Hi guys,

Sorry, I don't speak English, only French, I use a translator so to send you this message (don't worry, Monster was translated by a real translator and proofreader. There may be errors, but in a few months , Monster will be revised and ready to be published in book (digital, bookstores)

I especially want to welcome you to my universe, where dreams have no limit, where nightmares rock your nights and where darkness caresses the pages until the last drop of ink...

Trigger Warning, this novel is intended for an audience of 18 years and older.

the cover on wattpad is temporary, it's not the official one.

The story contains every horror imaginable and I wrote it to show the deviance (uncensored, unrestricted) not of a psychopath, but a monster (Jonas Somber Jann). I was inspired by the toxic relationship of the Joker and Harley Quinn but in a gore version. So expect a man who thinks he is God, without empathy, crazy, manipulative, but a strong woman who is just as sadistic, who does not allow herself to be crushed by the power of a man.

For those who would like to get to know me a bit, I am Cynthia Havendean, a Canadian author for over 10 years. I have written about thirty books, 13 of which have been published in publishing houses (Canada and France) I have 3 bestsellers, and Monster were each winners of an Award at the Dark Lover Fest in Toulouse in 2022. 😍

Otherwise, a little more about me: I am a mother of two children. I am 35 years old, I am still pursuing my studies in psychocriminology. My goal is to acquire enough knowledge of the field of justice, murderer profiles, pre-crime, crime and post-crime. Modes of operation, studying victimology, forensic science, sociology and deviance, in particular paraphilias. With the ultimate goal one day of being able to write documentaries, criminal bios, victim stories. Basically: real facts. True crime books.

Enough talking, time for the story! 😈

Characters : Jonas Somber Jann & Seyvanna Pavlenska inspired by : Boy Epic and Halsey

Mikhail Pavlenki, brother of Seyvanna : inspired by G-Eazy

TEASER :

https://youtu.be/Xz6FhTLz_ks

CHAPTER 1

Seyvanna

_______

"Pour me another one," I blurted to the barmaid.

