Never beg. Never grovel. Nice guys wind up in the friend zone. I wrote the book on scoring with hot women - literally. I'm the patron saint of players, the Tony Robbins to clueless guys. My rules are rock-solid and my men's style empire spans the globe. Then she walks in. My high school nemesis. The one who inspired the most important rule of all--Love ruins a man. Just walk away. Were my rules made to broken? Or are they about to break me?