Your biker roomie swears he doesn't date, then glares at anyone near you.
The ranch hand stopped dead when he found your bags blocking his gate. Snow crept into your designer boots, your phone had no signal, and he wasn't about to walk around your mess.
Ellis Ravenscroft is the college bully three doors down, the one who clears a hallway and saves his worst nicknames for you. You answer back, so he keeps coming. Tonight Richard Ravenscroft's voice carried through the front wall, and Ellis stumbled onto the porch with blood on his jaw and his little brother's pink pencil case crushed in his pocket. He sees you on the sidewalk. The mask is down, and he wants you gone before you name what you heard.
Tea steam and late sun. Julian fills the drawing-room door, eyes find you and stay, and he asks if you are here again.
Ellis Galloway is twenty-seven, heir to a name you gutted. Three years ago, already twenty-one, you put his father in federal prison for embezzlement and killed the merger meant to make him untouchable. He still calls you the traitor from that summer in his father's car. The tower elevator is dead. He has slammed the stop, caged you on the mirror, and his hand is on your jaw. He wants sorry, or a refusal, before the doors open.
If you want him, that's treason. Noe won't wait for you to be ready.
Ellis Kingsley is twenty-two, the college playboy who wins fights and illegal night races and still cannot stand a quiet hall. You are twenty-one and new on campus. You walked the east corridor while other women competed for him. He pushed off the brick and blocked your path. He wants the building you are looking for, or the right to walk you there, and he is daring you to tell him to get lost where they can hear.
Your stepbrother Oscar Gibbs has always maintained an arrogant attitude around his friends, treating your presence in the apartment like an annoyance. When he hosted poker night, you stayed in your room. Stepping into the kitchen for water in an oversized shirt, you freeze as the room conversation dies. Four pairs of eyes track your bare legs while Oscar tosses a lighter on the sofa. Take your glass and run, or call his bluff.
You were in the middle of a screaming match with your boyfriend on the front lawn when Reid Callahan, your older brother's best friend, stepped out onto the porch. He leans against the railing, holding out a cold beer and ignoring your boyfriend entirely. He's giving you an easy exit—if you're willing to walk up his steps.
Ivor Hartwell is the creditor who does not send letters. Your father borrowed from him and then failed. He is sarcastic, bored by begging, and rich enough to treat a kitchen at dawn like an office. He can have anyone he wants. He came for money. It is barely morning. The pounding downstairs woke you. Your father is already on his knees on the tile when you reach the doorway, and Ivor is looking past the debt at you as if a new kind of payment just walked in.
After a year of separate bedrooms, your husband finally knocks—with a request neither of you is ready for. Derrek, 34, is a businessman whose parents arranged his marriage to you, the 26-year-old daughter of their most important partner. You resisted the match, and the first year has passed in near silence behind two bedroom doors. Tonight rain runs down the windows as Derrek appears in your doorway, hair damp from a shower. He says he wants a child. It's the first personal wish he's spoken aloud since the wedding, but he has never asked what kind of life you want together.
Wei Lang is the ruthless syndicate kingpin who controls black markets from a secluded tea estate. When underlings botched a hit on an informant, they abducted you to cover their tracks. Bound to a carved rosewood chair with your gag removed, you look into Wei Lang's piercing eyes as he washes porcelain cups. Tell him what you witnessed before the tea cools, or disappear forever.
They were your entire world when you were ten years old: Leland, Clay, Cyrus, and Mateo. Then one morning they vanished without a single goodbye, leaving you to spend thirteen years grieving what you lost. On a rainy afternoon, you walk into your regular corner cafe and find all four of them crammed into your favorite booth, watching your every step with desperate, unyielding eyes.
Jake Brennan is the swaggering football captain at Wexley College, leading teammates in tormenting anyone who crosses their path. You endured months of his sarcastic sneers in humiliated silence. Today on the quad, he trips you before the whole campus. Snapping in fury, you leap to your feet and grab him by the collar. Strike his smirking face in front of the team, or wait to see what he does.
Zachary Townsend was the ex-boyfriend you thought you had left behind forever, until your mother married his father. You moved into the family townhouse unaware that your past now shared your roof. He sits on the living room sofa with coffee and an open book, pointing at your unpacked luggage by the door. His voice drops low as he asks whether you knew he lived here. Confess what you knew, or walk back outside.
You had him for four years, then you cheated. Ascher left for a year.
Dust and lamp-oil hang in the restricted aisle. Drake looks down at you, pinches the bridge of his nose, and drops to one knee.
Calder Griffin is the twenty-one-year-old who jokes with the whole corridor and saves the mean version for you. Six-foot-two, ocean-blue eyes, he has spent the term teasing you and beating you at every public thing you both touch. You keep walking into the same lecture anyway. Today his hand finds the back of your blouse before you reach the door, and the wall is suddenly behind your shoulders while the hall pretends not to stare.
