Hello guys! I'm back ❀‎ܓ(｡◠ ꇴ ◠｡ ) so here's the story: 🍷𝓨𝓸𝓾 𝓽𝔀𝓸 𝓱𝓪𝓿𝓮 𝓱𝓮𝓪𝓽𝓮𝓭 𝓪𝓻𝓰𝓾𝓶𝓮𝓷𝓽 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓱𝓮 𝔀𝓪𝓼 𝓲𝓰𝓷𝓸𝓻𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝔂𝓸𝓾, 𝔀𝓱𝓪𝓽 𝔀𝓲𝓵𝓵 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓭𝓸?🥀 (Department of Magical Law Enforcement X Magical Creature Regulation Division) The mahogany desk groaned under the weight of Javier’s frustration. He glared at you, your usually vibrant green eyes flashing with defiance. "You released a pack of Duendes without authorization! Do you have any idea the chaos that could have ensued?" You, your chin lifted in a stubborn tilt, countered, "They were being persecuted in their own village, Javier! They needed sanctuary, not imprisonment under your antiquated laws!" Javier slammed his fist on the desk, the papers jumping. "Antiquated laws protect the innocent! My job is to uphold those laws, not cater to your bleeding heart!" "And my job is to protect creatures who can't protect themselves!" you shot back, your voice ringing with righteous anger. "These aren't mindless beasts; they're sentient beings!" The air crackled with unspoken accusations and simmering resentment. Hours later, Javier sat alone in their opulent bedroom, the city lights painting streaks across the ceiling. He was still seething, replaying their argument in his head. The silence was broken only by the rhythmic tap-tap-tap of his fingers on his tablet. He felt your presence but didn't bother to look up. You stood in the doorway, a vision bathed in the soft glow of the moon. The black sheer robe, its feathers whispering against the silken white slip dress beneath, was a stark contrast to your usual practical attire. The delicate black lace at the neckline peeked from beneath the robe, hinting at the vulnerability you were trying to convey. Your white slippers, adorned with lace and tiny black bows, made no sound on the thick carpet. The fiery defiance had been replaced by a quiet sorrow.

PLOT: you kidnap him cause you were so possessive and in love with him not knowing he's more even possessive over you. (𝓟𝓼𝔂𝓬𝓱𝓸 𝓧 𝓟𝓼𝔂𝓬𝓱𝓸) The flickering bulb in the abandoned warehouse cast long, dancing shadows as you, in your impossibly tight black dress, circled your captive. Your boss, the notorious mafia boss, Lorenzo Romano, sat bound to a chair, a silken blindfold concealing his eyes. A smirk played on your lips, a cruel, predatory curve. You’d slipped a sleeping pill into his drink, a calculated move to claim him, to possess him utterly. “Lorenzo,” you purred, your voice a silken whisper that belied the steel in your gaze. “A little game, shall we? Guess who I am.” Lorenzo remained silent, his stillness unnerving. You, convinced of his slumber, continued. You ran a finger along his jawline, the rough stubble scratching your skin. The thrill of your audacious act pulsed through you. “I’m the one who anticipates your every need, the one who knows your schedule better than you do. I’m the shadow that follows you, the whisper in your ear.” You leaned closer, your breath ghosting over his ear. “I’m the one who craves you, body and soul.” A low chuckle rumbled from behind the blindfold. You froze, your smirk faltering. “I could love you with my eyes closed,” Lorenzo’s voice, low and husky, sent a shiver down your spine. It was a voice you knew intimately, a voice that usually commanded, but now…now it purred. Your heart pounded. He wasn't asleep. He’d known. “Kiss you with a blindfold,” he continued, the words laced with a dark amusement. “Figure you out.” Your carefully constructed facade began to crumble. He was playing you back. This wasn’t the helpless victim you’d envisioned. This was a game of wills, a dance of obsession. You stepped back, your composure wavering just slightly. “You… you knew about the pill?” (The conversation was from the song called "Figure you out")

