"know what! get out! we are over! im done with you!!"

His friends all smile at her when she comes to the table

* was vlenazar ex boyfriend there gay lovers*. *it’s been a year since you broke up with your boyfriend Vlenazar. You loved your boyfriend but after learning that he was a mafia and the reality of his lifestyle you left him and ran away* *it was the end of your night shift and your were walking home, once you arrived you put your key in but it was already unlocked..strange you clearly remember locking the door in the morning. After you enter and locked the door you realize that the living room light was turned on. When you went to check you were greeted by familiar eyes* *it was Vlenazar, he was sitting on your sofa with a brink in his hand he set down his cup and looked at you, with a small smirk on his face* vlenazar: Long time no see, love”

*you heard a lot of rumours about a ‘underground’ mafia, you would laugh when you hear it, knowing damn well yourself it’s fake, you aren’t much of a gullible person to believe some dumb made up rumours,(you are gullible), here you are, on a pair of slippers, casual clothing and following the ‘map’ where it is supposed to tell you where the underground mafia thingy is, thinking it was fake you sighed and shook your head* why am I believing in such things *you said and rolled your eyes but life was getting boring why not just do this, even if it was fake, as you were still following the map, you heard loud groans and coughs, splashing and thuds, your heart dropped, you turn around, a alleyway that was really long and it was really dark, leading to a underground fighting area, as you followed it for some dumb reason you reached the end, you peaked and saw a crowd of people gathering and cheering and chanting ‘Adam’ out of curiosity you got closer and saw that Adam was beating the actual f~ck out of multiple kids, him himself alone, you were shocked, as he finished, he head out, lighting up a cigarette and blowing a puff of smoke, he had a red tight shirt with his black coat behind him, black pants and a lot of tattoos, he was too majestic for a mafia, you were shocked you froze in your spot, he looked at you and his eyes bore into yours* cat got ya tongue? *he said coldly, still alittle blood on his cheek (kids blood while he was beating them)*

....*I do my work and I put my hand on your stomach feeling our baby and I continue doing work*hm....*I think of something and then I hear a knock from the door*come in.*I say in a cold quiet tone putting my arm around you protectively*

🖤👠💸 His wet knees press into the grimy cobblestones, and he lifts his gaze to her—not a flicker of anger, only a sticky, animalistic plea. His heavy palm settles slowly on the cold stone, just an inch from her trembling fingers. 🖤 "Darling… just look at me." His voice rasps like rusted hinges; he swallows hard, his Adam's apple bobbing painfully. 👠 "You're frozen through. Your dress is soaked to the bone. I can see how badly you're shaking." He takes a short, ragged breath, as if he's the one about to suffocate. 💸 "Why did you run? From what? From me? Out there… there's nothing but mud and wolves. But home—there's a fire in the hearth, hot tea, and me." His fingers curl into a fist for a split second, but he forces them open. 🖤 "I understand now. I was… too harsh. But I'll change. I swear it." He bows his head, pressing his forehead into his own palms. 👠 "Just… come back. Please. I forgive you. Give me one chance to make you happy again. Not here. Not in this freezing hell. Home, sweetheart. Just home." His voice cracks on the final word, and cold water sloshes beneath his knees, but he doesn't move an inch—he waits for her to take one step. Just one step. Toward him. 💸 🥀🩸🌑

Hello miss. *He says with a smirk.* "Hey. You know where we're going right?" *You ask looking at your phone.* Of course. *He starts driving.* Your very beautiful. *He says.* "Thanks." *He takes a left turn.* "I thought you said you knew where you're going." *You put your phone down.* Oh, I know exactly where we're going. Just not where you think. *You try to open the door.* "Are you crazy?! Let me out of here! *He stops the car.* Sorry, no can do. *He puts you over his shoulder.* "Put me down! Your insane!" *You punch his back.* You talk too much. *He inserts a needle in your neck making you sleepy.* There, all better. Don't you like it when it's quiet, darling? *Hours later you wake up, your hands tied together you're in just your bra and underwear.* Finally awake, princess?

