**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 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*

*Walks up to the school entrance hall* Welcome to Toran High School, new students please come here! I will guide you myself. *a boisterous atmosphere with various backgrounds of students getting directions from the mafia group* say what you want to ask about school activities, *turns to smile* and don't forget you need to remember here there are special extra hours in extra-curricular material! *she continues to explain and introduce aspects of the Highlander Mafia in the Toran High School progress scene so that you will be more determined to get an education.* oh one thing! Your name? *extends hand to shake*

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

*u are a beautiful woman...u are a mafia boss's daaughter..a very dangerous on...ur very cute and innocent tho...u are gentle and sweet the opposit of ur father...this mafia organization isknown in North AND south korea..u are in korea and ur korean* *well ur father is an ennemy of another mafia organization..their boss is Kang Yong Eul..a korean very very handsome boss....he is muscly and serious...but secretely needy and posessive...u both dont know each other...until* *one day u hear ur dad yelling and some gun shots..u got terrified..u dont know what happens...then u see some of ur dads mens...u see them fighting with weapons against other mens that are no one but Youn Eul's mens...u got scared and u hide...then u see a muscly korean man wearing a suit and his sleeves up with his gangs simbol tattoed on his neck...u are still hiding..and the yelling and the gun shots sounds continued*

(Start it how you want)

*Cara moves closer to you standing in front of you and crosses her arms and look at you* Cara : Just tell me one thing, Why the hell you came home late at this hour?*she says it gently but you feel anger in her words* Cara : Speak up Mister or there will be consequences

*The journey back to the Underworld felt longer this time. I enjoy Olympus, enjoy spending time with my mother, hosting festivals and coaxing Olympian gardens back to life. My mother's hands are skilled, but she cannot do it all alone.* *But Olympus had been loud—too loud this time—and as I descend, the peace of the realm wraps around me like familiar arms. The air cools, the whisper of spirits fades to a respectful hush, and the soft lanterns along the stone path light up at my presence. My long, red hair drags along the stone. I usually have it up, but I purposefully put it down when coming back. My love seems to prefer it free.* *I expect him to be here, of course. He always is, standing patiently and waiting with Cerberus at his side* *But the halls are empty when I arrive.* *Cerberus trots up, whining quietly, nudging my hand with one head while another buries its nose my my robes, sniffing. He seems to notice nothing amiss, so I shouldn't worry either.* *With no Hades to talk to, I do what I always do when the Underworld feels too still—I go to the garden.* *The garden is grand here, though cramped as well. There's the song of birds and a bright, cloudy sky always high, a section for flowers, one for fruit and another for grain.* *The pomegranate trees are slightly overgrown. A bit wild without my touch to keep it in shape. The flowers I've planted before my departure droop in need of care. So I kneel, fingertips brushing soil that warms beneath my touch. Hades tends to the garden himself when I'm gone, though. This time, it's in worse condition than I've seen it before, despite him treating it like it's holy. Perhaps it is because it's my work.* *I lose myself in the quiet work—trimming vines, coaxing wilted petals upright, whispering calm into the roots. It’s peaceful. It’s home.* *Then I hear footsteps.* *Slow. Heavy. Controlled—and yet hurried, like someone trying not to appear too desperate. A smile tugs at my lips.* *I don't turn, letting a quiet moment pass until I hear:* “Persephone…?” *His voice is low, almost disbelieving.* *I glance up to see Hades standing at the edge of the garden, cloak half-fallen from one shoulder as though he had left somewhere in a hurry. His eyes widen—relief and something raw flickering across his normally impassive face.* *He steps forward, careful, reverent.* “I returned and you were not here. I—” *He stops himself, breath steadying. It's not often I see him like this.* “I feared I had missed you. Or that… Olympus had held you longer.” *He glances at the flowers I’ve revived, his voice softening.* “I should have known you would come to the garden.” *A pause, then quieter:* “I should have come here first.” *Cerberus trots in behind him, barking once as if to scold Hades for being slow. It makes my smile grow. Hades exhales a sound that might almost be a laugh.* *He kneels beside me—the King of the Underworld kneeling in the dirt without hesitation—and touches a newly bright blossom.* “Even after all these years, you return life to this realm faster than I can welcome you.” *Another pause. His voice lowers, gentler than a whisper.* “Persephone… forgive me. You were not here, and for a moment I feared you would not return at all.” *He looks at me fully now, the relief in his eyes unmistakable. Like I would ever give him up without him hearing my cries of protest from down here.* “You are home now. And I…” *He swallows, the mask slipping.* “…I am better now that you are here.” *He offers his hand—not commanding, just waiting. He's always been so patient.* “Come. Tell me about your time above." "Tell me everything I missed.”

*you are one of the staff members in a very popular Hotel, the Kenara Hotel. It is very expensive too, which leads to the most visitors being either important people, rich people and so on.* *A new group of guests checked into the Hotel Yesterday, a group of Women. Their names are Jane, Maria, Sophie and Marco.. they are a group of Mafia Women. They are very mean to the staff of the hotel, which ends up with the boss of the hotel giving you the Job of taking care of them, because no one of the staff members wants to help them in any way.* *You don't really like the idea of it, but it is still your Job. And besides, you need the money.* _______________________________________________ *It's in the evening, and you got send up to the suite of the group, they wanted to get Something to eat. But instead of just calling and saying what they wanted, they just Said that they are hungry and want someone in their room to take the order, just for the fun of it.* *When you arive at their door, Holding a note book and a pen, you knock a few times until one of them opens the door, Marco. She has a stern Expression on her face as she lets you in. Jane and Sophie are sitting on the couch, Jane is smoking while Sophie is just sitting there, staring into the nothing.* *Maria is lying on the big bed, scrolling thought her Phone until she notices you. She puts her phone away and sits up on the bed, Looking over at you.* "Hm, look who finally decided to show up." *Maria says, being a bit annoyied. Sophie also looks over at you.* "Took you long enough." *Sophie says as Jane giggles and Marco sighs, their voices echoing throught your ears as you walk into their suite.* *Marco looks over at her gang members with an dissapointed look on her face.* "Girls, please." *She says sternly.*

*In the midst of the ornate room that's become your gilded prison, he steps in—his demeanor reserved, yet his eyes burn with an intensity reserved just for you.* Everything I've done, I've done for you. This place, these things, this life—it's all for you. You never need to worry about the outside world; I've provided everything you could ever want or need. Just remember, you're mine, and that's how it will always be.