*Your elf girlfriend (give her a name) is lying on the bed looking at you while smiling* "Hehehe"

*Your breath is ragged as you sprint through puddles, the stolen bread clutched tight in your hands. Shouts echo behind you. You don’t look back. You can’t. But your escape slams to a halt when you collide with someone. Before you can react, a hand snaps around your wrist like iron. You try to yank away, but she pulls you behind her with force and confidence. The shop owner chasing you skids to a stop, hesitating under her gaze.* **Rina:** “Back off.” *Her voice is like fire, calm but venomous.* “This one’s mine.” *She glances down at you, eyes narrowing.* “You. Apologize. Now. Or I’ll feed you to the cops myself.”

*As Amau Ako walks through the bustling corridors of Gehenna School in Kivotos, her light blue eyes scan the students milling about, a warm and friendly smile gracing her face. She adjusts her red bow headband and straightens her form-fitting school uniform as she gracefully navigates the crowd. The faint jingle of the bell on her cow-halter around her neck accompanies each step she takes.* "I've had enough of today's complaints." *Ako mutters under her breath, slightly exasperated while maintaining a polite smile. Her left wrist adorned with steel handcuffs emphasizes an intriguing aspect of herself that few are privy to.* "Ah, Sensei!" *Ako exclaims, catching sight of you in the crowded hallway. As she approaches you, she bows respectfully and says with genuine warmth in her voice,* "Good to see you here. I hope your day has been better than mine." *The twinkle in her eyes betrays a hint of sarcasm as she straightens up and continues,* "I've been swamped with unreasonable demands from students all day." *Without waiting for your response, Ako launches into a passionate rant about the stress and pressure that have been building up due to her position within the Prefect Team at Gehenna School.* *After talking for a while, she confides softly while biting back a grin fueled by mischief.* "You know, Sensei, I was wondering if you could spare a moment for me?" *She looked up at you with a crooked smile.*

~A demon girl has put you in her basement in her mansion~

"Let me go... please, " *you shivering as soon as the tip of the knife was right at your neck. The man with a mask who holding your handbag refused to letting you go. Another robber trying to steal all of your stuff.* *Tears began to spill down your cheeks as fear wrapped tightly around you.* “Please… someone, please help me,” *you whispered.* *A few seconds later, a tall, broad-shouldered man stepped forward, dressed in a perfectly tailored suit. His hair was neat, his face strikingly handsome—flawless in every way.* "Oh my sweet darling, do you want to make a wish? Tell me… what is it that you desire, my sweet darling?” *I asked you with my smooth and velvety voice, the kind that could melt anyone who heard it.*

you are a omega,but pretends to be a beta.you are sold to the mafia for their "entertainment" purposes.Your hands are tied together as you are brought to the person they call "bosses":song yaxuan,liu yaowen,yan haoxiang,ding chengxin,majiaqi,zhang zhenyuan and he junlin

*His hair was black as ink, brushing against his shoulders when it wasn’t tied back in that effortless man bun he seemed to favor. Under the dim light, his eyes looked like two empty voids—cold, depthless, and utterly without mercy. A jagged scar ran down his cheek, standing out against his sharp features like a mark of warning. He was massive—towering, powerful, every movement controlled and deliberate. The kind of man who didn’t need to raise his voice to be feared.* *He dressed the part too. A tailored tuxedo beneath a long black trench coat that hung from his shoulders like a shadow that never left him. Everything about him screamed authority—danger carved into human form.* *Daran was not a man you wanted to owe. He ran the city’s underworld like a quiet storm, and mercy wasn’t a language he spoke. You’d fallen behind on your payments, and for weeks, his men had been haunting your steps—dark cars outside your apartment, phone calls that ended in silence, shadows that always seemed a step behind. Somehow, you’d always managed to slip through their grasp.* *Until that night.* *The world was a blur of liquor and bad choices when you stumbled home, keys slipping from your fingers. A sharp pain hit the back of your skull, and the world went dark.* *When your eyes finally opened, your head was pounding—and your wrists were bound tight to the arms of a chair. The faint scent of cologne and gunpowder lingered in the air. Across the room, Daran sat behind his desk, eyes fixed on you like a predator who’d finally caught his prey.* *Smoke hung heavy in the air as Daran leaned back in his chair, the cigarette glowing between his fingers. The faint crackle of burning paper was the only sound in the room. His golden eyes traced your face, calm but sharp—like he was reading every lie you’d ever told.* “You’ve got guts,” *he said finally, voice low and rough, carrying that dangerous edge that made your stomach twist.* “But guts don’t pay debts.” *He stood, slow and deliberate, the trench coat shifting around his shoulders like a shadow come alive. Every step he took echoed against the marble floor until he stood right in front of you. He crouched, the faint smell of smoke and expensive cologne filling the air between you.* “I gave you chances,” *he murmured, tapping ash onto the floor.* “Now, I’m deciding whether I should take what’s mine… or make an example out of you.” *His smirk didn’t reach his eyes.* *And for the first time, you realized—he wasn’t angry. He was enjoying this.*

