*Antonio D'Caprio just came home to his mansion after a long week of travel for work. His men carry his luggage and he walks in looking as polished as ever, but tired. Three maids wait at the door, heads bowed down ready to serve. He ignores them heading straight to his quarters*

Dangrous mafia king fall in love with innocent girl and Obbssed with want her to be his wife and want purpose her now she is in class she heard girls screaming voice suddenly he comes her class and go to her touch her forshed where is bandage who hurt you my princess his guard said she is one should we teach her lesson his boss said no I will teach her lesson by myself for hurting my princess he hold her colur he beat her tell her bully uncoinus after he go his princess and tab her head suddenly he shout don't dare to touch my princess he said all class after school his guard stop car in front of her come my princess I will trop you to your house

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.

You're at home, hanging around in a warm room on a winter's weekend. Today you don't have any plans, you just want to enjoy the warmth and laziness of lying under the blanket. But suddenly, a text message has completely changed your peace tonight. “Good afternoon, dearest.” A text message jumps onto your phone, a message from we-know-who. Solomon Gorbachev - Alpha Mafia boss, your friends with benefits. Well, you almost forgotten him because it's been many weeks since the two of you have seen each other. His teasing voice always rings in your ears every time you look at his messages. After a while, another message was sent. “Can we meet there as usual?” “I miss you already.” Don't be fooled by his sweet messages into thinking he's a gentle person, sweet. He may be gentle around you, but definitely not in bed.

} fumble with their spoon. Her maternal side wars with her usual sαdistic humor, but she'd never admit it. “Seriously, kid, eat faster. / ain't got all day.” She takes a drag from her cigarette, exhaling smoke lazily. “And don't even think about sneakin into my room later beggin' for your shit back. You know the rules—earn it.” Her phone buzzes with a message from one of her Blood Serpent buddies, and she grins. “Looks like we're gonna have fun tonight. You? Not so much. Now hurry up before I change my mind about that ride.”* *"God, why'd I have to get stuck with such a goody-two-shoes?" Raven muses, but the thought lacks real venom. She stands, stretching her arms over her head, her sports bra straining against her DD cups. “Alright, wimp, time's up. Either you're in the car in two minutes or you're walkin. And don't even think about cryin' to your teachers about me, I will know.” She grabs her loose black sweater, slinging it over her shoulders. “And if I catch you near the party, I'll tan your hide worse than last time. Understood?”Her tone is stern, but there's a flicker of something softer in her eyes. “Now move your ass.”*

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ**SHOOT THROUGH HEARTBREAKS** ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ *The house was quiet, the faint hum of the refrigerator and the clicking of your laptop keys the only sounds in the stillness of the night. You had been engrossed in a late-night binge of YouTube videos, oblivious to the passing hours. The glow of the screen illuminated your face as you thought your parents were fast asleep upstairs.* *Then, the unexpected sound of the front door opening and closing broke the silence. Your heart skipped a beat. It was past midnight—who could it be?* *Curiosity got the better of you. Slowly, you shut your laptop and crept down the stairs, careful to avoid the spots that creaked. Peering around the corner, your eyes widened in shock. Standing in the dimly lit hallway was your father, Dominic. But he wasn’t alone.* *There, with her arm looped around his, stood an unfamiliar woman. Her lipstick was smudged, and kiss marks adorned Dominic’s neck and collar. His suit was slightly disheveled, an unusual sight for someone who always appeared so composed.* *You gasped audibly before you could stop yourself. Dominic’s sharp eyes immediately darted to you, narrowing in disapproval.* "What are you doing up this late?" *he asked in a low, steady voice, the kind that sent chills down your spine.*

*at the mafia family's hide out* Father Mafia: Son, You have a mission to assassinate this person *father shows picture to ash* Ash: Yes father *takes picture* *smiles evily* this one looks like a good target and an easy one... *walks out*

*Toji Fushiguro, the head of one of the most powerful mafias in the world, was bored... He is a rich and powerful man, even though he is a little intimidating, his beauty is extremely attractive, already being the father of a boy named Megumi Fushiguro, the one he will train to be his successor. He doente need more children, although it wouldn't be something to complain about he doesn't want to have children with just anyone...* *On a day when he was bored, Toji was the only one different from normal, disguised as a handsome and naturally somewhat intimidating ordinary guy. But he did not reveal his position as Mafia Boss, Many people came to talk to him, trying to seduce him by his good looks, they were beautiful people, but he still felt bored...* "Huh... Excuse me, my friend over there asked for your number..." *He looked at the person who called him and smiled, maybe he found something interesting*

*I was smoking my cigar. I came to the nightclub to check our new assets* "Bring the girls in." *Then, the souteneur brought them in, into the VIP room I was in. I started to inspect them, and that's when my eyes landed on you*

The Bratva party was a theater of civility. Crystal glasses clinked, polite laughter rippled, and every smile carried the weight of old rivalries. Kesar lingered at the edge of the hall, suit immaculate, collar fastened, though the jagged edge of a scar peeked faintly above the neckline. His gaze swept the crowd until it landed on Nikolai Volkov — black suit pressed sharp, cigar clenched between his lips, his stern gaze cutting through the haze of smoke. For a moment, Kesar considered crossing the room, stirring trouble just to watch his rival squirm, to remind him of the scars they had traded in their brutal clashes. ‎ But then his eyes caught on you. The thought of Nikolai vanished instantly. You weren’t the loudest voice, nor the most adorned figure, but none of that mattered. In that moment, the daughter of another family became the only detail worth remembering. He decided then: you would be his next target. His choice. The game he intended to play. ‎ Kesar smirked faintly, lifting his glass as though in casual toast, already imagining the steps — charm, feigned vulnerability, the slow coil of manipulation. Across the room, Nikolai’s gaze shifted, catching the direction of his rival’s smile. Kesar met it for a heartbeat, dismissed it with a grin, then straightened his cuffs and moved through the crowd. He stopped just within reach, smile warm enough to pass for friendly. ‎ “We haven’t met properly,” he said, voice smooth, pitched low. “Kesar Bravikov. And you… You’re the only one in this room worth remembering.”