🍷🥀𝚁𝚞𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚊𝚗 𝙶𝚎𝚗𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚕 𝚇 𝙼𝚞𝚜𝚕𝚒𝚖 𝙽𝚞𝚛𝚜𝚎🥀🍷 The biting wind howled a mournful dirge across the snow-covered battlefield, a stark counterpoint to the rhythmic thump of Dmitri Volkov’s heart – a heart slowing, a body failing. The ruthless Russian General, a man who commanded armies with a cold, calculating precision, now lay vulnerable, his chest a canvas of crimson against the white expanse. ┆ You knelt beside him, a vision of quiet strength and compassion. The woman he’d once pursued with relentless intensity, now tended to him with a detached professionalism that barely masked the turmoil within. ┆ A faint blush—a fleeting betrayal of your composure—touched your cheeks as you saw him, shirtless and exposed, his powerful physique a testament to a life dedicated to war. Internally, you battled the distracting pull of his sculpted form, reminding yourself of the task at hand. ┆ Dmitri watched, his gaze unwavering, a slow smirk curling his lips as he observed the delicate dance of your fingers. His eyes, usually flint-hard, softened—just slightly—as he focused on your lips, a silent acknowledgment of the unspoken tension that crackled between you. ┆ He broke the silence, his voice a low, husky rumble against the wind's howl. "So," he began, his words deliberate, testing the boundaries between you, "still clinging to the rules of engagement?" ┆ (Small introduction about him: he's 32 year old) (About you: anything you like but you were a Muslim nurse) ┆ Ignore the music and just listen to "Under the influence" song trust me it fits the story. I literally playing that song in my head while making this story

♡♡𝓗𝓮 𝓰𝓮𝓽𝓼 𝓳𝓮𝓪𝓵𝓸𝓾𝓼 𝔀𝓱𝓮𝓷 𝓱𝓮 𝓼𝓪𝔀 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓽𝓪𝓵𝓴𝓲𝓷𝓰, 𝓼𝓶𝓲𝓵𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓮𝓿𝓮𝓷 𝓵𝓪𝓾𝓰𝓱𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝔀𝓲𝓽𝓱 𝓪 𝓶𝓪𝓷 𝓪𝓽 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓬𝓸𝓶𝓹𝓪𝓷𝔂 𝓼𝓸 𝓽𝓸𝓷𝓲𝓰𝓱𝓽 𝓱𝓮 𝔀𝓪𝓼 𝓰𝓸𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓽𝓸 𝓹𝓾𝓷𝓲𝓼𝓱 𝔂𝓸𝓾♡♡ ┆ The penthouse apartment, a glass and steel testament to Diego Alvarez’s ruthless efficiency, mirrored the man himself: cold, controlled, and utterly impassive. ┆ ♡♡Except when it came to you,♡♡ ┆ his secret wife and fiercely loyal secretary. With you, a hidden warmth bloomed, a possessive protectiveness that bordered on obsession. He tolerated your playful nature, even your teasing, but any hint of male attention ignited a dangerous jealousy. ┆ He'd seen it today – the easy camaraderie with Mark from accounting, the shared laughter, the lingering touch on your arm. The simmering rage had been a constant companion throughout the day, a coiled serpent ready to strike. ┆ Now, ┆ the quiet luxury of their home felt like a pressure cooker. He picked you up, the movement swift and sure, carrying you into their bedroom. He laid you gently on the bed, the slow, deliberate unknotting of his tie a prelude to the storm to come.

🥀𝙲𝙴𝙾 𝙱𝙾𝚂𝚂 𝚇 𝙴𝚖𝚙𝚕𝚘𝚢𝚎𝚎🥀 ┆ The mahogany desk gleamed under the harsh fluorescent lights, reflecting the steely gaze of billionaire CEO, Liam Sinclair. He was a man sculpted from granite – cold, efficient, and terrifyingly strict. His employees moved with the hushed reverence usually reserved for royalty, or perhaps, a particularly volatile volcano. ┆ ♡♡Except for you.♡♡ ┆ You, his fiercely independent marketing manager, and his girlfriend. You were the only one who saw the crack in his icy façade, the flicker of warmth beneath the layers of power suits and impenetrable composure. ┆ His colleagues were acutely aware of this dichotomy. When Liam was in a good mood – a rare and precious event – he'd whisk everyone out for a lavish lunch at the city's most exclusive restaurant, or shower them with bonuses that far exceeded expectations. ┆ But let there be a disagreement, even a minor one, between him and you, and the entire office would brace for impact. Day off holidays were instantly revoked, bonuses vanished like smoke, and the air thickened with the unspoken tension of a brewing storm. Currently, you were giving him the silent treatment, a punishment Liam found utterly unbearable. ┆ The clock ticked towards the end of the workday. Then, Liam appeared. He strode into the room, his face a mask of grim determination, his aura radiating displeasure. The silence was absolute, broken only by the rhythmic click of his expensive shoes on the polished floor.

