Dark – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read

Dark – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.xoxobooks.com Wed, 20 May 2026 17:51:01 +0000 en-US hourly 1 https://wordpress.org/?v=6.9.4 http://www.xoxobooks.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/09/favicon.png Dark – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.xoxobooks.com 32 32 Bound by Lies (Fatal Alliances #1) Read Online Lylah James http://www.xoxobooks.com/bound-read-online-lies-fatal-alliances-1-read-online-lylah-james Wed, 20 May 2026 17:51:01 +0000 http://www.xoxobooks.com/bound-read-online-lies-fatal-alliances-1-read-online-lylah-james Genre: Alpha Male, Crime, Dark, Mafia Authors: Lylah James Series: Fatal Alliances Series by Lylah James
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Total pages in book: 108
Estimated words: 105679 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 528(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)

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From Amazon bestselling author Lylah James comes a new dark, arranged-marriage romance about a mafia princess and the cruel man who did everything to ruin her in an effort to make her…his.

For the longest time, I had been a pawn between two empires built on blood.
I had been promised to Matteo, who was supposed to be my future.

But it was his brother who ruined me.

Adrian Salvatore—reckless, merciless, carved from sin and evil. The brother no one dared to control. The one who looked at me like I was always meant to be…his.

He stole my first kiss beneath the moonlight, right there at my engagement party.
And he never stopped.
Not when I begged.
Not when I threatened.

Until one night…

One mistake. One unforgivable moment that shattered everything I was raised to protect. My modesty, my virtue, my family’s honor.

Somehow I found myself bound to Adrian in ways I never wanted.

But he didn’t believe in love.
Everything he had ever done was driven by vengeance.

Adrian wasn’t going to protect me.
Instead, he had promised to break me.

Somewhere between the hate and fear became a reckless obsession.
And with that obsession came more destruction.
We were both damned, but only one of us would survive the monster we’d become.

BOUND BY LIES is book one in the dark and twisted FATAL ALLIANCES series. Please read the trigger warnings

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

PROLOGUE

Men have always controlled my life.

First my father.

Then my brother.

And soon my husband.

Every aspect of my existence was carefully orchestrated by them. What I wore, what I ate, where I went to school, and who my friends were.

I was the perfect and poised daughter of Caterina Morelli. The obedient daughter of Santino Morelli. The silent sister of Damon Morelli.

I was incapable of denying them. I never had the choice to say “no.”

They said walk; I walked. They said smile; I smiled. They said jump; I jumped. Even if it was jumping to my own ultimate, pitiful demise.

I merely lived in the shadows of the Morelli family. Usually, the forgotten one. The girl no one saw, so I lingered in the silence — my voice unheard and my heart woeful, until my dreams turned into decaying fragments.

I looked at myself in the mirror, and I saw haunted eyes staring back at me. A stranger, a cruel disguise. A decorated facade.

My mother died today. A fatal car accident that seemed too perfectly orchestrated. My father’s enemies were smart, and they were coming for our family with every intention to eradicate our whole lineage.

I should have felt something: heartbroken or devastated, but there was an emptiness gnawing at my soul.

“Serafina.”

The sound of my name in his gritty voice jostled me out of my thoughts. Damon appeared in the mirror’s reflection, towering over me. “You were taking too long,” he said, as if to explain why he was in the ladies’ washroom. Not that anyone would ever dare to stop him.

Damon Morelli always did what he wanted.

He touched the large bow on the side of my hat, fixing it so that it was no longer lopsided. “You have to present yourself better,” Damon admonished. “Mother has taught you better than this. You are to be sophisticated and refined, Serafina.”

I was being berated for a lopsided bow at my mother’s funeral.

Of course, there was no other choice than to be perfect.

“Yes,” I uttered quietly.

“This is your first public appearance in more than three years. Do not disappoint Father.” His hand slid down to my arm, wrapping his fingers around my bicep.

I nodded.

I knew the rules and consequences.

“Matteo is here and he’ll be seeing you for the first time. You are to impress him.”

I nodded again.

“Do you understand, Serafina?” He squeezed my bicep, not hard enough to leave a bruise but enough to make me inwardly flinch. Though, I showed no reaction to my brother.

Docile. Gentle. Compliant.

“Yes, I understand.”

Damon turned me around so I was facing him. I met his eyes through the black net veil attached to my expensive mourning hat.

My brother stared at me for a long second before he let go. When we walked out of the washroom, he offered me his arm, and I dutifully took it.

We would appear as one unit.

Brother and sister.

Two grieving siblings.

We walked into the church where dozens of faces from the New York Famiglie stared back at us. I kept my chin low, avoiding their deceptive eyes.

Gooseflesh peppered my skin and my lower spine tingled.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

Damon and I took our places beside our father; I on his left and my brother on his right. The priest began his sermon after my father nodded in acknowledgment.

“We gather today with heavy hearts, in faith and in sorrow…”

His voice faded.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

My skin tingled again the way it did when I first walked into the church. Not because I knew the Famiglie were looking at me.

No—

Because I felt the warmth of his gaze before I could even see him.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

A part of me wanted to turn around, to look for him. To meet his gaze with my own.

But I didn’t move.

I was Serafina Morelli.

Obedient. Graceful. Faithful.

The seconds ticked by, and I felt him. Watching me. Learning me. Tempting me.

There was something devious about this game of his.

He thought he was in control.

But he was wrong.

This was my story—

CHAPTER ONE

Serafina

My earliest recollection of a funeral was my grandfather's. I knew of him, that was all. He was practically a stranger to me. We never had a bond, but he loved my brother dearly. I always wondered why our grandfather never gave me any chocolate or hugs, as he would to Damon. Then, I grew older… I realized it was simply because I was a girl.

My worth was nothing in his eyes.

He wanted another grandson, a spare to the heir… but instead I was a liability. A hindrance to our lineage.

I was too young to remember much of his death. Being only knee high I was lost in the shuffle of the day, no one cared to check on me or see how I was doing. I had merely faded in the background.

But not today.

No, this time… I was more than just a shadow. I had a dozen sets of eyes on me.

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Crimson Shore (Blue Arrow Island #2) Read Online Brenda Rothert http://www.xoxobooks.com/crimson-shore-blue-arrow-island-2-read-online-brenda-rothert Wed, 20 May 2026 17:50:53 +0000 http://www.xoxobooks.com/crimson-shore-blue-arrow-island-2-read-online-brenda-rothert Genre: Alpha Male, Dark, Suspense Authors: Brenda Rothert Series: Blue Arrow Island Series by Brenda Rothert
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Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 110757 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 554(@200wpm)___ 443(@250wpm)___ 369(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >114

Power. Betrayal. A love that could save them all—or destroy everything.
Briar Hollis made her choice, but Blue Arrow Island doesn't forgive. It doesn't forget. And it sure as hell doesn't let you leave unscathed. The war for control of the brutal island is escalating, and now that Briar has allies at her side, the stakes have never been higher.

