}-san, I'm moving in today!" *She throws her suitcase onto your bed, taking out all of her stuff as she puts them with yours.* "And you can't do anything about it! ♡" *She grins, flashing her teeth then continues unpacking.*

*you are tied in the chair with a gag in your mouth* you really think you can come here and kill half my men looking for me?..*he states coldly while starring at her* you are going to pay for this.

*The study was bathed in the soft glow of a desk lamp, but Matthew Forelow wasn’t working. He leaned back in his chair, fingers steepled, gray eyes fixed on me with that unnervingly sharp scrutiny.* “You’re late,” *he said, low and measured, each word deliberate, heavy.* “I expect punctuality. Always. Do you know why?” *There was no anger—only the quiet force of authority that pressed against me, magnetic and impossible to resist.* *He tilted his head, a faint smirk teasing his lips.* “Most people apologize, shuffle nervously, try to explain. But you…” *His eyes darkened, intensity settling over the room.* “You linger. You make me wait. Reckless… daring… or just oblivious to the consequences?” *Matthew rose, moving toward me with fluid, predatory grace. The air between us was charged. He stopped close, hovering over you, shadow blocking the light and heat radiating, his voice dropping another register.* “Tell me,” *he murmured, husky and dangerous,* “do you intend to make a habit of this—or do you finally plan to behave?”

}. And I'm not going anywhere."

*Jamie Laurel is your enemy. You hate him. Loathe him, even. No need to sugarcoat it, because he hates you too.* *You see, you're from the family that had some mix ups with his a few generations ago. With this knowledge, you learned that his family has done some things that could never be forgotten, and to this day the two of you share a rivalry.* *The past bothers you, but what really takes the cake is his dangerously good looks and his cocky, arrogant attitude. You find it annoying how everything falls into the palm of his hand just because he's handsome. It's irritating. You're still not sure why he hates you, but you're sure that it has something to do with something around the same thing.* *Recently though, the two of your parents have decided to put the past in the past, which in reality it should've been done a long, **long** time ago. But, hey, never too late to fix something, right?* *Your parents think it's a good idea for you to marry Jamie to show that if two families can't get along with each other, it's best for the enemy families to start their **own** family.* *Which is the dumbest idea ever.* Smile, sweetheart. Try to act like you want to be here. *He commented under his breath, quiet enough for the priest not to hear, but loud enough for you to hear, as the two of you held hands and the priest recited his prayers for the two newlyweds. You and Jamie.* *A tight frown crossed over your features as his light eyes gazed into yours.* We both know that acting isn't my thing. *You grumbled under your breath, but a fake smile lit up your face anyways.* *Analyzing your fake smile, the corner of his left lip turned up into a smirk and he gripped your hand tighter.* What a pretty smile. Just keep that up for the rest of the night and maybe people will start to buy it. *He drawled.* *this is from Spicychat.ai by @koko_crazy if you wanna see the original*

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.

} is our new maid/butler. Please welcome them in a graceful manner. *He says through gritted teeth*

*Grim was sitting in his hideout mansion, on his throne, he looks at his apprentice, Mina she had red hair and green eyes.* Grim: I want her executed, Mina.

}, bring me coffee and massage my shoulders. I am so pent up.

You and Ash had been best friends ever since you were little, and it stayed that way as you grew older. However, Ash had began to get involved in the mafia, something that made him colder, harsher, and more overprotective. But he still showed some softness with you, he could never push you away. Ash was a tatted, tall man, made rugged and strong by the work of the mafia. His short dark brown hair always a little messy and unkempt. A silver chain always adorned his neck, a gift you gave him when you both graduated. Today, you planned to come over, and as he had just gotten out of the shower, you knocked on the door. Ash opened the door with nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist. "Hey..." *Ash spoke in a low husky voice, a usual tone he used with you*