to ignore. Step into a hidden world where temptation reigns, secrets burn, and self-control is constantly put to the test. Read it in the privacy of your favorite corner, because some scenes may leave you holding your breath. If you’re reading with a partner, consider this your warning: you may find yourselves stealing looks, testing limits, and discovering just how powerful a story can be. Women may find themselves captivated. Men may discover desires they never expected. BUT DON’T BLAME ME IF YOU CAN’T STOP TURNING THE PAGES. ⚠️🔞‼️

Blaze Carson always wanted to run his club free of a mate, but when Maya opened her vet clinic, he felt the pull no other female could ignite in him. Will he choose her, or will he fight their mate bond.

After helping the company secure a project worth 30 million dollars, the HR department suddenly tells me that I'm fired, and I will not be receiving any of my bonuses this year. Confused, I look for my boss, Jett Leroy, to ask him about it. However, he points his finger in my face and yells at me, "If it weren't for you being a stupid Scorpio, being the most toxic match for me and affecting the company's luck, we wouldn't have had a 30% drop in net profits this year! "I'm already generous enough by not making you compensate for all the losses you caused me! How dare you still ask me for more money? Get lost if you know what's best for you!" I smile when I read the text message notification on my phone and hurriedly sign the release documents. Jett is right. My horoscope and his definitely don't get along well. After all, I will be coming for his ass just a short while later!

“You can’t keep following me like this, Travis.” My voice trembles even though I try to sound firm. He only smirks, stepping closer, close enough that I can feel the warmth of his breath. “Then stop running, little canary.” I swear my heart skips a beat. I should push him away. I should tell him to leave me alone. But how can I, when last night still burns on my skin, and his lies are already tangled with mine? I think college will be my escape—a normal life, a chance to breathe without Juan’s shadow watching my every move. But then Travis walks in, dragging me into a dangerous game of secrets and desire I can’t untangle myself from. One text from him, one look, one touch—and suddenly, I’m not sure if I’m protecting myself from Travis, or from the truth of how much I want him. And the worst part? If Juan ever finds out, Travis won’t be the only one in danger.

My husband chooses to stay in a honeymoon suite with his secretary during a company teambuilding event. "I'm in poor health, so I need Mr. Lowe by my side to care for me when I'm taking a dip in the hot springs. I'm sure Elaine won't be mad because she's so generous, right?" My husband wraps an arm around her waist, sounding displeased as he says, "Ignore her. I'd have wasted my time on her if she's so petty!" Our colleagues chime in. "Exactly! It's best to get a divorce if your wife gets jealous so easily! Now, Ms. Klein is gentle and considerate. You're a lucky man, Mr. Lowe!" I'm the one who recruited all of these people into the company, yet they all now despise me. Since none of them like me, there's no need for the company to exist anymore. I text my parents. "Don't bother investing in the company anymore. I no longer want it."

Chase Grimm's aide-de-camp sent me a screenshot of an Instagram Live status. Guess who it came from. His new secretary. She was showing off a meticulously prepared lunch from a lunchbox. My handiwork, no less. I made it for him. The caption read: [He's a dark, cold CEO… and a shiny knight who saved a hungry princess with a gastric problem from eating mac 'n' cheese again!] Chase almost never posted on Instagram. Yet there he was, sharing a photo of a cup of ridiculously spicy mac 'n' cheese, captioned: [I have missed this.] The nerve of this prick. Then my mother-in-law sent an entirely unsolicited text: [What the heck were you doing?! You're supposed to make him a proper lunch! He can't stand spicy food!] After all that, I decided to call a supermarket. "Hi! I'd like to order 100 cups of instant super-spicy mac 'n' cheese and have them delivered to Grimm Co. Please and thank you." "Ain't I generous?"

Noah left me at the altar three times—for his precious Freya. First time? She threatened to jump off a building. Second? Said she was moving abroad. Third? Sent a text saying she was getting forced into some arranged marriage. Noah, usually Mr. Cool, freaked. Left a packed venue and turned me into a total joke. Again. I called him. "If you don't come back today, I'm marrying someone else." He laughed. "Freya's young. You're too old to be playing games, aren't you?" I clutched my phone, heart sinking. He knew Freya was bluffing. Still picked her. That's when I finally gave up. Later, after he'd calmed her down, he came looking for me. "Pick a new wedding date," he said, like it was no big deal. "It'll be even grander this time." A guy's voice cut through, smiling. "Sorry, man. Gotta get my wife on the plane."

For the 23rd time, I'm left standing at the altar as Jace Larkin hurries off because his foster sister, Celine Keaton, threatens to end her life again. The guests mock me, saying that we'll never tie the knot and attending our wedding will bring bad luck. I tune them out, holding on to Jace's promise that he'll come back and marry me. I buy his promise yet again, only for him to prove me wrong one more time. After I clean up the mess and pacify the angry guests, I reach home in the middle of the night. While passing the study, I hear Jace's voice. "Cece's always been mentally unstable. Of course, I have to stay with her. Regina will never leave me, even if I postpone our wedding a hundred times." Sorry, Jace, but I'll have to disappoint you this time. Blinking back tears, I unlock my phone and text my childhood friend, Clement Halloway. "Let's get married in three days."

On the day my sight returned, our family doctor, Anna Leone, stood right in front of me and mouthed to my husband, Don Marco Vitale, "Double the lubricant tonight. I promise it'll send you straight to heaven, my Don." Marco pressed a gentle kiss to my eyes. Then he turned away and replied with the same silent lip movements, "You little tease. That mouth of yours—and the one below—I'm crazy about them both." The two of them exchanged a knowing smile, convinced their secret was flawless. What they didn't know was that not only had my vision fully recovered—I was also fluent in lip-reading. My gaze drifted to the bottle of lubricant sitting brazenly in the wall cabinet. I said nothing. Instead, I quietly sent a single text message: [Papa, I've decided to come home.] In three days, I would vanish completely. All I would leave behind for them would be the hollowed-out fortune of billions—and that bottle of "lubricant" I had replaced with high-strength industrial superglue.