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
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Chapter 3
Avery looked at him and didn't answer right away.
Her mind was already working.
Meant for her? With explosives?
She wasn't a security expert, but she wasn't stupid. The villa's windows were bulletproof. The hallway had motion sensor lights. Every corner had cameras. If someone just wanted to kill her, one sniper bullet would have been enough.
The moment she walked out of the study would have been the perfect time.
Using explosives meant they wanted to cause chaos. They wanted to break through the house's defenses.
They wanted him.
She looked at Dominic.
"It wasn't meant for me," she said, her voice steady. "It was meant for you."
Dominic's gaze froze for a fraction of a second.
"I was just collateral damage," she went on. "Or maybe I'm a variable. Something they couldn't control."
The corner of his mouth twitched.
"You're smart."
"I'm a doctor. Doctors need logic."
He looked at her but didn't respond.
The gunfire gradually stopped. Dominic took a call, said a few words, then hung up and looked at her.
"Come with me."
He led her through the hallway into a windowless room. Grey walls. Metal table and chairs. Like an interrogation room. One table, two chairs. A camera on the wall.
He pressed a remote. A screen on the wall lit up. Security footage from every corner of the villa.
"Sit."
Avery didn't move. Her eyes were fixed on the dark screens.
"Three entry points blown." Dominic leaned against the table, watching her. "Two bulletproof windows shattered. They used military grade explosives."
Her fingertips went cold.
The door opened. Drake walked in and placed a phone on the table.
"Boss, we just intercepted an encrypted order." He kept his head down. "Sent to East Pier. Someone's telling them to tamper with your shipment tonight."
Dominic's eyes darkened. "Source."
"The signal came from north of the city. Same encryption as the warehouse incident last time."
"Stay on it. Don't alert them."
Drake nodded and left.
Avery stood there and heard the whole conversation.
Explosion. East Pier. The same night.
She didn't say anything. But she put the two things together.
Right before Drake left, he paused. He pulled out a clear evidence bag and placed it on the table.
"Found at the explosion site. Dug it out of the wreckage. Doesn't belong to the villa."
Dominic glanced down and said nothing. After Drake left, he picked up the bag and emptied the contents onto the table.
A ring.
Black diamond. The letter D engraved on the inside.
The ring was old. The edges showed signs of wear, but it had been cared for.
Avery's breath stopped. She recognized this ring.
No. She wasn't sure it was the same one. But the one she remembered also had the same letter on the inside.
Something exploded in her head.
That night on the casino boat seven years ago. She had been drugged. Her memory was broken. A lot of things were blurry.
All she remembered was moonlight coming through the porthole, falling on the scar on the inside of the man's wrist.
Star shaped. Jagged edges. Raised slightly.
She had stared at that scar for a long time. She didn't know why she remembered it.
Later, he got up. A ring slipped off his finger and fell onto the sheets. She didn't make a sound. After he left, she picked it up and looked at it in her palm.
Black diamond. A letter on the inside.
D.
Avery had kept that ring. Not long after, she sold it.
Eight thousand dollars. The pawn shop owner looked at her like she was an idiot.
But that money paid for her brother's first round of treatment.
"You know this." Dominic's voice pulled her back.
"I've seen something like it."
"Where?"
She didn't answer. Her fingers were shaking. She hid her hands under the table, not wanting him to see.
Dominic watched her for a few seconds. His eyes slid from her face to her hands, hidden beneath the table. He paused for a moment.
Then he put the ring back in his pocket and didn't push.
"Today's attack. Wenger did it."
Avery's head snapped up. "My mentor?"
"Yes."
"He has no reason to-" She stopped. A huge contradiction flashed through her mind, like a thorn stuck in her throat. "If he wanted to kill you, why send me to treat you?"
Dominic looked at her. He didn't answer right away.
Silence stretched between them. She could hear the ticking of the clock on the wall.
"Don't you think that doesn't add up?" Avery's voice steadied. "He recommended me to take over his work. He sent me to treat you. And at the same time, he's blowing up your house. What does he actually want?"
"What do you think?"
"I don't know. But those two things don't fit together. The logic is wrong."
Dominic was quiet for two seconds. He tapped his finger on the table. Light. But in the silent room, it was sharp.
"How long have you known Wenger?"
"Six years."
"Do you think you know him?"
Avery didn't answer.
Six years. She had studied under him for her PhD. Done research. Written papers. He was her mentor. Her guide.
When she was struggling the most, he gave her a teaching assistant job so she could take care of her brother while studying.
But she really didn't know much about him...
Dominic's voice was flat. "Wenger isn't the man you think he is. He was my doctor for years. I trusted him. My medical records, my condition. He knew everything."
He paused.
"And then he had someone blow up my house."
Avery didn't speak. Her fingers gripped the edge of the table. Her knuckles were white.
"A doctor who worked for me for years suddenly wants me dead. Aren't you curious why?"