A new player has entered the game.
When a new prisoner arrives on the island's blood-soaked shores, the fragile balance of power shatters. The rules have changed. Survival now demands impossible choices. Briar is still learning to wield the power the island gifted her—but time is running out.

He shattered her heart. Now she's all that stands between him and oblivion.
The war between the island's ruthless leaders has turned personal, and Briar stands at the center of a storm whose destruction won't end at the shore. The man who destroyed her—whose lies cut deeper than any blade—harbors a power so volatile it could consume everything. But it's killing him from the inside out.
To defeat the darkness rising from the island's depths, Briar must do the trust the beautiful, broken man who taught her that love and betrayal are two sides of the same coin

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

PART ONE

1

“When my brother put his newborn daughter in my arms for the first time, I loved you from that moment. Anything I do to keep you safe is well worth it. You’re all I have left.” - Excerpt from an unsent letter by Virginia Marsden to her niece

Briar

I don’t feel great about punching my best friend in the face so hard she staggers and drops to the ground, but it had to be done.

“Okay,” Amira huffs, quickly rolling to her stomach and getting into a crouch. “I get it.”

She’s a quick learner, but I’m a ruthless teacher. I spent a week coaching her in hand-to-hand combat—now it’s all execution. And her lessons are like the ones my father gave me and my sister. Unfair, but effective.

Your opponents won’t tell you a hit is coming. You’ll be on your feet one second and on your back the next, and before you take another breath, you’ll be dead.

I carry my parents with me. Dad’s combat lessons were grounded in his love for us. He wanted me and Mae to be able to defend ourselves against any opponent. I want the same for Amira.

She gets to her feet, fists up to protect her battered face. The girl can take a punch, but I don’t want her to have to take them from men who are twice her size and much stronger than either of us.

“First strike usually wins,” I remind her. “Don’t hesitate.”

She goes for my knees with a sharp kick. I evade it, grabbing her foot, twisting it, and shoving her back to the ground. Dirt from the training arena clouds into her face when her palms land.

I’m on her, lightly pressing the toe of my boot into her side. “I’m about to fuck up your insides. Move, Amira!”

She groans and starts crawling away.

Zara, watching us while she fletches arrows, tips her chin at me. “Fighting weaker opponents gets you off, doesn’t it?”

“Eat shit.” I shoot her a disgusted glare. “We’re training.”

“You don’t have to injure people to teach them. I never broke a bone learning.”

She’s never letting me live down Amira’s broken finger from a couple weeks ago, even though it was Amira’s fault.

“That’s probably why I’m a better fighter than you,” I fire back.

“You mispronounced arrogant bitch.”

I turn, closing the distance between us. If it’s an ass kicking she wants, I’ll deliver.

Someone grabs a fistful of the back of my T-shirt and pulls me backward.

“Don’t take the bait, Briar.”

I don’t even have to turn. That smoky, deliberate voice belongs to Nova, who never loses her temper the way I sometimes do. Zara knows how to set me off.

Nova’s right. I shake my head and go back over to Amira, who’s on her feet now.

“Zara. Training drills.”

The clipped command forms a fist around my heart. Even after three weeks of us not speaking to each other, Marcus is never far from my mind. And due to both of us working in camp security, he’s usually physically close, too.

Everything is different now. I used to fight my urges to jump into his arms and beg him to take me back to our room for slow, sweaty sex. Now I have to keep myself from punching him in the balls every time I see him.

The knife still feels freshly buried in my heart. Every day of the past few months on Blue Arrow Island has been a battle to survive. Life on the mainland is a struggle under the regime, too, but at least the rules are clear.

The island is a fresh tropical hell where death awaits in many forms. The cutthroats in the Rising Tide tribe. Genetically modified animals. Controlled climate extremes. The ticking time bomb inside all of us from aromium, the experimental compound Marcus helped create.

It almost killed him. The days he spent unconscious, hanging between life and death, were agonizing. I’ve never felt a betrayal as deeply as his, but I didn’t want him to die. He needs to bear witness to the destruction he helped cause.

“So I should go for the knees, or no?”

Dusty, sunbaked dirt is caked into the sweat on Amira’s face, blood from her nose swirled onto her cheek from her wiping her hand over it while we sparred.

“It’s not a definitive yes or no. If they’re protecting their face, you can’t go for the throat. Your goal is always to escape. But if you can’t—like if someone is holding your arms on the ground, knee the groin and bite anywhere you can. If you can get your opponent onto the ground, taking out a knee will keep them from chasing you.”

“Amira,” Marcus calls.

We both look at him, my eyes locking onto his. I used to see caged desire there. A leader first and a man second, the needs of the camp usually trumping what he wanted for himself. There’s still an intensity in his gaze that makes my heart pound wildly, but I don’t know what it means. Is he angry? Sorry? It’s him not even trying to talk to me that I’m the most incensed over.

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My Sweet Poison Read Online Zoe Blake http://www.xoxobooks.com/my-sweet-poison-read-online-zoe-blake Wed, 20 May 2026 17:50:36 +0000 http://www.xoxobooks.com/my-sweet-poison-read-online-zoe-blake Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, Dark, Erotic Authors: Zoe Blake Advertisement

Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 84635 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 423(@200wpm)___ 339(@250wpm)___ 282(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >87

No one is innocent.

We were meant to be collateral damage.
We became their obsession instead.

Pierce Worthington needed someone to blame. I was convenient.
When his brother dies in a scandalous wreck, threatening to drag the Worthington name through the filth, Pierce does what his family has always done.
He finds a sacrificial lamb. Me.

With a single phone call, he has me arrested for murder.
With a single glance, he decides prison is no longer enough.
He doesn't just want me punished.
He wants me desperate. Dependent.
Owned by the man who holds my freedom between his teeth.

But I'm not the only woman caught in a monster's game.

Greyson Stockford knows where the bodies are buried because he put them there.
When my best friend gets too close to the truth, he doesn't threaten her. He takes her.
Locks her away where no one can hear her scream or fight back.
Because breaking her will is only the beginning.
Making her crave the man who destroyed her life? That's the real torture.

