Dangerous Love: My Pet Princess
"And that is the reason why I said those words. I like your fear, not because it is a normal thing. I love it because deep down you are a monster like me, schiava. You fear me on a primal level, you can feel my power and dominance, and you know you aren't the strongest here. So you don't fear Renzo Valentino the human, you fear the monster that lurks inside."
My life changed the night of my birthday. What started as a funny dare ended with blood and having a price on my head.
I thought Renzo was the hero who saved me that night, but he was the devil who owned me forever.
I, Misha Yakov, princess of the Russian mafia became Renzo Valentino's slave.
He broke me, tortured me, and molded me into something new, something I hated and craved at the same time.
I, Misha Yakov became my master's pet.
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Chapter 1
"What would you choose, a man who would die for you, or a man who would kill for you?"
Misha POV
"Miss, vy ne mozhete etogo sdelat'"
("Miss, you can't do that.")
The hulk of a man in front of me and behind the wheel said, and I just ignored him as I thought about what my friend Sonya was suggesting.
I have never done that before, and honestly, it might be.... hmmm, refreshing from this stiff, boring life of mine.
I thought deeply as I bit my lower lip while the man in the front gritted his teeth in annoyance. I know because I heard them even though he was facing the road.
"C'mon, Misha, you didn't want to have a birthday party like every year and wanted to try something new, and honestly, what I'm suggesting is just perfect."
Sonya said in a begging but daring voice and I mulled the thought again cause she wasn't wrong.
"Your father won't like that, miss, and honestly, I don't either. So please let us go back home."
My bodyguard Artem said, and I rolled my eyes while focusing on him as he drove.
"I will do whatever the fuck I want, my father gave me the green light and specifically said go knock yourself off."
I said, then nodded my head at Sonya, making her scream in happiness because I was going to do it. No one dares me.
"Artem, please take us to Sonya's strip club."
I ordered the man, and I saw his body go rigid, but he didn't say anything because it was not his place to do so.
My father gave him to me to protect me and cater to all my needs, and that is it. If I told him to stop the car and just stand in the middle of the road for me to run him over, he would.
And in about fifteen minutes, we were there, and we got out of the car, my body buzzing from all the excitement.
"Misha, are you sure about this? I mean, your father won't like it, I think."
Suzan, our friend who is mostly silent and barely says anything, said as she gave my bodyguard a fleeting look, making him nod his head in approval.
"Nah, he never gets mad at me. Besides, I have that ox to protect me, so don't be a pussy and let us do it."
I said as I followed Sonya, who led us to the VIP entrance, and the bouncers there let us in without saying a single word.
"I know how much he loves you, but this....this is different, anything can happen. Here are all kinds of people, we might....someone might......"
Suzan spoke again in a shaky voice and I understood what she wanted to say, but honestly, nothing will change my mind now.
"Look, do you see this gun? And this, do you see how big and full of muscles this man is?"
I said as I showed her Artem's gun and showed her his packed stomach. The man was built like a tank.
I mean, even the bouncers in this club fade beside him; nothing and no one can even look our way.
I waved at her dismissively, then focused on the place, looking around with a huge smile on my face.
I'm not new to this kind of life, but at the same time, I don't indulge myself because it is not my thing.
I might have been a mafia girl, but we have rules too. My father wanted me to have my degree and then focus on building a career. He isn't like those mafia bosses you see on TV, the ones who marry their daughters off to create alliances or force them into this life. He prefers that I have a happy, simple life, and he will find an heir for him, maybe a distant cousin or something, because I'm an only child.
"So it will go like this. You will change your clothes into something sexy, and I will find you a vip client. Your mission is to get something from him. Be it a black card, ring, or a watch, anything that is expensive."
Sonya said, and I grinned at her. The bitch was daring me to strip dance and seduce someone wealthy, and I would do it on one condition.
"If I win, you will do whatever I tell you, do you agree?"
I said, licking my lips and waiting for her answer, even though I knew that she would agree, I needed to hear it and let the other two be my witnesses.
"OK, as long as it is not something outrageous like running naked in the street." She said, and I giggled because this was stupid; what I was about to ask from her was way simpler and easier.
"Nah, you will just fuck Artem, that is all." I said, grinning again, and a laugh escaped me when I saw my bodyguard blink at me in surprise, and then his nostrils flared from anger.
"It is up to you to decide, I'm not gonna force you to do it." I said as I turned around and left the fuming man behind me. I know he would never do it, but this was my way to get him back.
He has been a pain in my ass for a few months now, and I don't know why.
He watched what I eat, drink, or wear. He put pressure on me as we trained. He even asked the men in the mansion to annoy me whenever they got the chance, and we ended up fighting each time.
