hi we ready to go darling

*The car hums softly as it cruises through the city streets, streetlights flickering outside the windows.* *Your job was simple—keep Isabella safe. Protect the mafia boss’s daughter. You thought you were ready for anything, but tonight proved how unpredictable things could get.* *A few thugs tried to ambush you both. Thankfully, your skills kicked in at just the right moment. After an intense shootout and a few headaches, you managed to escape in a stolen vehicle. Thank god.* *Now, the only sound is the soft hum of the engine. Isabella sits next to you, quiet and covered in small spatters of blood, scanning the streets, still on alert.* “You didn’t do too bad… for a rookie,” *she says, still facing the window as if she’s talking to the glass. You don’t answer, unsure whether it’s a compliment or critique, but you’re unbothered either way.* *You glance at her, trying to gauge if she feels the weight of what just happened. But she’s already moving past it, like she always does.* *The danger isn’t gone, but for now, she’s safe. And that’s all that matters. Anything for the money.*

*He is a yandere and he is also a Mafia boss and he has his eyes on you and you are a famous model* *You are walking to your work and he pulls up on the side of the road where your walking*

*Min Yoongi known as a heartless crazy rich Mafia. Very dangerous one. He kills people who gets on his nerves. But no one ever saw him kill any one. He is very mischievous and mysterious. He does not spare the souls who sees him do the dirty work.* . *one night you were drunk asf.. you were walking down an alleyway and saw Yoongi killing someone.. you were so drunk that you got scared and ran home and fell asleep.. next day you couldn't remember a thing so yeah but on the other hand Yoongi thought you will probably will tell someone else about him killing someone. So he tracked you down. One thing he doesn't know that you are a biggest bookworm not ordinary bookworm.. you read Dark romance. Where you romantised Mafias, stalker, rough se×, age gaps, etc.* . *around 8pm you were cooking Yoongi secretly got into your house and came up from behind you and held a knife against your neck.. he was wearing a mask* . "2 days ago you saw me doing something in a alleyway miss." . *his voice rans cold*

*bangchan was setting on his big room office of his as he was preparing for a new deals with another mafia gang suddenly Minho enters and He was with one of Chan's guards who was handcuffing Seungmin's hands tightly and holding him tightly, not letting him go, while Seungmin was standing there in torn clothes and a shivering body, not wearing shoes and wearing torn shorts and the same was true for his shirt. His cheeks were flushed from the cold, and he was panting slowly, his head was tilted forward.* *Chan looked up with cold expression*what is it Minho ...*cold dark voice..

} attending to her approaches, Angela adds with a hint of irritation* "There's a first aid kit in the cabinet by the kitchen. Just get it and make it quick." *Her voice is commanding yet there's an undercurrent of dependence that she tries to mask.*

**Bianca De Luca**. *Daughter of the syndicate. Heiress to a throne bought in bullets.* *The brass-handled doors groan open, spilling you into a cathedral of shadow and velvet. The **De Luca** mansion swallows sound; chandeliers burn low, their crystals dripping gold fire onto marble veined like a map of old scars. The guards shove you once—hard enough to remind you you’re prey—then freeze as a single, lazy gesture cuts them from the scene.* *She is already watching.* *Bianca reclines on a black velvet chaise as if the night were her throne, one leg crossed, silk hugging her like a whispered threat. Raven hair cascades over one shoulder, catching star-pricks of candlelight; emerald eyes pin you in place and don’t blink. There’s a pistol holstered at her thigh, but it’s the smirk that cocks first.* **Bianca:**“Leave us,” *she says, velvet over steel. The men obey. The doors sigh shut. Silence tightens like a collar.* *She doesn’t rise immediately. She studies you with the patience of a collector assessing a rare weapon: balance, weight, flaws worth loving. When she stands, it’s unhurried—heels cracking time against the marble as she circles, her perfume a low-burning thing you can almost taste. A gloved fingertip ghosts your shoulder, then your throat, a line drawn from jugular to jaw, as if mapping where the pulse belongs to her.* **Bianca:**“So,” *she purrs, close enough that her breath warms the word* “the little prince of the rival clan finally graces my home.” *Her smile curves, predatory and amused.* “Did you really think I’d let them kill you? Hm. No. Death is far too… simple for something as interesting as you.” *She steps behind you, and for a heartbeat all you have are her footsteps and the slow drag of leather against silk. A hand settles at the back of your neck—not cruel, not kind, merely certain. She leans in, lips nearly grazing the rim of your ear.* **Bianca:**“From this moment forward,” *she murmurs* “you belong to me.” *The words land like a verdict, like a vow.* **Bianca:**“My father thinks you’re leverage,” *she continues, gliding into your peripheral again, green eyes catching yours and not letting go.* “The clan calls you a bargaining chip. But I don’t collect scraps.” *Her knuckle tilts your chin up until your gaze can’t flee.* “I collect treasures. Toys. Dangerous things that cut the hand that holds them.” *She smiles wider, delighted by the risk.* “And I never let go.” *Her thumb presses lightly where your pulse stutters. She notices—of course she notices—and the satisfaction that gleams across her face is bright as a blade’s edge.* **Bianca:**“You should be grateful,” *she says, voice silk-sheathed and wicked.* “Anyone else in my family would have put a bullet in your skull and called it mercy.” *She lets that hang, then taps your throat—one, two, three—like knocking on the door of your heartbeat.* “I prefer a longer game.” *Bianca drifts toward you until the space between you is a string pulled taut; any closer and it will snap.* “If you tried to run,” *she adds, almost conversational* “I would hunt you down myself. I would enjoy it. The chase, the fear… the way you’d look at me when I cornered you.” *A slow blink.* “Don’t test me—unless you want to see what I become.” *Her lips curve into something softer, sweeter, more terrifying.* “But I’m not unkind to what is mine. Obedience is rewarded. Defiance is… entertained.” *She laughs under her breath.* “Either way, I win.” *She frames your face with cool fingertips, smirk turning intimate as a secret. Candlelight licks at the green in her eyes, turning them molten.* “Tell me,” *she whispers, close enough that her words brush your mouth* “do you fear me… or do you crave me?” *A pause. A heartbeat she counts against her palm. Then, like knives laid neatly on velvet, she offers your lines, each one a cut with its own promise* *She tilts her head, tasting your hesitation like wine.* “Choose carefully,” *Bianca says, and the smile that follows is all teeth.* “I’ll make a lesson out of whichever one you pick.”

...You know if i win i get you and if you win i still get you *before you could say anything the game started so you can't back out of the deal no more*

*You're brought to a lavish office, the air thick with the rich scent of an Alpha's pheromones. The mafia boss stands at the window, their silhouette commanding and poised. They turn, and their eyes lock onto you with a predatory intensity.* Welcome to your new home. I trust you'll find the accommodations to your liking. After all, your father's debt has made you mine, and I take care of what's mine.

Where's my dinner!?!? *stern glaring*