The Don's Dangerous Addiction

"Take them off yourself, or I will do it for you." Ten sessions. Two hundred thousand dollars. Her brother's life for her body. Dr. Avery St. Clair signed a contract in blood. To save her family, she has to fix the mind of Obsidian City's most feared monster, Dominic Kessler. He's a Mafia Don rotting from the inside out. A bullet gave him C-PTSD and a touch so sensitive he can't stand being touched. Avery is the only antidote who can calm him down. So he locked her in his villa. But Dominic is playing a game he's already lost. He doesn't know Avery is the woman from seven years ago. The stranger who saved him on that dark gambling ship and disappeared before sunrise. He doesn't know the scar on his wrist is burned into her memory. And most of all, he doesn't know the autistic little girl hiding in her clinic is his own daughter. While Avery hides the truth behind her professional mask, their little girl feels his every nightmare. Every flashback. Every crack in his monster mask. When the secrets finally come out, his empire will fall. He'll lose his sight. His throne. The only woman who ever made him feel human. To win her back, he'll have to destroy the monster he became. And help her burn down the man who murdered her parents. She won't make it easy. This is not a love story. It's a monster learning to beg. Why read this? Obsessive Mafia Hero Secret Baby with an Autistic and Gifted Daughter Identity Reveal "Touch Her And You Die" Energy Massive Groveling and Revenge A Heroine Who Fights Back No Cheating. Happy Ending Guaranteed.

Chapters

Chapter 2

Morning light poured through the floor to ceiling windows and spread across the cold grey marble floor. Pale. Like an operating room light.

Avery sat up, her body aching. Her eyes swept the room.

No photos. No plants. No decoration at all. Grey white walls, metal trim. So empty it made her chest tighten.

Last night's memories crashed back. She took a deep breath and pushed the door open.

Sensor lights in the hallway flicked on as she walked, then died behind her. Every door looked the same. Quiet. Endless. Like being sealed off from the world.

At the end of the hall, two black suited guards blocked her way.

"Mr. Kessler said you shouldn't wander around."

Avery stopped. "I need access to Mr. Kessler's complete medical records. I can't make a treatment plan without his full history and medication records. That means going back to my clinic-"

"Anything your clinic has, we have here."

The guard cut her off.

"And any resource Mr. Kessler needs for treatment? We have it here too. Just tell us what you need."

Her fingertips went cold. All the arguments she'd prepared died on her tongue.

After changing, the guards led her to the study.

The study was dim. Dominic leaned back in a leather chair, dark circles under his eyes. A coin turned slowly between his fingers.

When he heard her footsteps, he didn't even look up.

"Come here."

Avery walked over. Her phone sat on the desk, sealed inside a clear plastic bag.

She reached for it. His hand landed on the bag first.

"My caretaker might call the police if she can't reach me."

"The police?" He finally looked up, eyes sliding over her face. "Are you threatening me?"

"Stating a fact."

He stared at her for a few seconds. Then he smiled. The smile didn't reach his eyes. He tapped the bag lightly with his fingers.

"Fine. You can call." He tilted his chin toward a small black box on the corner of the desk. A red light glowed on it. "Speaker. I want to hear every word."

He leaned back. The coin started spinning again. "After you're done, you're going to tell me why you planted a listening device in my car last night."

The air froze for a heartbeat.

Avery's face didn't change, but her heart dropped. He knew. He'd known all along.

She was silent for three seconds. Then she tore open the bag, turned on speaker, and dialed her caretaker, Kate.

"Avery! Where are you-" Kate's voice cracked, like she'd been crying.

"Kate, listen." Avery cut her off. "I have an urgent project. I'll be gone a few days. Follow Protocol Three for the 'patient.' Tell Julian I'll pay the fees on time."

"Got it, but someone came by today..." Kate lowered her voice. "Said he was your colleague. Asked which school Dorothea goes to. I didn't tell him, but he waited downstairs for a long time before leaving."

Avery's fingers tightened on the phone. "What did he look like?"

"Mask and hat. I couldn't see his face. Avery, I'm scared-"

"Follow the protocol. Don't open the door."

She hung up.

She set the phone down and looked up. Dominic's eyes were on her.

"A child?" His eyes narrowed."I planted the device because my mentor told me to." Avery took a deep breath. "He said your previous treatments all fell through. He needed to know your real condition."

"You think I believe that?"

"You don't have to. But it's the truth."

"Wenger." He repeated the name like he was tasting it. "Your mentor. The one who recommended you to me."

"Yes."

"So he planned to use you as a pawn from the start?"

"I'm not a pawn." Avery's voice steadied.