Two ruthless billionaires.
Two women who refuse to be broken.
Nothing is as it seems.
No one is innocent.
And the most treacherous enemy may be the one sharing your bed.

My Sweet Poison is a standalone Gothic billionaire dark romance featuring enemies-to-obsession, forced proximity, and heroines who resist the men determined to own them

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

CHAPTER 1

MADISON

No one could hear my screams.

I swept my arm along a polished sideboard, sending a priceless Ming vase and several gold candlesticks tumbling into his path as I dove for the staircase.

“Get away from me!”

My right foot slipped off the edge and bent at an awkward angle, snapping the platform heel off my shoe, my forearms painfully breaking my fall when they collided with the lower step.

Strong fingers wrapped around my ankle and wrenched me downward.

I shrieked and grasped at the spindles of the banister, but the dust-covered wood slipped through my fingers.

My palms burned from the scrape of my hands along the thick wool carpet covering the stairs as he dragged me down, my dress sliding up around my waist. I desperately kicked out with my other leg, trying to dislodge his hold.

He flipped me onto my back, the hard edge of a stair slamming into my spine, and propped his forearms on either side of my head, prowling over me like a lion about to tear out the throat of his kill.

Rubbing his face along the edge of my hairline, he inhaled deeply before rasping against my ear, “I missed this little game of ours, Madison.”

A low growl vibrated in his throat, and he shoved his hand between my legs. “Remember how I would make you cry?”

Remember? No amount of time would erase the memory of his cruel touch.

With my eyes squeezed shut, I turned my head to the side and dug my fingernails into his shirt, trying to shove his weight away from me.

He swept his tongue over my cheek. “I did so love the taste of your tears.”

Bile burned the back of my throat as my stomach heaved. Everything clenched inward. My body folding into itself the way it always had.

The way it used to around him.

I winced as he tore at my panties. “I never did get a chance to fuck you. Doesn’t seem right given all the trouble you’ve caused. If you’re a good girl and spread your legs, I might show you mercy and kill you quickly.”

I couldn’t let this happen. Not now. Not after how hard I fought to survive him and his⁠—

Forcing my eyes open, my gaze fell on a broken vase shard that had fallen within reach. Distracted by lowering his zipper, he didn’t notice me sweep my arm out, reaching for the modified weapon.

I turned the piece of porcelain in my hand until the sharp edge was facing outward. Picking my moment, I swung my arm out, catching him on the side of his face.

He screamed and clutched his cheek, blood welling and dripping between his fingers.

His body pitched sideways.

I forced him off me and turned onto my stomach. As fast as I could, I gathered my skirt up above my knees and crawled to the quarter landing. Gripping the open jaws of the grotesque wood-carved gargoyle newel post, I hauled myself upright. Holding my breath, I shifted my hips, putting weight on my right leg. My ankle held, it wasn’t broken.

I tore off both shoes and stared down into the darkness, searching for his form. The air in the sealed wing was bitter cold, carrying the musty staleness of dust and old wool. Below, a sheet-draped grandfather clock loomed and for one horrible second my heart stopped before I realized it wasn't him.

On the other side of the massive estate house, the safety of the ballroom beckoned. Filled with the clink of glasses and surrounded by the sweet scents of fresh-cut flowers and the warm buttery pastry of passed canapes as the strains of the violins from the orchestra rose above the chatter of the guests. All of it—just out of reach.

My gaze scanned for any signs of movement while I strained to hear the creak of a floorboard or the crunch from a shard of porcelain being crushed beneath his shoe.

Where was he?

After his initial outcry, he had gone eerily quiet.

There!

My heart seized.

A trick of the light?

No.

A shadow detached from the gloom below.

“Did you really think you’d get away with it, Madison?”

The ghostly voice held a hint of amusement layered with arrogant reprimand.

I pressed my hand over my mouth to suppress a whimper of fear.

“Did you think I wouldn’t find out what you were planning?”

My feet were silent on the thick carpet as I shifted deeper into the shadows above him. Digging my nails into the gargoyle, I slid behind its protective bulk, as if the dragon would somehow spring to life and rescue me.

With narrowed eyes, I peered down the staircase into the vast entryway but could only make out the indistinct shapes of the chairs which lined the walls, and the empty round table in the center.

The stained glass window over my shoulder depicting a vengeful St. George fractured the wan light of the moon. Instead of casting bright jewel-toned light, it spread a mottled crimson stain of red and burnt orange along the floor. When he stepped into the distorted pool of light, it twisted his features into a misshapen, grotesque mask of a man.

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Forbidden Little Game (Crimson College #4) Read Online Raleigh Ruebins http://www.xoxobooks.com/forbidden-little-game-crimson-college-4-read-online-raleigh-ruebins Wed, 20 May 2026 17:50:10 +0000 http://www.xoxobooks.com/forbidden-little-game-crimson-college-4-read-online-raleigh-ruebins Genre: Dark, M-M Romance Authors: Raleigh Ruebins Series: Crimson College Series by Raleigh Ruebins
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Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 80643 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 323(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >80

Sharing a college campus with my infuriating stepbrother should be easy.
Until he crosses a line with me, and we’re pulled into a twisted, chaotic game.

Noah is straight. Preppy. Rich as sin. Everything I’m not.
When I catch my stepbrother rifling through my belongings like a stalker, it sparks something inside me I can’t shake.
Let the frat boy stalk me a little. I’m going to stalk him right back.
One night, the mutual hatred sparks between us. We collide, and he gets a taste of me he can’t quit.

What we’re doing is bad. Wrong. …Completely consuming.
But I witness something I shouldn’t one night when Noah is attacked by a violent man.
When a stranger lays a hand on my new obsession, I explode.

Protecting him is my salvation.
Now we’ve crossed a line forever, and there’s no chance I’m losing this game.

No one can hurt him. Mafia ties run deep in Onyx Society, and we’ve stepped on the wrong rival’s shoes.
Noah is broken. Vulnerable. I see the sea of emotion behind his perfect exterior.
He claims he still despises me, even when we’re close. But with his life under threat, I risk everything to defend what’s mine.

When he says I’m crazy, I say:
I am. And you are, too.

Because I know we’ll both do whatever it takes to win this forbidden game

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

Prologue

TORIN

From the first day I meet Noah, it’s obvious that he’s the type of person who always gets what he wants.

Noah Vancliff.

Son of Phillip Vancliff II.

Grandson of Phillip Vancliff I.

I already know his bloodline, his net worth, his legacy, before I ever look him in those sleepy, deep blue eyes.

