The Widow's Forbidden Pet

Rosalie Laurent ran a high-end exotic pet import business, and a few days ago, she'd gotten her hands on something truly bizarre—a rare African "Mandrill Hybrid."

I'd never even heard of such a thing. Curiosity got the better of me, so I dropped by her place to check it out.

The moment I saw the creature in its cage, my jaw nearly hit the floor. Hairless, pitch-black, and standing as tall as a full-grown man, it had the face of a baboon but moved like a gorilla, lumbering on all fours.

Rosalie, ever the show-off, decided to let it out for a closer look.

Big mistake.

The second the cage door swung open, the thing lunged straight at me.

I yelped, spinning to dodge—only to trip over the couch and land flat on my back.

Before I could scramble away, the hybrid was on me, arms locking around my waist from behind with terrifying strength. My bodycon dress tore under its grip, and I froze, heart hammering, terrified that any sudden movement would earn me a bite.

Through my pantyhose, I could feel its body heat—unnervingly human, like being hugged by something that shouldn't exist.

"Rosalie, quit laughing and get this thing off me!" My voice cracked, verging on tears.

She howled with laughter before finally yanking the chain around its neck, barely managing to drag it back.

Gasping, I shoved myself upright, clutching my ruined dress and putting as much distance between me and that thing as possible.

But it wasn't done. Spreading its limbs wide, it charged again with that gorilla-like gallop.

Thankfully, Rosalie kept it leashed. It strained toward me, frustrated, before suddenly switching targets—locking onto Rosalie's thigh like a dog in heat.

Now it was her turn to panic.

"Oh my god, is this thing in mating season? It's humping everything! Tiana, help me!" She flailed, shooting me a desperate look.

I couldn't help it—I snorted. "Rosalie, isn't this thrilling?" I tossed her own teasing right back at her.

"Not funny! This thing's freakishly strong—just grab the damn chain!"