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***Entangled Vow***

Their marriage of convenience was simple—until it wasn’t. Now, the stakes are personal, and walking away might not be an option.

Clay

I built my empire on cold, calculated decisions, and nothing—not love, not fate, not a fiery Italian beauty—has ever swayed me.

Until now. The deal of a lifetime comes with one catch. Marriage. Mirabella Rinaldi is supposed to be the perfect partner on paper, but in reality, she’s a storm

I didn’t see coming. Her sharp tongue and simmering resentment might be enough to break the deal —or ignite something neither of us is ready for.

Mira

Being handed over like a prize to expand my father’s legacy wasn’t in my life plan. I’ve fought too hard to be reduced to a bargaining chip in some billionaire’s portfolio.

But resisting Clayton Manning—cocky, relentless, and far too gorgeous for his own good—is harder than I thought.
Behind his icy control, there’s a heat I can’t ignore, and the lines between business and pleasure are starting to blur.

*** Velvet Sin ***
Dante
I’ve built an empire by staying focused, ruthless, and always in control. The past?
That’s where it belongs—buried and forgotten—until she walks back into my life. Eleanor Nichols.
The one woman I swore I’d never see again. She’s just as stunning, fiery, and capable of unraveling everything I’ve worked so hard to create.
But this time, I’m not letting her go without a fight.

Eleanor
My life is a mess. Starting over wasn’t supposed to be this hard, but here I am—jobless, heartbroken, and desperately trying to figure out my next move.
The last thing I need is Dante West waltzing back into my life—the man who shattered my heart a decade ago.
He’s charming, infuriating, and way too tempting. I don’t know if I can trust him.
Worse, I don’t know if I can trust myself around him.

*** Boundless Love ***
A wedding in Vegas should be a dream, but for this group, it’s quickly turning into a whirlwind of complications. From florist mishaps to untold secrets bubbling to the surface, nothing about this weekend is going as planned.
As emotions run high and unexpected challenges arise, bonds are tested, and relationships are pushed to their limits. Can they overcome the chaos, or will the glittering city of sin leave cracks in their carefully crafted lives?

If you loved the Elite Men of Manhattan... the LA men will blow you away.

Chapter One

Clay

I had never so much in my life wished somebody was playing a prank on me.

There I was, in the office of Alessandro Rinaldi, where I was sure I would come one step closer to realizing a goal I’d set years earlier—aligning myself with a well-known, well-respected brand like the one Alessandro had worked so many years to develop and maintain. Expanding my empire by absorbing another. Doubling the number of properties I owned by purchasing his, allowing him to retire.

I was standing on the threshold of a new era for Manning Hospitality Group.

Or so I thought. Alessandro dropped the bombshell I was still fighting to wrap my head around. If there was one thing I hated, it was being the last one in one a joke. Why was no one laughing? It had to be a joke.

“Just to make sure I get this straight,” I began, struggling for every word. What I needed was to compartmentalize, so I did, nailing a fake smile to my face. I had been in countless meetings with people as influential and powerful as the man in front of me. It was second nature by now, putting my thoughts and feelings aside in favor of maintaining a professional relationship.

After I glanced at the woman standing a few feet from me, I continued, “You are willing to sell me your chain of properties, but only if I marry your daughter?”
“That’s the general idea,” he confirmed, rubbing his gnarled hands together in a gesture of satisfaction. “It’s very important to me that my Mirabella is taken care of once I’m no longer here.”

Mirabella.

Mirabella glared at him, her eyes getting so wide I was almost concerned she would have a heart attack or a fit or something. Her olive complexion had gone a stark white except for a spot of flaming red on both cheeks. “Papa.” That was all she said, hardly moving her lips. Nice lips. Nice face. She was the quintessential Italian beauty—sensuous features, a mass of dark hair pulled back in a thick bun, and a curvy body barely concealed by a slim-fitting suit.

She was either a stellar actress or was as stunned by all this as I was. I had to wonder. Surely, she would know better than I would about her father’s old-fashioned ways. Had he never discussed his ideas with her? Did he not find it necessary to do so? There was a thin line between old-fashioned notions and chauvinism. He didn’t walk that line. I doubt he knew it existed.

