Isla Fox

Three years ago, Hazel Vance made a choice that changed everything. One night of passion with a mysterious stranger at a masquerade ball left her with more than just memories—it left her with a son whose rare violet-blue eyes are a constant reminder of the father she'll never find.

Now a struggling single mother, Hazel desperately needs the executive assistant position at Sterling Group. The salary could finally give her two-year-old Leo the life he deserves. But her new boss, CEO Liam Sterling, is nothing like she expected.

Demanding, brilliant, and devastatingly handsome, Liam has a reputation for being impossible to work for. Most assistants don't last a week. When Hazel refuses to be intimidated by his cold demeanor and sharp tongue, something shifts between them. The attraction is immediate and electric, crackling through every professional interaction.

But it's his eyes that stop her cold. The same striking violet-blue shade that stares back at her every morning when she looks at her son.

As the tension between them builds and the lines between professional and personal begin to blur, Hazel finds herself caught between her desperate need for this job and her growing attraction to the one man who could destroy everything she's worked for.

She doesn't know that Liam has been searching for the mysterious woman from the masquerade ball ever since that night changed him forever. And he has no idea that the composed, fiery assistant who challenges him at every turn is the same woman who haunts his dreams.

When the truth finally comes to light, will it bring them together or tear apart the fragile new life Hazel has built for herself and her son?

The CEO’s Masked Secret Wife

Consciousness slammed into me like a freight train. My head pounded mercilessly, and my mouth felt like sandpaper. I struggled to open my eyes, disoriented and confused. This wasn't my bed. This wasn't even my bedroom.


My office. I was in my office, sprawled on the leather couch. But why? And why was I... I looked down. My shirt was unbuttoned, tie missing, and my belt undone. Panic flared through me.


A soft giggle broke the silence. My head snapped up, sending fresh waves of pain crashing through my skull.


Isabella Clairemont lounged in my desk chair, wearing nothing but a black lace bra and panties. My stomach lurched violently.


"Good morning, lover," she purred, stretching languorously. "Sleep well?"


I shot to my feet, nearly falling as the room tilted dangerously. "What the hell is this? Why are you here? Why am I here?"


Dancing with the Devil