Alliance (Tilly)

Payton Running away from home at 17 wasn't easy. Let's face it, though, nothing before or in the ten years since has ever been easy for me. And I'm doing okay-sorta. I just need to keep scraping by, living under the radar. Staying out of people's way, off people's minds. When a man walks through my open patio door, stepping boldly into my home and my life, I should be scared, frightened, terrified. I must be more broken than I realized because I'm none of those things. I'm intrigued-and I'm wondering if the way to take control of my life is by giving in to him. Nero The first time I took a man's life, I knew there'd be no going back, no normal existence in the cards for me. Instead of walking away, I climbed a mountain of bodies and created my own destiny by forming The Alliance. And I was fine with that, content enough to carry on. Until I stepped through those open doors, and into her life. I should've walked away. Should've gone right back out the door I came through. But I didn't. And now her life is in danger. That's the thing about being a bad man. I'll happily paint the streets red to protect what's mine. And Payton is mine. Whether she knows it or not.

Okay, so my bad for assuming the guy I was going on a date with wasn't married. And my bad for taking him to a friend's house for dinner, only to find out my friend is also friends with his wife. Because, in fact, he is married. And she happens to be at my friend's house because her husband was "busy working." Confused? So am I. Unsurprisingly, my date's wife is super angry about finding out that her husband is a cheating asshole. Girl, I get it. Then to make matters more convoluted, there is the man sitting next to my date's wife. A man named King, who is apparently her brother, and who lives up to his name. Since my date is a two-timing prick, I'm not going to feel bad about drooling over King, especially since I'll never see him again. Or at least I don't plan to. I plan to take an Uber to the cheater's apartment to get my car keys. I plan for it to be quick. If I had to list a thousand possible outcomes… witnessing my date's murder, being kidnapped by his killer, then being forced to marry the super attractive but clearly deranged crime lord would not have been on my bingo card. But alas, here I am.

Val When I was nine, I went to my first funeral. Along with accepting my father's death, I had to accept new and awful truths I wasn't prepared for. When I was nineteen, I went to my mother's funeral. We weren't close, but with her gone, I became more alone than ever before. Sure, I have a half-brother who runs The Alliance. And yeah, he's given me his protection-in the form of a bodyguard and chauffeur. But I don't have anyone that really knows me. No one to really love me. Until I meet him. The man in the airport. When one chance meeting turns into something hotter, something more serious, I let myself believe that maybe he's the one. Maybe this man is the one who will finally save me from my loneliness. The one to give me the family I've always craved. Dom The Mafia is in my blood. It's what I do. So when that blood is spilled, and one funeral turns into three, drastic measures need to be taken. When this battle turns into a war, I'm going to need more men. More power. I'm going to need The Alliance. And I'll become a member. By any means necessary.

Cassie How to make the handsome, brooding man across the street notice me? Step one: Deliver baked goods to his front porch, even though he never answers his door and always returns the containers when I'm not home. Step two: Slowly lose my mind as a whole year passes without ever running into him, no matter how hard I try. Step three: Have my boudoir photos accidentally delivered to his mailbox instead of mine. Have him open the package. Then have him storm into my home for the most panty-melting scolding of my life. Step four: Still figuring out step four. Hans I'm a dangerous man. A man who has spent the last two decades removing so many souls from this earth that it's a miracle my hands aren't permanently stained red. I'm a man who belongs in the shadows. I certainly don't belong in my pretty little neighbor's bedroom when she's not home, touching her things and inhaling her scent. I shouldn't follow her. Shouldn't watch her. No number of cookies on my doorstep will change the fact that love isn't an option for me. The only option left for me is violence.