“Now, now.” He chortled, opening one of his desk drawers and withdrawing a slim folder. The overhead light gleamed off the top of his bald, liver-spotted head, reminding me of his age despite his gregarious energy.
“I have a tentative contract up here. Naturally, I would like your input,” he told me, glossing over his daughter’s obvious distress in favor of handing me the folder across the desk. “In it, you’ll find every property, the details thereof, and, of course, my firm caveat. The staff remains in place. If you need to add more, by all means, but I will not have any of my people thrown out of work once our deal goes through.”

I could appreciate his commitment to his people and had anticipated this possibility. My prepared response tumbled from my lips while red flags waved like mad in my head. “Absolutely. There’s an obvious reason why your brand is so highly respected. You’re as serious about finding and retaining quality, talented employees as I’ve always been. That’s how I knew this would be a good fit.” But marriage? To his daughter? A perfect stranger, at that?

“Absolutely,” he agreed. “Developing and retaining talent is the cornerstone.”

“Respectfully,” Mirabella gritted out through clenched teeth, “I have put years of work into training these talented, quality employees. Am I expecting to step aside in all of this?”

She was seething. Trembling. I was glad those narrowed, hazel eyes of hers weren’t trained on me. Her hands flexed, then tightened into fists. The woman’s temper ran hot, obviously, but she knew better than to boil over in mixed company.

“Not at all,” he assured her in a voice that dripped with paternal concern. “That’s another one of my caveats. My Mira is a genius,” he informed me while wearing a proud smile. “She has a magic touch when it comes to handling staffing, keeping people happy, anticipating guests’ needs. She is a true asset, and you would do well to keep her in her current position.”

She barely had time to release a shuddering breath before he added, “Of course, that will be between the two of you. Some men would rather not have their wives working outside the home.”

Damn. Even I almost recoiled at that one, and I didn’t know the woman.

She jolted like a current ran through her body. “Can we have a few minutes to discuss this, Papa?” she asked, focused entirely on him. I may as well have not been in the room. “I have a few questions.”

“Please, Mira,” he replied, waving a hand. “We can talk about this later.”

Focus. As uncomfortable as the entire thing was, as much as I disagreed with some of the old man’s methods and viewpoints, I wasn’t here to take part in a feminist manifesto or some bullshit. The presence of this woman didn’t change anything. I still had a goal in sight, just beyond my fingertips. There was no losing sight of it.
Time to get us back on track, focused on the purpose of this meeting. “I have to admit, I’m a little overwhelmed, sir. I’m also flattered that you believe I would be an appropriate match for your daughter.” His daughter, who looked like she would gladly smash my face to pieces under the heels of her red-soled Louboutin’s.

“We will talk about it later, Papa,” she muttered, flexing her hands again while ignoring me. “How nice of you to make my life decisions. I hope you don’t mind my rudeness,” she added, turning to me with those flashing, scornful eyes while venom dripped from her voice. “But I can’t say I consider it flattering the way you do.”

“Mirabella.” Alessandro clicked his tongue mournfully.
“Come, now. Where is my warrior? You know what needs to be done when it comes to building a legacy. I believed you were committed to that.”

Her nostrils flared as she released a long, shaky breath. Only the thin lines etched between her dark brows hinted at what was going on inside as she pulled herself together, obviously swallowing back all of the rage coursing through her. I could almost feel sorry for what she must be going through, but then it wasn’t my fault she had assumed things would turn out a certain way. Would she rather have some bloated private equity firm come in, carve the whole thing up, then sell off the pieces? She was acting out of emotion, not business sense. There was no room for emotion in this or anything pertaining to business.

Either way, it had nothing to do with me. “I can leave the two of you alone if you need to talk things over,” I offered, and she scoffed, rolling her eyes, but her father didn’t seem to notice.

He was too busy beaming at me. “No need for that. We don’t want to take up more of your time than necessary. I’m sure you have other things planned for the afternoon.”
The man was asking me to marry his daughter and imagined I had more important things to do today? Not your problem. “At the moment, I can’t think of anything more important than this.”

It didn’t seem possible that his smile could widen any further, but it did. “Do we have an agreement?”

Who would say no? Obviously, he knew a lot of things about me, just like I knew all there was to know about him. His impoverished background in Sicily, his first job as a valet when he was eleven years old. How he worked his way up in the ranks, managing that first seaside resort by the time he was twenty-two, saving his money until he and his young bride came to California, where business contacts he’d made overseas assisted in the purchase of his first hotel. His wife had died in childbirth, and he’d never remarried. All his energy had gone into his business and maybe the woman now staring daggers at him.

