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 9
Dorothea lowered her head and went back to drawing. The crayon scratched across the paper.
"Dorothea." Avery crouched beside her daughter.
"Who told you that number?"
Dorothea didn't look up. "I saw it."
"Where did you see it?"
The little girl's hand stopped. She put down the crayon, picked up her rabbit, and buried her face in it. No answer.
Avery didn't push. She stood up and walked to the door. Dominic leaned against the wall in the hallway, holding the pin she had left downstairs. He was tracing the pattern with his thumb.
He hadn't stepped into the room. He just stood at the door and glanced at the drawing.
His fingers slowly lifted and pressed against the star shaped scar on his wrist. He paused.
"That mark," he said, voice low. "It's on that door."
Avery saw his fingers on the scar. She didn't ask how he knew.
"Your parents' lab. 17 North Industrial District." He placed the pin back in her hand. "That's what your daughter drew."
Avery's fingers closed around the pin.
Dorothea had never been there. She had never even heard that address.
"Someone taught her." Avery's voice trembled, but she forced herself steady. "Or someone made sure she saw it."
Dominic pressed his fingers to his brow. The bandage on his arm scraped against the wall. A faint smear of blood appeared. He didn't notice.
"Drake." He pulled out his phone. "Get me everything on 17 North Industrial District. All recent entry and exit records. And Wenger's movements. Everyone under him. Every detail."
"Also, what about the surveillance you were checking yesterday?"
Drake's voice came through. "One of the household staff we questioned last night is missing. The woman who cleans the living room. The one Dr.Clair mentioned, who touched her pocket."
Dominic's eyes went cold.
"Find her. Every exit from the villa. Perimeter cameras. City traffic footage. Dig her out."
He hung up.
Avery looked at the blood stain seeping through his bandage. She stepped forward and reached for his arm.
Her fingertips had just touched the edge when he caught her wrist.
"Don't."
She didn't pull back. "I'm a doctor. Let me handle it. If you tough it out and get an infection, it won't just affect you."
He looked at her. The pressure on her wrist slowly eased.
"The study," he said. "There's a medical kit there."
They walked into the study. Dominic unbuttoned his cuff and revealed his bandaged arm.
Avery unwrapped the gauze. The wound was worse than she thought. The edges were red and swollen. The inner layer of bandage had stuck to the dried blood.
She pinched a corner and peeled it off slowly. He didn't make a sound, but his fingers gripped the armrest of the chair. His arm trembled.
She put on fresh gauze. Her fingertips pressed gently at the edge of the wound. She waited for him to breathe through it.
"Hurt?"
He didn't answer. His throat moved.
She didn't ask again. The iodine swab brushed over the wound. His arm tensed, then relaxed just as fast. She looked up at him. His eyes were lowered, watching her hands. There were dark circles beneath his eyes.
"Dominic."
"Mm."
"You were watching surveillance all night?"
He didn't answer.
She finished re wrapping the wound. His fingers were still clenched around the armrest.
"Your hand."
He looked down and slowly let go. She saw four nail marks pressed into his palm.
"Take your medication on time. At least you'll sleep." She closed the medical kit. "I need you to do something for me."
He looked up.
"The missing maid. She's connected to the mole. There might be others left." She paused. "You're better at reading people than Drake's men. You want me to interrogate them?"
Dominic pulled a folder from the drawer and pushed it across the desk.
"They're afraid of me. They won't say anything in front of me. You're different."
He pushed the folder toward her. His fingertips lingered on the edge for a moment. He didn't say please. He didn't say I'm asking.
"This is everyone's file. Including my own people."
She looked at his fingers for a second, then picked up the folder.
"You suspect Drake's men?"
"I suspect everyone." His voice was flat. "I never needed to check before. Now Dorothea and Julian are here."
"Alright. I'll do it."
The interrogation room was in the basement.
Drake pushed open the heavy steel door. A woman sat inside. Mid forties. Head down.
Avery stood at the door and scanned the room. Steel door. Soundproof walls. Even the door handle was twice as thick as normal. She had seen rooms like this in crime shows. Now she was standing in one.
"Wait outside," she said to Drake.
He nodded and closed the door.
"What's your name?" Avery sat down.
"Marie."
"How long have you worked here?"
"Two years."
"Do you like it here?"
The woman blinked. She didn't answer.
Avery placed the folder on the table. Inside was Marie's file and a few photos of her family.
"Your daughter is starting college this year?"
The woman nodded.
"Tuition isn't cheap."
The woman didn't answer. Her fingers clutched her knees. Her body leaned forward, tense.
"Someone asked you for a favor. They paid you."