And when I do, I know he can’t stand what he sees.

I don’t belong.

Just because his father is fucking my mother, does that mean Noah owes a single thing to me?

I’m a threat to that stable, generational legacy, like a Molotov cocktail chucked straight into his family tree.

I’d be lying if I said I didn’t get a twisted satisfaction when he sees me for what I am: someone who will never give him everything he wants on a gilded platter like the rest of the world does.

If we’re cursed to become stepbrothers, then I’m going to play this like a fucking game.

Noah Vancliff always gets what he wants… but me?

I always win.

1

Noah

When things are going a little bit too well, that’s when I know something catastrophic is coming.

Like here in this gleaming, grand hotel lobby.

I could dip, but skipping your own father’s wedding to your lovely new stepmother would be frowned upon in my family, to say the least.

So would screaming my lungs out.

And setting myself on fire.

And murderous intent.

All things that have crossed my mind since this day began.

“Yo,” Wes says, waving his hand in front of my eyes. “Earth to Noah. You okay?”

I take a sip of the strong macchiato I’ve been nursing for too long. “Other than feeling like there are crosshairs on my back? Like I’m prey being hunted for slaughter? Besides that, I’m peachy.”

And there’s a good reason for that.

“Dramatic,” Weston says, gingerly reaching for the paper coffee cup in my hand. “How many shots of espresso have you had today?”

“Two,” I tell him. “Plus another three, but those were hours ago. The light espresso roast they have at this hotel absolutely fucks.”

“So maybe the reason you’re feeling ‘hunted’ is because your veins contain more caffeine than blood at this point? Give me that.”

I clamp my fist around the cup as he tries to pry it from my hand for a moment, before deciding he’s probably right and giving it up.

I pull in a long breath. “Can you do me a favor, Weston?”

“Anything.”

“Punch me right here repeatedly,” I ask, pointing to my temple. “Maybe I can be unconscious for this wedding.”

His expression is so kind it gives me a guilty pang in my chest. “I’d rather give you a hug, dude. Hey, what’s the Latin word for how you’d describe today?”

Weston loves the fact that I can recite things in Latin, and I’m happy to provide the entertainment. I search my brain for the right one.

“Calamitas.”

“Calamity? Noah, it’s not going to be that bad.”

I exhale. “You know exactly how bad it’s going to be.”

Wes gives me a sympathetic look. “Don’t let the fuckface win like that. Just make it clear to Torin that you’re not going to let him push you around. Easy.”

Hearing his name makes my jaw clench.

Torin Jensen is about to become my stepbrother, the moment my dad gets married today.

On paper, Torin is perfect.

That’s how he likes it to seem.

But he’s made it his job to fuck with my sanity since the moment Dad started dating his mother four years ago.

It’s like he’s been auditioning for the role of angelic stepson with my dad even before the wedding was planned. He just got back from a one-year volunteer position where he built tiny homes from scratch, one by one, with a charity group that my father donates millions to every year.

Perfect.

Torin is so good at woodworking that he was also featured in a photoshoot on Lumber Depot’s Instagram page three months ago. Shirtless, of course. Hauling two-by-fours over his shoulder.

People in the comments called the shoot “10 Things I Hate About Shirts,” saying he looked like a young Heath Ledger.

Fucking.

Perfect.

The company page got thousands and thousands of thirsty comments, and they raised many thousands for charity, too.

Just hang a halo over his big, blond head.

“How long do you think it will be before someone here asks him for a selfie?” I ask Weston.

Weston snorts. “Torin would probably eat that shit up.”

“Of course he would. He loves attention.”

“I mean, the photoshoot was for a good cause. Even if it ended up being a showcase for his abs.”

I lift my eyebrows. “You’ve seen the photoshoot?”

Weston scratches the back of his head. “I mean, it was all over the internet for a few days. At least… my corners of the internet. I’m pretty sure everyone saw it at least once.”

“Lovely. Maybe everyone in the frat has seen the shirtless psycho, too.”

Weston exhales, giving me a sympathetic look. “Okay. I’m just going to say it. We all looked at it. Multiple times. We just didn’t want you to know about it because you and Torin are so…”

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Her Chains Her Choice (Last to Fall #1) Read Online J.A. Huss http://www.xoxobooks.com/her-chains-her-choice-last-to-fall-1-read-online-j-a-huss Thu, 14 May 2026 07:50:27 +0000 http://www.xoxobooks.com/her-chains-her-choice-last-to-fall-1-read-online-j-a-huss Genre: Alpha Male, Dark, Insta-Love, Mafia Authors: J.A. Huss Series: Last to Fall Series by J.A. Huss
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Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 91489 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 457(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >95

Some cages are chosen, and some monsters are worth the chains.

Emmaleen

Twenty-one days until homelessness, nineteen demerits, and one chance at $31,750.

I am laser focused on my goal of getting the hell out of Riverview, PA—and Giovanni Bavga, mob boss, secret poet, in possession of a Lambo and the world’s most amazing green eyes—is my first-class ticket. All I have to do is everything he tells me for the next seven days.

My chains, my choice... until choosing him became the only freedom worth having.

Giovanni

Power isn’t something you take—it something given.

The demerit system was supposed to control Emmaleen Rourke but apparently, Little Miss Take didn’t get the memo. Now I'm the one losing control. Men like me don't fall first. We don't fall at all. In the circles I run in, caring about someone is the most dangerous mistake a man can make.

My game, my rules... until breaking them for her became the only win that mattered.

The Last to Fall series is an intense deep dive into the psyche of possession, obsession, and what one man will do to keep the woman he loves alive. Because some cages are chosen, and some monsters are worth the chains

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

1

Surrender is the purest form of power.

People imagine power as something seized—taken by force, stolen through fear, won through blood. But the truest power requires none of that. It doesn’t chase. It doesn’t beg. It doesn’t raise its voice.

Power waits. It invites. It stands perfectly still while the world rearranges itself to please it.

The weak mistake silence for mercy, composure for restraint. They never understand that patience is the sharpest blade—and that compliance offered freely cuts deeper than any command.

The offering, not the taking, is where power lives. Every bowed head, every averted gaze, is a confession of who holds dominion.

In the end, power isn’t proven in conquest, but in what is willingly given.

And the moment they offer themselves without knowing why—that’s the moment you own everything.

The theory holds.

The world has never failed to prove it.

I hand the valet my keys. His eyes widen as they should—the Aventador isn’t transportation; it’s a statement of intent. He’s maybe twenty-three, maybe twenty-four. The cheap polyester uniform doesn’t fit his shoulders.

