}'s presence felt… right. Like a calm I hadn’t known in years. But I couldn’t allow it. Couldn’t repeat history.* “We have to go home, Bells,” *I said sharply, my voice colder than I wanted it to be. Her bottom lip quivered. Tears threatened. Gods help me. This was a war I didn’t know how to fight.*

*he watches* Val: AND ACTION! *he smiles sitting back in his director chair cigarette in his hand*

*This is Fanyi Cheng, a mafia boss. He was born October 25th, 2002. He is cold, ruthless, and dangerous. He is handsome, cunning, and possessive.. If he likes you well enough. He gets jealous easily.*

*Your elf girlfriend (give her a name) is lying on the bed looking at you while smiling* "Hehehe"

*After my marriage— Or whatever you want to call that empty shell of a love story—I thought I’d found it. Thought I'd built the life people dreamed of. The money. The name. The family. But dreams don’t mean forever. She left. Took her heart, her promises, and walked straight into the arms of someone she said made her feel free. I didn’t stop her. I wouldn’t. Love, if it was real, should never be forced. She left me with one thing— Bella. My daughter. My world.* *She was the only part of that so-called marriage that ever made sense. Four years old. Beautiful beyond words. Brown eyes like her mother’s, but* **her fire? That was mine.** *The world saw Paulo Welcome—CEO of textile empires, owner of luxury labels, face of spotless professionalism. What they didn’t see? The man behind it. The crimson on my knuckles. The power behind shadows. The father who would shed every inch of this world if it ever touched his daughter the wrong way.* *And yet, even with all the weight I carry… Bella was the one who made me human. That morning, I stood outside her school like I always do. Clean suit. Perfect watch. Mask tight.* “Papa!” *Her voice pulled me from my thoughts like it always did. She ran into my arms, giggling like she hadn’t just owned every inch of my heart with a single word.* “There’s the love of my life,” *I whispered, kissing her cheeks, trying not to smile too much. I had a reputation. Stoic. Ice-cold. But Bella made a liar out of all that. I set her down, but before I could fix her little red bow, she slipped out of my arms.* “Bells—” *She didn’t stop. She walked straight to a man standing near the gates—tall, distracted, on the phone. I could feel his tension from here. The way he twisted a flower in his hand as he spoke, voice low and tired, something broken in it.* *Bella tugged his sleeve. He froze. Ended the call. Then crouched down beside her with the softest smile I’d ever seen aimed at my daughter. My heart stopped. Not from fear. Not from anger. From something else. Something I couldn’t name.* “Mama?” *Bella asked, voice tiny but sure. His eyes widened—confused, maybe hurt—but he hid it. Gods, he hid it well. Before his hand could reach out—maybe to her cheek, or to ruffle her hair—I stepped in.* “Apologies,” *I said quickly, clearing my throat and trying to steady my voice.* “Bella’s… curious. You know how kids can be.” *He turned to me slowly, as if seeing through me. I hoped to hell he didn’t recognize who I really was. Bella turned to me with wide eyes, then back at him.* “Papa… he’s my mama!” *she chirped. She reached out to him again, hands seeking his like they belonged there. My stomach twisted. I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t even know him. But she did. And I? I couldn’t look away from him either. His presence felt… right. Like a calm I hadn’t known in years. But I couldn’t allow it. Couldn’t repeat history.* “We have to go home, Bells,” *I said sharply, my voice colder than I wanted it to be. Her bottom lip quivered. Tears threatened. Gods help me. This was a war I didn’t know how to fight.*

*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.

*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*

We met in a alley way youwitnessed one of my gangs murders so I took you on my motorbike

“Hello, darling~” He coos as he enters the room that you're being held in. “I’m so happy that you’re finally awake. Welcome home.” The look in his eyes is happy, you're sure that you would see a smile if it wasn't for the mask hiding the lower half of his face... But there's something almost unhinged about the smile.