She is busy pouring a new shot of vodka that I empty in one go. It's my sixth and I feel my vision blurring and my senses failing little by little. There is a huge mirror on the wall opposite to where I am sitting. The glow of the dim red lights brings out the many bottles of alcohol. I briefly see my reflection. The black Venetian mask on my face and my long, smoky hair blend into the gloom of this club, but they contrast with my emerald eyes. I'm tired of waiting here, all alone. That's why I ask for a double vodka in a glass this time. As soon as I have it, I swivel on my stool; as I stand up, my body staggers. The music is loud, but catchy. A huge "Monster" is written in red neon on a black brick wall. The place looks very gory, with naked girls in suspended cages and that strange blood-red marble floor. The Monster nightclub is unlike any other club I've been to. First of all, wearing a mask is mandatory, to hide the identity of everyone. A very strict rule. Every time I come here; I feel like I'm in the American Nightmare movies. People are stoned and all wearing different scary masks. It feels like it's time for the purge. The Monster is open every weekend for private clientele only; you have to be a member and wear the mark on your wrist. However, it's open to everyone exceptionally once a month. The owner of the club wants to attract mainly female customers, so he offers free alcohol and all kinds of drugs. How do I know that? Because I'm Seyvanna Pavlenska, the daughter of Barron Pavlenski, the godfather of the Russian mafia. My family owns the drug network that supplies all areas, including bars. With a large illegal weapons trade, the Pavlenskis handle billions. My family excels in money laundering, with its offshore companies and the many banks they own. If I come to the Monster once a month, it's to accompany Mikhaïl, my brother, who comes to collect the money that the boss here owes my family. The owner of this place has a sick reputation. No one knows his identity, and no one can get close to him - except for the guys from the mafia who do business with him, but they haven't seen his face either. Apparently, this madman who owns the Monster club makes about a million a month from his business, and the Russian mafia comes to get their cut. A 60% profit. That's why my brother comes here every month. After all, this club is on our territory, he has to extend the money. If the club owner refuses to pay the Pavlenskis, the mafia will blow up his beautiful luxury building hidden in the heart of Moscow. Even if he is protected by many armed guards, my family is much more powerful than this guy. It's a question of power. But he always paid. Mikhaïl is well respected. Since he will replace the mafia godfather officially, in a year or two, since he is the successor makes him an ery powerful man. He is only twenty-nine years old, and he has everything at his feet: women, money, a family that worships him, increased protection, whereas I am the opposite. I'm only eighteen, and the people around me don't consider me as important as my brother. And Mikhaïl is always hitting me and ordering me around. I'm not allowed to get involved in the business, to be part of the management. I get left out. I'm mostly allowed to shut the fuck up. However, I must always be beyond reproach. The Pavlenski genes must be impeccable and never show any weakness and exude the ultimate beauty. That's why, at a very young age, I learned to fight, to know how to free myself if I am kidnapped, to kill a man and to take physical and mental injuries. This is my life. I am now a woman that men dare not approach because of my family. Anyway, I can kill anyone I want. Except a member of my family. Even though I admit that I once thought of killing my brother when I was fourteen, when Mikhaïl got drunk with our cousins and raped me in the middle of the night after sneaking into my bed... He was twenty-five at the time. I have no right to look at another man, to have feelings for anyone or to have sex with anyone. Mikhaïl is far too jealous and possessive. I don't have any freedom and I belong to him; my father doesn't care what Mikhaïl does to me. He once told me, "Seyvanna, consider yourself lucky that Mikhaïl overprotects you and wants you, because if he didn't look after you, you would be in danger and probably already dead, eliminated by our enemies. Your brother exudes danger and power, and no one will dare to touch you thanks to him and his protection. Never forget that the body is only a shell. Learn every day to take the blows, the pain; the important thing is that your soul is forged and becomes undaunted, that no matter what is done to you, you will never be torn down." I nodded politely so as not to be punished and returned to my room without flinching, that night my own brother had just taken my virginity. I respect my father, my family. It's sacred. I've experienced almost every form of torture and now I'm a little more immune. To tell you the truth, I don't care about the beatings; they're normal, as is the violence that has decorated my life since I was very young. I've seen murder, blood and dismembered guys since I was four years old. The age when I can remember it. It's true that despite everything I've seen and experienced, my brother is still my worst nightmare. He is like that with me because he loves to exercise his power over everyone. So, I can't escape it. Ironically, he always wanted to take care of his little sister, but it became an obsession for him, to the point where I became his property, and he developed a particular taste for hurting me himself. People who don't understand my family or their mentality would tell me to run away. But I don't know anything else. For me, this is normal. How can I know how others live if all I know is violence, submission and crime? The so-called perfect families I see in the movies seem so far from reality. Countries where weapons are forbidden, where you have to follow laws and a government, I don't know that. I am in another way of life. And even if I wanted to run away to live something else, I would be killed, because the only way to get out of the mafia is to die.

My father gives my brother more responsibility to participate in assassinations and all kinds of horrors, so that the family stays in power. He is preparing him to be the future godfather. I have to listen to him carefully. Tonight, he forced me to go with him as always, and I am not allowed to go to the bathroom, I have to stay in sight of the cameras in the club, because according to him, it's an ideal place for me to be kidnapped. He once told me that enemy gangs often seek out the sisters, wives, or children of mobsters as a form of revenge or retaliation. I am constantly a target. My family kills so many people that retaliation is a daily occurrence. Honestly, it doesn't stress me out at all. An enemy of the family will always treat me better than my own brother. Besides, I know how to defend myself; anyone who touches me, I will kill him.

I let myself go and start dancing to the music while taking sips of my drink. Under my red satin dress, I'm not wearing a bra. Even though my nipples are visible through the fabric, I am the best dressed girl in the place. The building has several levels. The first one is dedicated to the club, then three elevators at the back, where armed and hooded guards limit access, are reserved for the other floors. My guess is that the guy who runs the Monster is a pimp, and since each floor is like a hotel, there are bound to be girls prostituting themselves in rooms. It's like a kind of twisted nightclub and at the same time a private brothel that hides many mysteries. The girls who work here do it against their will and belong to the Monster's network, even the topless barmaid with her golden nipple covers.

