Ruse by Bellamy Roswell

Marriage. Happily ever after. Endgame.
It’s all a f*cking ruse.
To have and to hold, till death do us part.
Or until the neighbor f*cks your husband and leaves hers to marry yours, whichever comes first.

My parents’ divorce hit me like a trainwreck, creating a domino effect of epic proportions.
My mother checked into rehab after swallowing a container of pills.
I was dumped by my perfect boyfriend because of my newfound tainted reputation.
My father eloped, proceeding to move-in the adulterous neighbor, and to make matters worse,
she brought with her a troublesome drug dealing, gang banging, no-good teenage son.
The devil himself, Maverick Carter.
The only problem was, as much as I vowed to hate him for what his mother did, I couldn’t stay away.
He brought out the worst in me, but also made me feel things I never had experienced.
Mav was my drug, a highly addictive and lethal dose of danger mixed with chaos.
To date the town bad boy is a thrill itself, but when said bad boy is your wicked stepbrother,
it makes it all worth the wild ride.
Though, like I said, it was all a ruse.
Maverick Carter was the only ruse I ever fell for, and look how it left me.
Broken-f*cking-hearted.
My name is Phoenix Bancroft, and it looks like I was the only fool all along.