Jack Taylor

Nataliya Barsukov was raised to obey, molded by the iron fists of her father and brothers to be the perfect wife in a world ruled by men. But when she turns eighteen, she breaks their chains—and seizes their empire. Now, as the ruthless and enigmatic Queen of the Russian Mafia in Los Angeles, Nataliya rules her city with an iron will and a twisted code of honor. Those who know her identity are either fiercely loyal… or dead. Ryan Taylor is an undercover cop, fresh to LA and burning with purpose. His mission: infiltrate and dismantle the elusive mafia queen’s empire. But when he meets Nataliya—a woman as sharp as she is stunning, with the fire of a warrior and the grace of a dark Snow White—his world starts to blur. As Ryan is pulled deeper into her world, he begins to question everything. Nataliya doesn’t sell drugs to kids. She doesn’t traffic innocents. And the organs she harvests? Voluntary. In her own brutal way, she’s cleaning the streets more effectively than law enforcement ever has. Now Ryan must face the truth: justice isn’t black and white, and the real villains might be the ones wearing badges. Torn between duty and the woman he’s falling for, Ryan must decide—will he betray the queen… or fight for her?

When the Kiss Cam lights up the stadium, Taylor expects to see strangers caught in awkward kisses—not her boyfriend, Dylan, locking lips with another woman. To revenge, Taylor also kisses the handsome stanger sitting next to her when the Kiss Cam swings to her. To her shock, he’s not just any stranger, but Aiden Kincaid—a billionaire, football star, and the soon-to-be ex-husband of the woman Dylan’s been seeing. Taylor thought she’d never cross paths with Aiden again, but fate has other plans. Not only does she become Aiden’s intern sports therapist, but he also offers her a deal: pretend to be his girlfriend.

On my 16th birthday, I treat myself to the most delicious cake I can find. On that day, before I can even take a bite, my parents, who are always at odds with each other, sign their divorce papers right in front of me. So, on my wedding day, I tell my wife, Keira Jarrett, "If you ever want a divorce, just get me a birthday cake." She hugs me tightly and promises me."Don't worry. 'Birthday' won't even be a word in our home anymore." Seven years later, on Keira's birthday, her assistant, Jackson Price, throws her a surprise party. She slaps him across his handsome, gentle face and kicks him out of Jarrett Group. That day, I am convinced I have chosen the right woman for life. But three months later, on my birthday, I find out the supposedly fired Jackson has been promoted to Keira's personal secretary. He personally delivers a custom-made birthday cake to me. I call Keira to demand an explanation, but her voice on the other end is cold and distant. "Jack meant well. Don't be a spoilsport." I freeze for a moment, then hang up. It turns out my parents are right all along. The only way a birthday cake tastes right is when it's served with divorce papers.