

Skyla Garrett, a girl with dreams of becoming a designer, and a wealthy heir, Zion Murray, fall quietly in love as teenagers, until a devastating fire changes everything. He rushes into the flames to save her and is left disfigured, forced to seek treatment abroad.When he finally returns, he finds her on the verge of engagement, not to him, but to his twin brother, whom she mistakenly believes rescued her that night. Unable to let go, and discovering his brother's hidden motives are far from pure, Zion weaves a careful plan to draw Skyla's heart back where it belongs. Their reconciled love not only heals them both but unravels years of silent tension between the brothers. Real love, it turns out, always finds its way home.

Within the halls of Golden Feather Academy, wealthy stepsiblings Tanya and Leo, bound by family but not blood, hold court as the institution's dual reigning icons of popularity. As the holiday break ends, the queenly Tanya sets her sights on the newly elected Student Council President, Logic—son of the nation's president. At the grand ball, her calculated allure meets only his icy dismissal. Stung and pride inflamed, she makes a reckless wager with her notorious playboy stepbrother, Leo, who has just slipped into her bedchamber under cover of night: if Leo can seduce and shatter the seemingly incorruptible, iron-willed heterosexual scholar Logic within one month—turning his arrogance to ashes and his reputation to ruin—she will grant him the one thing he's craved for years: a night in her bed. The libertine Leo, who believes his charm can conquer anyone except the elusive Tanya, acknowledges the formidable challenge of making Logic fall in love. Yet, brimming with audacious confidence, he accepts, plunging them all into a twisted game of seduction and vengeance. However, as the month draws to a close, a chilling realization dawns on Tanya: not only has she been denied the sweet venom of revenge against Logic, but she may have irrevocably lost the mercurial, ever-devoted Leo—the brother whose affections she'd always held in a delicate, dangerous dance of veiled dominance—to the very heart he was supposed to destroy.

To defuse the bomb strapped to the hostage, I had no choice—I cut off all her clothes. My clueless new wife, Dana Poole, blasted it online. She cried as she faced me. "Why not at least leave her underwear on? You were saving her, I get it—but did you have to take everything? Doesn't a girl's dignity matter? With cameras everywhere, how is she supposed to live after this? You couldn't even cover her up?" The backlash exploded. The unit benched me to calm things down. So I stopped caring. I followed procedure, no improvising, no extra effort. Then one day, at the busiest mall in the city, Dana's mom got strapped into a brand-new linked bomb. This time, the whole unit panicked.