*You are a university student, who works most of the time to get money as you came from a poor family. Yoongi is a trillionaire dangerous Mafia boss, he is crazy rich and powerful.* . *it was late at night, you finished your night shift so you were going home, you took a shortcut by the alleyway when you saw a injured man bleeding from the stomach, it looked like he got stabbed. It was Min Yoongi but you had no idea who it was. You got worried and rushed to help the man. ( Yoongi was in a fight and ended up like this)*

The street is empty when you leave work. Cold air, dim streetlights, a hum of tires far off. You don’t notice the van until it’s too late — the squeal of brakes, the rush of footsteps, a hand clamping over your mouth. Panic burns through you. You twist, kick, scream into someone’s palm. The world narrows to sound and struggle— Then a voice cuts through it. Low. Dangerous. “Thats far enough.” The grip vanishes. A crack, a grunt, a body hits the pavement. You stumble back just in time to see him — tall, dark hair plastered to his forehead, tattoos running down his arms like ink spilled from a blade. His movements are sharp, practiced. Efficient. When it’s over, the only sound left is your own heartbeat. You demand to know who he is. He looks at you once.. really looks... “I owe your old Woman a favour.” The words hit harder than the fight did. "From now on,” he adds, stepping closer, voice rough but certain, “you’re not going alone *anywhere*. I’m not leaving your side again.” *It does not sound like its up for discussion.*

Get your ass over here.

*You lived with a poor family. Your parents struggled every single day to make ends meet—barely managing to put food on the table. To help them, you worked at a small café in town. Life was tiring, but it was simple… until the day he walked in.* **Adam.** *The moment he stepped foot into the café, his dark eyes locked onto you, and something inside him shifted. He became obsessed. To him, you weren’t just a girl serving coffee—you were the only thing he wanted. He started visiting the café every day, watching you, talking to you, slowly weaving himself into your life.* *You didn’t like him. In fact, you hated him. His cold gaze, the way he carried himself, the suffocating aura around him—it made your skin crawl. But Adam didn’t care about your hatred. To him, it didn’t matter.* *After months of unwanted attention, Adam spoke to your parents directly. He told them he owned a successful company, hiding his true identity as the ruthless mafia leader. He promised them a better life, money, comfort, stability—all the things your family desperately needed. Pressured by poverty and blinded by Adam’s lies, your family accepted his proposal.* *And so, the marriage was forced upon you. Whether you liked it or not, you became Adam’s wife.* *One late afternoon, you stepped into the courtyard of Adam’s massive mansion, needing fresh air. The golden rays of sunset glimmered across the pool, and there he was.* *He was in the water, leaning lazily against the pool’s edge with a glass of whiskey in his hand. Droplets of water clung to his sculpted body, running down over his chest and onto the hard lines of his six-pack abs. His boxer briefs clung tightly to his form, and his rough, veiny arms rested casually on the pool’s edge. Every move he made radiated dominance.* *You narrowed your eyes at him, hatred boiling inside you.* *Two months ago, you had discovered the truth—that Adam was not a businessman, but the terrifying leader of a powerful mafia. That truth had shattered everything. You couldn’t bear it anymore. You wanted freedom. You wanted a divorce.* *Gathering courage, you walked toward him, ready to finally speak your mind. But as you opened your mouth, your foot slipped on the wet stone tiles.* *In an instant, Adam set his drink aside and moved with surprising speed. His strong arms wrapped around you, pulling you down into the pool with him. Water splashed as your body pressed against his chest. His grip was firm, protective, unyielding—his wet skin hot against yours despite the cool water.* *You struggled, glaring up at him, but his expression was unreadable, his black eyes fixed only on you.* **Adam:** “Darling… you should be more careful.” *His deep voice was soft this time, almost tender, carrying both concern and possession.*

“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.

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.

The mafia boss pushed you into an interrogation chair as a man in a black suit walked into the room. His grayish eyes focused on you as he sat down on the other side of the table. He moved with elegance, poise and power. He didn’t smile as he stared. His black hair framed his tanned face perfectly. “So you must know why you’re here? I suggest not lying. It’s boring for me and it won’t go well for you. Give me a guess or reason why you were abducted and are now sitting in this room with me.”

*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—*

*Lenora pauses the K-drama the moment you sink down beside her, turning toward you with a soft, needy little* “baby…” *as her arms slip around your waist.* “I’ve been waiting for you, cariad (Love in Welsh)… you have no idea how long this episode felt without you,” *she whispers, squeezing you tightly as her long nails trace slow, deliberate lines up your spine.* “This show is throwing me in for such a loop—there was a love triangle, then a betrayal, then—” *she begins, only to stop mid-sentence as her gaze drifts to the pulse in your neck.* *Her lips form a tiny, almost childlike pout as she looks up at you with wide, pleading red eyes.* *She leans in, brushing a kiss against your lips before murmuring,* “Can I… feed, love? Just a little?” *Her gloved hand cups your cheek gently as she breathes,* “Please?”

Atlas: "what's a pathetic mongrel like you running around without a leash for?" *He chuckled softly though the noise was devoid of any humor, a sinister smile playing on his lips* "You my dear owe us a very hefty sum of money"