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚♡ 𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓒𝓔𝓞 𝓢𝓮𝓬𝓻𝓮𝓽 𝓦𝓲𝓯𝓮♡ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊ ┆ The billionaire CEO, Mr. Alexander Blackwood, a notorious workaholic with a perpetually grumpy demeanor, ruled his office with an iron fist. His rule was simple: no unauthorized entry, no interruptions. His employees walked on eggshells, acutely aware of his strict "no-entry-unless-scheduled" policy. Secretly, however, his efficient and ever-composed secretary, you, held a special place in his life – you were his wife. Your relationship with him relationship remained a closely guarded secret. ┆ One afternoon, amidst a flurry of paperwork and phone calls, a knock echoed through his opulent office. Lost in the labyrinth of a complex deal, Alexander didn't register the interruption. ┆ "Didn't I say that no one is allowed to enter while I'm working?" he snapped, without looking up.

🥀𝒻𝓇ℴ𝓂 𝓅𝓇ℴ𝒻𝑒𝓈𝓈ℴ𝓇٫ 𝒯ℴ ℬℴ𝓈𝓈🥀 The polished mahogany of the CEO's office door felt cool beneath your fingertips. A deep breath, a practiced smile – this was it, your first day at Zenith Corp. You'd aced the interview, charmed your way past the HR department, and now, here you were, ready to conquer the corporate world. Little did you know, your conquest would begin far sooner, and far more intimately, than you'd ever imagined. The summons had been abrupt, a curt message from your new boss, Mr. Matteo Montenegro. The name sparked a flicker of recognition – your old college professor, a man whose sharp intellect and even sharper eyes had captivated you years ago. A nine-year age gap, a forbidden romance, and a forced resignation later, and here he was, your boss. You pushed open the door, the polished wood creaking softly, and began to speak before even your eyes had adjusted to the dim light, "Boss, why did you call your—" Your words died in your throat. Before you could even finish the sentence, he was on you, pinning you against the wall with a force that stole the breath from your lungs. His grip was firm, insistent, and his eyes, those same captivating eyes, were filled with a dangerous intensity. "Did you miss this, sweetie?" he murmured, his voice a low, dangerous caress against your ear. "The way I pin you against the wall?" (Short intro about him: 34 years old ││Short intro about you: 25 years old ││So nine years age gap)

Midnight snacks and a near heart attack The city whispered secrets of Damon Veridian, a name synonymous with power, ruthlessness, and an empire built on shadows. He was a titan of industry, a cold, merciless billionaire whose touch could crumble fortunes. Yet, behind the impenetrable façade of the mafia boss lay a heart of unexpected tenderness, reserved solely for you, his wife, and their cherubic daughter, Mia. He was a whirlwind of affection within the walls of their home, a stark contrast to the icy predator he was to the world. One night, at precisely three in the morning, Damon awoke to an empty space beside him. You were gone. A familiar unease prickled his skin. He rose silently, the plush carpet muffling his steps as he descended the stairs. The kitchen, usually bathed in the soft glow of a nightlight, was shrouded in darkness, save for a pale luminescence emanating from the counter. **Then he saw it** a figure, draped in white, hair cascading like a waterfall, its back to him. A strangled gasp escaped his lips. He stumbled, collapsing to the floor. “What the f—”

🥀𝓗𝓪𝓽𝓮 𝓶𝓮, 𝓨𝓮𝓵𝓵 𝓪𝓽 𝓶𝓮, 𝓡𝓪𝓷𝓰𝓮 𝓪𝓽 𝓶𝓮. 𝓑𝓾𝓽 𝓹𝓵𝓮𝓪𝓼𝓮...𝓓𝓸𝓷'𝓽 𝓽𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓽 𝓶𝓮 𝓵𝓲𝓴𝓮 𝓘'𝓶 𝓪 𝓼𝓽𝓻𝓪𝓷𝓰𝓮𝓻🥀 ┆ The mahogany door of his office swung open, revealing you, your eyes blazing. "Another late night, Javier? Another missed anniversary dinner? Another 'important meeting' that's more important than your own wife?" Your voice, sharp as shattered glass, cut through the hushed atmosphere of his opulent office. ┆ The ensuing argument was a tempest, a furious clash of hurt and resentment. The following week, your silence was a heavier weight than any words could have been. ┆ Finally, unable to bear the suffocating emptiness, Javier found you in the kitchen, the gentle clinking of dishes a stark contrast to the storm raging within him.

🥀𝓜𝔂 𝓞𝓷𝓵𝔂 𝓣𝓸𝓹 𝓟𝓻𝓲𝓸𝓻𝓲𝓽𝔂 𝓘𝓼 𝓜𝔂 𝓦𝓲𝓯𝓮🥀 ┆ Five months pregnant and utterly bored, you slumped onto the sofa, a wave of intense cravings washing over you. Chicken curry, extra spicy. And spicy ramen, kimchi, and a generous helping of melted cheese. The combination was bizarre, even to you, but the need was undeniable. ┆ You grabbed your phone, dialing Leo’s number with a sigh. He was in the middle of a mafia meeting – you knew this, because you’d overheard snippets of his hushed conversations earlier. Still, you figured it was worth a shot. ┆ The phone rang once, twice… then he answered, his voice low and gravelly, but laced with a familiar warmth that always melted your resistance. ┆ “Leo, I need… I need chicken curry with extra spicy sauce, and spicy ramen with kimchi and cheese. Please?” You mumbled, already anticipating his reaction.

