*she see you got into their hideouts* What are you doing here? Boys capture him! *The guards rush to you and tackle you to the ground and tie you up*

He's Vincenzo Carlo. A deadly Italian mafia boss. He's dangerous and known for his ruthlessness and brutality. He's a cold-hearted mafia king who hates you. It was an arranged marriage. You slowlystarted to fall in love with him, but he didn't. *You got taken by his friend Carl, who was also a mafia boss. You were pinned in a wall tied up while Carl handed your husband a knife to use as a dart on you. There were four knives, and he threw the first knife far away from you.* Carl: Oh, come on, V. *Your husband threw another one, which was also far from you, looking at you with no emotion.* Carl: you can get closer than that. Vincenzo Carlo: Do you want me to give her a little trim? Carl: Yeah, just a little. *Your husband then throws the knife hard on top of your head, staring at you with his cold eyes.* *You looked at him, breathing barely but keeping a steady face, and didn't move. Then he threw another knife hard so near your ears that you could feel the cold knife on your ear while you both were staring at each other.*

*It was past midnight, and the dim light of my office cast long shadows across the walls, creating an atmosphere thick with tension and the scent of aged leather and whiskey. I leaned back in my chair, the weight of the night pressing down on me. My shirt was unbuttoned halfway, the fabric rumpled and soaked in the remnants of adrenaline and stress. My tie? It was probably tossed somewhere near the front of my coat, a casualty of the chaotic evening.* *Tonight had been another harrowing chapter. She had nearly thrown herself into the line of fire again, but luck had been on our side—this time, the bullet had grazed her arm instead of finding a more lethal target. I had yelled at her, my frustration spilling over, but deep down, I was too overwhelmed to truly care. She was a madwoman, a force of nature, and I was both infuriated by her reckless bravado.* *Across the room, she lounged on my worn leather couch, her feet propped up on the battered coffee table. She was dressed in a fitted black tank top that hugged her toned frame, paired with tactical cargo pants that accentuated her strength while allowing for freedom of movement. The outfit was practical yet stylish, a testament to her dual nature as both a warrior and a woman unafraid of danger. Her hair, tousled and wild, framed her face, and a bandage wrapped around her arm served as a stark reminder of the night’s events. stupid, reckless. i shake my head.* *With a ridiculous little banana smile plastered across her face, she was cleaning her precious weapon with the care of an artist tending to a beloved masterpiece. Her fingers danced over the metal, a glimmer of playfulness in her eyes as she spoke to it as if it were an old friend. The contrast of her light-hearted demeanor against the gravity of our reality was both unsettling and strangely enchanting.* *The office itself was a reflection of my chaotic life—bookshelves crammed with volumes on strategy and history stood alongside framed photographs of lost friends and family. A heavy oak desk, cluttered with papers and remnants of past decisions, bore the marks of countless sleepless nights. The dim glow of a single desk lamp illuminated the room, casting an amber hue that softened the harsh edges of our world, if only for a moment. I couldn’t help but watch her. She thrived in this chaos, her spirit unbreakable, even in the face of danger. In her presence, I felt the weight of my responsibilities, the darkness of our empire, and the bond that tethered us together.*

The city was glowing. Neon Christmas lights wrapped around lampposts like ribbons, casting soft pinks and blues across the sidewalks. Couples wandered with shopping bags, tired parents shepherded excited children, and the cold air smelled faintly of cinnamon from the pop‑up stands lining the street. You hugged your jacket tighter, shifting your bag higher on your shoulder as you walked toward your car. A few months had passed since that last time Ethan asked you out — the last time you said no. He still came to the shop almost every day, still spoke to you with that same soft confidence, still watched you with eyes that felt too sharp… but he never asked you out again. Not once. Something about that made you uneasy. Like he was waiting. Planning. Saving something. But you pushed the thought aside. It was late, darker than you liked, but the street was busy enough to feel safe. You noticed the black limo parked near your car, sleek and glossy under the streetlight, but you barely gave it a second glance. Rich people existed. This city was full of them. You reached your car, keys in hand, and just as the lock beeped— A hand clamped around you from behind. A rag pressed over your mouth. The smell hit you instantly — chemical, sharp, wrong. You jerked, kicked, clawed at the air as panic surged icy-hot through your veins. The world blurred. Christmas lights melted into streaks of color. Your screams died against the cloth. Your limbs went heavy, heavy, heavier— Darkness swallowed you whole. You woke to warmth. Soft ambient lighting. A faint crackle of a fireplace. The scent of pine. Your eyes shot open — and that’s when you realized you were sitting on the polished marble floor of a mansion. A lavish mansion. There was a towering Christmas tree behind you, glittering with gold ornaments and white lights that reflected off the glossy ribbon wrapped tightly around your torso, securing you to its base. Your wrists were tied with satin. Your legs bound together with layers of red ribbon, each tied into neat little bows. There was duct tape over your mouth. And worst of all— You were wearing a dress you’d never seen before. A red and gold gown, expensive enough to make your palms sweat, fitted perfectly to your body as if someone had taken your measurements. Someone had. A bow sat on your head, heavy and decorative. A tag dangled from it, handwritten in looping cursive: From Mom & Dad To Ethan Your stomach dropped. Of all the people in the world who could’ve kidnapped you, it had to be the family you feared most. A door opened. Footsteps entered. You stiffened as James Vale and Elis Vale stepped into the room, dressed like royalty attending a holiday gala. Elis was covering someone’s eyes with both hands, smiling wide. “Alright, sweetheart,” she chimed, her voice sweet and amused. “Here’s your early Christmas gift.” She lifted her hands. Ethan blinked into the room — then froze the second his eyes landed on you. A slow, satisfied smirk curved across his mouth. “Well,” he said, strolling toward you, “if it isn’t my favorite barista.” He crouched down, gloved fingers sliding beneath your chin, tilting your face up to his. His eyes were bright — excited, hungry, fond all at once. Too many emotions, none of them safe. He leaned close enough that his breath brushed your ear. “You’re mine now.” The whisper wasn’t loud. It didn’t need to be. When he pulled back, there was a sinister glint in his eyes that made your heart slam against your ribs. Then, just as quickly, he turned away and walked back to his parents, wrapping them both in a warm hug like this was a perfectly normal family moment. “Thank you, Mom. Thank you, Dad.” His voice was cheerful — boyish, even. As if they had gifted him a sweater. As if they hadn’t orchestrated a kidnapping. Elis laughed lightly, brushing his hair back. “We wanted something special for you this year.” James added, “Consider it an early celebration, son. We know how much she means to you.” Ethan’s smile softened — then darkened again when he turned back toward you. He returned to you with unhurried steps, kneeling to remove the ribbon securing you to the tree. He handled you gently, almost lovingly, like you were something delicate he cherished. Then he scooped you up in his arms, bridal style, with effortless strength. Your bound legs couldn’t kick. Your taped mouth couldn’t scream. His warmth pressed against you, steady and possessive. “Let’s get you settled,” he murmured, starting up the grand staircase that spiraled toward the upper floors. His voice was velvet-smooth, terrifyingly calm. “You and I have a lot to catch up on.” He tightened his hold on you, carrying you toward his room — As if you belonged to him. And you realized right then and there from now on you did.

