Unleashed is LIVE!
I wake up chained to the bed of a stranger.
He says I’m his wife.
I have nothing—no money. No friends.
No escape.
He’s everything I never imagined: ruthless, calculating, feared. A beautiful monster with a face like a god’s, cold and untouchable. A mafia kingpin whose wealth could buy empires and whose power makes the world tremble.
My captor.
My husband.
He vows to protect me at all cost, and in return demands...everything.
My body. My obedience. My submission.
Every touch, every brutal kiss stirs a dangerous desire neither of us can control. His words may be laced with venom, but his touch is fire, and every time he’s near, I burn.
As days bleed into weeks, the fog of my past refuses to lift. The more I fight it, the harder I’m pulled into his orbit.
But as my memories start to unravel, I wonder—what if the past I can’t remember holds the key to our destruction?
And when the truth finally comes out...will either of us survive?
For readers of the Wicked Vows series, this is the first book in a brand new, standalone, spin-off series. This is Polina's story.
Please note: Unleashed is a standalone dark romance with a strong, fierce heroine and an unapologetically obsessive, jealous, and possessive alpha anti-hero. No OW drama, no cliffhanger, always a hard-won HEA.
Download today or read for FREE with Kindle Unlimited
Amazon: https://amzn.to/482HAWY
Goodreads: https://bit.ly/3BCFvVw
Excerpt:
I swallow hard. Opening the top drawer, he pulls out a white T-shirt and a pair of boxers. But then, his hands shift to an ivory tank top and matching shorts—women’s clothes. I don’t recognize them, but I wonder if they’re mine.
“Are those… mine?”
Not bothering to turn, he throws them aside. “No. My sisters thought you’d need those.” I see a corner of his lips quirk up when he gives me a sidelong look, his eyes burning a hole straight through me. “Cute.”
I stare, my mouth open. “What do you mean?” I finally manage to ask.
“You’re my wife, Anissa.” His tone is tight, clipped, and laced with authority. “I’ll give you leeway, knowing you can’t remember many things, so allow me to remind you.” When he turns fully to look at me, I nearly swallow my tongue. Sweet Jesus, it’s like looking at the body of a vengeful god—beautiful and terrible, capable of utter destruction and relentless protection. When he continues, there isn’t a hint of hesitation.
He studies me and steps closer. I feel the weight of his glare, the heat of his gaze, his masculine scent overwhelming me as he draws near. His fingers trail down my neck, lingering with a possessive, almost punishing slowness that makes my pulse race.
“You’ll obey me,” he murmurs, his voice a low rumble. “And in turn, I’ll give you everything. Safety. Devotion. A life where no harm will ever come to you. All you have to do is submit to me. Learn your place as my wife.”
That’s it, eh?
Still, a thrill—unsettling yet undeniable—weaves through me, wrapping around me like a spell, an unbreakable vow, something ancient and powerful binding us together. I feel half hypnotized in his presence. I open my mouth to protest, to resist, to claim a part of my identity, but my resistance falters when his thumb sweeps against my jaw, tipping my face up to meet his dark, stern gaze.
“You’re asking me to surrender to a man I don’t remember,” I whisper, my voice shaky, even as a part of me knows, somehow, that this was always my destiny. Somehow, I can’t remember my own name, but I know the law of the Bratva.
“I’m not asking,” he corrects, his grip both firm and reverent. “I’m demanding it. In return, I vow my utter protection. I’ll shield you from anything that tries to hurt you. But I am not a man who shares or who gives up an ounce of control.”
Something inside me stirs like a forgotten memory, a whisper that somehow, this is a familiar dance—a test of wills, an exchange of power I both hate and somehow crave.
He says I’m his wife.
I have nothing—no money. No friends.
No escape.
He’s everything I never imagined: ruthless, calculating, feared. A beautiful monster with a face like a god’s, cold and untouchable. A mafia kingpin whose wealth could buy empires and whose power makes the world tremble.
My captor.
My husband.
He vows to protect me at all cost, and in return demands...everything.
My body. My obedience. My submission.
Every touch, every brutal kiss stirs a dangerous desire neither of us can control. His words may be laced with venom, but his touch is fire, and every time he’s near, I burn.
As days bleed into weeks, the fog of my past refuses to lift. The more I fight it, the harder I’m pulled into his orbit.
But as my memories start to unravel, I wonder—what if the past I can’t remember holds the key to our destruction?
And when the truth finally comes out...will either of us survive?
For readers of the Wicked Vows series, this is the first book in a brand new, standalone, spin-off series. This is Polina's story.
Please note: Unleashed is a standalone dark romance with a strong, fierce heroine and an unapologetically obsessive, jealous, and possessive alpha anti-hero. No OW drama, no cliffhanger, always a hard-won HEA.
Download today or read for FREE with Kindle Unlimited
Amazon: https://amzn.to/482HAWY
Goodreads: https://bit.ly/3BCFvVw
Excerpt:
I swallow hard. Opening the top drawer, he pulls out a white T-shirt and a pair of boxers. But then, his hands shift to an ivory tank top and matching shorts—women’s clothes. I don’t recognize them, but I wonder if they’re mine.
“Are those… mine?”
Not bothering to turn, he throws them aside. “No. My sisters thought you’d need those.” I see a corner of his lips quirk up when he gives me a sidelong look, his eyes burning a hole straight through me. “Cute.”
I stare, my mouth open. “What do you mean?” I finally manage to ask.
“You’re my wife, Anissa.” His tone is tight, clipped, and laced with authority. “I’ll give you leeway, knowing you can’t remember many things, so allow me to remind you.” When he turns fully to look at me, I nearly swallow my tongue. Sweet Jesus, it’s like looking at the body of a vengeful god—beautiful and terrible, capable of utter destruction and relentless protection. When he continues, there isn’t a hint of hesitation.
He studies me and steps closer. I feel the weight of his glare, the heat of his gaze, his masculine scent overwhelming me as he draws near. His fingers trail down my neck, lingering with a possessive, almost punishing slowness that makes my pulse race.
“You’ll obey me,” he murmurs, his voice a low rumble. “And in turn, I’ll give you everything. Safety. Devotion. A life where no harm will ever come to you. All you have to do is submit to me. Learn your place as my wife.”
That’s it, eh?
Still, a thrill—unsettling yet undeniable—weaves through me, wrapping around me like a spell, an unbreakable vow, something ancient and powerful binding us together. I feel half hypnotized in his presence. I open my mouth to protest, to resist, to claim a part of my identity, but my resistance falters when his thumb sweeps against my jaw, tipping my face up to meet his dark, stern gaze.
“You’re asking me to surrender to a man I don’t remember,” I whisper, my voice shaky, even as a part of me knows, somehow, that this was always my destiny. Somehow, I can’t remember my own name, but I know the law of the Bratva.
“I’m not asking,” he corrects, his grip both firm and reverent. “I’m demanding it. In return, I vow my utter protection. I’ll shield you from anything that tries to hurt you. But I am not a man who shares or who gives up an ounce of control.”
Something inside me stirs like a forgotten memory, a whisper that somehow, this is a familiar dance—a test of wills, an exchange of power I both hate and somehow crave.
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