"Why?"
"Because someone's behind him." Dominic's voice went cold. "He's not the mastermind. He's just a pawn."
"Then why don't you just-"
"Just what? Kill him?" He cut her off. "The man is already dying. What's the point?"
Avery froze. "Dying?"
"Pancreatic cancer. Late stage. He doesn't have long."
She stared at him. A ringing sound filled her head. Wenger had never told her. His pale face. His shaking hands. His more frequent time off lately. All those details rushed back, snapping together like puzzle pieces.
"So you're keeping him alive to find out who's behind him."
"Yes."
"And me?" Avery's voice tightened. "Are you keeping me because I'm his pawn too?"
Dominic looked at her. He didn't deny it.
"You're his student. He trusts you. Or at least, he thinks he can control you. As long as you're here with me, he feels safe."
"So you're using me too."
"Yes." His tone was flat. "Just like he's using you."
Avery's fingernails dug into her palms. Pain spread from her palms to her wrists, but she didn't let go.
"I need Wenger's complete medical records," she said. "The one you had-"
"Destroyed in the explosion."
Her head snapped up. "What?"
"The archive room was in the blast zone. Most of the paper records burned." Dominic's voice didn't change. "The electronic backup is with Wenger. His server. His encryption. I can't get it."
Avery stared at him, trying to read his face. His expression was a wall. Nothing showed.
"You need the records to treat me," Dominic said. "Wenger has the records. If you want them, you have to go to him."
"You want me to go to Wenger?"
"Yes."
"You locked me in this house yesterday. I couldn't even walk down the hallway alone. And now you want me to willingly go to the man who just blew up your house?"
Her voice came out louder than she intended. She felt it. Her emotions were spilling over.
Dominic watched her. His expression didn't change, but she knew he was studying her.
"Do you have a better idea?"
She didn't answer. She didn't.
"Aren't you afraid I won't come back?"
Dominic looked at her for two seconds.
"You'll come back."
Avery fell silent.
She knew he was right. In this city, no one could escape his reach. Her brother was in the hospital. Her clinic was downtown. Her daughter-
Her daughter.
Her blood went cold for a moment.
Dominic pulled something from his pocket and tossed it onto the table. Her phone.
"Twenty four hours," he said. "Don't disappoint me."
He turned and walked toward the door.
Avery grabbed the phone. The screen lit up. More unread messages piled on top of each other. All from Kate, her caretaker.
The latest one, sent two minutes ago.
"Someone broke into the house. Dorothea has been taken."
Avery stared at those words. Her heart missed a beat. The phone nearly slipped from her hand.
Her head went blank. She headed for the door on instinct. A guard blocked her way.
She shoved the phone screen in his face. "My daughter was taken. If you stop me now and something happens, you can explain it to your boss."
The guard hesitated for a second. His radio crackled.
Dominic's voice came through. Just two words. "Let her go."
Avery ran out of the villa.
The door to her house was open. Kate sat on the couch. When she saw Avery walk in, she stood up and started crying. "Two men came. Said they were your colleagues from the clinic, here to check on the child. I let them in. And then Dorothea just-"
Avery didn't let her finish. She ran straight into her daughter's room.
The stuffed rabbit was still on the bed. Crayons scattered across the floor.
She spun around the room. On the windowsill, a piece of paper weighed down. Not Dorothea's handwriting.
"The child is safe. It's time for you to come find us."
She gripped the paper. Footsteps sounded outside the door.
"Dr. Clair. Come with us."
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8.4
Grace, after three years of silence from a crash that stole her voice and family, finally uttered a hoarse syllable. It was her first sound, a breakthrough she desperately wanted to share with Josiah, her childhood protector. Instead, through a slightly ajar door, she heard his careless chuckle, followed by a sharp, entitled voice.
Alexandria's voice sliced through the air: "Josiah, are you really planning to bring that little mute to the banquet? She's a walking trailer park tragedy. It's embarrassing." Grace froze, waiting for Josiah to defend her. He didn't. Instead, he sighed, calling her "a responsibility" and "a lifeless ghost," then pulled Alexandria closer.
The words were serrated blades. Her silent devotion, her self-erasure for his peace, had made her a punchline. He was relieved she was broken. The bitter realization of his betrayal ignited a cold, white-hot fury.
Wiping away tears, Grace met Josiah, feigning her usual submissive smile, and quietly refused his "hush money." As he walked away without a glance, her inner voice was clear, sharp, and resolute: "I'm done playing your game."
9.3
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.
9.4
My brother and his wife slapped the contract on the table, forcing me to marry Alpha Stone. He was a cruel monster known for breaking his mates' bones, and I was just the price for a new trade route.
Right before I surrendered, the legendary Blackwood Pack arrived. But they didn't offer a glorious rescue. They claimed I was the fated mate of Kaelan, a disgraced, wolfless Omega.
