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 4
Renzo,
I entered the office room following the older Russian man, and my mind was screaming at me to leave because what I was about to hear wouldn't be good.
Thanks to that kid, my night has been going from bad to worse to a full-on mess, and all because she chose to play stripper today.
I had a meeting with Franco, and it was starting to get annoying, then she showed up all naked and waiting to be raped or something.
And even though she was wearing something hiding her face, I would never forget those eyes. Those eyes that shook me to the core when I first saw them.
She was eighteen back then, when I had a meeting with her father as he helped me with something that saved my business. She just rushed into the office without knocking or even asking for permission. She rushed inside with a big smile on her face, he hair was flowing behind her, and her dress was sticking to her body in all the right places.
I think for a moment I forgot how to breathe, and I just watched her, feeling like she was a siren that got out of the water to seduce me. The girl didn't spare me a look; she didn't care that someone was with her father or that he might get angry. She just grinned at him and hugged the older man, giggling.
I watched the scene as they talked in Russian about something with ease; they both were lost in their own world, and I felt embarrassed to be here to watch this intimate moment.
But then Akim looked at me and smiled warmly and patted his daughter's back, asking her to say hi, and she did, our eyes met. Hers are full of pride and daring, while mine are full of questions and wonder. I was lost for words; no woman, not to mention a girl, has had this effect on me, ever. After the introduction was done, she said something in a faint voice, making her father chuckle loudly. My wonderment hit higher levels because this scary Russian mafia boss was laughing lovingly with this little girl.
If anyone saw this scene, they wouldn't believe it, even though they saw it with their own eyes. Hell, even I still don't believe it.
But then her bodyguard rushed inside, he apologized, gave me a dirty look, and then he dragged the girl outside while she spat hateful words at him. It didn't feel right, but after watching Akim's reaction, I didn't mention it. It seems like a normal thing around here.
"I apologize again for all of this. I know that my malen'kaya printsessa has caused trouble for you, but again I'm grateful that you were there to help her." Oh, Little princess.
The man said, bringing me back to reality, and I accepted the glass of vodka he was offering me, thanking him with a nod of my head.
"It is nothing, sir, our families go way back, and I'm glad that I could repay even half of the things you have done for me," I said politely, sipping my drink and thinking about going back home and calling one of the girls to blow some of the steam.
All that happened today was overstimulating. I still feel that I have a lot of energy that needs to be released, or else I won't be able to sleep.
"As you said, we go way back. Honestly, I have always thought of you as a son of mine. So, what are your thoughts about what happened tonight and why?"
I sat, taking a moment to think about the entire ordeal, and again I didn't get an answer. It was so sudden and unplanned. "I still don't know, but all I know is that it was me, the target, not Franco. Franco has always played it safe; he never took any risks, and he just stayed away from trouble. Whoever killed him today did it to frame me. Why? I have no idea." I said thoughtfully, and the man hummed, nodding his head. I think he had already gathered that before I spoke the words.
"What I want to know is if your daughter was part of it or if it was just bad luck?!" I focused on the man who was pacing the room, and my question made him stop and look at me with dark eyes. Eyes that aren't like his daughter's.
"From what I heard, it was her friend's suggestion. She was the one who dared her to do that and the one who also chose that room for her. But they were friends for years. I know her family, and we are on good terms." The older man said, and I narrowed my eyes, loyalty can be changed and bought. People's priorities change all the time, but I said nothing. I will deal with this on my own. I must know.
"Ok then, I asked Doctor Luka to check on your daughter during the day. I left his contacts with her bodyguard. He is one of my men; you can trust him and call him anytime. And about what had happened in the club, I took care of it, my men deleted all the photos and video from the CCTV cameras, all fingerprints, blood stains anything related to your daughter was wiped away, no one inside or outside that place will say or know anything about her visit tonight."
I said before heading to the door, and the man stopped me by holding my shoulder tightly, giving it a few pats before nodding his head, and I left.
I know he has a lot to say and a lot to talk about, but he couldn't voice it out. In our line of work, we don't show weakness, but we carry favors and repay them when the time comes, which I'm sure he will do.
"Where now?" Dino asked me when we left the villa and entered the car, and he started the engine, but I'm sure he knew our destination because he took us back to the strip club.
"Rocco and Dario are already there." He said, and I closed my eyes, thinking again, why did I stay?
Why did I want to make sure that she was back home when I felt things were off, or was it because the moment I saw Franco eating her up with his eyes, I wanted to strangle the fucker and burn the damn club?
"We are here, sir."
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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.