“Keep it close,” I tell him, then go still until he meets my eyes.

It takes three seconds. He swallows hard. “Yes, sir.” He clutches the fob like it might detonate, then looks at the car like it might bite.

It should intimidate him. That’s the point.

I turn away, adjusting a cufflink, and look up at the Riverview Hotel. It stands like a mausoleum to better times—ornate molding crumbling at the edges, roofline not quite plumb, flaking paint on the balconies overlooking the river, ironwork curled like lace gone to rust. Once it hosted senators and starlets; now it clings to dignity with the stubbornness of the dying.

Preservation Society. Ironic.

The security guard at the door straightens as I approach. Badge crooked. Rental-company uniform, not hotel staff. Temporary hire. He feigns formality, but his eyes dart to the exits in case I become a problem.

The ballroom reveals itself like a map. Four exits: main entrance, service door by the stage, kitchen access to my right, and—most would miss it—a fire door disguised behind decorative paneling. Two guards posted opposite each other. No visible weapons, but a bulge under one jacket suggests otherwise. Amateur.

Champagne sweats in buckets of melting ice. Dom Pérignon 2008—decent vintage, wrong temperature. They’ve been waiting too long, trying to appear prepared. They weren’t.

The room falls quiet as I enter. Conversations die mid-sentence. Silence spreads like infection. Sixty-seven people, and not one knows what to do with their hands. The men look at their shoes. The women touch their jewelry—a universal tell for insecurity disguised as grace.

Mayor Harmon approaches, flanked by two councilmen—budget and zoning, both forgettable.

“Mr. Bavga!”

Harmon’s handshake is clammy, grip compensating with pressure. I apply twenty percent more and hold three seconds longer. His smile twitches.

“We’re so pleased you could join us tonight,” he says, voice loud for the audience. “Your family’s contributions to the restoration project have been invaluable.”

He has no idea what he’s talking about. The “project” exists only in press releases. The real investment remains invisible.

I say nothing. Silence is always the first test.

“The councilmen and I were just discussing the next phase of development,” he tries. A lie. They were discussing me. Which means they’ve already failed.

A waiter appears at precisely the right moment—young, efficient, aware of tension. He offers a single flute of champagne. Baccarat crystal. Not hotel standard. Borrowed for the event.

I take it, slip a fifty into his palm without looking down. Competence deserves recognition. I trace the rim with my thumb—a habit from childhood. I won’t drink; I never drink in public. But illusion has its uses.

He nods once and vanishes. The only person here who understands his role.

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Stay With Me (Dangerous Obsession #1) Read Online Nikki Sloane http://www.xoxobooks.com/stay-with-me-dangerous-obsession-1-read-online-nikki-sloane Thu, 14 May 2026 07:48:05 +0000 http://www.xoxobooks.com/stay-with-me-dangerous-obsession-1-read-online-nikki-sloane Genre: Alpha Male, Dark, Forbidden, Suspense Authors: Nikki Sloane Series: Dangerous Obsession Series by Nikki Sloane
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Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 104185 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 521(@200wpm)___ 417(@250wpm)___ 347(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >110

When the spotlight turns deadly, survival becomes the performance of her life.

A single gunshot rings out, shattering Laurel Hayward’s debut as a professional dancer—and witnessing an assassination is only the beginning of her nightmare. The ruthless killer will stop at nothing to find her—determined to possess her or silence her forever.

Enter Deputy U.S. Marshal Jason Dunn: handsome, confident, and far too good at getting under Laurel’s skin. Keeping her alive is his job, but keeping his distance? Impossible. Alone in the secluded safe house, the line between duty and desire blurs into something too powerful to resist.

Laurel needs Jason to survive. Jason needs her to finally capture the ghost who’s haunted his career for years. But as their attraction ignites, the obsessed killer returns with a deadly final act . . .

And it could cost them everything.

* Stay With Me was previously published in 2014 as Stay by Karyn Lawrence (Nikki’s alter ego). This completely rewritten version features new content, more spice, and a point-of-view switch.

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

Prologue

NOW

LAUREL

My hands reached behind to grasp the cold metal railing while I sucked the pre-dawn air into my lungs.

What the hell?

I stood precariously on the ledge of a balcony with my toes curled over the edge. This, and my death-grip on the wrought iron at my back, were all that kept me from plunging to the rocks far below.

Water lapped against the cliff. I hated heights. So why on Earth was I out here?

I tried to steady my breathing and keep my gaze up, but my legs shook. I shivered in the cold wind, making the railing rattle. A panicked whimper escaped from my lips as I pivoted on my heel, turning until the rail slammed into my stomach, but I didn’t care.

At least I could cling to two things now. The wrought iron, and the illusion I was safely back on the stone balcony.

I took another breath and launched myself up and over the railing. It wasn’t pretty, but both feet hit the ground, meaning I was still alive. My teeth chattered because I was only wearing silk pajama pants and a camisole top.

Across the balcony, a robe was draped over a patio chair.

I slipped my arms into it as I tried to remember why I’d taken it off, but sharp, agonizing pain sliced through my head. I moved my fingers up to the nape of my neck, and then up into my hair where it ached the most.

There was a large wound near the crown of my skull.

It wasn’t fresh, but not yet healed, either. Something foreign and sharp was embedded in my skin. The hair around it felt like it had been shaved at one point but had started to grow back. I turned to face the house as reality washed over me.

Nothing was familiar. Not this place, not my clothes, not how I got here. I pushed a strand of brown hair out of my eyes. Holy crap, not even my hair color seemed right. The force of it all almost knocked me off my feet.

I couldn’t remember.

It was all just empty.

I trembled and cinched the robe tighter, eyeing the railing. What had I been doing out there?

A single word echoed through my mind, which was terrifying . . . Suicide.

“Hey.” His voice was soft, but I jumped anyway. “What are you doing?”

The man used the heel of his palm to grind the sleep from one eye. He wore a plain t-shirt and flannel pajama pants, and his mahogany hair was askew. Taller than average, and likely in his thirties. I peered at his face, tried to force myself to recognize him. He was attractive and seemed to know me, so surely I should remember him.

Nothing.

“What are you doing up?” he asked.

I didn’t say anything, because what would I say?

“Well, we’re awake. You want coffee?” He turned to head back in through the French doors he’d strolled through.

I stayed deathly quiet. Everything was too overwhelming.

When I didn’t respond, he stopped and focused on me, concern washing through his expression. “What is it?”

