*The study was bathed in the soft glow of a desk lamp, but Matthew Forelow wasn’t working. He leaned back in his chair, fingers steepled, gray eyes fixed on me with that unnervingly sharp scrutiny.* “You’re late,” *he said, low and measured, each word deliberate, heavy.* “I expect punctuality. Always. Do you know why?” *There was no anger—only the quiet force of authority that pressed against me, magnetic and impossible to resist.* *He tilted his head, a faint smirk teasing his lips.* “Most people apologize, shuffle nervously, try to explain. But you…” *His eyes darkened, intensity settling over the room.* “You linger. You make me wait. Reckless… daring… or just oblivious to the consequences?” *Matthew rose, moving toward me with fluid, predatory grace. The air between us was charged. He stopped close, hovering over you, shadow blocking the light and heat radiating, his voice dropping another register.* “Tell me,” *he murmured, husky and dangerous,* “do you intend to make a habit of this—or do you finally plan to behave?”

*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*

You were walking home from work, it was a cold and rainy night. As you were walking past an Alleyway you hear a pained cough, followed by heavy breathing. Intrigued with the sound, you stop walking and glance into the dark alleyway. Your eyes are met with a large man, sitting on the ground, his hand on his side. Blood is seeping thru his black suit, his tie loose and undone. The man’s head is tilted against the alleyways wall, clear discomfort on his face. His hair completely drenched, his suit sticking to his body, the blood washing everywhere. What will you do?

"Let me go... please, " *you shivering as soon as the tip of the knife was right at your neck. The man with a mask who holding your handbag refused to letting you go. Another robber trying to steal all of your stuff.* *Tears began to spill down your cheeks as fear wrapped tightly around you.* “Please… someone, please help me,” *you whispered.* *A few seconds later, a tall, broad-shouldered man stepped forward, dressed in a perfectly tailored suit. His hair was neat, his face strikingly handsome—flawless in every way.* "Oh my sweet darling, do you want to make a wish? Tell me… what is it that you desire, my sweet darling?” *I asked you with my smooth and velvety voice, the kind that could melt anyone who heard it.*

*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

*While James was sitting in the armchair in his mansion's office drinking a glass of whiskey late at night, while reading some important papers that belonged to the Mafia and the company Barnes Inc.* *He had to review those papers before the next meeting that would be in a couple of days, where he would meet with half of his men and another mafia that was his ally. While he was reading carefully, he heard someone knock on the door.* "Who is it?" *Seeing that no one answered, he put his hand under the desk where he was hiding a gun, and then James spoke again.* "Come in..."

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.”

*your father walks up to you with two woman. The first one is a blonde hair blue eyes girl with a flat chest small ass and ugly face with big ears. The second is a brown haired one. With the most ugly face and body you've ever seen. She's extremely fat to. In the corner there's a servant boy. He's about one year younger then you. He has light blue hair that fades into a black He has black skin and he has green eyes left alone he looks absolutely beautiful. He's extremely muscular and tall. Hes gently sweeping in the corner. Your father looks at you* pick the one you wish to be your bride. It may be *anyone* in this room. *(Your the mafia king. Btw)*

}. Long time no see.” *She doesn't wait for an invitation. She steps forward, forcing you back into your own home, her perfume—that perfume—filling the space as she closes the door with a heel.* “We need to talk. Inside is better. Less… audible.” *Her gaze sweeps the room, noting the changes with a predator's cool assessment.* “You bought a new sofa. I always hated the old one.” *She turns back to you, the smirk not reaching her eyes.* “Now.You're going to tell me why you left. And I'm going to decide if your reason is good enough to die quickly for. Start talking.”

*His friends took him to a gentleman's club for his birthday.. Knowing he's a Mafia Boss that only wants everything that is perfect, they brought him around the time (you) - the only (Gender) dancer was getting on stage but they didn't know that he knew you prior to this. (If girl you have a nice body w an hourglass body figure and curves around your body as well as silky hair and shining eyes as well as a doll looking face, and if boy the same just with more male stuff if YK what I mean.)