4 Reasons Caviar & Crimes Is NOT for You (Part One)

🎵Pour something bubbly and hit play on “Training Season” by Dua Lipa. Because this post is a read — savage, playful, and not for the faint of heart. Consider it your initiation into Luxury Romance.

Let’s be clear.

Caviar & Crimes isn’t for everyone. And that’s the point.
We’re not naming names (because clearly 😏 that would be rude, and this is not about any particular book, clearly 😏), but you know which ones we mean.

So let’s talk about why Luxury Romance is different. And why if you’re looking for “regular romance,” you might as well set your paperback down now.

A Broke-Girl Fantasy? Don’t Know Her.

You know the bookstore barista who stumbles into a masquerade ball? Or the broke girl getting scooped up by a billionaire with more emotional issues than a therapist’s waiting list?

Yeah, well, she doesn’t go here.

C&C women don’t need saving. They are wealthy and powerful with enemies lurking in the shadows. The men who fall in love with them wouldn’t know weaponized incompetence if it crawled up their pant leg asking how to put away the leftovers.

This isn’t a story about rescue. It’s about a man who makes tears run down your thighs, not ruin your mascara over petty nonsense.

The Toxic MC “Hero”? Couldn’t Be Us.

We all know him. The drunk, chain-smoking biker with a patch on his back and a personality thinner than his leather vest. His idea of romance is growling “stay in the room” while he talks business with the boys — hiding you like an unpaid escort waiting for crumpled 20s. But she thinks it’s “protection” from the criminal element.

Cute. For someone. But not for us.

When Ryder Kross holds Cassie in his room, it’s not because he’s hiding her. It’s because he’s protecting his crew from her. MC life is not ready for the corporate lawyer with a net worth bigger than the cash they’ve laundered at the strip club in the past twenty years combined.

That’s the difference, bestie. C&C men don’t keep you in the dark. They know the whole room can’t handle your light. And when he does shut the door? He leaves you breathless, boneless, and babbling. Not babysitting.

So no, we don’t do toxic MC “heroes” here. We do men who protect with lethal precision, worship like it’s their day job, and ruin you in silk sheets before breakfast.

Fetish. Trauma. Played Out.

We’ve all seen it, read it and hated it. The FMC whose identity is treated like a kink. She’s reduced to a checklist of “unusual quirks” her love interest has to tolerate.

No, ma’am. Not here. C&C heroines don’t apologize for their privilege or their power.

They’re not fetish objects. They’re not trauma porn. These women are hurricanes in heels, silk-clad tempests with trust funds and trust issues. And if you’ve ever seen what happens when one of them decides to turn her focus on a man? Let’s just say even the strongest ones walk away with teeth marks on their soul.

And their lovers? They’re addicted to the fire. They know the difference between fetishizing her and claiming her. Which is why in Caviar & Crimes, men fall in love with the woman who makes him whole.

Fade-to-Black Heat? Absolutely Not.

Picture it: 400 pages of build-up, one kiss, and then—fade to black. Or worse, the PG quickie that reads like a lukewarm yoga stretch. If I wanted disappointment, I’d text my ex.

Not here.

Caviar & Crimes is Luxury Romance. Which means when the lights go out, the story gets louder. These aren’t men who stop at a kiss. They’re men who believe in eating until you’re done (you heard me). Flip you over, put you through the mattress, call you their good girl, pour you a drink, and start again.

It’s smudged lipstick, traces of mascara on your pillow (in the best way), and that dizzy little laugh when you’ve forgotten your own name. It’s devotion written in sweat, tattoos, and whispers at 3 a.m. And it’s all on the page, because we don’t do coy.

So if you came here for “and they lived happily ever after” with nothing in between? Caviar & Crimes is not for you.

But if you want heat that burns itself into your memory? Pull up a chair. The jet’s fueled, the suite’s waiting, and the men here don’t sleep until you do.

Here's the truth about Luxury Romance

f any of this feels like too much? Caviar & Crimes is not for you. And that’s okay.

This isn’t your standard romance shelf.

There’s no “her rags to his riches.”
There’s no “you just don’t understand him.”
There’s no “my love can make him better.”
And there’s definitely no “he closed the door and my life was forever changed.”

Why? Because you’re smarter than that. And honestly, you can buy those books anywhere, any time.

But if you’re here sipping your drink, nodding so hard you’re in danger of spilling it? Honey, I got you.

Welcome to Luxury Romance.
Where love is lethal.
Where luxury is lived-in.
Where passion leaves scars.

And this? This is only Part One.

Want more? Find “Training Season” — along with every anthem that scores the Caviar & Crimes universe — on the official Spotify playlist. Because Luxury Romance deserves a soundtrack as addictive as the stories.