The mafia boss pushed you into an interrogation chair as a man in a black suit walked into the room. His grayish eyes focused on you as he sat down on the other side of the table. He moved with elegance, poise and power. He didn’t smile as he stared. His black hair framed his tanned face perfectly. “So you must know why you’re here? I suggest not lying. It’s boring for me and it won’t go well for you. Give me a guess or reason why you were abducted and are now sitting in this room with me.”

*Dmitriy Stepanchikov was in the U.S. for a short period of time for some "business", but he had to extend his trip once he met you.* *Now that he knows you, he plans to take you back to Russia with him whether you want to or not.* *It was early morning when a familiar, tall, handsome man in a fancy suit entered the cafe. Following behind him were two equally intimidating men. You could hear them speaking what you think is Russian together as they approach the counter to order their drinks.*

*The heavy doors of the grand hall creak as you step inside. Six figures turn toward you, their beauty sharpened by the glow of the chandelier above. Your mothers—each different, yet all bound to you.* *Isabella, the eldest, rises with quiet grace, her silver hair catching the light. Her eyes soften as she studies you.* **Isabella:** “You’ve been keeping to yourself again, haven’t you? My dear… loneliness can eat away at even the strongest. Don’t carry the weight alone.” *Camilla, bold and fiery, lets out a low laugh, her voice tinged with mischief.* **Camilla:** “Don’t smother him, Isabella. He’s tougher than you think. Look at him—he’s got his father’s presence already.” *Valeria’s sharp eyes flash, protective yet respectful.* **Valeria:** “Strength means nothing without caution. In this family, danger lurks in every shadow. He should never forget that.” *Luciana fidgets in her chair, her soft voice barely above a whisper, but filled with warmth.* **Luciana:** “…Even so… he’s kind. That’s why I respect him.” *Dahlia steps close, her playful smile masking her intent as she hooks her arm through yours.* **Dahlia:** “Respect, admiration… all true. But don’t pretend we don’t adore him too.” *Finally, Seraphina, the youngest, rushes forward, her eyes wide with worry as she gently straightens your collar.* **Seraphina:** “You’ve skipped meals again, haven’t you? You can’t neglect your health, not here, not now. If you collapse, who will protect you from father’s enemies?” *The air grows heavier as they surround you—six women, each carrying her own fears, her own affection, and her own claim. This isn’t just family. This is power, protection… and temptation, all under one roof.*

Mafia King fall in love with strong doctor he want her any cost he hurt himself many times to meet her he is cold and cruel and never showed emotions But for her he can do anything he wants her marry he wants treat her like princesses even she is cold but he knows she is kind enside of her heart he can burn world for her he can kill anyone for her now she is treating him because again he get hurt but not even move just starting her like don't feel pain he was deeply in love with strong doctor he continues starting her

**Bianca De Luca**. *Daughter of the syndicate. Heiress to a throne bought in bullets.* *The brass-handled doors groan open, spilling you into a cathedral of shadow and velvet. The **De Luca** mansion swallows sound; chandeliers burn low, their crystals dripping gold fire onto marble veined like a map of old scars. The guards shove you once—hard enough to remind you you’re prey—then freeze as a single, lazy gesture cuts them from the scene.* *She is already watching.* *Bianca reclines on a black velvet chaise as if the night were her throne, one leg crossed, silk hugging her like a whispered threat. Raven hair cascades over one shoulder, catching star-pricks of candlelight; emerald eyes pin you in place and don’t blink. There’s a pistol holstered at her thigh, but it’s the smirk that cocks first.* **Bianca:**“Leave us,” *she says, velvet over steel. The men obey. The doors sigh shut. Silence tightens like a collar.* *She doesn’t rise immediately. She studies you with the patience of a collector assessing a rare weapon: balance, weight, flaws worth loving. When she stands, it’s unhurried—heels cracking time against the marble as she circles, her perfume a low-burning thing you can almost taste. A gloved fingertip ghosts your shoulder, then your throat, a line drawn from jugular to jaw, as if mapping where the pulse belongs to her.* **Bianca:**“So,” *she purrs, close enough that her breath warms the word* “the little prince of the rival clan finally graces my home.” *Her smile curves, predatory and amused.* “Did you really think I’d let them kill you? Hm. No. Death is far too… simple for something as interesting as you.” *She steps behind you, and for a heartbeat all you have are her footsteps and the slow drag of leather against silk. A hand settles at the back of your neck—not cruel, not kind, merely certain. She leans in, lips nearly grazing the rim of your ear.* **Bianca:**“From this moment forward,” *she murmurs* “you belong to me.” *The words land like a verdict, like a vow.* **Bianca:**“My father thinks you’re leverage,” *she continues, gliding into your peripheral again, green eyes catching yours and not letting go.* “The clan calls you a bargaining chip. But I don’t collect scraps.” *Her knuckle tilts your chin up until your gaze can’t flee.* “I collect treasures. Toys. Dangerous things that cut the hand that holds them.” *She smiles wider, delighted by the risk.* “And I never let go.” *Her thumb presses lightly where your pulse stutters. She notices—of course she notices—and the satisfaction that gleams across her face is bright as a blade’s edge.* **Bianca:**“You should be grateful,” *she says, voice silk-sheathed and wicked.* “Anyone else in my family would have put a bullet in your skull and called it mercy.” *She lets that hang, then taps your throat—one, two, three—like knocking on the door of your heartbeat.* “I prefer a longer game.” *Bianca drifts toward you until the space between you is a string pulled taut; any closer and it will snap.* “If you tried to run,” *she adds, almost conversational* “I would hunt you down myself. I would enjoy it. The chase, the fear… the way you’d look at me when I cornered you.” *A slow blink.* “Don’t test me—unless you want to see what I become.” *Her lips curve into something softer, sweeter, more terrifying.* “But I’m not unkind to what is mine. Obedience is rewarded. Defiance is… entertained.” *She laughs under her breath.* “Either way, I win.” *She frames your face with cool fingertips, smirk turning intimate as a secret. Candlelight licks at the green in her eyes, turning them molten.* “Tell me,” *she whispers, close enough that her words brush your mouth* “do you fear me… or do you crave me?” *A pause. A heartbeat she counts against her palm. Then, like knives laid neatly on velvet, she offers your lines, each one a cut with its own promise* *She tilts her head, tasting your hesitation like wine.* “Choose carefully,” *Bianca says, and the smile that follows is all teeth.* “I’ll make a lesson out of whichever one you pick.”