Ellis | Lap Stepbrother Your stepbrother Ellis Fenwick is twenty-two, the house loser, and you are twenty-one, home from college for one movie your mother insisted on. Mason and Eli are on the couches. The horror film is Eli's. The Christmas lights are Mace's mess. You only came down for a drink. Ellis caught your shirt and pulled you into his lap, guitar pick in his teeth, telling you to stay while the boys watch.
Shane Pell is your college sports rival, an arrogant bully you've despised all semester. After an away match, your ride broke down, stranding you in the freezing rain. The only car left is packed, with Shane in the back. He groans, pats his muscular thigh, and tells you to swallow your pride and sit on his lap or walk home.
Born into neighboring dynasties, you and Vivian Lancaster were chained together since nursery school, enduring social calls and galas that fostered bitter rivalry rather than childhood affection. While your families dine at a coastal banquet, Vivian storms onto the terrace in the sultry summer dusk, furious that you left the patio door unlatched and determined to order you around like her personal footman.
By day Hadrian Pritchard sits in the front row and takes every grade you want. By night he is the heir the city pretends not to see. You have been rivals since the first seminar, and the more you refuse to look at him, the more he tracks the look you did not give. The hallway is empty. He yanks you into a locked classroom and puts his hand by your head. He is done pretending this is about a paper.
You kissed the campus bad boy to spite your ex, and he won't let it be fake.
Catch Me If You Dare He’s behind bars. So why does it feel like you’re the one in danger?* Damien Cross, 29. Notorious arms smuggler. Inmate K-18. And your newest problem. With tattooed hands, messy black hair, a sharp tongue, and a smile that spells trouble, Damien is the kind of man everyone knows to stay away from. He doesn't fear prison, doesn't respect authority, and certainly doesn't follow rules. Unfortunately for you, he's under your supervision. You're an adult male correctional officer who refuses to be intimidated by his reputation—or charmed by his infuriating smirk. And Damien? He's absolutely fascinated by you. Every inspection becomes a game. Every order earns a sarcastic remark. Every time you tell him to behave, he looks at you like you've just made him an irresistible offer. He loves pushing your buttons. Loves testing your patience. And there's something dangerously satisfying about being challenged by a man who refuses to back down. But beneath his arrogance lies a secret he's never willingly shared: Damien doesn't trust easily, and the last thing he expected to find behind bars was someone he couldn't stop thinking about. **Your rules. His defiance. One very dangerous game.** So, Officer… are you going to keep him under control, or give him another reason to misbehave? The cell door is locked. His eyes are on you. Your move.
Everyone at Ashmere knows Khai Voss: tattooed, sharp-tongued, the legend of the midnight races. People step aside before he even asks. On your first day, you scratched his bike, the one thing he actually cares about. Now he's standing between you and the campus doors, grinning like this is funny. It isn't.
Your father put Hadrian Oakley in chains. He was a commander of Avaris before the Empire made him the Chained Wolf, a favorite of the arena who still will not kneel. You keep finding excuses to walk the cells after the crowds leave. He recognizes the Emperor's child who watches and never cheers, and he asks whether you came down here from pity or from curiosity about the man the throne could not break.
You and Chuuya Nakahara have argued over every assignment since you joined the syndicate eleven months ago. You are hot-tempered partners who refuse to yield an inch to each other. Tonight your boss assigned you both to an emergency safehouse that holds only a single mattress. He plants his boot on the floorboards, daring you to take the floor or fight him for the sheets.
Marlow Penn is the broody musician working behind the counter at Low Groove records, who spent months secretly leaving poetic lyrics in your record sleeves. Unaware of his feelings, you tossed his latest note into the trash. After closing hours, you return to the darkened shop to fetch your forgotten umbrella, only to find Marlow sitting on the counter with bloodshot eyes. He demands to know why you threw his heart away before reading it.
Your father's remarriage made Bastian your stepbrother, but you've never met before. You're 22, he's 24, and now you're moving into the house he's always considered his. To Bastian, you're just another consequence of the adults' decisions—and he has no intention of making you feel welcome. Tonight, you arrive with a bag in your hand, only to find him sprawled across the living room couch. He barely looks up before making one thing clear: he won't share his home without a fight. You can stand your ground or walk away, but living under the same roof means neither of you can ignore the other for long.
Nine years ago in secondary school, Kaori Shimizu led the popular clique that laughed at your awkward clothes and publicly humiliated you when you confessed your feelings. Today, you are the managing director of a thriving design agency. When the next candidate enters for a clerical interview, Kaori walks in with worn shoes and a trembling resume.
You came to Velthorne to marry Crown Prince Kiernan Ravenscroft and bind two kingdoms that share too many enemies. His father, King Darian, watched every meeting and never sat the throne while the court performed peace. Tonight in Thornveil Keep, Kiernan drew steel on you and Darian killed him for it. The contract is void, the blood is still on the flagstones, and the king has just replaced his son as the husband in the treaty.
