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"I may be blind, Rain, but trust me, I’ll never miss the right hole or the perfect positions to put you in. My eyes don’t stop me from taking you until your legs give out. Open wide for me, wifey." Enzo Salvatore DeLuca, the ruthless billionaire mafia don, was untouchable—until the accident that stole his sight. Now, with time running out, he needs an heir to secure his legacy, and Rain is forced to take her stepsister's place as his bride. Rain always dreamed of a Christmas wedding with the perfect husband, but marrying a blind stranger wasn’t in her fantasies. How could a man who couldn’t see fulfill her wildest desires? He’d need help with everything, and she couldn’t imagine how he’d live up to the man she’d always fantasized about. What she doesn’t know is that he sees every move she makes, from the constant bite of her lips whenever he talks, to the way she walks around naked in the room, thinking he wouldn’t see her anyway, down to the way she watches him with longing whenever he’s changing. What he lacks in sight, he makes up for in raw intensity, dominance, and an ability to give her everything she never dared to ask for. He doesn’t do love. He doesn’t do gentle. But with Rain, he might just find more than the healing he never thought possible, and the revenge he had been seeking. "If you ask me, the only reason I need eyes is to see your eyes rolling back when I fuck you. But for now, baby girl, I want to hear it. Let me hear you moan for me.”

"You could have chosen anyone. Women throw themselves at you, I'm certain of it. Women who would die to be your chosen… your mate. Why take me, someone unwilling?" "I did not choose you," he said, with a shrug. "Alexandros and Nikolaos did." "Then what's stopping you from setting me free? From choosing another?" I challenged. "I don't want another." ***** Becoming the bride of the most desired and dangerous Alpha is no fairytale, but a bloody nightmare. Lyla Gray, a young human woman, is taken from a life of poverty and dumped into a world of wealth and Lycans... sold into an arranged union with a man she neither trusts nor desires. Her marriage to Zephyrus Wrath, the fearsome and filthy-rich Alpha of a dominant Lycan pack, is not born out of love, but forced by his pack’s traditions. He never wanted a mate. But when duty calls, he bends to take a bride. What he doesn’t expect is to want her. Uncontrollably. Madly. Yet even as the desire is evident between them, he refuses to force the bond. He wants Lyla to choose him willingly. But Lyla is no calm, submissive woman. She challenges him at every turn, determined to frustrate him enough to make him back down and send her away. Yet in doing so, she draws dangerous attention to herself. Eyes that see her as ungrateful, as someone who should feel honored to be Zephyr’s 'Chosen'.

In my last life, my sister Serena Vega ran to Monaco the night before her wedding, and my family shoved me into her dress before dawn. Damian Lucchese, the young Godfather of New York, had been waiting at the altar for her. The moment he lifted my veil and saw me instead, the warmth in his eyes went cold. For five years, I was his hidden wife. The underworld knew he was married, but no one knew to whom. My parents blamed me for stealing Serena’s place and still failing to keep his heart. Then Serena came home. That Christmas, Damian took her and my parents to his mountain estate. When a blizzard hit, his men rushed everyone onto the helicopter. No one remembered me. I died in that frozen house, three months pregnant with Damian’s child. When I opened my eyes again, Serena had just returned to New York. This time, I would not beg for love. Only when I truly walked away, none of them had the right to regret it.

On the day of my prenatal checkup, I found out my husband Don had booked me a termination surgery instead of a postpartum care package. I thought he had placed the wrong order and was about to tease him, but Vincenzo spoke flatly. "I didn't book it wrong. I need to come clean with you about something." "I've been keeping another woman. She's a good girl. She doesn't want a title or to take your place as Donna." "But she got pregnant recently. I've already made her suffer enough. I can't let her child suffer too. I have to give the child the Moretti family name." I froze on the exam table, my voice shaking uncontrollably. "Then why did you abort my child?" He wiped the ultrasound gel off my belly and smiled. "I just want you to adopt Giuliana's child. I'm having yours terminated because I'm afraid you'll play favorites and treat her kid differently." He handed me the consent form, calm and composed. "I promise you will always be Donna. No one will ever take your place." I gave him a long, hard look, then was wheeled into the operating room. "Never mind." "Vincenzo Moretti, you're going to regret this every single day for the rest of your life." He didn't know it, but I was the only woman in the world who could ever give him a child.

For one year, I believed Matteo De Luca had truly fallen in love with me. Our marriage began as an alliance, but he held me every night, kissed me before council meetings, and fastened the De Luca Donna brooch at my throat as if I already belonged beside him. Then his first love, Vanessa Ashford, came back. Within days, our official ceremony was postponed, her access was added to the Donna wing, and Matteo stopped wearing the family signet he once used to claim me in public. He said it was council business. But council business did not leave amber perfume on his skin. It did not sit beside him on a private jet to Palm Beach. And it certainly did not smile from the Donna’s chair while his friends watched me lose my place. The final humiliation came at a private dinner, when someone asked whether I was Matteo’s wife. He looked at me, then said calmly, “Elena and I have an arrangement.” That night, I stopped waiting to be chosen. Matteo could keep his first love, his title, and the home he let her enter. I packed my passport, my Florence contract, and the prenatal report he had never seen. Then I left New York with his child.

My husband, Don Lorenzo, ran New York's underworld. And he's the one who put me in prison. All because his childhood flame, Cassandra Viti—the Viti family princess—killed my father. I was the first one on the scene. The Feds caught me standing over the body. He faked the evidence. Made sure I took the fall. I spent three years in hell. His apology? A single sentence and an unlimited black card. "I owe Cassandra three wishes. Once you're out, once I've paid my debt to her, you'll be my Donna again."