The woman's head shot up. "I didn't-"
"You didn't hurt anyone." Avery cut her off. "You just lent someone your key card. You didn't know what she was going to do."
The woman stared at her. Her lips were shaking.
"Tell me when she came to you."
"Last month... She said her brother was sick. She needed money. Just a five minute borrow of the card. I didn't know-"
"What's her name?"
"Leah. The one who's missing."
Avery stood up.
"I-am I going to be fired?" The woman's voice shook.
"No." Avery walked to the door and opened it. "Next."
The second one was a young man. Early twenties. His leg bounced nervously.
"Do you know Leah?"
He nodded. "She's my cousin."
"What did she tell you?"
He hesitated. "She said... someone was looking for something. In the villa. If she found it, she'd get a lot of money."
"What something?"
"I don't know. She said it was a box. Metal. Small."
Avery's fingers paused. Her face didn't change. "What else?"
"She said there was someone behind it. Not Dr. Wenger. Someone higher up." He looked at her. "She said that person knows you. Has known you for a long time."
Avery stood there for a few seconds. "Did she say a name?"
"She was too scared. Said if the information leaked, she'd be killed."
The rest of the questions got nothing useful.
Avery walked out of the interrogation room. Drake followed.
"What about the third one?"
"The third is a driver. Been with the boss for five years." Drake lowered his voice.
"He didn't say anything. But surveillance caught him near the garage the night Leah went missing."
"Who was he waiting for?"
"Don't know. But the garage cameras were shut off for fifteen minutes."
She stopped and looked at Drake, thinking.
"Who can turn off the cameras?"
Drake didn't answer, but something in his eyes said enough.
"Your men."
He gave a heavy nod.
She stood there, gripping the folder. Her frown deepened. Her thoughts were a mess.
Dominic suspected Drake's men. Drake suspected his own men.
No one could be trusted. Just like he said.
Avery was about to head upstairs when Drake's phone rang first.
He answered, listened for a few seconds, then handed the tablet to Dominic.
Dominic glanced at it and turned the screen to Avery.
Live surveillance footage of 17 North Industrial District. On the outer wall of the abandoned lab building, someone had carved a fresh line of text. The ink was still wet.
"Candidate A. I'm waiting for you inside."
Avery stared at the words. She didn't move.
Dominic stood beside her, looking at the same screen.
"Tomorrow," he said. "Tonight, finish going through what Wenger left. The envelope from your brother. You haven't opened it yet."
He turned and walked toward the study. Two steps in, he stopped. He didn't look back.
"Come find me when you're done."
Avery went back to her room. Dorothea was already asleep.
She pulled the envelope from the inside pocket of her jacket and tore it open.
Inside was a photograph.
Taken years ago, at the entrance of her parents' lab.
Avery stood on the steps, holding a book, her eyes curved into crescents from smiling.
Beside her parents stood a figure. The face was blacked out.
She stared at the blacked out face, trying to make out the silhouette. Then her phone buzzed.
A message from Drake. Sent to Dominic, and copied to her.
"Leah's body has been found. Outside the west wall of the villa, hidden in the grass. A ligature mark on her neck. A note clutched in her palm."
The photo of the note was attached. One line of text.
"Next. Your daughter."
Avery stared at the words. Her feet moved before she realized it.
She pushed open Dorothea's door and crouched by the bed. The little girl was asleep. Her breathing was light.
Avery touched her daughter's face. Her nose stung.
Footsteps came from behind her. Dominic stood in the doorway, phone in hand, screen still lit.
"You saw it," he said.
"Yes."
"You sleep here tonight. I'll stay outside."
She didn't say yes. She didn't say no. She picked up Dorothea, blanket and all. He pushed the door open. She walked in and laid the child down.
Dorothea turned over, face in the pillow. She didn't wake.
Avery stood by the bed, looking at her daughter.
"You're not sleeping?" Dominic's voice came from the doorway.
"I can't."
He was quiet for a moment. "Neither can I."
He walked in, pulled a chair over, and sat down facing the door. His back against the wall. She pulled another chair and sat next to him.
They sat side by side in silence. The lights were off. Moonlight came through the window.
After a long time, she spoke.
"What are you afraid of?"
"That you'll die." His voice was very soft.
She turned her head to look at him. He wasn't looking at her. His eyes were on the door.
"You?" he asked.
"That she'll die."
He was quiet for a moment. "Then let's not die."
She didn't answer. She put her hand on the armrest. Her fingertips touched his elbow. He didn't pull away. She didn't move her hand.
They sat like that, in the dark. Neither of them spoke again.
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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."