"I agreed to the listening device because I need to track your progress. A patient who won't cooperate? The best treatment plan in the world is worthless. I need data. Not his trust."

Dominic watched her for a long moment. Then he stood, walked around the desk, and stopped right in front of her.

"Interesting." He tilted his head down, voice low.

"But I don't like being played for a fool. I'll deal with Wenger. As for you-"

He stepped closer.

"The listening device? You owe me one."

Avery didn't move back. "How do I pay it back?"

"You'll find out soon enough." He stepped away. "Now go get ready. First official treatment starts in ten minutes."

He turned toward the door. As he passed her, he paused.

"And by the way. What's Protocol Three?"

Avery didn't answer.

He didn't wait. He pushed the door open and walked out.

Footsteps echoed down the hall, then faded.

Avery stood there, palms slick with cold sweat.

Protocol Three was the last line she'd left for her caretaker. When Dorothea's episodes became uncontrollable, use a strong sedative and lock the door from the outside. The last resort she never wanted to use. The only way to keep her daughter from hurting herself.

But right now, her mind was stuck on something else.

The person in the mask. The one who asked about Dorothea's school.

She turned. Her eyes caught the corner of the desk. The little red light was still on.

Recording.

Every word she'd said since walking in had been recorded. Including the part where she admitted to the listening device.

The door opened again.

Dominic stepped back in, tossed a folder on the desk, and stayed in the doorway.

"You said you need data." He paused.

"That's Wenger's medication and lab records from the last seven years. Look at page thirty eight."

He didn't explain further. He left.

Avery stared at the folder. She walked over and opened it.

Page thirty eight.

Just one black and white photo. Poorly printed. An interior shot of a lab. A row of numbered tags hung on the wall. Her eyes landed on one of them.

030.

Her fingers stopped moving.

030... She'd seen that number somewhere in Julian's records too.

She didn't have time to figure out what it meant. She flipped straight to the last page.

Unlike the others, this page had no photos. Even the table was handwritten. Neat handwriting.

Three columns: Name, Number, Notes.

Her eyes scanned down and stopped on the seventh row.

Avery St. Clair.

She thought she'd misread. She brought the folder closer and looked again.

No mistake. The birthday matched too. That was her.

The Number column was blank. The Notes column had four words: Candidate A.

Next to it, smaller handwriting, darker ink than the rest. Like it had been added later.

"Blood match rate 99.7%. Unique antibody profile. Can neutralize residual compounds in Subject 047. Recommend long term observation. Do not eliminate."

The back of her neck went numb. The numbness crawled down her spine.

Avery stared at those words. A ringing sound filled her ears. Everything in the study felt far away. Only those words stayed, burned into her eyes.

What did all this mean?

She had no idea.

But her hands were already shaking. She didn't notice until the edge of the folder cut her fingertip. A thin red line.

BANG-!

A dull blast ripped through the air. The whole hallway trembled. The floor to ceiling windows cracked with a sound that made her teeth ache. Avery dropped to the ground on instinct, arms over her head.

The folder fell from her hands. The last page flipped face up, pinned under shattered glass.

"Everyone, on guard!"

The ringing drowned out everything.

Red emergency lights flickered on and off. Smoke filled the hallway. Guards shouting. Gunshots. Footsteps. All of it blending together.

A hand reached down from above and grabbed Avery's wrist. The grip was so hard she stumbled forward.

"Get up."

Dominic's voice came from above her. He wasn't looking at her.

He pulled her deeper into the hallway. Avery had no choice but to follow. Her medical bag slipped from her hand. She instinctively tried to look back-

"Leave it."

He pushed open a door at the end of the hall, shoved her inside, and locked it behind him. The room was dark. A storage closet, maybe. The gunfire continued outside, muffled now by the walls.

Avery leaned against the wall, gasping for air. Dominic stood by the door with his back to her, listening.

Her eyes landed on his shoulder blades. His shirt was torn. A shallow cut bled beneath it, still seeping.

"You're hurt."

"A graze."

"I'm a doctor." Avery's voice steadied. "Let me see."

Dominic turned his head and looked at her. Emergency light slipped through the crack in the door, cutting a sharp line across his face.

"You're a psychiatrist."

"I'm an MD. I can handle a minor wound."

She stepped forward. Her knees felt weak, but her fingers didn't shake. She bent down and found the first aid kit in the corner, opened it, and pulled out antiseptic wipes and tweezers. Quick movements. Like she'd done it a thousand times.

Her eyes went back to his wound.

"It's not deep, but there might still be debris inside. If I don't clean it, it'll get infected."

He didn't sit. He just stayed against the wall and turned slightly, exposing the wound.

