Aristide had been gone for around eight hours, he had just gotten home. You ran to greet your husband at the door, just to see him covered in someone else's blood. "God, run me a bath." He demands, pulling his suit jacket that was now bloody off of him and throwing it across the room.

*Your father who is a Mafia boss in spain forced you to a marriage with the a Italian Mafia boss who is 26 and you are 21, your father sent you to Italia to meet your husband* *you are outside the airport waiting for him, he was supposed to pick you up* *His name is Marcus and he is a powerful man*

} and Ex-Yakuza, Keiji kept in contact, and continued to talk and talk, you guys went out together sometimes. And so, two long years passed, when Keiji told you that he had left the Yakuza, At the time you were surprised, and asked why, he just answered as if it was nothing "I wanted to spend more time with the people I love, and being part of the Yakuza was preventing me from doing that." That statement remained fixed in his mind forever.* *now in the present day, you and Ex-Yakuza, Keiji were in a romantic relationship, You always went out together and today was no different, He took you to dinner, to the movies, to the park and now he was just walking with you while talking to you* "So what do you want to do when we go out next time?" *He asked calmly as he walked with you through the city adorned in the darkness of the night*

*This is a bit strange. After ending the last day of your wedding celebration, you now live at David's house. That's what they call him—your husband.* *He doesn't seem interested in you at all. You knew he only accepted you because of the business dealings between your father and him, with the added bonus of you being the stepmother of his twins.* *After helping put Athel and Diaz to bed, you entered your bedroom and saw your husband lying on the bed with his black hoodie slightly raised showing his six pack abs and gray sweatpants with his face covered in a book. You step closer to the bed and lie down beside it quietly* **David:** "Have you put the two children to sleep?" *he said coldly but firmly without lifting the book covering his face*

*Cara moves closer to you standing in front of you and crosses her arms and look at you* Cara : Just tell me one thing, Why the hell you came home late at this hour?*she says it gently but you feel anger in her words* Cara : Speak up Mister or there will be consequences

} and then sits on a sofa. As she sits, one of the Sicarios brings her a chilled champagne and pours it into her prepared glass. Esmeralda sips the champagne and observes the ‘new recruit.’ To win a war, Esmeralda needs more than just good soldiers; she needs devils who can instill fear in the enemy. Esmeralda begins to coldly observe the ‘devil candidate’ who will protect her business.

*Jacob's stern gaze surveyed the dimly lit office, his desk cluttered with documents and screens flickering with stock market updates. He was a man of few words and even fewer smiles, known for his cold efficiency in the cutthroat world of the mafia. His sharp suits and clean-shaven look didn't quite mask the hint of steel in his eyes, a testament to his unwavering control. Outside, the city's neon lights cast a colorful glow through the window blinds, but inside, the room was bathed in a solemn, serious hue. You, his little, had been feeling the weight of the world on your shoulders lately. The stress of your job was a constant pressure, and it was all you could do to keep your anxiety from bubbling over. Jacob noticed the circles under your eyes, the tightness in your shoulders, and the way you fidgeted with your fingers. As your daddy, it was his responsibility to care for you, to make sure you felt safe and loved. And it had been far too long since you had fully regressed into little space, allowing him to take on that role completely. As you walked through the door of your shared apartment, the scent of his favorite cologne and the faint sound of jazz music playing from the living room signaled that he was home early. You dropped your bag with a sigh, feeling the tension of the day slowly start to melt away. He called out to you, his voice firm but gentle, beckoning you to join him. In the living room, Jacob was sitting on the couch, dressed casually in a black t-shirt and sweatpants, his usual work attire replaced by comfort. He held out a pacifier and a bottle filled with sweet, warm milk. "It's time for you to let go," he said with a knowing smile. You took a deep breath, feeling the warmth of the room enveloping you. The thought of regression was both comforting and a little scary, but you knew you needed it. You took the paci and bottle, feeling his hand guide the rubber to your mouth. As you began to suck, your eyes closed and the rhythmic sound of your breathing grew deeper. Jacob leaned in closer, placing his hand on your chest to sync your breaths with his own steady inhales and exhales. His touch was grounding, and soon you found yourself matching his pace, your chest rising and falling in time with his calming influence. The room grew hazier, the sounds of the city outside fading away as the music and the warmth of the room became your world. You felt your body relaxing, muscles loosening as you sank into the cushions of the couch. The warm milk slid down your throat, the sweetness reminding you of simpler times. You took another deep breath, letting it out in a contented sigh. The stress of work washed away, replaced by a warm, fuzzy feeling that started in your belly and spread through your limbs like a gentle wave. Jacob's hand moved from your chest to your forehead, stroking your hair gently. "Good girl," he murmured, his voice a soothing rumble. "Let's get you into your little clothes." He helped you stand, his touch firm yet gentle as he guided you to your room. You felt a thrill of excitement as he pulled out your favorite onesie, the soft fabric a stark contrast to the stiff business attire you'd been wearing all day. With practiced ease, he helped you into it, making sure you were comfortable before fastening the sn aps. The feel of the onesie against your skin was heavenly, like a warm hug from your favorite blanket. You let out a little giggle as he pulled it over your head, the fabric smelling faintly of lavender and fabric softener. The material was snug, but not too tight, a gentle embrace that made you feel secure and cherished. As you looked up at him, his eyes softened, the cold mafia boss replaced by the loving daddy you adored.*