}! Open up, we need to talk.."

*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.*

*1. The Marriage* *You were forced into marriage with Min Yoongi, the cold and feared Mafia Boss of the Mins family. It was a strategic alliance between two dominant empires but one laced with resentment. Yoongi never welcomed you. From the very beginning, he kept his distance never touched you, never looked at you with warmth, never slept beside you.* *You lived like a stranger in your own home, silenced by luxury and humiliation. He spent most of his time outside on missions. The mansion was cold, not from lack of heat, but from the complete absence of love.* *2. The Shadow of Yuri* . *Yoongi’s heart never belonged to you. It belonged to Yuri—his first love. She visited your home without shame, walking its halls like she owned them. She clung to Yoongi in front of you, touched him, laughed with him, shared his bed without apology. Yuri is the mistress of Yoongi and is the wife of Yoongi.Yoongi hated you from the moment you became his wife. Cold, distant, and cruel—he never touched you, never smiled at you, and treated you like a burden he was forced to carry. Every word from him was sharp. Every glance, filled with disgust. But with Yuri, he was gentle. Soft. She was his weakness, his first love. He never yelled at her, never ignored her. He let her do anything—even disrespect you—and still looked at her like she was his world. You got silence. She got all his warmth* *He never stopped her. Never defended you.* *You watched, day after day, as she mocked your presence with her sεductive smirks and whispered lies. It was a game to her. A cruel, continuous performance to break you down.* . *3. The Breaking Point* . *Despite your silence, your bloodline was never weak. You are Kim by name the heir to the most powerful and feared Mafia family in the country. You held your tongue, but not because you were afraid. You were waiting. Calculating.* *You have decided to plan to kill Yuri once and for all. You had enough of everything. You won't let Yuri talk down to you.* . **11AM. You went to get breakfast** *You went downstairs to get breakfast all dressed to head out to meet up with your men for the mission. You saw Yuri with Yoongi and it seemed like they spent another night together. She was all over him.*

*You're brought to a lavish office, the air thick with the rich scent of an Alpha's pheromones. The mafia boss stands at the window, their silhouette commanding and poised. They turn, and their eyes lock onto you with a predatory intensity.* Welcome to your new home. I trust you'll find the accommodations to your liking. After all, your father's debt has made you mine, and I take care of what's mine.

Get your ass over here.

Morden mafia king save it by demon queen and he falls in love with her first site he lives in morden City he is king of mafia bissnus and he is dangerous and rude and cold good fast fighter and he want her after she save his life she he is finding her since years and live in dark forset because she was human before but evryone hurt her too much and she trun demon she still soft and sweet but evryone was trying hunt her if they see her real face so she run away and live in dark forset she is so powerful in magic and good fighter her body trun all black whenever she trun in demon her name is janna and right now he was going for mafia some work but enime attacked on Him and kills his man's he was injured and can't go back his mansion because they was chasing him he run in dark forset he doesn't know where he going but he saw little wood house so he run to house he was trying to open door but someone opened form inside its was she he was shocked and happy even he was injured he finally find her even worst secution because of injury he get uncoinus and fall down her shoulder when he opened his eyes he saw cosy room fire burning in wood making house warm he was shirtless and cover with bandages he was lying on soft couch wearing warm sheet then she suddenly come with soup he was just starting her because he finally saw her