And whenever I went to my dad to complain, he told me to suck it up and just listen to whatever that nasty fucker said. Sometimes I think that Artem is my half-brother or something because my dad loves him so much.
I sighed, then I watched myself in the mirror after I wore what one of the girls handed me.
I admired my figure and my pale complexion in the mirror, then turned around a couple of times. I think it is time for me to get a tan.
But overall, this flimsy fishnet thing was cute, and it highlighted my curvy body.
I came out of the dressing room, and the girls had different reactions. One had her hand over her mouth in surprise, then her face went tomato red.
While the other was screaming and saying nonsense, I think she liked what I was wearing.
While the ox man was blinking at me in disbelief, his mouth opened a couple of times, but nothing came out.
"C'mon, I found a room for you. He is one of our regulars, but let us hide your face first. I know I was the one who dared you to do it, but I don't want anyone to know your identity."
Sonya said, and I just shrugged because I didn't care if the person inside knew me or not. This was a one-night thing, just for fun, but, I was very wrong.
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9.3
Halie woke up to a sharp pain and a terrifying reality. She was in a new body, her face covered in a hideous web of scars, and her spiritual power reduced to a pathetic D-Class.
Before she could even process the memories of being framed, her bedroom doors were violently kicked open.
Her sister Seraphina sauntered in with a venomous sneer, followed closely by Halie's S-Class fiancé, Jett.
"Look at the disgrace of the Avila family. What a waste," Seraphina mocked, throwing a mirror at her bed.
"I can't be tied to a cripple. As an S-Class, I have to break our engagement," Jett added, his gaze full of disgust.
The nightmare didn't stop there. Her father called, screaming about how she had shamed the family name. He officially stripped her of her inheritance, froze all her accounts, and exiled her to the decaying Southern District to rot.
To make matters worse, a cold, mechanical voice suddenly echoed in her skull, warning her of an impending genetic collapse. Without an immediate energy infusion, she would face total organ failure in thirty days.
A ruined face, a treacherous family, a world that wanted her dead, and a literal death clock ticking in her brain. The original owner had died in absolute despair, a tragic victim of sheer cruelty.
But if they thought she would just sit there and die, they were severely mistaken.
Armed with a mysterious system and her brilliant scientist mind from her past life, Halie packed her bags. She chose the craziest survival quest: head to the slums, find the exiled, sterile S-Class "madman" Coleman, and cure him to harvest his life energy. It was time to start her counterattack.
9.2
At the absolute summit of her pop-star career, the stage collapsed beneath Catherine's feet, plunging her into a mechanical black hole.
When she opened her eyes, she wasn't in a hospital, but a savage, primitive forest.
Before a fire-breathing beast could tear her apart, a massive black snake crushed it with a single strike.
The terrifying serpent then transformed into Amon, a towering, heavily scarred man with golden slitted eyes, who swore his life to protect her.
He brought her to his tribe, but instead of safety, they were met with ravenous hunger and disgust.
The tribe's males stared at Catherine's fragile human body like a rare breeding prize, while treating Amon like garbage.
"He's a cursed, cold-blooded freak! His rut will tear you to pieces!"
The Chief sneered, pointing a thick, accusing finger at Amon.
"By tribal law, you must mate with our strongest tiger and bear shifters to give us powerful cubs!"
Humiliated, Amon's broad shoulders slumped, his fists trembling in suffocating shame as he prepared to back away.
Catherine's heart pounded with fierce, burning anger.
When she was about to be eaten, Amon was the only one who bled for her.
Where were these arrogant bullies then? Why should she let them treat her savior like a monster?
As the tribe's strongest warriors swarmed forward to claim her, Catherine stepped directly in front of Amon's lethal claws.
"I don't need any of you," she declared, her voice cutting through the chaos.
"I will mate with Amon and take his beast mark today!"
9.7
Eighteen months ago, the man I loved shattered my heart, claiming everything between us was a mistake. Now, he's back, a ghost of his former self, a rookie tryout in my pro esports team. And I will make him regret crawling back.
Clifton, captain of a legendary esports team, was secretly battling a severe wrist injury that threatened his career, every match a fight against his own body. He pushed through the pain, ignoring doctors' warnings, desperate to maintain his god-like status.
His world was already on the edge, but nothing prepared him for seeing Justice Terry again in the team basement. Justice, pale and trembling, his eyes wide with naked terror, was now a rookie tryout.
