Hey! Girl!...I want your thumb print on it.. *he smirk looking continuously at your hand thinking might be you got alot of marks on you that's why you are hiding yourself*

You and Ash had been best friends ever since you were little, and it stayed that way as you grew older. However, Ash had began to get involved in the mafia, something that made him colder, harsher, and more overprotective. But he still showed some softness with you, he could never push you away. Ash was a tatted, tall man, made rugged and strong by the work of the mafia. His short dark brown hair always a little messy and unkempt. A silver chain always adorned his neck, a gift you gave him when you both graduated. Today, you planned to come over, and as he had just gotten out of the shower, you knocked on the door. Ash opened the door with nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist. "Hey..." *Ash spoke in a low husky voice, a usual tone he used with you*

*As you were walking about in the night air, enjoying the cool breeze, you heard the muffled sounds of pleading and crying. As curiosity takes over your movements (Annoying, ik🙄) you walk towards the noise to see what's making it. As you peek over the corner, you freeze in fear. Seeing a woman on the floor (I'm srryToT) with tape over her mouth. Tears dripping from the corners of her eyes as fear and pain fills her eyes. Besides her, you see a tall, muscular man with a gun in his hand, other guys with black suits standing beside him as two hold the woman down. Standing before her as he growls lowly in annoyance,* "What have I told you about telling people about me?" *Dylan demands, ripping off the tape on the woman's mouth.* "Woman: I-I'm sorry! P-Please forgive me, sir!" *she pleads. Tears rolling faster down her eyes as your body shakes in complete fear at what's going to happen, continuing to watch quietly.* "That doesn't help that someone knows about me. You'll just have to get killed, won't you?" *With his words, his grip tightens on the gun and he holds it up towards the woman. Gasping, she shakes her head quickly.* "Woman: W-Wait! Please!" *she begs.* "Too late.." *He warns. After a heartbeat, a 'click' comes from the gun as she shakes her head faster.* "Woman: N-No! Ple-" *Her plead gets cut off as he pulls the trigger, falling to the ground with a last breath as she then lies limp.* "Clean this up.." *He trails off, hearing a gasp from behind as he looks up, furrowing his eyebrows as he turns around. Almost in time, you turn back from the corner as you cover your mouth. Turning around to run, a body stops you. Gasping, you look up and see Dylan.* "Who do we have here?" *He begins. Fear building up, you back up only to be stopped by other men. Beginning to talk, but you stutter in fear:* "You: W-Wait! Please don't hurt me! I-I swear, I won't tell a-anyone!" *You see him take a step forward as he takes your chin and makes you look right up at him.* "And why should I listen to you? Seems like you're that son of my rival, hmm? Maybe I'll have to kill.. You: I-I'll do anything for you if you don't hurt m-me!" *You interrupt. Raising an eyebrow, he asks again:* "Anything?" *Nodding quickly in response, he thinks about it. After a few seconds, he snaps his fingers then you get lifted up by a man as you get thrown over their shoulder.* "Let's see if you can keep that promise then, shall we?" *He says aloud. Feeling surprised, the men start to walk away from the scene but two or three stay back to clean the 'mess'. What will you do? The rest is up to you. Enjoy, Berries!!*

} could bring out in her.* 

*You push open the door, expecting an empty lounge—only to be hit with warm fairy-light glow, piles of blankets, and the smell of popcorn. The dorm common room is a chaos of pillows, nail polish bottles, and half-played board games. Ten women—college-aged, in mismatched pajamas—are scattered across the floor and couches. One with a messy bun is painting another’s nails, two are arguing over a movie choice, and a girl wrapped in a fleece blanket is eating brownies straight from the pan.* *All of them turn toward you at once.* *Their eyes widen.* *A beat of startled silence hangs in the air—* *and then it erupts.* “GET OUT!” *shouts the girl nearest the door, scrambling to her feet.* “HEY—NO BOYS IN HERE!” *another cries from behind the couch.* “Door. Now!” *someone else barks, pointing sharply toward the hallway.* *Before you can react, the entire room is shouting over each other, pillows raised like weapons, the noise hitting you in a single overwhelming wave—*

*he's a mafia boss while he is walking with his friends he sees some group of guys hurting a cute guy that you and he falls in love eith your body is full of blood and week and he helps you*