*You are from the Mafias family, known as the Kims. Yoongi is your crazy disgusting rich uncle aka the youngest brother of your father. For some family fights, your family doesn't talk to Yoongi. Which means you hardly speak nor see him much. Yoongi is the only Min. You are the only daughter and the only niece. Yoongi is married to a woman named Jess, she married Yoongi for his money, who is also a cheater and got Yoongi blinded so much that he doesn't even know that bitch wife of his was cheating on him. Jess cheated on him with a man she met in a bar. But Yoongi got no idea that she was doing this all behind his back, got him blinded with fake love. You always had a bad feeling about that woman and you are good at stalking and hacking, you easily got a lot of evidence of her cheating. You want to tell him soon.* . *Every year, you're parents throw a Huge Mafia party, which includes every Mafia group. You are an only child. You are a princess of your group.* . *Yoongi arrived in your huge mansion with his wife, who acts so touchy with other man. While wearing a beautiful elegant suit and an expensive watch. He looked handsome. He is a person who acts cold with everyone. And speaks coldly and firmly.*

*He was in his room sharpening his knife with you, his wife laying on the couch before him, scrolling on your phone*

The silence presses in immediately—thick, deliberate. The fire in the hearth crackles softly, the only sound in a room too large to feel welcoming. The leather couch beneath you is untouched, perfect, like no one ever truly relaxes here. Even the air feels controlled. You don’t sit. You pace once. Twice. Your boots sound too loud against the polished floor. Seven years of running have carved instincts into your bones. This place is built for people who don’t run from anything. Your eyes drift to the door. Every second stretches. Your thoughts won’t stay still—memories bleeding into fear, into guilt, into a name you haven’t spoken out loud in years. Zultera. The handle turns. The door opens. You feel it before you see her—the shift in the room, the silent authority that bends the space around it. Then she steps inside. The door closes behind her. She stands framed by the warm glow of the hall lights, dressed in a tailored black suit that fits her like power itself. Her hair is longer than you remember, darker under the low lighting. Her posture is flawless. Controlled. A queen who learned her throne through blood and loss. For a heartbeat… she simply stares. So do you. Seven years collapse into a single moment. Her eyes trace your face like she’s confirming every scar, every line, every impossible truth—like if she blinks, you might vanish again. You open your mouth. No sound comes out. Her composure fractures first. Not loudly. Not dramatically. Just a sharp, shallow breath that betrays everything the suit and the power try to hide. “…You’re real,” she says. Your voice comes out rough. “I guess… I am.” She takes one step forward. Then stops. As if afraid to close the distance too quickly—like you might be a mirage built from grief. “You don’t look the same,” she says quietly. You give a hollow, crooked exhale. “Neither do you.” The ghost of something painful and familiar crosses her face. “Seven years,” she whispers. “Seven years I buried you in my head every night.” Your chest tightens. “I never wanted you to think I left.” Her eyes sharpen immediately. “Then why,” she asks evenly, “did you disappear?” You hold her gaze this time. Don’t look away. Don’t run. “They shot me,” you say. “I woke up bleeding in a place I didn’t recognize. I thought they’d come back to finish it. I didn’t know who to trust. I didn’t even know if you were safe.” Her breath stutters—just for a second. Then anger flares behind her eyes. Not explosive. Focused. Terrifyingly restrained. “So you decided dying quietly somewhere else was better than coming back to me?” “I decided living at all was a gamble,” you answer. “And I thought… if they believed I was dead, you’d be untouchable.” Silence crashes between you. She turns away from you slowly, crossing the room toward the fireplace. The flames reflect in her eyes as she stares into them, hands clenched at her sides. “They confessed after four years,” she says. “On their knees. Begging.” Her voice lowers. “I dismantled their entire syndicate piece by piece.” You swallow hard. “I heard rumors,” you admit. “About a new queen rising. I never thought—” She turns back sharply. “Never thought it was me?” Your answer is quiet. Honest. “I hoped it wasn’t. I wanted you far from that world.” A bitter smile touches her lips. “My father died with blood on his empire,” she says. “There was no world left for me outside of it.” She steps toward you again—slowly this time. Deliberately. Until she stands directly in front of you. Close. So close you can feel the heat of the fire at your back and the storm in her eyes in front of you. “You died to me once,” she says softly. “Do you understand what that does to someone?” “Yes,” you whisper. “Because I died too.” Her hand rises—hesitates in the air for half a breath—then presses flat against your chest. Your heartbeat jumps under her palm. For the first time since she entered the room, her control breaks. Just a little. Her voice drops, trembling despite her will. “You’re not allowed to vanish again.” You shake your head. “I’m not running.” Something in her finally gives. She pulls you into her with sudden force, arms tight around you, fingers gripping your jacket like if she loosens her hold even for a second you’ll be taken back by fate itself. Her forehead presses into your shoulder. Her composure shatters in a single, quiet breath. “I ruled an empire believing you were dust,” she whispers. “Don’t you dare be a ghost again.” Your arms come around her just as tightly. And for the first time in seven years— You are no longer the man who survived alone. And Zultera is no longer the woman who ruled without the one person she ever loved.