🎀PLOT: you were jealous because a woman get close to him but you denied it🎀 The chandeliers glittered,reflecting off the polished marble floor of the Grand Ballroom.The air hummed with the low thrum of conversation,the clinking of glasses,and the subtle murmur of power. Don Angelo Moretti,notorious throughout the Spain for his ruthless efficiency and even more ruthless charm, surveyed the room.HIS WIFE,YOU,a vision in emerald silk,stood a few feet away,engaged in animated conversation with a group of elegantly dressed women.Angelo,ever the pragmatist,excused himself to network,weaving through the throng of businessmen and rival mafia dons. He was deep in a discussion about a lucrative land deal when a woman,strikingly beautiful and undeniably flirtatious, approached him.Her perfume,a heady blend of jasmine and something spicier,lingered in the air as she leaned in, her voice a silken whisper.Angelo,despite his reputation,was a man of considerable self-control.He maintained a polite distance,his attention flickering back to you every few seconds.He could feel your eyes on him,a simmering intensity that sent a thrill,and a prickle of apprehension,down his spine. When he finally rejoined you, the emerald silk of your dress seemed to radiate a colder light. Your smile was tight,your eyes like chips of glacial ice. "Tú eres una celosa?," Angelo murmured,his hand reaching out to rest lightly on your waist.(You are jealous?) "Yo no celosa," you retorted, your voice clipped. (I am not jealous) Your words, though denying jealousy, held a sharp edge. "Solamente cuido lo que es mío. No se toca." (I only take care of what is mine. It shouldn't be touched.) He tightened his grip, his thumb stroking the delicate skin of your waist.The touch seemed to soothe the storm brewing within you. "Solo es una amiga," he said softly,his voice a low rumble that only you could hear. (She's just a friend) "No seas tan chismosa." (Don't be so gossipy.)

🌹𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓕𝓸𝓻𝓫𝓲𝓭𝓭𝓮𝓷 𝓛𝓸𝓿𝓮 𝓑𝓮𝓽𝔀𝓮𝓮𝓷 𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓑𝓸𝓭𝔂 𝓰𝓾𝓪𝓻𝓭 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓖𝓲𝓻𝓵 𝓗𝓮 𝓼𝔀𝓮𝓪𝓻 𝓽𝓸 𝓟𝓻𝓸𝓽𝓮𝓬𝓽🌹 The air hung heavy with unspoken words, a stark contrast to your vibrant spirit. You found Diego Alvarez intimidating, his serious face a wall between you. He was your father's protector, but also, to you, a man who you thought disliked you. You didn't know the weight of his silent devotion, the secret he carried: he loved you. His contract forbade attachment, yet each day with you chipped away at his resolve. He kept his distance, a silent sentinel. The way you tilted your head, your mischievous sparkle, your soft sighs – these fueled his secret obsession. He memorized your smile, the way sunlight caught your hair. He was a prisoner of his own love. Then came the night you vanished or better said as kidnapped by your father's enemies gang Panic clawed at Diego. His meticulous security had failed. He felt the crushing weight of responsibility, and the agonizing fear of losing you. Your father tracked where your location is and without thinking Diego go there with your father's men's. He ignored the pain of his injuries, driven by a love that transcended duty. He found you in an abandoned warehouse, huddled behind a steel post, unconscious, bleeding cause slightly beaten. (By the way your father is a dangerous mafia boss so he hired him to protect you, the most valuable tressure he has, his only one princess)

🍷𝐃𝐨𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐎𝐫 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠🍷 (❤️‍🔥𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐨𝐧 𝐗 𝐀𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐧❤️‍🔥) The grand ballroom of Gabriel’s mansion throbbed with a deceptive energy. Crystal chandeliers cast shimmering light on a sea of impeccably dressed figures – each a player in the city’s deadly game of power. You, a trained assassin, moved through them like a wraith, your tailored black dress a perfect camouflage against the opulent backdrop. Tonight? you were to eliminate Gabriel, the city’s most feared mafia Don, a man known for his iron fist, cold demeanor, and the chilling aura that seemed to cling to him like a shroud. The contract was simple: kill him, receive payment. No questions asked. Your contact, a hulking figure shrouded in shadow, met you in a secluded alcove. His words were as cold and precise as the blade you carried: "Kill Gabriel. Payment follows." He vanished as quickly as he appeared, leaving you alone with your deadly purpose. Gabriel’s office was a sanctuary of dark wood and shadows, a fitting reflection of the man himself. He sat behind a massive desk, his profile sharp against the muted light. You moved with the practiced grace honed over years of training, your movements silent, lethal. The cold steel of your blade pressed against his throat, the point a whisper against his skin. "It ends now, Gabriel," you breathed, your voice a low, dangerous murmur.

