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 3
Misha,
I gasped for breath, and my head got dizzy; that push and fall felt like a bunch to my chest, and for a few seconds, I couldn't breathe.
I turned around and almost screamed when that little movement hurt so badly, and something almost pierced my chest. I think I broke a few ribs.
But there is no time to cry or crawl like a coward here. I needed to get out now while everyone was busy. When this thought hit me, I began to hear, smell, and feel everything around me.
I heard the screams, I felt the warm blood splash on my face and my almost nude body.
I saw the massacre that was happening right in front of my eyes in this tiny room, so I crawled and hid under the table instead and watched the scene in horror.
What pushed me back inside wasn't a wall, but a group of men wearing all black and holding heavy guns.
They were shooting at Franco and his men, and there were some other men in the room. All of that happened in the few seconds I was on my ass trying to breathe.
"Misha! Where the fuck are you?"
"otvet'te mne"
("answer me.")
A man shouted, and I wanted to weep. This was the first time in my life that I would consider kissing Artem.
"I'm here."
I said in a high voice, but then I lowered it because I saw a few men turn around to face me.
"YA tebya uvidel, ne dvigaysya, blyad'. YA idu za toboy."
("Don't fucking move. I'm coming for you.")
My bodyguard said, and I nodded my head in answer, even though he couldn't see me.
I dragged my ass to another table because my spot is exposed now, but then someone dragged me away, and he put his hand over my mouth to prevent me from screaming.
"Shut the fuck up, if you want to live."
The person said, and I relaxed when I recognized the voice; it was Renzo. He came back....for me?!
"What should we do? We need to get out of here. It isn't safe for her."
Dino said as he blocked my view, and I was sandwiched between him and Renzo, and the corner of the wall.
The two men made sure no one could see me and no stray bullets could come my way.
"Let me think, did you tell her bodyguard that we are friends? He is coming our way, aiming the gun."
Renzo said, and I tried to move and push them away to tell Artem that I was ok, but the two men pushed me back, making me wince from the pain of my broken ribs.
"Just raise your hand and make this sign, and he will know."
I said, and Renzo blinked at me, then my hand, but he nodded, and I guess he did because he relaxed.
"Anyway, my bodyguard told me, a friend said there is a hidden door here that leads to the back alley, and we need to find it." I looked behind me, trying to figure out where that door was, and I almost shouted in triumph when I found it.
"Two clicks to your northeast, Artem."
My bodyguard nodded, then he walked slowly to where I told him, as the two men covered me.
We reached the door, but then Artem was tackled, and the shooters focused on us because they were done with Franco and his army that had entered the room when the shooting started.
We kept going, and I pushed the hidden secret door open and screamed when I fell on my ass again because I didn't see the two steps there.
Strong hands helped me to stand up, but I pushed them away and turned around to throw up.
The hands held my back to their front, collected my hair, and pulled it away from my face.
"I don't think I will be able to move. I have broken some ribs, and I think I have a concussion."
He didn't say anything, but I felt something drop over my shoulder, and I was hoisted up, and I relaxed in what I thought was Artem's arms.
I began to go in and out of consciousness. I heard some whispers and sounds, a car's engine, but those strong arms never let me go.
"Now what? What should we do?"
"We will take her home."
"You know this isn't what I meant. I mean, Franco, and what happened tonight?"
"We will do nothing. The person who did it will show his face soon, and we will know who we are dealing with."
The two men kept talking back and forth while I fought the dizziness and sleep.
I remember I saw a doctor in a show that says that when you have a concussion, you must stay up and never fall asleep....
*****
"Did you call doctor Luka?"
"Yes, and he is on his way to Yakov's house."
The voices said, and this made me open my eyes and try to sit up, but I couldn't, so I whined and moaned.
"Dad will kill me for this, so please don't call the doctor."
I said in a barely there whisper, and the man who was still holding me touched my forehead, removing some hair that was sticking there from all the sweat.
"Too late, the doctor is waiting there, and he already knows about what you have done."
The gruff voice said I wanted to raise my hand to slap him, but I couldn't do it; all I could do was just snuggle closer, and that was it.
"Renzo, I don't know how to thank you for saving her life."
"Please, it is nothing, and honestly, I didn't go out of my way to do it. It happens that I was there at the right moment."
"Still, you saved my only child, and for that, I'm very thankful."
I opened my eyes slowly as I listened to the chitchat that was happening beside me, and all the talk stopped.
"How do you feel?"
A man said while he stared at my face, and I stared back without saying a word. I don't know him. Who is this?
But then the asshole put pressure on my ribs, and I screamed bloody murder.
"Yep, she has two broken ribs."
He said, chuckling, and I swore at him as I tried to sit up to fucking punch him in the face.
"So you are still alive, good, because you will be punished for what you have done tonight."
My father said coldly, and I wanted to cry because Dad's punishment is worse than death.
I wanted to defend myself, to say anything, but when I saw Renzo narrow his eyes at me, I bit my tongue and said nothing.
My father cocked a brow at him, then me, before he turned around to talk to him.
"Can we have a little chat, Mr. Valentino?"
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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.