

I went to pick up my older brother who was out at a gathering. That was when I overheard him ask Nathan, "Haven't you been dating someone? It's been so long, and I still haven't met her." I suddenly tensed up. Nathan and I had been together for three years, but we had always kept it a secret, so no one knew. Nathan replied lazily, "She's not my girlfriend, just a pastime. It's not like I plan to marry her." I clenched my fists and pushed the door open without hesitation.

My father was one of the first dons to rise out of the Naples mob. My mother was an iron-fisted businesswoman with a reputation that made grown men flinch. When I was ten, somebody had the nerve to hijack one of my father's freight ships. He had the man's arms and legs broken with a crowbar, then stuffed a handful of gold rings down his throat — told him to count his money while he crawled. When I was fifteen, some scheming woman tried to get her claws into my father. My mother hired the filthiest pimps off the docks, shipped her down to a back-alley bar in Marseille, and told her to make her own way. And me — I grew up running the streets of Naples like I owned them. The sons of every other family knew to call me Miss Ferrante and keep their hands to themselves. Then I met him. A rough, quiet man fresh out of the army. For him I put down the knives, traded the silk for plain cotton, and followed him back to that little nothing of a coastal town, Porto Scuro. Today my mother-in-law and my husband went down to the dock warehouses to settle a dispute. They held her face down in a barrel of rotting fish guts. They kicked in three of his ribs. I stared at the salt fish I'd been slicing on the kitchen board, let out a cold laugh, and brought the knife down so hard the oak split in half. Then I dialed my father's private line.

My father was one of the first dons to rise out of the Naples mob. My mother was an iron-fisted businesswoman with a reputation that made grown men flinch. When I was ten, somebody had the nerve to hijack one of my father's freight ships. He had the man's arms and legs broken with a crowbar, then stuffed a handful of gold rings down his throat — told him to count his money while he crawled. When I was fifteen, some scheming woman tried to get her claws into my father. My mother hired the filthiest pimps off the docks, shipped her down to a back-alley bar in Marseille, and told her to make her own way. And me — I grew up running the streets of Naples like I owned them. The sons of every other family knew to call me Miss Ferrante and keep their hands to themselves. Then I met him. A rough, quiet man fresh out of the army. For him I put down the knives, traded the silk for plain cotton, and followed him back to that little nothing of a coastal town, Porto Scuro. Today my mother-in-law and my husband went down to the dock warehouses to settle a dispute. They held her face down in a barrel of rotting fish guts. They kicked in three of his ribs. I stared at the salt fish I'd been slicing on the kitchen board, let out a cold laugh, and brought the knife down so hard the oak split in half. Then I dialed my father's private line.

Photographer Cecilia Stone is pushed by her best friend to go on a blind date, but fate has other plans—she accidentally ends up with her friend’s older brother, Yves Jensen, and they marry on a whim. By day he’s a stern CEO; by night, he’s tender. To keep their marriage, he hides his identity,sparking a hilarious, heartwarming tale of marriage first, love later.

A broke small-town perfumer agrees to a $50,000 marriage of convenience—only to discover her "nobody" husband is the werewolf king who married her for the scent that calms his beast.

Expelled from the elite Turner family, Lucy Turner stages a cheating scandal to save her boyfriend from debt, only to discover years later that he's now a billionaire, her boss, and engaged to her half-sister. Amidst lingering love and misunderstandings, their fates remain entangled.

Nicole Sugg only discovers the truth as she's dying—her husband Arthur Jones is still alive. He's been impersonating his dead twin brother Kevin,living as husband to his sister-in-law! Given a second chance at life, Nicole is determined to get ruthless revenge...

It’s been five years since my mother married into the Sterling crime family, and my relationship with my stepbrother, Louis, is still ice-cold. He’s arrogant, aloof, and wouldn’t give me the time of day. I know better than to even try. Until I saw it: a birthmark on Louis’s body, identical to the one on my online boyfriend, Rowan. I thought about the messages Rowan had sent me every night for the past two years, the ones that made my face flush and my heart race: Baby, I can only fall asleep thinking of you. I need to see you. I’ll show you how much I want you. I’m going crazy thinking about you… I just couldn’t square the man in those messages with the cold-as-ice Louis. To make matters worse, I had just lied to Rowan, telling him I’d failed to get into Harvard and wasn't good enough for him, before breaking up with him. If he finds out it was me who dumped him, I’m pretty sure he’ll tear me to pieces. I was already packing my bags, ready to bolt. But then Louis appeared, blocking my path. He leaned in, his low laugh a menacing rumble in my ear. "Think you can play me and just walk away? Who gave you the balls?"

Married 10 years, top gynecologist Clara Reynolds wholeheartedly trusted her husband Brian Harrington — until she uncovered his affair, and his mistress Britney is pregnant. On top of this devastating betrayal, she had long endured endless abuse from her mother-in-law Karen Harrington for being infertile. Betrayal, humiliation, unrelenting pressure. She will no longer stay silent. Armed with sharp wits, professional medical knowledge and live-stream public influence, Clara launches an all-out counterattack. She lays bare the Harrington family's hideous secrets, fights to claim her assets, and takes back every bit of her dignity.