From USA Today best-selling author W Winters comes a emotionally-gripping, romantic suspense audiobook. I didn’t need anyone to tell me; I knew he was forbidden with a single glance. He was a boy I should’ve been afraid of, and definitely a boy I should’ve never wanted. No matter how much neither of those statements were true. From the first time I saw him, Sebastian had a hard stare that pinned me in place. And years later, it hasn’t softened. We lived on the same street and went to the same school, but he was a year ahead. Even so close, he was untouchable.

When Liz Dougherty’s first reporting assignment for her North Carolina college newspaper finds her covering a state senator’s impromptu press conference, she has no idea how drastically her life is about to change. Senator Brady Maxwell may look the part with his devastating good looks and impeccable style, but his politics rub Liz the wrong way, and she’s not going to let him off easy. Liz’s hardball question catches Brady off guard and shows her editor, Hayden Lane, that she’s headed places as journalist. But to Liz’s surprise, she’s also headed for a secret, high-stakes romance with Brady Maxwell.

Charming, captivating, seductive—and a cold-blooded killer. I married the Pakhan of the Russian Bratva anyway. I had to, it was part of the deal. Now, I’m faking marital bliss as I tremble with fear, and I cannot wait to be out of the clutches of this ruthless man.

He's destined for the White House and engaged to be married next month. Except he just married me instead. While drunk in Vegas. Bradford Black. He's powerful. Rich as sin. And he's now my husband. His fiancée hates me. His political advisors want me gone. The world can't get enough of me and the scandal we've caused. I want to run. I want to hide. I want to pretend none of this is happening. But, oh God. My husband doesn't care about the scandal because all he cares about is me. He's possessive, grumpy, and determined for us to stay married.

Marry a man I barely know to save my family from ruin. It might’ve been simple, if my betrothed were anybody else. On our wedding day, my husband-to-be arrived at the courthouse like a black cloud rolling over Manhattan. Walt didn’t crack smiles or pepper in pleasantries as we exchanged hollow vows in front of the judge. His disdain for me was so palpable I assumed we’d walk out of that ceremony and resume our regularly scheduled programming. But then fate was like, Hold my beer. I got this.