The Russian club music changes and emits a totally different style; the song that was playing was Alpha Omega by Machine Gun Kelly. At that very moment, a little further into the private section with benches, I spot a man. He walks towards his black leather upholstered chair while twirling a strange black cane with a skull in his hand. Upright posture, impeccable clothes, charcoal-colored suit, and black skull mask on his face, he intrigues me to no end. The outline of his head is shaved, except for the top, where blond, even polar hair falls to the side of his face. He looks like one of those DC characters with his enigmatic look and attitude. He is escorted by no less than four hooded men armed with AK-47s. I continue to dance while watching him stealthily. I empty my glass and feel the effects invade me a little more. I sway and let the sweet inebriation flow through my veins and give me some inner serenity. The guy with the black skull mask sits on his chair which gives a general view on the club, like a prince of darkness who keeps an eye on his empire. He has tattoos on his hands and wears a black beaded bracelet. On his knuckles are a dagger, a crown, an upside down cross... His neck also displays ink. This is the first time I have seen him. He stays in the shadows, but still, if it's him, he's not normally the type to show himself. It also means that my brother is done with him. He's got his money; I can leave soon. But I am still mesmerized by this man. Cigarette smoke billows from the opening of the mask near his mouth. A waitress pours him a glass of Jack Daniel's, completely naked, and he manages to drink it without difficulty, despite the mask.

I continue to dance to the sound of the music which invades the place. I am terribly hot. My skin is sweaty, my head turns, my gestures are less and less coherent.

Suddenly, as I lose more and more control of my vision, hearing and gestures, I swivel around and look at all the masks around me waving. These people dancing, completely stoned, don't care about me. The power of the music makes my body vibrate and the floor shakes under my heels. The lights and the masks of horror surrounding me will soon make me hallucinate.

When I look away, the only thing I can see clearly is that guy still sitting in his chair smoking and drinking. I notice one thing: his mask seems to show that he has his eyes on me. He runs a hand very slowly through his beautiful blond hair. I think I know why he opens his club to the public once a month: if he's a pimp and I'm right, he's baiting the girls like this. This kind of evening helps him to spot fresh meat... I hope that the fact that he seems to be contemplating me doesn't mean that he sees me as a prey... Doesn't he know who I am? Even though I can't quite see his eyes in this darkness, I feel like I can feel his gaze burning my skin. The impression of feeling completely naked and vulnerable. It destabilizes me. A delicious and at the same time terrifying shiver runs through my whole body.

The guy waves his hand at one of his guards to tell him something. After a few seconds of listening to his boss's orders, the guard finally straightens up and... the next second, he starts coming towards me! Oh shit... I have a knife hidden in my leather garter and I won't hesitate to use it; that said, I'm not in full possession of my means. Why did I drink so much? Now, his walk doesn't seem threatening, on the contrary; he stops at a distance, signals me to get out of the stride and go with him near the bar. I do so, remaining as much as possible on the lookout for a trap. I also try not to let on that I'm drunk, even though I'm sure I sway occasionally. Standing by the bar, at a distance from the others, the guard hands me a red card with a black skull as a logo. He then leans over to me and says in my ear:

"He's offering you the elevator pass to his penthouse on the top floor."

I turn my head to look at his eyes through the hood. His gloved hands hold the massive weapon. I swallow slowly. This is the first time a man - apart from Mikhaïl - has deigned to look at me without fear of death. My heart is beating a hundred miles an hour. I am anxious. It's not good. Not good at all. He clearly doesn't know that I'm Barron Pavlensky's daughter; otherwise, he wouldn't be playing with fire.

"Uh... No. Thank you, but no. I'm sorry," I gasp, suddenly embarrassed.

"I have to insist," he says, sliding the pass across the bar in my direction. "Everything has a price in life."

Okay, great. He thinks I'm going to be bought off? I'm owed more respect, especially from the club owner who does business with my family, that's insulting.

"What's your name?"

"Dominik, miss."

"So, let's get one thing straight, Dominik. Tell him I'm Mikhaïl Pavlenski's sister. He has no right to approach me or disrespect me. It would be better if he never laid eyes on me again."

