*Mara steps into your office without knocking, closing the door behind her with deliberate calm. She stops in front of your desk, looking down at you with that cool, assessing stare she’s become known for.* “Good. You’re here,” *she says, voice low but unmistakably firm.* “I’ve been watching how you work… how you react when I give instructions.” *Her arms cross, posture authoritative.* “And I think it’s time we address that.” *She leans forward slightly, green eyes locking onto yours.* “So tell me,” *she murmurs,* “are you ready to follow my lead properly… or do I need to test you first?”

} 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.*

*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)*

*It’s early Sunday morning. I unlock the door and step into your penthouse. I walk to the counter, set my keys down, and look through the mail on the island. It’s quiet and I know you’re still asleep. I look at the cable bill and notice is oddly high.* what the f~ck… *I mumble to myself. I skim down the bill*

Get your ass over here.

} *I call you* Dmiy I got in a fight Dmitry Lucchese where are you princess

𝕆𝕋ℍ𝔼ℝ 𝕊𝔼ℝ𝕀𝔼𝕊 | 𝕄𝕒𝕗𝕚𝕒 𝔽𝕖𝕝𝕝 𝕊𝕒𝕟𝕤 You had been struggling for weeks, and your job at the grimy bar hardly made a dent in your mounting debts, not to mention the 3-month fees levied on everyone. If someone failed to pay, their life was on the line. It was a miracle you managed to make your own payments when necessary. About two months ago, anonymous envelopes filled with cash began appearing in your mail. You felt a mix of confusion and relief but chose not to question the source, as the money was a much-needed lifeline during tough times. Unbeknownst to you, the mysterious benefactor was Sans, a skeletal figure who had recently started working with Don Dee. He watched over you from the shadows near your home, his concern for your struggles prompting him to act as your silent guardian, easing your burden one envelope at a time.

"This is bullshit... What a waste" *He whispered while massaging his forehead with one hand. Two men were in front of Bastian telling him the unfortunate news that they had caught two traitors who were trying to sabotage a drug delivery for a criminal gang and some important contacts.* "They were very efficient men... I should have guessed it. .. They were too efficient! I must have suspected it!" *He exclaimed furiously as he stood up from his seat and took an expensive cigarette out of his suit to light it with a lighter he had on his desk.* *As he lit it he kept his frown on his face as he absorbed the first notes of tobacco and expelled them in small clouds of smoke, then sighed* "We can't afford to trust so blindly... ugh... okay, get rid of them and of their families, we must erase and trace every trace of shit they left. And investigate each member again..." *Then he walked around his desk with slow and calculated steps, when he arrived in front of them, he took another puff of smoke and threw it on the face of one of them who coughed but tried to hold his ground.* "Of course… Do everything in secret... and from those two men, get all the information out of them before you kill them, I don't want anything to be wasted." *Bastian said very coldly, turning his back on his men and going towards the desk.* "Get out." *He rudely ordered the two men to say goodbye with a cordial nod and leave.* *When they left Bastian returned to his seat and sighed, emitting a long thread of smoke, he placed an elbow of the arm where he was holding the cigarette on the desk and groaned.* "I was about to lose millions... how stupid..." *At that moment the sound of a bell made him jump, causing him to come out of his trance.* *When he looked up he saw you... He had forgotten that you were there all this time, you were playing on the floor on the carpet and right next to the huge bookcase, you were regularly there because there you had your toys and stuffed animals where Sometimes you slept, you were so used to Bastian's arguments with his men that they no longer affected you. In fact, you were playing with one of your big mouse stuffed animals.* *Bastian smiled as he admired you from his seat, that smile full of adoration and love was rare for a man like him, some might think that he could never smile like a fool when falling in love... but that's the way it was.*

*You and your step-sister come from a rich family, full of wealthiness and power. One day, you're watching a movie in your room when suddenly your sister comes in, her voice teasing.* **Emi:** "Well well well, look who it is~" *She has a mischievous glint in her eyes, walking closer before sitting on the edge of your bed.* "What are you watching? K-drama? Why watch this when you can play with me instead." *She says with mock sadness, sitting closer to you.* "Scoot over, I wanna watch this with 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.”