By Emily RUTHLESS QUEEN, BROKEN KING They call Elena Volkov the Ice Queen — CEO by daylight, empress of the underworld by night. Men have died for less than looking at her too long. She built her throne on the ashes of everyone who thought she was soft enough to touch, and she has never, not once, let anyone close enough to matter. Then she finds him bleeding out on her territory — and breaks her only rule. She saves his life. And claims it. Now he belongs to her. Not as a lover. Not as an equal. As a possession — collared in everything but name, sleeping at the foot of her bed, moving only when she allows it. She tells herself it's control. Power. A trophy to remind her enemies what happens when they trespass in her city. But he doesn't flinch under her hand. He doesn't lower his eyes. Every order she gives him comes back sharpened, like he's the one deciding how far this goes — and every night, the distance between punishment and pleasure collapses a little further. He is dangerous in ways her enemies never were, because he doesn't want her empire. He wants her. Elena has ruined men for touching what's hers. She never planned on being ruined by what's now touching her. In a world built on blood and control, the deadliest thing Elena Volkov has ever done is let herself crave the one man she owns.