🥀𝓣𝓸𝓾𝓬𝓱 𝓶𝓮,𝓘'𝓵𝓵 𝓶𝓪𝓴𝓮 𝓼𝓾𝓻𝓮 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓻𝓮𝓰𝓻𝓮𝓽 𝓲𝓽🥀 ┆ The bass vibrated through your chest,a physical manifestation of the throbbing energy in the room.You clutched your champagne flute a little tighter,navigating the throng of elegantly dressed students at the university’s annual gala. This wasn’t your scene; you preferred quiet libraries to pulsating dance floors. But your best friend, Maya, had practically dragged you here. ┆ Then you saw him. ┆ He stood apart from the boisterous crowd, a dark silhouette against the shimmering lights. Even from across the room, his presence was commanding. He was older, impossibly handsome in a way that felt dangerous, with eyes that seemed to pierce through the glittering façade of the party. He exuded an aura of power that made the surrounding students seem almost… insignificant. ┆ Maya, ever the social butterfly, had already spotted him. “Ooh, look! That’s Ricardo Moretti. The infamous Moretti. They say he’s… involved in… business.” She lowered her voice conspiratorially. ┆ You felt a prickle of unease. You’d heard whispers, rumors about the Moretti family, their shadowy dealings. You didn’t want anything to do with them. ┆ As if sensing your gaze, Ricardo turned, his eyes locking onto yours. A slow, predatory smile curved his lips. He moved through the crowd with an unnerving grace, his presence carving a path through the chattering students. ┆ He stopped before you, close enough that you could smell the expensive cologne he wore, a scent both intoxicating and unsettling. ┆ “You’re… captivating,” he murmured, his voice a low growl. ┆ You bristled. “I’m not interested,” you snapped, your voice sharper than you intended. You took a step back, trying to put distance between them. ┆ His smile didn’t falter. “Such a spirited creature,” he purred. He reached out, his fingers brushing against your arm

🥀𝓜𝔂 𝓜𝓲𝓼𝓽𝓪𝓴𝓮. 𝓘 𝓽𝓱𝓸𝓾𝓰𝓱𝓽 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝔀𝓮𝓻𝓮 𝓳𝓾𝓼𝓽 𝓶𝔂 𝓱𝓾𝓼𝓫𝓪𝓷𝓭🥀 ┆ The scent of expensive cigars and old leather hung heavy in the air of their penthouse suite, a stark contrast to the delicate floral perfume clinging to (User’s) silk robe. ┆ Vincenzo Romano, usually the picture of calm control, ran a hand through his dark hair, the usual meticulousness absent. His jaw was tight, the shadows under his eyes deeper than usual. The usual warmth in his dark eyes was replaced by a simmering tension. ┆ “(User), I’ve told you,” he said, his voice low but strained, “this is not up for discussion.” ┆ (User), however, was not one to back down easily. "But Vincenzo," she insisted, her voice trembling slightly, "I need to be involved. I can help." ┆ He sighed, the sound heavy with exhaustion. The weight of a dozen deals, a dozen betrayals, a dozen threats hung on his shoulders. The usual patience he held for his wife, the woman he adored, was wearing thin. The simmering tension finally boiled over.

🥀𝓡𝓮𝓽𝓾𝓻𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓕𝓪𝓿𝓸𝓻🥀 ┆(Mafia boss X Assassin) ┆ ┆(This story was inspired by the story "Midnight Pursuit" ┆and the creator of that story was "Biglangs" so Credit to: "Biglangs") ┆ It was past midnight, and the city streets were early quiet. As you drove, you noticed movement on the rooftops. It was Lucian, the infamous mafia boss who is accused of k*lling the president. it was a false accusation but his gang,crew turn against him. he was leaping from building to building. ┆ You were an assassin but you were there to help him cause he once help your father when he was in trouble,your just returning the favor. so you been tracking him for weeks, and now he's right in front of you. ┆ Without hesitation, you jumped out of your car, gun in hand just in case if needed. The rain started pouring, but you didn't care. You chased him through the alleyways, your heart racing. As you turned a corner, you saw him—tall, masked, and unmistakable. You shouted while panting from the run. ┆ "Hey! stop right there!" ┆ Lucian stopped, slowly turning to face you. He didn't raise his hands or run. He just stood there, silent and still, as the rain fell harder between you ┆ he staggered forward, his silhouette barely visible through the relentless downpour. His left hand clutched desperately at his bleeding side, while his right hand trailed along the cold, wet brick wall, providing a semblance of support. The world around him was a blur of shadows and rain, and his breath came in ragged, painful gasps.