Sera I escaped a life plagued with death and destruction years ago. But it's come back to haunt me. Killian Ricci is no ordinary crime boss. He's the grim reaper. I belong to him. I don't know why he's keeping me locked up. All I know is he holds my life in his hands. And in the mafia world, his hands are bloody. They don't call him the Hand of Death for no reason. If I want to survive I have one option. Submit. Killian Mano Della Morte. That's what they call me. The Hand of Death.

My Needs. My Demands. Your Pleasure. You're Welcome. She had one year left of college when our parents got married. And thanks to being raised in poverty, she needed help with her expenses. My dad, being the benevolent billionaire, stepped up without question. But there was a catch. She had to intern at the firm for a year. With me. As her boss. Poor sweet little thing. She has no clue what she’s up against, but she’ll figure it out soon. I don’t play typical games, but the ones I do play, I always win. And regardless of how taboo our relationship might become, I’m all in. The reward is worth the risk. I just hope she can keep up with my many demands.

As soon as I saw her, I knew I had to have her. I thought this Vegas fundraiser was going to be boring—another obligation to keep the family business alive. Wrong. I don’t remember a thing about the night we spent together, other than how good she felt against me, like she was made for me. We woke up the next morning with more than we bargained for—wedding rings. Too bad I don’t believe in true love. I’d feel bad about it, but she’s got a strong opinion of me too. I’m a perpetual bachelor from her perspective. Great. Crazy enough, this could work out for both of us. I need someone to keep my traditional Greek family from nagging me about settling down, and she could use some cash for reasons she doesn’t want to share. I know a good deal when I see one. And if she wants to end up in my bed all over again, all the better…

Everyone seems to be in love but me. Why is that? Relationship after relationship, and nothing. I’m always the bridesmaid, but never the bride. It’s getting old. Fast. And just when I start to give up, he walks into my life. Sexy, strong, older. The father of one of my students. It’s against the rules to feel the way I do about him, but I can’t help myself. A single father with a sexy demeanor and deep pockets. But that’s not what gets me about him. It’s the way he looks at me. As if he already owns me. The relationship can be our little secret. Or can it?