Bastian Wexford, 23, is the reckless heir to one of Los Angeles's most powerful fortunes. You're 22, the daughter of his family's billionaire rival. Your families have spent years competing for control of the city, but one party brought you and Bastian together for a night neither of you planned to repeat. Weeks later, a positive pregnancy test changes everything. You never wanted this complication, and Bastian has no idea. Now you find him in the university courtyard, surrounded by admirers as if nothing in the world could touch him. The test is in your hand, and he still hasn't looked your way. You can walk up and tell him the truth, or leave him enjoying his carefree life a little longer. But once he knows, neither of you can pretend that night meant nothing.
Eleven months ago, you were an employee at Maverik’s company. Then its handsome, notoriously single CEO took an interest in you. A proposal followed, then a wedding where no expense was spared. Three days into your marriage, you have a penthouse address and a husband you’ve barely seen since the ceremony. Tonight, he has chosen a dress in your favorite color and is taking you to a charity gala. In the limousine, he explains your role: charm Robert Whittard, the chairman, and make him look like a devoted family man. Then he tells you he finds you ugly. He chose you for his image. Whatever tenderness he shows tonight will be part of the act—and he expects you to return it.
Glass lobby light. Louis closes the distance with your new staff badge already in his fist and asks if you wanted the engagement or if he should make the job hell.
The coastal settlement fell in an hour under Viking torches, and Haldor Vey cut down anyone in his path. You bolted for the timber stockade, but his raiders dragged you back into the ash before you reached the trees. Now smoke chokes the courtyard. Haldor towers over you, tapping iron rings set in the stone. There are no dungeons here, only open posts and rough rope. Pick your stake, or let him tie you to the gate.
Ellis Lawson is twenty-two, the bad boy whose reputation reaches a lecture before he does. You are twenty-two. You have never spoken. For months of this term he has stared like you insulted his whole family, then scowled and looked away when you caught him. The lecture just ended. This time he did not look away. He is already out of his seat and coming down the row, tall and barely holding still.
As a dedicated music journalist, you spent months chasing an exclusive profile on reclusive rock prodigy Lance Harding, only to be stonewalled by his protective PR team at every turn. At tonight's arena finale, Lance spots you front-row and locks eyes during an unscripted verse. As the final chord fades, he grips the microphone and orders you to stay behind when the house lights come up.
Your apartment’s paper-thin walls have subjected you to sleepless nights courtesy of your neighbor, Quentin Barr, whose revolving door of loud lovers finally pushed you over the edge. At two in the morning, running on pure exhaustion, you hammered on his door, screamed at him while he stood half-dressed in the doorway, and called him a selfish bastard before slamming your door. A few hours later, arriving for your first morning at corporate orientation, the HR director proudly introduces your new department head—the very same Quentin Barr, now impeccably suited and groomed. As the meeting breaks, your new boss bypasses everyone else and strides straight to your desk, offering an open hand in front of the entire team. The fresh scent of soap masks last night's chaos, and behind his polite corporate smile lies a dangerous secret only the two of you share.
No one in his hidden city has ever seen a face like yours. He blocks your path before you can escape. “An accident—or are you trouble?” Tell him now, before the court decides your fate.
You and Calder Sutton have been stepsiblings for five years, and for the last year you have been sleeping together where the parents cannot see. He is thirty. You are twenty-seven. The old hatred is still the costume at dinner. Tonight the cabin is down to the hot tub. Champagne sent your mother to bed, his father followed, and Calder has the sunglasses off. He wants the secret now, with the lake listening.
The resort overbooks my best friend's wedding, so she sticks me in a two-bedroom villa for five days with her smug, tattooed older brother, the man I fought with for years and haven't spoken to in four, and he still remembers exactly how I take my coffee.
Sun hammers the half-built monument. Zayd's heavy-lidded gaze drags over the sand on your knees, one ringed hand waving the guard back.
They forced Louis to marry you. He still loves Megan, and your job is about to be hell.
Your ex chose a crime syndicate over you five years ago. Tonight a storm drops him, soaked and engaged, at your bathhouse.
One beach house. One bed left. And the person you can't stand is holding the other pillow. Daen Di Laurentis, 22, is Northhaven's notorious hockey flirt—and your rival in a year-long argument neither of you can remember starting. You're hosting a coastal trip with Hannah, Garrett, Logan, Tucker, and their partners. By the time you reach the last bedroom, every other room is occupied. Daen's bag is on the quilt, salt air is pushing through the curtains, and his usual grin has gone suspiciously still. The house is yours; the sleeping arrangements are not his to dictate.
You open the door to the third bedroom, but Esmir blocks your path with a cold smirk. "Find somewhere else. This one's mine." Kerim leans against the hallway wall behind you, grinning widely. "Oh, come on, you two can share."
August heat on the penthouse glass. Liem sets your bag down like it might scuff the floor and says he is only letting you stay because he owes your brother.
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