My fairy tale turned into a cautionary one.
Inked in tar and sealed in tears.
My Dark Romeo, an all-new marriage of inconvenience, enemies to lovers, standalone romance from Wall Street Journal bestselling authors L.J. Shen and Parker S. Huntington is available now!
From Wall Street Journal bestsellers L.J. Shen and Parker S. Huntington comes an explosive marriage of inconvenience…between a tarnished Romeo and a reluctant Juliet.
It was supposed to be a harmless kiss at a lavish debutante ball.
A clandestine moment with a handsome stranger.
But unlike his namesake, my Romeo isn’t driven by love.
He’s fueled by revenge.
To him, I’m a chess piece. Leverage.
His rival’s betrothed.
To me, he is a man deserving of poison.
A dark prince I refuse to marry.
He thinks I’ll accept my fate.
Well, I plan to rewrite it.
And in my story, Juliet doesn’t die.
But Romeo? He perishes.
Start reading today!
Amazon Worldwide: https://mybook.to/mydarkromeo
I hadn’t come here to find a husband.
Before my birth, Daddy had already promised me to someone, which the diamond ring on my engagement finger reminded me.
This always seemed like a problem for the future—up until I discovered the official announcement on the society pages two days ago. “I hear Romeo is dead-set on becoming the CEO of his daddy’s company.” Lord, Sav was still droning on about him. Were they planning on penning the man’s Wikipedia? “Already, he’s a billionaire.”
“Not just a billionaire. A mega billionaire.” Emilie fingered a marquise diamond on her Broderie bracelet, her poker tell. “And he’s not the type to blow it all on yachts and gold toilet seats or funding self-indulged pet projects.”
Sav snuck a desperate glance at them through her compact mirror. “Do you think we can be introduced?”
Emilie’s eyebrows pinched together. “Nobody here knows them. Dal? Dallas? Are you even listening to the conversation? This is important.”
The only grave situation I’d witnessed was the lack of shortbread, too.
Reluctantly, I fixed my eyes on the two men that parted the thick crowd of silk chiffon and frozen updos.
They both stood at least six-three. A towering height that made them look like giants trying to squeeze into doll houses.
Then again, nothing about them was conventional.
Their similarities ended with their height. Everything else was arctic opposites.
One was silk and the other leather.
If I had to guess, the live-action Ken clone was von Bismarck. Dirty-blond, square-jawed, and adorned with shabby whiskers of stubble, he looked like something only a Walt Disney illustrator could sketch.
The perfect European prince, down to the scandalous blue eyes and Roman-like structure.
The other man was a polished savage. Menace decanted into a Kiton suit.
He wore his inky hair in a gentleman’s cut, trimmed into submission. Everything about him seemed carefully crafted. Intentionally designed to deliver lethal doses straight into a woman’s bloodstream. Sharp cheekbones, thick brows, lashes I’d risk jail time for, and the frostiest gray eyes I’d seen to date. In fact, his eyes were so light and frosty, I decided they had no business coupling with his otherwise tan Italian features.
“Romeo Costa.” Savannah’s voice curled with longing as he breezed right past us, heading toward the table reserved for VIPs. “I would let him ruin me as thoroughly and impressively as Elon Musk destroyed Twitter.”
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