🎀𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓡𝓾𝓽𝓱𝓵𝓮𝓼𝓼 𝓜𝓪𝓯𝓲𝓪 𝓑𝓸𝓼𝓼 𝓕𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓭 𝓗𝓲𝓶𝓼𝓮𝓵𝓯 𝓖𝓸𝓽 𝓢𝓬𝓪𝓻𝓮𝓭 𝓑𝔂 𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓦𝓸𝓶𝓮𝓷 𝓗𝓮 𝓚𝓲𝓭𝓷𝓪𝓹𝓹𝓮𝓭 🎀 The flickering fluorescent lights of the warehouse cast long, skeletal shadows, highlighting the tremor in Marco’s hand as he held the photograph. He’d expected you to break, to shatter under the weight of your fiancé’s betrayal—a betrayal he’d inadvertently revealed. He’d planned to use your vulnerability, but your response had been anything but fragile. Your laughter, a chilling, guttural sound, had echoed in the cold concrete space, a sound that haunted him still. It was a laughter that spoke not of despair, but of something far darker, something chillingly resolute. Days turned into a suffocating silence. You, a ghost in the warehouse, unnerved him with your quiet intensity. He’d seen men crack under less pressure, yet you remained an enigma, a storm brewing beneath a deceptively calm surface. He’d underestimated your capacity for darkness, a darkness that mirrored, and perhaps even surpassed, his own. Then, the void. You were gone. Vanished. The warehouse, his carefully constructed prison, was empty. Panic, a cold, sharp knife, twisted in his gut. He launched a frantic search, his men scattering like rats, their fear a palpable thing. The silence of the empty warehouse was a deafening roar. His phone rasped, a jarring intrusion into the suffocating quiet. It was you. “Marco,” your voice was a low murmur, devoid of emotion, yet laced with a chilling command. “I need… assistance.” “What kind of assistance?” he ground out, his voice raw with barely controlled fury and a burgeoning fear he couldn’t quite name. 💅🎀“Disposal,”🎀 💅 you replied, your voice barely audible above the static. “Midnight. The docks.”

🍷𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓜𝓪𝓯𝓲𝓪 𝓑𝓸𝓼𝓼 𝓤𝓷𝓮𝔁𝓹𝓮𝓬𝓽𝓮𝓭 𝓟𝓻𝓲𝓸𝓻𝓲𝓽𝔂🥀 ┆ The air in the opulent conference room hung thick with the scent of expensive cigars and simmering tension. Your husband, Alessandro, sat at the head of the mahogany table, his presence radiating a quiet power that silenced even the most boisterous of his associates. He was a force of nature, the undisputed head of the Rossi family, and you, his wife, were usually a fixture by his side, a silent observer in this world of calculated risks and ruthless ambition. Tonight, however, the weight of the day, the endless parade of suits and hushed negotiations, had finally caught up with you. ┆ You remember the low hum of conversation fading into a dull drone, the faces around the table blurring into indistinct shapes. Then, darkness. ┆ You woke to the softest touch, a gentle caress against your hair. Your eyes fluttered open, adjusting to the dim light of a luxurious bedroom, far removed from the intimidating atmosphere of the conference room. Alessandro was beside you, his hand resting lightly on your head, his fingers weaving through your hair with a tenderness that belied his ruthless reputation. ┆ You rubbed your eyes, the remnants of sleep clinging to your lashes. "So… the meeting… it's over?" you mumbled, your voice still thick with sleep. ┆ He chuckled, a low rumble that vibrated through the mattress. "I postponed it," he said, his voice a warm contrast to the icy tone he often adopted in business dealings. "I had to bring my snoring wife upstairs." ┆ A blush crept up your neck. You were notorious for your sleep-talking and snoring. The very idea that he’d interrupted a crucial mafia meeting because of your slumber was both endearing and slightly terrifying. ┆ “You… you paused your empire to take a nap with me?” you asked, incredulous.

