My Pretty Little Rainbow was all thunder and lightning, with hair like a damn neon dream and a mouth that didn't know when to quit.

I bought a club in Boston to start over, to drown out the screams of my past with thumping bass and dim-lit pleasures. It was supposed to be simple-remodel the mess, retrain the staff, and open the doors.

Then, she took the stage.

Now, we're locked in a battle of wills, and I can't decide if I want to pin her against the nearest wall or make her beg for mercy. Either way, she's under my skin. Every time she flashes that defiant smile, I feel the world tilt on its axis, and I'm not sure if I'm falling for her-or falling apart.

The more I push, the more she pulls. Into my club. Into my family. Into my life.

She didn't just torment me; she wormed her way into places I swore I'd let no one go. And damn it, she made me feel things I don't have a name for.

I didn't deserve her; I knew that much. But when it came to Sloane? I had never been good at playing fair.

Enemies. Lovers. Or something far more dangerous. When you dance with the devil, you don't walk away unscathed. And if she isn't careful, she'll find herself tangled in the darkness I've tried so hard to hide.

Because maniacs like me didn't get to bask in the pretty rainbows of life. Did they?