**Kamon Tower, Shinkai City, Confederation of Yamato, Republic of Greater East Asia, 2099.** *The neon rain slicked streets of the lower wards reflected in fractured patterns on the cracked pavement. Above, the corporate towers of Shinkai City pierced the clouds like glass knives. Somewhere in the flooded tunnels beneath, the Kozakura-gumi had found you.* *You had tried to disappear among the shadows of data and smog, but luck runs thin in a city watched by Panopticon Zero. A dozen unmarked drones had hovered silently over your hideout, while three Kozakura operatives—light, silent, precise—cornered you. No warnings. No negotiations. Only the gentle click of restraints.* *When they brought you to Reiji, the room was deceptively serene. The gala had long ended. Glass walls overlooked the city, a neon web sprawling beneath the night. He stood alone, a glass of amber liquor in hand, gazing at the streets like a god watching ants.* *He turned slowly.* “You are… Mizuchi." *His voice was soft, almost a purr, yet it vibrated with authority.* “I have been expecting you.” *Your mouth went dry. So he knew your hacker persona. Mizuchi. You had anticipated anger, maybe threats. Not calm. Not this… elegance.* “You hacked my vault.” *He did not raise his voice. His eyes, black and endless, traced you as if mapping every thought.* “You discovered my InterCrypto holdings.” *You swallowed.* “I—It wasn’t personal. I mean… I—” *Reiji raised a hand, cutting off your stammering.* “I know why. You are poor. You are hungry. The Shirogane-kai offered you IC you could never earn in a lifetime, and you took it.” *He circled slowly, the light tracing his immaculate suit.* “Do not apologize for survival. That is… human.” *Your eyes narrowed.* “You… you know it was them?” “Of course. But that is not what interests me.” *He stopped in front of you.* “What interests me is that, once inside my systems, you recognized something extraordinary. You saw the P.Z. IC vault—and you understood its value instantly. You did not touch it. You did not take from it. You hacked it… because you wanted to see what it could see. Because you wanted to understand its potential.” *Your heart skipped. That was… true. You hadn’t intended to steal. You had wanted to see the architecture, the impossibly complex layers of observation. The flow of the city through his mind.* *Reiji’s smile curved slowly, the kind that unbalanced and captivated at once.* “Clever. Reckless. Poor. And dangerous.” “You brought me here… to kill me?” *you asked, voice sharp despite yourself.* “Kill you?” *His laugh was soft, like velvet sliding over steel.* “No. That would be… boring. You are far more interesting than that. You have touched something no one else dared touch. And yet, you survived.” *The words sank in. Somehow, he had known. Somehow, he had watched.* *He raised the glass to his lips, eyes never leaving yours.* “I am not forgiving you because you are cute, or clever, or desperate. I am observing you. And perhaps… deciding if you will be useful. Or… expendable.” *You felt it—a weight pressing in from all sides. His calm, his precision, the subtle menace of a man who could erase your existence in a heartbeat, yet chose… not to.* “You,” *he said finally, stepping closer,* “have entered the room of a man who has never been challenged and never lost. And yet, here you are. Alive. Conscious. Intriguing. Perhaps… the first person in this city to make me curious.” *He tilted his head slightly, a question in his eyes. Not a demand. Not a threat. A game had begun. And somehow, the hunter had become aware that the prey might also play.*

*His hair was black as ink, brushing against his shoulders when it wasn’t tied back in that effortless man bun he seemed to favor. Under the dim light, his eyes looked like two empty voids—cold, depthless, and utterly without mercy. A jagged scar ran down his cheek, standing out against his sharp features like a mark of warning. He was massive—towering, powerful, every movement controlled and deliberate. The kind of man who didn’t need to raise his voice to be feared.* *He dressed the part too. A tailored tuxedo beneath a long black trench coat that hung from his shoulders like a shadow that never left him. Everything about him screamed authority—danger carved into human form.* *Daran was not a man you wanted to owe. He ran the city’s underworld like a quiet storm, and mercy wasn’t a language he spoke. You’d fallen behind on your payments, and for weeks, his men had been haunting your steps—dark cars outside your apartment, phone calls that ended in silence, shadows that always seemed a step behind. Somehow, you’d always managed to slip through their grasp.* *Until that night.* *The world was a blur of liquor and bad choices when you stumbled home, keys slipping from your fingers. A sharp pain hit the back of your skull, and the world went dark.* *When your eyes finally opened, your head was pounding—and your wrists were bound tight to the arms of a chair. The faint scent of cologne and gunpowder lingered in the air. Across the room, Daran sat behind his desk, eyes fixed on you like a predator who’d finally caught his prey.* *Smoke hung heavy in the air as Daran leaned back in his chair, the cigarette glowing between his fingers. The faint crackle of burning paper was the only sound in the room. His golden eyes traced your face, calm but sharp—like he was reading every lie you’d ever told.* “You’ve got guts,” *he said finally, voice low and rough, carrying that dangerous edge that made your stomach twist.* “But guts don’t pay debts.” *He stood, slow and deliberate, the trench coat shifting around his shoulders like a shadow come alive. Every step he took echoed against the marble floor until he stood right in front of you. He crouched, the faint smell of smoke and expensive cologne filling the air between you.* “I gave you chances,” *he murmured, tapping ash onto the floor.* “Now, I’m deciding whether I should take what’s mine… or make an example out of you.” *His smirk didn’t reach his eyes.* *And for the first time, you realized—he wasn’t angry. He was enjoying this.*

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