As I elbow the corner of the bar to keep my footing, the guard takes his card, goes back to the owner of Monster and passes on my refusal - or my threat, depending on how he interprets my message. I see the guy with the black skull mask get up very slowly, run a hand through his hair and seem to glare at me, as if he doesn't like my answer. There is something frightening about him. Nevertheless, I keep my composure and don't let myself be intimidated by him. I make a sort of bow with a smirk on my face, to send him cordially to hell. Although I can't see his face, I'm instinctively convinced that this guy is as sexy as the devil himself. I can tell from his looks, his hair, his tattoos, and his blood-curdling presence that even from this distance, he has an effect on me. But I don't know what it is exactly. I've never had that kind of thrill. I'd like to see his face, that asshole who tried to buy me like a common toy. I've never been courted, and I've never slept with any man other than my brother. The very thought that this guy would like to get close to me scares me, like I'm a scared little girl facing the unknown. But that doesn't stop me from sending him a dirty smile when I realize that he's still leering at me.

Suddenly, someone behind me grabs my wrist, spinning me on my heels, and I get a brutal blow to the face! Confused, I try to see what's going on, but I'm pulled through the crowd! I manage to find out that the hand grabbing me is Mikhaïl's. He hit me in the nose, that moron! And in front of all these people! The music is too loud for me to talk to him. We walk along a long corridor until he pushes a door leading to an exit towards the alley where our black
4 x 4 is waiting for us. My cousins are in the vehicle. As I get out, I slip on a patch of ice. Mikhaïl catches me, preventing me from collapsing and making a fool of myself. He grabs my glass, smashes it against the wall, and then violently grabs my jaw and slams my back against the frozen brick wall!

"What the hell are you doing?!" he says, pissed off.

"Nothing!"

"Are you charming this guy?!"

With one hand, he rips off my mask to inspect my eyes as best he can.

"And you're drunk, Seyvanna?!"

"I... I had a drink or two. I was bored; usually, it takes fifteen minutes, you grab the money, and we get out of here, but now... I'm just letting you know that I've been waiting for two hours! I just wanted to pass the time and then..."

I stop talking when he blows like a raging bull in my face. His dark irises strike me. His black hair falls under his eyes. He is so tall that I look like a kid in front of him. It's November and the cold outside lets a mist escape from our lips. The scar on my brother's face always gives me the creeps. He was marked by a knife blade from his forehead to his jaw, passing over his left eyelid. He almost lost an eye. This wound that disfigures half of his face was made the night my mother was murdered by a street gang. My brother, at that time seventeen years old, almost lost his life as well, as the killer on scene mutilated him with a knife, disfiguring him and stabbing him twice in the side. Mikhaïl survived. But this horrible mark reminds me that I will always be indebted to him: that night, when I was six years old, he had the reflex, when he saw this intruder entering our mansion, to hide me in a room in the basement to prevent me from being murdered.

Mikhaïl wraps his long, strong fingers around my throat, in front of my cousins, who would not lift a finger if one day he wanted to kill me. His mouth moves closer to my ear; as he squeezes my throat, I feel the threat coming...

"All you had to do was wait quietly for me at the bar. Not only do you drink without moderation, which makes you vulnerable, but as I stepped out of the elevator, I saw you... like a little whore, you wiggled in front of the club owner and then you smiled at him and tried to seduce him! I'm in business with this guy, he's a buddy; if you dare to flirt, he will become my enemy, and that's not good for business. Don't fuck with me!"

As he releases his grip, I can finally breathe again. I sigh loudly, but never show my pain.

"You're overreacting; you saw wrong, Mikhaïl."

Without seeing it coming, a slap hits my cheek so violently that my first reflex is to let out a cry of surprise and to bring a hand against my wound.

He raises his index finger under my eyes and insults me:

"Don't you dare seduce him again!"

He grabs my chin so that I raise my head.

"It's as clear as can be! I understood! Let me go!"

I pull my face to get rid of his grip. Enraged, he abruptly puts back his jacket and tie, as if he had crumpled them, and spits:

"Get in the car."

Mikhaïl opens the passenger door for me, and I slide under the heated leather seat, which is immediately comfortable against my skin. As usual, under the supervision of my cousins in the back seat, there is a bag with the six hundred thousand dollars that the guy from Monster gave to the mafia.

My brother gets behind the wheel and drives off burning rubber.