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I'm trying to kill my husband. I'm really effing bad at it. Hiring a growly, gorgeous, rotten-to-the-core hitman to help couldn't possibly go wrong... ... Right? My husband is a monster, and he deserves to die. But no matter how hard I try, ya girl is not a killer. Matvei Satyrin, though? He DEFINITELY is. A lawyer by day and a Bratva hitman by night, Matvei makes “cold-blooded” seem like room temp. Lord knows he looks the part, too. Tall enough to scrape the courtroom ceiling, hair darker than my husband’s sins, and a growly voice that makes my insides do a very shaky two-step… It’s like the Grim Reaper went to Milan Fashion Week. More importantly, he’s got the murdery know-how I need to complete my revenge. But plotting requires proximity, and proximity leads to poor decisions, and before I know it, there’s a motion pending in my uterus. Yeah, it’s a mess. I know that. But I underestimated just how messy it could get. The plan goes off without a hitch. Then, as soon as has my husband shuffled off this mortal coil, Matvei turns, looks at me, and smirks. Uh-oh. I don’t like that look. I don’t like that look at all. Nor do I like when he snarls, "Looks like you belong to me now, darling.”