Harper Cole has spent her whole life being the solution to other people's problems. When her gambling father's debt lands her at a dinner table across from Richard Holt — a fifty-five-year-old real estate tycoon who slides a prenuptial agreement across the table before he even asks her name — she does the only thing that makes sense. She pours the wine over his head and walks out. It doesn't help. By the time she gets home, Richard's men are already in her apartment. Her stepmother is counting cash on the couch. And her father won't even open his bedroom door. One night later, Harper is standing in the middle of a Hampton charity gala in a dress she didn't choose, surrounded by cameras, with Richard's hand closing around her wrist and a future she never agreed to closing in from every direction. So she does the only other thing that makes sense. She grabs the coldest, most dangerous man in the room — Sebastian Voss, the hedge fund tyrant every person in this city either fears or wants — pulls him down, and kisses him like she means it. Then she tells the entire room she's carrying his child. Sebastian doesn't deny it. What Harper doesn't know is that Sebastian has been looking for exactly this: a woman so wrong for his family that she'll burn every arranged marriage plan his grandfather has ever made. A scandal. A shield. A problem that solves his problem. What Sebastian doesn't know is that Vanessa — the socialite who's been telling every media outlet they're practically engaged — just walked in with a medical document that could end everything before it starts. The lie is out. The cameras are rolling. And neither of them has any idea what they've just started.

When Nora's mother marries into the Ashford fortune, Nora is forced to move into a sprawling gothic estate — and meet her new stepbrother, Ezra. He's beautiful. Cold. Perfect in every way that makes her skin crawl. But something about him feels familiar. Too familiar. Like he's known her longer than he should. Then she finds the locked room in the east wing. Hundreds of photos. All of her. Taken over the past two years — at her old school, her favorite coffee shop, her bedroom window. He's been watching her long before their parents ever met. She should run. She should scream. She should tell someone. Instead, she goes back to the room. Again. And again. Because the thing about being someone's obsession is this: once you know how it feels to be wanted that badly, nothing else comes close.