The Devil

This is the final book in the two-book duet. Book one must be heard first. One man thinks I'm a saint. The other thinks I'm a sinner. One man lives in the public eye. The other lurks in the shadows. One man wants to use me for his own needs. The other wants to use me for his revenge. One man will get what's coming to him. The other will get what he deserves. They told me good girls get rewarded. But I've been bad. Very bad. I made a deal with the Devil...and I liked it.

In the blink of an eye, my world is split at its core, and I’m faced with an impossible decision, one that leads to a single outcome: betrayal. 

I never thought I'd step foot in Royal Manor again. But four years later, here I am...back to finish my senior year at Royal Hearts Academy. And forced to face Jace Covington. My first friend. First crush. First kiss. The one I left behind. Only - he isn't the same boy I gave my heart to. This new Jace is as cruel as he is gorgeous. And he's determined to make my life a living hell. Along with the rest of his glorified family and crew of tyrants. They expect me to worship the ground they walk on like everyone else, but I'd rather eat dirt.

I had a plan to escape the friend zone. Step one: sneak into Reed’s room. Step two: sleep with him. But when the lights turned on, it wasn’t familiar blue eyes I saw. These were dark, angry, and full of demons. And they belonged to Reed’s much-older brother. Four years later, Nash Prescott is no longer the help’s angry son. I’m no longer the town’s prized princess. At 22, I’m broke, in need of a job. At 32, he’s a billionaire, in need of revenge.

At 35, Marcus Carelli has it all: wealth, power, and the kind of looks that leave women breathless. A self-made billionaire, he heads one of the largest hedge funds on Wall Street and can take down major corporations with a single word. The only thing he’s missing? A wife who’d be as big of an achievement as the billions in his bank account.

We come from two different worlds. I’m from the streets. She might as well live in an ivory tower. I made my living with my fists. I doubt she could even throw a punch. Our paths never should have crossed. We never should have met. That doesn’t change the facts. I would sell my soul to taste those red lips. Fight the devil himself to hear her laugh. Burn in hell to have a single night. Scarlett Priest shouldn’t even know men like me exist, but sometimes temptation is stronger than will. If this is how I go down, it’ll be worth every second of the fall.

Look, but don't touch.... She might as well wear a neon sign that says it. It just makes me want her more. She might be above me in every way, but I still want her under me. I've got no business touching her rich-girl skin, but that won't stop me from stealing a taste. Because rules were meant to be broken - especially when the prize is so fine. In a world where nothing is as it seems, what's buried beneath these lies?

She's tough, resilient, and willing to do whatever it takes to defend the people she loves, but the challenge of a long-lost father and a boyfriend whose life is on the line might be too much for even Ella to overcome. Reed Royal has a quick temper and even faster fists. But his tendency to meet every obstacle with violence has finally caught up with him. If he wants to save himself and the girl he loves, he'll need to rise above his tortured past and tarnished reputation.

From wharf fights and school brawls to crumbling lives inside glittery mansions, one guy tries to save himself. Reed Royal has it all - looks, status, money. The girls at his elite prep school line up to date him, the guys want to be him, but Reed never gave a damn about anyone but his family until Ella Harper walked into his life.

These Royals will ruin you...Ella Harper is a survivor - a pragmatic optimist. She's spent her whole life moving from town to town with her flighty mother, struggling to make ends meet and believing that someday she'll climb out of the gutter. After her mother's death, Ella is truly alone. Until Callum Royal appears, plucking Ella out of poverty and tossing her into his posh mansion among his five sons who all hate her. Each Royal boy is more magnetic than the last, but none as captivating as Reed Royal, the boy who is determined to send her back to the slums.

It started out like any other morning on the train - until I became mesmerized by the guy sitting across the aisle. He was barking at someone on his phone like he ruled the world. Who did the stuck-up suit think he was...God? Actually, he looked like a god. That was about it.

They said write what you know so that's what I did. I wrote dirty, I wrote erotic, I wrote the truth. And then they called me a liar. But it's not me who's lying, it's them. Our story isn't for everyone. It's not even for us. So if you're looking for the fairy tale and the stupid prince on his dumb white horse, move along. You've got a hold of the wrong book. This is not your story, this is not your life, and this is not your opportunity to dip your frightened little toe into the dark pool of water and "try new things" and then pull it out and decide... #NotForMe.

I'm the guy you love to hate. In every story in my life, I seem to end up playing the villain - and I've got the scars to prove it. That role works fine for me, because I'm sure as hell not anyone's hero. I run my life and my empire with an iron fist - until she knocks my tightly controlled world off its axis. She's nobody's damsel in distress, but I can't help but want to save her anyway. I guess we're about to find out if there's a hero buried...beneath these scars.

I didn't mean to star in a sex tape, okay? It was just one of those unexplainable things. Like Stonehenge, Police Academy 2, and morning glory clouds. It just happened. Now, my ball-busting father is sentencing me to six months of celibacy, sobriety, and morbid boredom under the roof of Boston's nerdiest girl alive, Sailor Brennan. The virginal archer is supposed to babysit my ass while I learn to take my place in Royal Pipelines, my family's oil company. Little does she know, that's not the only pipe I'll be laying....

I’d never forgotten him - a man I’d yet to meet. Griffin Quinn was my childhood pen pal, the British boy who couldn’t have been more different from me. Over the years, through hundreds of letters, we became best friends, sharing our deepest, darkest secrets and forming a connection I never thought could break. Until one day it did. Then, out of the blue, a new letter arrived. A scathing one - one with eight years of pent-up anger. I had no choice but to finally come clean as to why I stopped writing. Griffin forgave me, and we were able to rekindle our childhood connection.