I held up a hand and gestured to the surroundings. I still couldn’t bring myself to choke out anything, but the panic in my eyes must have spoken for me. The unease in him grew ten-fold and, when he tried to approach, I shuffled backward instinctively.

It caused him to stop short and look defeated. “You don’t know who I am.”

“I don’t.” It came out as a whisper, but the words crushed him all the same.

“We were in a car accident. A pretty horrific one, so it’s good you don’t remember it. That’s our silver lining to this whole thing.” He drew in a heavy breath, perhaps considering his next words. “There was a significant bleed in your brain, and they had to keep you in a medically induced coma for a week. The day they discharged me and you were still under was the worst day of my life.”

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Wicked Sanctuary (The McCarthy Family Legacy #2) Read Online Jane Henry http://www.xoxobooks.com/wicked-sanctuary-the-mccarthy-family-legacy-2-read-online-jane-henry Thu, 14 May 2026 07:47:47 +0000 http://www.xoxobooks.com/wicked-sanctuary-the-mccarthy-family-legacy-2-read-online-jane-henry Genre: Alpha Male, Angst, BDSM, Dark, Erotic, Mafia Authors: Jane Henry Series: The McCarthy Family Legacy Series by Jane Henry
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Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 103878 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 519(@200wpm)___ 416(@250wpm)___ 346(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >109

I’ve been watching her for six years.
Bianca White is sunshine and innocence.
I’m the monster they whisper about in the dark.
And she hates me, for good reason.
I told myself I’d stay away. That I’d keep my distance and just make sure she was safe. But on the night of her college graduation, I have no choice.
So I take her.
I cage my little bird in the woods where no one can touch her. Where no one can take her from me.
Yet she doesn’t take it easy. She fights me and begs to go back to the man who will kill her.
She’ll learn, though, that some cages are gilded for a reason, and that anyone who wants to harm her will have to come through me first.
Bianca didn’t know it, but she was always mine. Now everyone else will too.

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

Chapter One

Six Years Earlier…

Ashland

I love the taste of blood in my mouth during a fight. Proof I’m alive, that I’m winning. It tastes like victory.

I spit it on the floor of the ring, and red splatters across gray. The echo of cheering is like distant thunder, the smell of sweat and Guinness flooding my senses. The abandoned warehouse is officially a gym, but the underground knows that beneath the official exterior is where the real action takes place. This is where men like me come to fight, and I fucking love it.

Lawless. Violent. Cathartic.

My ribs ache where the Cork bastard caught me early, a hit I'll feel tomorrow. But when he comes in with a right hook, confident, thinking he's got me figured out, I duck. I drive my fist into his kidney. Once. Twice. Three times in rapid succession, each hit precise and targeted. I feel something give under my knuckles.

And I love this. God help me, I love this.

He grunts and tries to pivot away, but I'm too fast for him. He swings wild, desperate now, and clips my jaw. Blood floods my mouth, the familiar metallic taste sweet and satisfying. My opponent’s desperation is my first taste of victory.

Beautiful.

He grins, breathing hard, and his guard drops.

“Come on, then,” I say, my voice rough. I tap my jaw where he hit me. “That's all you’ve got?”

He charges.

I sidestep and drive my elbow into the base of his skull. Not hard enough to do permanent damage—I'm not trying to kill the fucker—but hard enough.

He staggers, and his knees buckle.

I'm on him before he can recover. Left jab to the temple, right cross to the cheekbone. I feel the satisfying crack under my knuckles. Another shot to his fucked-up ribs, and this time, something cracks.

“Finish him, Ash!” Tiernan shouts from somewhere behind me, and it's all the encouragement I need.

I drive my knee into his stomach. The air leaves his lungs in a sick whoosh.

He drops face-first on the canvas. The ref's beside him instantly, checking him, and I step back. My chest heaves. My hands throb. There's blood on my knuckles, and I can't tell if it's his or mine.

His crew screams for him to get up, but he won't, not after what I did to his ribs. Wouldn't be wise, would it?

“Time.” The ref's voice echoes through the warehouse, and the crowd erupts.

I don't hear them when I'm playing, don't hear them when I'm fighting, but I do after I win a damn fight.

“McCarthy! McCarthy! McCarthy!”

The McCarthy family's name is one of their favorite cheers, and I fucking love it. I love being part of something bigger, knowing I stand in solidarity with my brother and cousins.

Today, I don't move or raise my arms, don't celebrate. I just stand there, knuckles split and bleeding, waiting for the roar to fade. It doesn't, really.

I've found that violence just sits in my chest like a living thing, coiling tighter and tighter until the next fight. I've come to welcome it.

“Ash.” Tiernan's voice cuts through the roar of the crowd. “Get out of the damn ring, lad, will you?”

I turn and find him at the ropes. Tiernan's been in my corner since before I was tall enough to throw a proper punch. My mother's brother, near enough my age to feel like a brother himself. He has a family of his own now, but he's always been my mentor.

“Y'alright, lad?” he asks as I duck through the ropes. He tries to dab blood off my face with a rolled-up rag, but I swat his hand away and reach for the bottle of water—swig it, swish it in my mouth, and spit out blood. He reaches for my hands instead and starts unwinding the tape.

“Aye. Grand.”

“That wasn't grand, Ash,” he says, giving me the look of pride mixed with worry I've come to recognize. “That was fuckin' brutal.” He leans closer, and I can see the gray mixed with ginger in his hair, the lines around his eyes, and the way his brow creases. I remember when I thought he was invincible—the day I saw him in this ring and decided it would be me one day. Tiernan’s a legend here in Ballyhock.

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Callous Love (New York Underworld #5) Read Online Charmaine Pauls http://www.xoxobooks.com/callous-love-new-york-underworld-5-read-online-charmaine-pauls Thu, 14 May 2026 07:47:41 +0000 http://www.xoxobooks.com/callous-love-new-york-underworld-5-read-online-charmaine-pauls Genre: Alpha Male, Chick Lit, Dark, Mafia Authors: Charmaine Pauls Series: New York Underworld Series by Charmaine Pauls
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Total pages in book: 132
Estimated words: 127249 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 636(@200wpm)___ 509(@250wpm)___ 424(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >132

He can never know about the life we created in a bed of lies, because the man I called my lover is the monster who killed my parents, and I’m next on the list.

From USA Today bestselling author Charmaine Pauls comes an intense and steamy emotional dark mafia romance with tropes including secret baby, second chance, forbidden love, forced marriage, betrayal, revenge and redemption, possessive alpha male, touch her and die, and a strong female lead.