My family laughed in my face, eagerly taking the dowry and throwing me out like garbage. They mocked my miserable future, sending me off to a crumbling shack in the woods. When they later summoned us back to publicly demand a humiliating "tribute" to bleed us dry, they waited for me to break.
"Couldn't handle life in a shack with an Omega? Come crawling back already?" my sister-in-law sneered.
But I refused to let them shame him. I didn't understand why the Moon Goddess gave me an Omega, but Kaelan was kind, giving me the only bed while he slept on the cold floor. Why did my family value a cruel Alpha over a gentle soul? I declared to their faces that his loyal spirit was worth more than any title.
Then, a vicious rogue wolf threatened us at the local market.
My "wolfless" husband stepped in front of me and grabbed the rogue's wrist.
Suddenly, a suffocating, terrifying Alpha King's aura exploded from Kaelan, bringing the rogue to his knees in pure terror.
I stared at my quiet, supposedly weak mate in absolute shock. Who exactly did I marry?
9.7
Some chains are forged in iron.
Others in desire.
Sebastian Kol has existed for six centuries. Cursed to burn alive in his own skin every night he transforms into a beast even he cannot control. He wants one thing. Freedom. And after five centuries of searching, a prophecy finally gives it a name.
Leilani Ravenwood.
She carries the mark of the moon goddess on her skin and a prophecy that brands her as his salvation. Her blood silences his beast, and her touch sets him on fire.
In the worst possible way. And in the best possible way.
Furious at the hold she has over him, Sebastian takes her, strips her of everything, and bends her world until it breaks, determined to own what the goddess dared to use against him. What follows is dark and consuming. A monster who has never met his match, and a woman who proves to be it.
But Leilani Ravenwood does not break easily. And somewhere between the hatred and the hunger, the punishment and the pull, the ancient beast begins to suspect the terrible truth.
The woman born to be his salvation may already be his undoing, his poison and cure wearing the same skin.
And he is running out of reasons to care.
7.3
For a thousand years, the Vora beastmen have been cursed by a madness-a burning sickness in their blood that only one thing can soothe: the legendary 'Blood-Blessed,' a human female whose very scent is a living cure.
When a virus wiped out nearly all females, their desperate hunt for this mythical girl turned into a brutal conquest. They crushed our fallen human kingdoms, reducing us to breathing meat under their cruel "Livestock Codex."
To save my little sister from being branded for their elite breeding auction, I took her place in the male-only death draft.
Disguised as a boy, I was thrown into a pitch-black labyrinth, a living sacrifice meant to feed their ultimate nightmare: the feral, half-dragon Mad King.
He tore our steel cage apart like wet paper. I pressed my back against the freezing wall, watching in horror as he slaughtered the screaming men around me.
He ripped the filthy coat from my body, exposing my true gender. As his crimson eyes locked onto my throat and he opened his jaws for the kill, my rage burned away my fear.
I was a pureblood heiress of a dead empire, but I would not die cowering like an animal. I gripped a shard of glass, ready to aim for his eye.
But as he lunged, the glass sliced my palm. The moment my blood hit the air, the legend became my reality. The sweet, intoxicating scent that flooded the dark wasn't just my pheromones-it was the living cure.
The terrifying, apocalyptic tyrant froze mid-strike. He dropped his massive body to his knees, his fangs retracting as he gently, desperately licked my bleeding hand.
His chaotic red eyes darkened with an absolute, world-ending obsession as he pulled my fragile body against his burning chest.
"Mine."
I was meant to be his final meal. They called me the Blood-Blessed. He called me his Queen.
9.3
Ginny was chained to a concrete pillar in an abandoned warehouse, bleeding and betrayed by the two people she trusted most.
Her fiancé, Brant, and her adopted sister, Coretta, had just slashed her face open. Brant coldly admitted she was nothing but a disposable key to a vault, right before he tossed a lighter onto the gasoline-soaked floor.
As Ginny burned alive in the roaring inferno, the heavy iron doors were violently smashed open. Bedford Parks—the notoriously ruthless, germaphobic "monster" of Silicon Valley whom Ginny had always feared—charged straight into the flames. Ignoring the blistering heat, he shielded her charred body with his own. A massive steel beam collapsed, snapping his spine.
"I love you."
He coughed up blood, whispering his final words against her blackened skin before dying to protect her.
Hovering as a ghost, Ginny's soul screamed in agonizing realization. She had spent her life terrified of Bedford, yet he was the only one who truly loved her, while her supposed family laughed at her gruesome murder.
Suddenly, a blinding white light swallowed the warehouse.
Ginny gasped for air, opening her eyes to find herself sitting in the back of a luxury Maybach. She was eighteen again, wearing the humiliating clown makeup Coretta had tricked her into wearing on the day she was brought back to the wealthy Steele estate.
Ginny stared at her reflection, her dark eyes turning cold and sharp.
This time, she would tear her betrayers apart piece by piece, and she would protect her "monster."