Avery stepped closer. When the antiseptic touched the cut, Dominic's muscles tensed for a second.

He didn't make a sound. Didn't even change his breathing. But she saw it. His fingers clenched once, then relaxed.

She used the tweezers to pull out a small piece of debris lodged near the surface. Small. Not deep. But when it came out, the blood flowed faster.

She stopped it quickly and bandaged the wound. As the gauze wrapped around his shoulder blade, her fingertips brushed his skin for a moment.

It was hot.

"Done."

She stepped back.

Dominic looked down at the bandaged wound and rolled his shoulder. The gauze didn't shift.

"That bullet," he said. "It was meant for you."

Continue to next part

I woke up in a freezing, desolate wasteland, my body weak and covered in sores. A mechanical voice in my head informed me that I was a defective rabbit-mutant, and if I didn't conceive within twenty-four hours, I would die permanently. The terror was suffocating, but the system left me no choice. To survive the brutal cold and the decay of my own heartbeat, I had to force a pregnancy with a stranger. I stumbled through the snow, my fingers turning blue, until I found a massive, wounded Arctic Fox-mutant in a dark cave. He was a Tier-9 predator, dying and radiating the exact heat I needed to stay alive. I threw away my dignity, crawling into his fur to merge our energies, desperate to trigger the life-reset protocol before my time ran out. I felt like a monster, forcing myself onto a man who didn't even know I existed, just to keep my own heart beating. How could I ever face him if he woke up? Why did I have to be the one to pay the price for this twisted, mechanical ultimatum? The fusion was a success, but when I woke up the next morning, the apex predator had me pinned under his massive claws, his fangs inches from my throat. I didn't beg for mercy. I stared into his feral, ice-blue eyes and made a deal that would change everything: I would be his anchor, and he would be my protector. But then I dropped the final, terrifying truth: I was pregnant, and he was the only one who could save us.

Horror Romance Vampire

9.7

He Came Back, I Broke Him

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.

Action Horror Mystery

9.3

Once His Wife, Now His Worst Regret

9.3

She thought their love could survive anything. She was wrong. For five years, Amara Hayes was the perfect wife - loyal, gentle, and endlessly forgiving. She believed her husband, Ethan Blackwell, when he said his late nights were for business. She trusted him when he swore his heart was hers. Until the night she walked into his office and saw him making love to another woman. Humiliated, heartbroken, and betrayed, Amara left without a word - leaving behind her wedding ring, her identity, and the man who destroyed her faith in love. Three years later, she returns to New York as a powerful businesswoman with a new name and a cold smile. She's no longer the naive wife he controlled - she's his rival, his downfall, and his punishment. But Ethan isn't the same man either. He's haunted by the woman he lost and desperate for redemption. And when fate throws them together again, old flames reignite amid a storm of revenge, pain, and forbidden desire. He once broke her heart. Now, she'll make him wish he never did.

Horror Modern Romance

7.6

Pampered By The Sadistic Academy Villain

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.

Fantasy Horror Young Adult

8.7

Taming My Vicious Feral Wolf Slave

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.

Fantasy Horror LitRPG

8.5

The Ruthless Billionaire's Rare Captive Rose

8.5

Alexa Thorne was just an eighteen-year-old girl trying to survive her wealthy friend's sweltering summer pool party. But a violent asthma attack, triggered by heavy cigar smoke, forced her to confront the man smoking it—Armando Holmes, a ruthless Wall Street billionaire and her friend's older brother. She begged him to put it out. He complied, but his cold gaze instantly shifted into a terrifying, predatory obsession. From that moment, her quiet life was over. Armando cornered her in a dark hallway, staking a terrifying claim. He forced her into his Bentley, practically kidnapping her to his secluded Hamptons estate, a gilded cage he called the Rose Manor. When he offered her a dark rose and declared his "enchantment," the sheer terror finally made Alexa run. But she tripped, tumbling down the hard stone steps, breaking her arm and severely gashing her face. Waking up in the hospital, facing the horror of a permanent, ugly scar, Alexa wept in sheer despair. She didn't understand why this dangerous, powerful man had targeted her, tearing her away from her modest life just to lock her in his terrifying grip. "I swear to you, you will not have a single scar." Armando vowed, his eyes burning with dark possession as he effortlessly dismissed her own brother's attempts to protect her. As he personally tended to her most humiliating needs with trembling hands, Alexa realized with chilling clarity: the real nightmare wasn't the fall, but the inescapable, obsessive love of the monster who had claimed her.

Action Billionaire Horror

The Don's Dangerous Addiction

Chapter 2

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