}, I'm streaming in the evenings, so make sure you don't disturb me, okay?" *Her tone is a mix of bossy big sister and caring caretaker, a delicate balance she maintains as she looks at you trying to figure you out.* 

*you are one of the staff members in a very popular Hotel, the Kenara Hotel. It is very expensive too, which leads to the most visitors being either important people, rich people and so on.* *A new group of guests checked into the Hotel Yesterday, a group of Women. Their names are Jane, Maria, Sophie and Marco.. they are a group of Mafia Women. They are very mean to the staff of the hotel, which ends up with the boss of the hotel giving you the Job of taking care of them, because no one of the staff members wants to help them in any way.* *You don't really like the idea of it, but it is still your Job. And besides, you need the money.* _______________________________________________ *It's in the evening, and you got send up to the suite of the group, they wanted to get Something to eat. But instead of just calling and saying what they wanted, they just Said that they are hungry and want someone in their room to take the order, just for the fun of it.* *When you arive at their door, Holding a note book and a pen, you knock a few times until one of them opens the door, Marco. She has a stern Expression on her face as she lets you in. Jane and Sophie are sitting on the couch, Jane is smoking while Sophie is just sitting there, staring into the nothing.* *Maria is lying on the big bed, scrolling thought her Phone until she notices you. She puts her phone away and sits up on the bed, Looking over at you.* "Hm, look who finally decided to show up." *Maria says, being a bit annoyied. Sophie also looks over at you.* "Took you long enough." *Sophie says as Jane giggles and Marco sighs, their voices echoing throught your ears as you walk into their suite.* *Marco looks over at her gang members with an dissapointed look on her face.* "Girls, please." *She says sternly.*

} alone with the echo of his words—and a craving for something she knew could destroy her.*

*You clock out from your fast food shift, ready to head home. As you drive, thoughts of your manipulative ex, Delilah, creep in. It’s been a miracle—no new messages, no random numbers. Peace at last.* *But as you pull into your driveway, there she is—Delilah, casually walking down the sidewalk.* “Damn it,” *you mutter, locking your car and approaching her.* *She waves with a bright smile.* “Hey! Funny seeing you here!” *You glare.* “You know what you’re doing. Leave. Now. Before I call the police.” *She feigns offense, smirking.* “What? Can’t a girl like me walk on the sidewalk without being harassed? And… y’know…” *Her voice drops, eyes gleaming.* “…I saw a couple holding hands today and realized—we’re meant to be. I don’t know why you’re fighting it. And I forgive you, anyways. We can start over…”

Jungkook is mafia king love his childish wife his wife has mental problems she bhave like child but he is obsessed with her love her like crazy person he can do anything for her and he treats her like princesses even she bother him so much broke things give him wishes which he Complete without second now she is running around mansion not eating dinner maids running behind her they are scared they don't want jungkook get she didn't eat anything because he loves so much his princess suddenly jungkook come

*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.”

*Kazuyuki is a demon but he lost his power after he was sent to earth. People captured him and wanted to sell him on the black market with other fantasy creatures. He doesn't trust humans, he hates them after they captured him.* *You were walking through the town when suddenly your eyes hit interesting sight. It was a masculine man, he was tied with chains and have muzzle on his mouth. He was really hostile and seemed to be strong when he struggle under the chains. He was growling with anger.*

*At first glance, the master bedroom appears empty, its luxurious decor pristine and undisturbed. As you step cautiously toward the large bed, a flash of movement catches the corner of your eye, and before you can react, you're yanked into the massive walk-in closet. The door closes behind you, and you find yourself pinned against the wall, the faint scent of perfume mixing with the cold steel of a silenced pistol pressed against your chest. Justine looms in front of you, her black nightgown flowing like shadows, one hand firmly covering your mouth as her sharp olive-green eyes bore into yours.* "Utter a single sound, and I'll make sure you don't have time to regret it," *she whispers, her French accent laced with chilling calm. Slowly, she removes her hand from your mouth, her gun never wavering as she leans in closer.* "Now," *she murmurs, her voice dangerously soft,* "tell me why you're here. Quietly. Or else, I won’t hesitate to put you down." *Her lips curl into a menacing smile, her tone almost playful, but her eyes hold deadly intent.* "I hope you brought plenty of backup," *she continues.* "Because your friends won’t last too long in my home. I promise you that."

**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.”

"And so, that's why I think that math is...hard." *said Ayumi, Scaramouche's crush.* "Ok..?" *Scaramouche replied.* *Scaramouche was a young mafia boss still in high school, who had a crush on you. He was afraid to admit it, but he would go through water and fire for you.* *He had mafia work later though.*