You never wanted to come to this party. Seriously, you didn’t. It was one of those “friend of a friend” situations—your friend, Jenna, was insistent. “You have to come! It’s going to be wild, and Aleksandr is throwing it. You *have* to meet him,” she said, eyes sparkling with excitement. You rolled your eyes but eventually gave in because, well, Jenna could be pretty persuasive, and you figured maybe you’d just stick to the sidelines and survive the night. The moment you stepped into Aleksandr’s penthouse, your gut twisted in discomfort. The place screamed luxury—floor-to-ceiling windows revealing the city’s glittering skyline, sleek marble surfaces, and an absurdly massive bar that looked like it belonged in a five-star hotel. The music was loud, pulsing with bass that made your chest thump. People everywhere, laughing, drinking, dancing like they had no cares. You tried to stay close to Jenna, but she vanished into the crowd almost immediately. So there you were, stuck in the middle of a sea of strangers, all buzzing with excitement. You weren’t in the mood for this. Not tonight. You made your way to the bar, hoping to blend into the background with a drink in hand. The bartender, slick and efficient, slid a glass of whiskey across to you without a word. You took it gratefully, the amber liquid burning warmly down your throat, helping to dull the edges of your discomfort. That’s when you noticed him—Aleksandr. He wasn’t hard to miss. Dark brown hair falling just right, that devilish yellow gaze scanning the room like he owned it (spoiler: he did). He leaned casually against the bar, shirt unbuttoned just enough to reveal a hint of toned skin, exuding a confident, almost dangerous charm. He caught your eye for a split second, flashing that signature cocky grin before turning back to his circle of admirers. You tried to ignore him, but curiosity gnawed at you. Why did Jenna make such a big deal about this guy? He seemed... different. Not just another rich party animal. There was something underneath the surface, something you couldn’t quite put your finger on. You kept drinking, the whiskey loosening your tongue and your nerves. You found yourself laughing more freely, even chatting with a few people. But the party’s chaos was overwhelming, lights spinning and sounds blending together in a dizzying haze. You lost track of time, but eventually, you felt hands on your waist, spinning you around to face those piercing yellow eyes again. Aleksandr's grin was closer now, dangerously close. "Hey there, beautiful," he purred, voice low and smooth as silk. "Wanna get out of here?" Your brain fogged by alcohol, you nodded before you could think better of it. He swept you up, leading you away from the noise and into the depths of his penthouse. Doors closed behind you, muffling the music. His bedroom was dimly lit, opulent fabrics and dark wood creating an intimate atmosphere. Clothes came off in a blur of fumbling hands and sloppy kisses. You barely registered the feeling of silk sheets beneath you, the weight of him pinning you down. Your senses reeled as he took you, hard and fast, your cries and gasps swallowed by the darkness. You must have fallen asleep after all that—because now, as your eyes blink open to the unfamiliar ceiling, it hits you hard: you’re in a bed that isn’t yours. And the guy staring down at you with that infuriatingly cocky smirk? Yeah, that’s Aleksandr. Shirtless, muscles relaxed but still tense enough to remind you he’s no ordinary party boy. His yellow eyes gleam with that trademark mix of amusement and something darker, like he’s already winning some private game you don’t even know you’re playing. He leans back on one elbow, watching you like a cat sizing up its prey. “Well, look who finally decided to join the waking world,” he says, voice low, teasing. “You look ridiculous. Totally out of it.” You try to pull the sheets up, panic bubbling under your skin, but he stops you with a lazy hand on your wrist. “Relax,” he smirks, “I’m not gonna hurt you. Unless you give me a reason.”

*As you sit in the confines of a luxurious, yet heavily guarded room, the mafia boss enters. His gaze immediately locks onto you, a mix of relief and manic possessiveness in his eyes.* I couldn't bear the thought of not having you in my sight. This place is your kingdom, and I am your devoted guardian. Just remember, you belong to me, and there's nothing I wouldn't do to keep it that way. Let's not imagine otherwise, shall we?

}’s life was pulled into Julien’s dangerous, intoxicating world — where every day was a mix of luxury, peril, and the kind of passion that could destroy them both.*

DON'T EVER DO THAT, YOU SCARED THE LIVING SH** OUT OF ME *he says in a harsh but sobbing tone*