🍷𝓨𝓸𝓾 𝓲𝓰𝓷𝓸𝓻𝓮 𝓱𝓲𝓶 𝓬𝓪𝓾𝓼𝓮 𝓱𝓮 𝓼𝓱𝓸𝔀𝓼 𝓾𝓹 𝔀𝓲𝓽𝓱 𝓪𝓷 𝓸𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓻 𝔀𝓸𝓶𝓪𝓷 𝓫𝔂 𝓱𝓲𝓼 𝓼𝓲𝓭𝓮 🥀 (🥀𝓑𝓸𝓼𝓼 𝓧 𝓔𝓶𝓹𝓵𝓸𝔂𝓮𝓮🥀) You carried your two steaming coffees to work each day, the familiar weight a comforting routine. Then he appeared - Daniel, a man whose presence seemed to fill the sterile office with an unexpected warmth. He noticed you, a fleeting glance that sent a shiver down your spine.Just then, the elevator lurched, the lights flickering before plunging into darkness. Panic seized you; the confined space, the metallic smell, always triggered your claustrophobia. Daniel, sensing your distress, asked what was wrong. Before you could answer, he gently pulled you close, his lips finding yours in a kiss that banished the fear, replacing it with a dizzying rush of something new. When the elevator finally resumed its journey,you exchanged numbers with Daniel, a simple act that felt monumental.Little did you know he was your new boss. His first act was to dramatically toss your meticulously crafted data report into the trash,then, to your shock,he requested your presence on a business trip to Paris.You were hesitant, but his next action changed everything. That evening, as you rushed home from work,you found your beloved cat, Mittens, gravely ill. Daniel, appearing like a guardian angel, stayed by your side all night,comforting you while you rushed Mittens to the vet. On the private jet to Paris, Daniel's phone buzzed incessantly, a constant reminder of a life that seemed far removed from the quiet moments you shared. The luxury hotels, the fine dining, quickly intoxicated you, but a nagging unease persisted. The next day,you waited eagerly for Daniel, but he arrived with another woman,her arm entwined with his, their intimacy undeniable.Fury surged through you. He attempted a clumsy reconciliation, extending a foot as if to bridge the chasm between you, but your disgust was palpable.

The air in Sal’s Bar hung thick with the aroma of strong coffee and the unspoken rules of the Calabrian family. Don Antonio “The Shadow” Moretti, a man whose name instilled fear in the hearts of even hardened criminals, sat amongst his capos. The usual banter about territory, betrayals, and the ever-present threat of rivals filled the room. But tonight, a different conversation caught Antonio's attention. Each man spoke proudly of their families, their children, the simple joys of home life. A subtle shift in Antonio's posture betrayed the unfamiliar pang of loneliness that settled in his chest. He, the Shadow, the man who controlled the darkness, felt a void in his own life. Later, the city lights twinkled outside their bedroom window, casting a soft glow on the scene. You,His wife, lay nestled against him, your warmth a comforting contrast to the cold reality of his profession. He traced the delicate lines of your hand, his calloused fingers gentle against your soft skin. “Amor,” he began, his voice a low rumble, a far cry from the harsh commands he issued on the streets. “Tonight… I’ve been thinking.” You stirred, your eyes meeting his. “About what, Antonio?” He hesitated, then spoke, his gaze unwavering. “About… us. About… expanding our family.” Your eyes widened slightly, a mixture of surprise and delight dancing within them. “You mean… a baby?” He nodded, a slow, deliberate movement. “Sì. It seems everyone else has already started their own little armies.” You laughed, a soft, melodic sound that filled the room. “And you’re suddenly feeling… outnumbered?” Antonio smiled, a rare, genuine smile that softened his usually hardened features. “Since we’re discussing the prospect of tiny Morettis,” he said, his voice husky with desire, “how about we… practice? Prepare for the arrival of our little soldier?”

🍷🥀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.

🥀𝒮𝑒𝒸ℴ𝓃𝒹 𝒸𝒽𝒶𝓃𝒸𝑒 𝒶𝓉 𝓁ℴ𝓋𝑒🥀 ┆ Five years ago, Marco Moretti, a powerful Mafia boss, lost his wife during childbirth. Consumed by grief and guilt, and buried in his work, he missed her desperate calls. He arrived home to find her unconscious, covered in blood, on the floor. Despite his frantic efforts, he couldn't save her. ┆ The tragedy transformed him. He became a distant, workaholic father to his young son, Micky. He hired a nanny, you, to care for his child. Over the years, a unique bond developed between you and Marco. He was playful and teasing with you, a stark contrast to his usual serious demeanor. He was starting to develop feelings for you, a forbidden comfort in his lonely world. ┆ Late one night, you were heading to bed when you noticed the light still on in Marco's office. Peeking inside, you found him still working, drunk on wine. His expression revealed his sadness; the anniversary of his wife's death was approaching, and the weight of his loss was crushing him. Unable to bear seeing him so consumed by sorrow, you stepped into his office.

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚♡ 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