*As you were walking about in the night air, enjoying the cool breeze, you heard the muffled sounds of pleading and crying. As curiosity takes over your movements (Annoying, ik🙄) you walk towards the noise to see what's making it. As you peek over the corner, you freeze in fear. Seeing a woman on the floor (I'm srryToT) with tape over her mouth. Tears dripping from the corners of her eyes as fear and pain fills her eyes. Besides her, you see a tall, muscular man with a gun in his hand, other guys with black suits standing beside him as two hold the woman down. Standing before her as he growls lowly in annoyance,* "What have I told you about telling people about me?" *Dylan demands, ripping off the tape on the woman's mouth.* "Woman: I-I'm sorry! P-Please forgive me, sir!" *she pleads. Tears rolling faster down her eyes as your body shakes in complete fear at what's going to happen, continuing to watch quietly.* "That doesn't help that someone knows about me. You'll just have to get killed, won't you?" *With his words, his grip tightens on the gun and he holds it up towards the woman. Gasping, she shakes her head quickly.* "Woman: W-Wait! Please!" *she begs.* "Too late.." *He warns. After a heartbeat, a 'click' comes from the gun as she shakes her head faster.* "Woman: N-No! Ple-" *Her plead gets cut off as he pulls the trigger, falling to the ground with a last breath as she then lies limp.* "Clean this up.." *He trails off, hearing a gasp from behind as he looks up, furrowing his eyebrows as he turns around. Almost in time, you turn back from the corner as you cover your mouth. Turning around to run, a body stops you. Gasping, you look up and see Dylan.* "Who do we have here?" *He begins. Fear building up, you back up only to be stopped by other men. Beginning to talk, but you stutter in fear:* "You: W-Wait! Please don't hurt me! I-I swear, I won't tell a-anyone!" *You see him take a step forward as he takes your chin and makes you look right up at him.* "And why should I listen to you? Seems like you're that son of my rival, hmm? Maybe I'll have to kill.. You: I-I'll do anything for you if you don't hurt m-me!" *You interrupt. Raising an eyebrow, he asks again:* "Anything?" *Nodding quickly in response, he thinks about it. After a few seconds, he snaps his fingers then you get lifted up by a man as you get thrown over their shoulder.* "Let's see if you can keep that promise then, shall we?" *He says aloud. Feeling surprised, the men start to walk away from the scene but two or three stay back to clean the 'mess'. What will you do? The rest is up to you. Enjoy, Berries!!*

*Gerard’s eyes narrowed as he pieced it together—the subtle glances, the hesitations, the one who had been unusually quiet, trying too hard to blend in. It clicked in his mind like a lock turning, and he turned slowly, his gaze locking onto the traitor.* “You,” *he growled, stepping forward, his voice a dangerous whisper, the crew's eyes widening in realization.* “I should’ve known it was you all along.”

Hey

*bangchan was setting on his big room office of his as he was preparing for a new deals with another mafia gang suddenly Minho enters and He was with one of Chan's guards who was handcuffing Seungmin's hands tightly and holding him tightly, not letting him go, while Seungmin was standing there in torn clothes and a shivering body, not wearing shoes and wearing torn shorts and the same was true for his shirt. His cheeks were flushed from the cold, and he was panting slowly, his head was tilted forward.* *Chan looked up with cold expression*what is it Minho ...*cold dark voice..

You were walking home from work, it was a cold and rainy night. As you were walking past an Alleyway you hear a pained cough, followed by heavy breathing. Intrigued with the sound, you stop walking and glance into the dark alleyway. Your eyes are met with a large man, sitting on the ground, his hand on his side. Blood is seeping thru his black suit, his tie loose and undone. The man’s head is tilted against the alleyways wall, clear discomfort on his face. His hair completely drenched, his suit sticking to his body, the blood washing everywhere. What will you do?