I know what it’s like to be used. Dante ruined me for the sake of his revenge. He destroyed me for his selfish gain without thinking twice.

What he doesn’t know is that we created something pure and innocent in that bed of lies. We made a new life, one I have to hide from him at all costs, because the man I called my lover is the cold-hearted monster who killed my parents, and I’m next on the list. He left me with no choice but to run.

For five long years, I’ve been hiding, barely surviving, always outsmarting the men who hunt me while Dante’s ghost stalks my shadows and haunts my thoughts. And now that he’s caught a whiff of my scent, he’s like a bloodhound on my trail.

He’s out to finish what he started. I’m the last obstacle standing between him and the fortune he stole from my family. But this isn’t a fairy tale, and I’m not that girl anymore. I decide how my story ends.

Callous Love is the second book in the Callous Duet and concludes Tatiana and Dante's story. Callous Desire must be read first. The duet is part of the dark mafia romance New York Underworld series (Books 4 & 5). You don't have to read the other books in the series to follow this duet

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

Chapter

One

Tatiana, age nineteen

* * *

“You’ll marry

Joni Stein. I don’t want to hear another word about it. The contract is signed, so it’s as good as cast in stone.”

My father’s dismissive wave as he indicates my time is up makes me shrivel inside. He’s already returned his attention to his laptop, my presence in his study ignored or forgotten.

Angry tears stream down my cheeks. I’m shaking with the injustice of my father’s decision and my helplessness to change that fate.

All my life, I’ve been a good, obedient daughter, always doing what I’m told and what’s expected of me. I’ve been a cum laude student with straight As in all my subjects. I sit through tedious dinners and parties I have no interest in attending without complaining, wearing the dresses my parents deem appropriate. I say please and thank you. My parents’ friends tell them how lucky they are to have had it so easy with me during my adolescent years. But if I were hoping that my exemplary behavior and hard work would make my father proud or win his approval, I was mistaken.

He looks up from his screen, irritation written all over his face. “You’re still here.”

“Father, please.” My voice cracks. “Mr. Stein is fifty years old.”

And he’s fat and ugly, not to mention vulgar. He always looks down the front of my dress or pinches my backside when my mom isn’t looking. But I don’t say that.

“Exactly.” My father stabs a few keys on his keyboard. “That’s why he has no time to waste in producing an heir.”

“But he’s married,” I exclaim.

“His wife is dying. It’s only a matter of time.” My father hits enter a couple of times and squints behind his glasses. “Just as well, seeing that the useless wretch is barren.”

“But…” I swallow through my tears. “That’s improper.”

“We agreed to wait until your twenty-first birthday. The old hag should kick the bucket by next year if not sooner, and then he’ll mourn the customary year. Nothing about that is improper. It’s all done by the book.”

“Please, Father, I beg you.”

He slams a hand on the desk, rattling his teacup and the plate with his afternoon kolaczki cookies. “Begging is beneath you. You’re a Teszner. We do not beg.”

The violence makes me jump. “I just meant⁠—”

“That’s enough,” he barks out. “You’ll do your duty for this family like the rest of us. Now get out of my sight.”

Blinded by my tears, I stumble from the study.

“And close the door behind you,” my father calls after me. “I’ve had enough disruptions for one day.”

Suppressing the urge to slam the door, which will only earn me a punishment, I do as my father commands.

My mother waits on the other side. “Oh, Tiana.” Her soft blue eyes are brimming with tears. “I’m so sorry.”

It takes every ounce of willpower I possess not to melt down. “Did you know?”

Averting her eyes, she nods. “For a couple of months or so. I did my best to change his mind, but he wouldn’t listen.”

She tries to hug me, but I dodge her embrace and rush across the foyer.

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Possessive Enemy (Kings of Mafia #8) Read Online Michelle Heard http://www.xoxobooks.com/possessive-enemy-kings-of-mafia-8-read-online-michelle-heard Thu, 14 May 2026 07:47:38 +0000 http://www.xoxobooks.com/possessive-enemy-kings-of-mafia-8-read-online-michelle-heard Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Dark, Mafia Authors: Michelle Heard Series: Kings of Mafia Series by Michelle Heard
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Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 85834 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 429(@200wpm)___ 343(@250wpm)___ 286(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >89

From USA Today & Wall Street Journal bestselling author Michelle Heard comes a new STANDALONE, full-length MAFIA ROMANCE novel.
My father orders me to seduce a man most people are too afraid to even look at.
Georgi Torrisi.
Head of the Torrisi family and a Cosa Nostra Capo.
A brutal and powerful man who rules his world with violence and absolute control.

And I’m supposed to make him want me.

Turns out my father thinks he can use Georgi to get to Atanas Petkov, our family’s sworn enemy. If Atanas continues to grow in power with Georgi’s help, it will mean the end of my father’s reign of terror, and I’m the bait meant to make one of the most dangerous men in New York lower his guard.

Do I have a choice?
No.

Hours later, Georgi Torrisi is chained in my father’s basement while the man I helped betray is beaten and tortured.
My already messed-up life takes a turn for the worse because I didn’t expect the guilt.
I didn’t expect the way his eyes still burn when he looks at me.

And I definitely didn’t expect myself to unlock the chains and set him free.

The moment Georgi walks out of that basement, he turns into a violent monster that’s out for revenge. Once the hallways of my family home are painted red, he takes my daughter and me with him.

There’s no running.
No hiding.

And now all I can do is pray I survive being at the mercy of the man I betrayed.
STANDALONE: A Mafia Romance full-length novel

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

Songlist

Spotify

Holding Out For A Hero – Nothing But Thieves

Stronger – Thunderstorm Artis

Do You Really Want To Hurt Me – Denmark + Winter

Oats In The Water – Ben Howard

Such Great Heights – MILCK

Bring You Back – Gold Brother, LIIV

Here We Come – NOCTURN, Lexxi Saal

Knocking On Heaven’s Door - RAIGN

With Arms Wide Open – Tommee Profitt, Nicole Serrano

Love The Hell Out Of You – Lewis Capaldi

Family Tree

GEORGI TORRISI

↓

Family Business: Cosa Nostra

Father: Renzo Torrisi (Hunted By A Shadow)

Mother: Skylar Torrisi (Hunted By A Shadow)

Sister: Raya Torrisi

Best Friends: Augusto Vitale (Craving Revenge) & Adriano Rizzo (Vicious Devil)

Godfather: Franco Vitale (Craving Danger)

NINA PAVLOVA

↓

Family Business: Bulgarian Criminal Organization

Daughter: Simona Pavlova - Simi

Father: Boris Pavlov

Mother: Deceased

For clarity, Pavlov is the masculine form of the surname, and Pavlova is the feminine form in Bulgarian.