I knew enough about him to know this had to be a test. There was no way in hell the man was about to hand over his entire company and his daughter along with it to a guy he’d only met thirty minutes ago. It didn’t matter how much he knew about me or how much research his team had conducted.

If I were in his place, what would I be looking for now? Calm. A measured response. If I approached a man with this sort of arrangement and he jumped at the opportunity without taking the time to learn the details, I would immediately discount him. He’d be out of the running.

With that in mind, I chuckled, holding up both hands. “Respectfully, I would appreciate a day to look through the agreement with my legal team and to consider the outcome. This is about more than absorbing your brand,” I pointed out as evenly and as gently as I could. Then, with a glance toward Mirabella, I added, “It’s about joining our lives. That’s something I take seriously.”

Her eyes shifted. She didn’t roll them, but she came damn close. It was as much of a reaction as she felt like giving me. Until now, most of her rancor was reserved for her father.

“By all means,” he urged. I had passed the test. The man was practically glowing. “I appreciate your reticence. Still, we both know there’s a time for caution and a time for striking while the iron is hot. Don’t let the iron cool too much.”

“Like I said. Just a day.” Reaching across his desk, I shook his hand. “I know a good thing when I see it.”
“I like you more and more every minute.” He clasped my hand with both of his, and I noted his thin skin, the blue veins forming a map beneath his spotted skin. He was a man doing everything he could to protect what meant most to him—his legacy and his daughter. Too bad she didn’t see it that way.

I turned in time to catch her scowl. A shame. She had a great face, but not when she was busy coming up with ways to murder me. Like it was my fault her father didn’t want to give her the business, which was obviously the bigger issue on her mind.

“I’m looking forward to seeing you again,” I offered since it would’ve felt a little too much like spiking the ball in celebration if I went for a handshake or tried to draw some friendly conversation from her. I had never exactly been known for my kindness and generosity, but that didn’t mean I had to be a complete bastard.

“I’m sure you are,” she replied in a tone that dripped acid. She was smart, though, cutting herself off before she could finish the thought. I can’t say the same. How did I know that’s what she was thinking? It was written across her face, from her sneer of revulsion to her scornful gaze.

A gaze that held my imagination in its grip long after I left the Rinaldi offices, finally sliding into the back seat of my Porsche Cayenne. “The office,” I murmured, cueing my driver to pull away from the curb.

Those sharp, fiery eyes danced in my memory as I pulled out my phone and made a call to my friend, Spencer Collins.

“Hey,” he answered. “How did that meeting with Rinaldi go? It was today, right?”

Over the years, I had come to appreciate his memory for things like this. I might have mentioned the meeting a week ago, maybe two weeks, during a night shared with my friends over a few drinks. Somehow, he remembered and thought to ask about it straightaway.

“The jury is still out,” I replied, since getting into it would take too long, and time was one thing I didn’t have much of. Besides, he would never believe it when I told him the outcome of that meeting. I could hardly believe it myself. “What’s the number of that guy you use to look into people’s backgrounds? I need some work done immediately.”

“Is there a problem?”

Yes, a curvy, fiery problem I had never counted on. “No, but I need to know all there is to know about somebody, and time is of the essence.” Because I would be damned if I’d marry a woman without knowing exactly who she was, what she did, whether she was secretly psychotic or a liability in another way. Was there another reason Rinaldi was so desperate to marry her off? A paranoid thought, but I wasn’t a man who took chances.

“I’ll text you his contact info,” Spencer offered. “Let him know you’re coming from me, and he’ll prioritize you.”
“I appreciate it.”

One thing I’d become comfortable with over the years was sacrifice. No fucking way could I have gotten as far as I had without it, sacrificing what I wanted in the moment in favor of working toward my ultimate goal. Nights out, dating, and even the luxury of hanging out over beers and a football game. I had left all of it aside in favor of focusing on my goal.

What I wanted now was to be left the hell alone to enjoy my life as I always had. On my terms, in my own time, with nobody to answer to but myself.

If getting my hands on the respected, even venerated Rinaldi brand meant gaining a wife along with it, I’d have to make the sacrifice.

Though the memory of those flashing eyes and that pouty mouth made me wonder how much of a sacrifice it would be.

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