But the moment the ring slides onto her finger, the game changes.
Because monsters don’t fear betrayal…
they crave it.
This is Rafael Caruso’s claiming?—
and the woman who was meant to ruin him… becoming the only thing he refuses to lose.
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DO YOU WANT MORE ROMANCE?
Turn on the next page to read the first chapters of my latest best-selling book:Gilded in Sin
My brother disappeared with a debt he left on my shoulders, and now I belong to Artyom Morozov. He says I’m his fiancée—just long enough to keep him out of an arranged marriage he refuses. But every touch, every order, every dark look feels like more than a lie. The deeper I fall into his world, the more I realize the danger isn’t the Bratva surrounding us…it’s the way he makes me want to stay. Because if he learns what I’m hiding, the man who owns me might be the one who destroys me.
GILDED IN SIN
CHAPTER ONE
Artyom
The call came just after dawn. Not from him, of course. He never picks up the phone himself. One of his men delivered the message in that clipped, careful tone that means it isn’t optional.
Your father wants to see you.
I almost said no. Although I live on the estate, I try to avoid this house, and every time I step inside it feels like walking backward through time into a version of myself I thought I’d buried. But there are some things even distance can’t protect you from.
The old unease has already settled in my gut.
My father’s house smells like old cigars and power. Rotting, perfumed power. The kind that seeps into the stone until it forgets what clean air feels like. Every sound here carries weight:the echo of shoes against marble, the click of a cane, the soft drag of a dying man pretending he’s still king.
God, how much I hate all of this.
Vladimir Morozov sits behind his desk, the same one I used to stand in front of as a boy. Back then, it felt like a throne, but now it looks smaller.
He glances up when I enter, surprise flickering for only a second before it hardens into the usual assessment. The years haven’t softened him. If anything, they’ve made him sharper. His suit is immaculate, his tie perfect, the old silver ring still glinting on his hand.
“It’s been a while,” he says finally, the words carrying neither warmth nor reproach. Just fact.
“It has.” I stop a few steps from the desk.
A ghost of a smile touches his mouth, but doesn’t reach his eyes. “Still difficult, I see.”
“I learned from the best.”