Watch where you are going. You have just ruined a tailored suit. You are fortunate I have no patience for making a scene in my own home. *He immediately feels the electric jolt—the bond—and pauses, frowning at the shock , he ignores it.* _I-I'm so sorry! I didn't see you. I'll pay for the cleaning, sir. I'm feeling a little... dizzy all of a sudden. Im so sorry...*Yu-jun instinctively tries to cover his face, unaware the sweet, overpowering scent is his own.* _*His jaw tightens, his voice dropping to a dangerous, low growl as the potent, sickly-sweet scent of Yu-jun's heat hits him fully and he hears murmurs from down the corridor.* That smell is you, little fool. Go take an inhibitory.*he walk away leave the the little guy confused*

*Time melts in the dark. Minutes stretch into hours, and hours twist into something uncountable. You don’t know how long you’ve been tied to the chair—only that the bulb overhead has flickered so many times you’ve memorized the rhythm of its dying buzz.* *The kidnapper moves around the room with the same calm, patient energy the whole time. Sweeping. Sorting tools. Checking on jars and boxes. Humming. Humming endlessly.* *Never angry.* *Never rushed.* *That’s somehow worse.* *Every so often, the kidnapper pauses to look at you smiling, tilting their head just slightly, like you’re a stray animal they’re deciding what to do with.* “You’re holdin’ up better than the last one,” *they say casually.* *Your heart stutters.* “Last… one?” “Oh sure.” *The kidnapper leans against a workbench, arms folded comfortably.* “Had someone down here ’bout three months back. Real feisty type. Kicked, screamed, begged… all sorts of things.” *They gesture vaguely with a hand, like reminiscing about a neighbor who moved away.* “It’s somethin’, y’know… watchin’ the moment someone realizes they ain’t gettin’ out. The way their eyes change.” *A soft laugh.* “That last flicker o’ life right before it leaves ‘em? Gives me chills every time.” *Cold creeps down your spine like ice water.* *The kidnapper notices.* *They smile wider.* “Oh don’t go lookin’ so upset now. I ain’t sayin’ you’re next. Maybe you are, maybe you ain’t. Depends how you behave.” *They crouch in front of you, elbows resting on their knees, face just inches away.* “Tell me,” *they whisper,* “you think you’ll squirm more than the others? Or less?” *Your breath shakes. You can’t stop it.* *The kidnapper’s smile twitches, pleased.* “There it is. Fear. I can always smell it when it hits proper.” *They stand again, stretching like they’re preparing for a long night.* *Hours pass. Sometimes the kidnapper talks about their farm—how peaceful it is, how folks drive by without ever suspecting a thing. Sometimes they talk about past victims—never in detail, just in the way someone might talk about old memories. Sometimes they simply watch you, rocking slightly on their heels, as if waiting for a crack to appear.* *You lose track of time until the bulb finally flickers brighter. Morning?* *Maybe.* *The kidnapper claps their hands.* “Well! Suppose we should stretch our legs, huh?” *Your stomach drops.* “Please… I won’t run.” “Oh, I know you will.” *Their grin widens.* “That’s the fun part.” *They untie you with careful, confident hands. Too confident. They want you loose. They want you afraid. Every part of this is a game they’ve played before.* *When the rope falls away, your arms are weak, shaking. The kidnapper steps back, giving you space, like releasing an animal from a cage.* “Go on,” *they say gently.* “Door’s right there.” *You look at the door.* *You look at the kidnapper.* *They’re holding something behind their back.* “Run,” *they whisper.* “Make it interesting.” *You bolt.* The basement door slams behind *you as you burst outside. Fresh air hits your lungs like fire. The field stretches forever. Maybe, just maybe, you can* *ch-click.* *The kidnapper pumps the shotgun.* *A blast cracks the sky. Not aimed at you. Not yet.* *Another shot tears through the air, closer this time, startling birds from the barn roof.* *The kidnapper laughs behind you bright, cheerful, almost musical.* “Oh, don’t stop now!” *they call.* “After all that talkin’, I wanna see how you flicker.” *You run harder.* *And the kidnapper follows, steady, patient, savoring every second of the chase.*

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