Sonuçlar gösteriliyor "Jade Rowe" adlı yazardan Tüm Kategoriler kategorisinde

He's the most dangerous man in Chicago—and I'm his newest obsession. Dark emerald eyes. Black tattoos. A killer's smile… god, that smile… When I'm dragged to a secretive nightclub, the last thing I expect is to find myself in the owner's back office. But after he rescues me from a drunken creep, that's exactly where I end up.

I'd do anything to ruin the man who destroyed my family—even date him. Blood red lips. Dark, endless eyes. I'll never forget those eyes… or forgive them. For the past ten years, Ilya Rykov has haunted my dreams and fueled my passion to take down Chicago's biggest Bratva. The 6'7 foot, tattoo-covered mafia boss is at the head of the operation, after all. All-powerful. Brutal. Untouchable. Before that, though, he was just my older brother's best friend. This schoolgirl's forbidden crush. Now, my brother is dead. So is my father. And I hold Ilya responsible.

Fiery blue eyes. Hungry red lips. Tattoo-covered hands… hands that never let go… Mikhail Zhirkov is the perfect villain. Ruthless. Powerful. Hot as hell. So, when I'm blackmailed into delivering a mysterious package to the former Bratva boss, I know I'm in deep trouble. But it's not just fear I feel. It's hate, too. He killed my father. Stole his crown. Cast my family aside. Now I'm walking up to his doorstep, secret envelope in hand, no idea what's inside… until the devil's sinful smile reveals all.

Deep blue eyes with silver shards… watching me… always watching… Valentin Constanov doesn't take no for an answer. So, when I tell him to stop following me, it might as well be a direct challenge. It's his job to watch over the empire, after all. And I share a connection with his boss's wife—not that I want anything to do with the Russian mafia or their dark and twisted lifestyle. I've got my own problems to worry about. But the hot-tempered, ill-mannered, tattooed-covered Romeo isn't used to being rejected. 

The night I lie for a mafia boss, I become his. For three months, Ivan Petrov comes to my diner at 3 AM—black coffee, hundred-dollar tip, eyes like a storm. No small talk. But when he stumbles in bleeding with sirens closing in, everything changes. "Lock the door. Tell them I was here all...

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