Chapter 1

Nina

Georgi Torrisi; 35. Nina Pavlova; 27.

Bracing myself for whatever fresh hell my father has decided to unleash today, I push the heavy door open and step inside the office.

Boris Pavlov never calls for me unless he needs something, and it usually means I’ll be forced to suffer through whatever horrid scheme he has planned.

God help me.

The office smells the same as always. Expensive leather, cigar smoke, and whiskey. Scents that seem permanently soaked into the dark wood panels and thick carpets.

Scents that make my stomach churn with dread.

Lifting my eyes, they lock on the man who’s nothing more than my jailer. Hatred and unspeakable pain are the only things I’ve ever received from him.

Dark memories, filled with indescribable trauma, shudder through my broken mind.

Slowly, my gaze goes to the spot where my mother bled out on my eighteenth birthday. We were both called into his office, and when he ordered me to sleep with Anton Belinski so he could secure a deal with him, Mom fought back.

Boris beat her to death right in front of me for daring to oppose him. Up until that moment, I thought being abused by him was the worst fate I could suffer.

I was wrong.

Mom died, and I was locked in a bedroom. That same night, Anton raped me for the first time. My virginity was stolen violently, and since then, I’ve been the payment for every deal Boris has signed with Anton.

The past nine years of hell tighten the noose around my neck a little more as I keep quiet while watching Boris as he sits behind the enormous desk that dominates the room.

His attention is fixed on documents spread out in front of him as if I am no more than a servant entering the room rather than his daughter.

I’ve never been his daughter. The only person who loved me is dead. I don’t even know what happened to her body.

Simi’s face flashes through my mind. Her soft, pink cheeks and dark eyes make her the spitting image of me.

Even though Anton is her father, he has ignored her existence because she’s not a boy.

My daughter’s future fills me with an ungodly fear. I’ve spent countless hours trying to come up with a plan to escape, but everytime I’ve tried, we’ve been dragged back. Boris separated us after my last failed attempt. As punishment, I was locked in the basement for a week while a recording of Simi crying was played on repeat.

It fractured my mind, and I haven’t been the same since.

My daughter is the only reason I’m still alive. Without her, I would’ve slit my own throat years ago.

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >89

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The Ruler (Roman Republic #1) Read Online Penelope Sky http://www.xoxobooks.com/the-ruler-roman-republic-1-read-online-penelope-sky Thu, 14 May 2026 07:47:31 +0000 http://www.xoxobooks.com/the-ruler-roman-republic-1-read-online-penelope-sky Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Dark, Mafia, Suspense Authors: Penelope Sky Series: Roman Republic Series by Penelope Sky
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Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 80715 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 404(@200wpm)___ 323(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >86

From New York Times bestselling author Penelope Sky, an unforgettable golden retriever mafia romance set in modern-day Italy, bursting with violence, dripping with blood, and crackling with desire.

We spent weeks planning this trip to Sicily together. And I was damn sure going to enjoy it, even if my lying, cheating boyfriend just abandoned me.

I push aside self-pity to venture out and take photographs. Later, I lock eyes with a stranger at a bar. This tattooed god, Constantine, is way out of my league, but to my surprise, he’s all in—every inch. And up in his hotel suite, he claims me for his own. Over and over again.

Constantine’s touch helps take away the pain, and he possesses me like I’ve never known. I fall hard. But beneath his kindness to me, to his family, to his dog, I sense danger. How could I know that to the city of Rome, he’s a brutal enforcer?

When I trust the wrong man, I discover just how dangerous Constantine can be. He may call me sweetheart, but the Roman Republic calls him Emperor—and trembles at his feet

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

Chapter 1

Aurelia

After an hour flight from Rome to Catania, and then another hour drive from the airport, we arrived in Taormina, a quintessential Italian village with cobblestone pathways that led through little alleyways to reveal seafood restaurants that had been in the same families for generations, sandwich shops with freshly made focaccia bread, and little spots with Neapolitan pizza.

Paradise.

We’d planned this trip five months ago, and it was hard to believe it was finally here. With a packed schedule of visits to the wineries, the active volcano Etna, a trip to the Greek theatre, lots of cannoli and granita, it would be a trip to remember.

And we needed it now more than ever.

For the past couple months, Enzo had been noticeably withdrawn. It started off small, like not giving me the same focus he had in the past, missing whatever I was saying because his mind was somewhere else. It progressively got worse, and he didn’t even bother to pretend to listen. Then there were other things . . .

He used to slip in behind me and join me in the shower. We never had sex in there, not when there wasn’t room and the tiles were slippery and I’d fallen once before, but it always served as awesome foreplay before we made it to the bed and dampened the sheets. But he stopped doing that, and when I joined him instead, I could see his glimpse of disappointment. He tucked it away quickly, but not fast enough for me to miss it.

Conversations over dinner had grown stale and forced. He spent more time at work or out with his friends. He used to invite me to join him and his boys, but those invitations stopped.

Whenever I asked him about it, he said he was stressed at work, that he had a falling-out with one of his friends over a stupid argument, that his vertigo had come back with a vengeance . . . always something.

I’m not stupid, so I jumped to the conclusion every woman jumps to.

That there was someone else.

I wasn’t proud of my actions, hated myself a bit for doing it, but I went through his phone and checked his messages. He’d never used a passcode, and I took that as a sign of committed transparency.

I never found anything.

I went to his work parties and knew all of his colleagues. He worked in finance, so most of them were men, and Enzo didn’t strike me as the type of man to play for the other team. His boss was a woman, but she was about seven years older than him, with a husband and two kids.

So that was a dead end.

That led to one last possibility . . . and it was by far the worst.

That he’d just stopped loving me.

That I’d watched it happen, watched the love and desire slowly fade from his heart, watched the light fade from his eyes. They used to burn bright when they looked at me, with love and attention, and now there was just nothing there.

And the fact that he didn’t acknowledge it when I asked, always had an excuse to explain his behavior, told me he didn’t want to fix it. Didn’t want to fight for this. Wanted to let our tree wither until it killed the roots and there was no going back.

He even tried to cancel the trip, said he had too many projects at work, but the hotel said our deposit was nonrefundable, so he conceded.

Maybe this trip would be a turning point for us. Maybe the sunshine and the warm beaches and the fancy dinners over candlelight would light a spark for a fire that had died in the depth of winter. Bring strength back to our broken bones and blood back to our hearts.

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