Clifton had spent a year and a half trying to forget that rainy Chicago alley, the raw revulsion in Justice's eyes, the whispered "it wasn't real" that had left him heartbroken. Justice had vanished, and Clifton had erased every trace. Now, the boy who once looked at him like he was the sun was back, flinching at his touch, displaying a deep, primal fear. Amidst sponsor pressure and whispers of being "washed," Clifton saw Justice's return as a chance for vengeance. He publicly humiliated Justice on a live stream, forcing him into a suicide mission, then coldly benched him.
Yet, the satisfaction never came. Instead, a hollow emptiness and a torrent of questions: What had truly happened in the past? Why was Justice here, and what trauma had carved such fear into his bones?
Clifton, unwilling to be fooled again, swore to uncover every secret and every lie. He would force Justice to explain why he had returned, even if it meant tearing down everything they both had left.
7.6
I woke up to the suffocating smell of copper and sulfur, my fingers wrapped around a blood-soaked leather whip.
Hanging from an obsidian cross in front of me was a boy with silver hair and dead, golden eyes.
His pale chest was torn open to the bone.
I recognized those eyes immediately. I had spent three years describing them on my laptop.
He was Kamari Monroe, the tragic, overpowered protagonist of my own web novel.
And I wasn't just a bystander. I was Benedict Guerrero, the sadistic academy headmaster. The ultimate villain.
A reel of images flashed in my mind: my original ending. Kamari, fully awakened, skinning me alive and burning my soul in a furnace for forty-nine days.
My loyal attack dog, Gideon, stepped forward with a basin of glowing green liquid.
"Headmaster, let me wake him up with this bone-rot acid so you can resume."
If that acid hit Kamari, his hatred would become permanent. My gruesome death would be sealed.
But if I broke character and apologized, the magical world would sense the shift, and Kamari would just think it was a sicker, more twisted trap.
How was I supposed to survive a death sentence I wrote myself?
I couldn't show weakness. I had to play the monster to survive.
Suppressing my terror, I smashed the acid basin, healed his ruined flesh with agonizing dark magic, and lied straight to his face.
"Someone had to be the monster to push you into the fire."
This time, I will rewrite my own fate.
8.7
Kaylee woke up to the smell of rotting leaves and blood, realizing she had transmigrated into the grimdark fantasy novel she was reading last night.
A robotic system in her head immediately delivered a death sentence: she was the tribe's vicious cannon fodder, and the male lead—a brutally tortured slave named Elijah—was currently dying on a totem pole outside.
"If he dies, you will face instant soul-detonation."
Kaylee rushed to the plaza, using her villainous authority to stop the execution and drag his mangled body back to her hut.
But saving him was a nightmare.
The original owner's sadism had traumatized him so deeply that her gentle touches and clean bandages only triggered his PTSD.
His feral energy spiraled out of control, his golden eyes burning with paranoid terror as he waited for a new, twisted psychological game.
To keep his energy from detonating and killing them both, Kaylee was forced to act like a monster.
"I didn't save you because I care. A dead slave is useless to me."
Only her cruel insults and threats of future torture calmed his broken mind.
Adding to her despair, she stumbled upon the novel's supposedly innocent heroine in the forest, only to hear her system detect a terrifying anomaly.
The fragile heroine had her own cheat system.
Trapped with a paranoid future-tyrant and a rival player manipulating the tribe's strongest warriors, Kaylee shoved a bowl of hot stew at the bleeding slave with a mocking sneer.
To survive this hell, she had to play the villain perfectly.
7.5
Julianna was drowning in a corporate warzone, fighting a massive department deficit while fending off her mother’s relentless matchmaking.
Then, a ghost from her past returned to shatter her reality.
Eight years ago, Aidan Caldwell walked out of her life without a word. Now, he was back in New York as a ruthless billionaire, and a pitch-black Maybach started stalking her in the dim underground garage.
She had no idea the driver hiding behind the obsidian-tinted glass was Aidan.
She didn't know he had just choked a confession out of an executive, discovering that her "betrayal" eight years ago was a complete lie.
"Stay away from her. The rules are mine now."
Aidan had warned his rivals, his sanity tearing at the seams as he watched from the shadows while a creepy coworker put an arm around her shoulder.
He shattered glasses and crushed her favorite white flowers in his penthouse, driven by a lethal, obsessive jealousy seeing other men touch what belonged to him.
Julianna was completely in the dark, feeling only a heavy, predatory stare pinning her to the cold concrete.
When a sudden, heartbreaking scent of cedarwood rolled out of the cracked car window, her brain short-circuited.
Why was this terrifying stranger stalking her in the shadows?
Desperate to save her career, Julianna recklessly agreed to fake an engagement with a wealthy heir this weekend.
But she had no idea Aidan had already rigged her company's crisis, and the predator was about to tear her world apart to claim her back.