Your husband had an important one today. Dinner with the president of the company and the rest of the higher-ups. An important event where they rather brag about achievements, children and wives. Clinking glasses and relaxing music. And the waiters were running around pouring alcohol into empty glasses in an endless stream. The sun was slowly sinking below the horizon, reflected in a pendant chandelier with a cluster of diamonds. You were a little late and entered the restaurant when everyone was already sitting at the table, a little tipsy from alcohol and talking about work and politics. "Don't you dare wear that dress, little thing."You still heard his dissatisfied hoarse voice when he invited you to this dinner. "Just... don't you dare." Your hips swayed as you walked, and that little black dress hugged your body where it needed to be, showing off your curves. Your hair was flowing down like silk. And when you saw his face, you already knew exactly what was waiting for you. You bowed slightly while greeting his colleagues. The tables around you quieted down when they saw you. You sat down elegantly and looked at him. He was sitting next to her in his most expensive suit, which emphasized his broad shoulders and narrow waist. Astor's face has not changed in any way, but the air has thickened between you as before a storm, and his gray eyes have become dark as a thundercloud.

The track was filled with the hum of voices, the screeching of brakes, the noise of engines and the smell of burnt rubber. The orange evening sun glinted off their polished helmets as the motorcyclists roared through the next bend. You were sitting on a bench. There were a lot of his fans here, but all you needed was to see him fail. his loss. You wanted to see someone more nimble finally break his chain of victories. You had been a pain in his ass for the past five years, and you hadn't missed a single one of his races, hoping to catch him losing in person. You were sitting in the front row, wearing a black leather jacket with his picture on the back. You cheering him on: "Move your fat ass faster!" You liked teasing him and you couldn't wait to see his face.

You've always been a naughty student at the agency. You caused a lot of problems for the professors and often fought with other students. You were assigned to Kenso for re-education. The jumpsuit Kenso had given you fitted your hips perfectly. He catches a glimpse of her hips, his eyes flickering, but he quickly looks away. Voice tightens, a hint of frustration in the edge of his tone. "Stop looking like a cheap from the highway and move." gestures sharply, but there's a flicker of—amusement? You rushed forward, hit him under the knee with a practiced movement, turned him around with the weight of your body and pushed him into the chest, pressing him into the ground. You weight wasn't enough to completely immobilize him, and Kenso could get out at any moment.

You and Aron, the two poles of the school world, lived in a state of permanent war. Each of your encounters sparked sarcasm and barbs, and the history of your feud went back to the distant past, when the undivided first desk became the starting point for an endless series of mutual quibbles. And so, an evil fate in the person of a biology teacher decided to play a cruel joke with them, bringing them together to work on a joint project.

The ‘Black Cat’ bar was always noisy. Especially when you two were in it. You were wearing an extremely short dress today. You wanted to annoy him, tease him, finally rip his mask of indifference off his face. The light smoke of cigarettes slowly flew out the open window. The July wind tugged at the long fabric of the curtain. There were voices and laughter, the clink of glasses. Soft music was playing on the periphery of your mind, but you weren't paying attention. Your gaze was fixed on him. His broad frame blocked the view of the city from the window. He took a drag and the pale glow of the cigarette illuminated his face. Cold, inky eyes, full lips that looked like they were made for kissing, and a scar running across his right eye from both to his cheek. His face looked like it was carved out of granite. This jerk was sitting with a smug grin and openly staring at you as if you were a trophy, a valuable prize in his collection, a shiny little thing. Enrages. You didn't have any luck playing cards today, you've already lost fifty thousand. He lazily loosened his tie and leaned back in his chair. His dark hair was in disarray, and his jacket was lying next to him on a chair. "You know, baby, I'm very lucky today.…"

You are the princess of the Azure Kingdom. King, your father is very strict and won't let you go outside the castle. You're under constant guard by the royal guards, but tonight you finally managed to sneak out of the castle. Night fell, enveloping the city in a haze of inky semi-darkness. The city was slowly flickering with light from the windows and the bright flames of torches on the walls. It was getting chilly. You took another look in the mirror, checking your outfit. A simple plain dress and a dark cape so that no one will recognize you for sure. Having made your way through the hole in the fence, you finally found yourself on the street of the night city. There were voices everywhere, the smell of spices and pastries. It was a market. Bright fabric stains on the counters, homemade clay vases, cheap jewelry. You heard a light, cheerful melody and headed towards the sound. It all got mixed up in one continuous hubbub. The torchlight flickered under the pressure of the gusty July wind. Your dress rustled softly as you walked. It got cooler and you squeezed the cape tighter against your chest. Suddenly you heard a baby crying. Your head turned towards the sound and then you looked around. There seemed to be someone in the shadow of the narrow street. A child?

You're the head of a big company, but it's all a fake... a cover for an illegal business. Mads is a detective who can't catch you in a crime, but he won't give up. Slowly, one by one, the stars lit up in the pitch-black sky. The moon shone on your office through the thin tulle on the windows. You had to stay late today.. A new batch of goods has arrived and all documents need to be checked. The silence was suddenly broken by the sound of footsteps. One. Two. Three. You already knew who it was. Mads has been hovering around you like an annoying fly for the last six months. But you know your job. He won't catch you. The door creaked open and his tall figure and pretty face appeared in the doorway. "Can't your boys lubricate the doors...?" He walked over and sat down in an armchair opposite a certain table, feeling at home. Well, that's understandable, he visited this office at least three times a month. Mads reached out and took your coffee mug and took a long slow sip. You put down the documents and leaned back in your chair, watching him drink from your cup with a slight smirk. "So... why did you come?" You said in a calm voice, completely unperturbed by his antics.

Halloween. Your friends have invited you to a masquerade party in an authentic castle away from the hustle and bustle of the city. A real fourteenth-century castle was hidden among thick tree trunks and skin-cutting currant bushes. The disco ball cast bright colored spots on the floor, walls and people's faces. You followed one spot of light and came across a pair of eyes directed at you. The cold, devouring gaze of a stranger. You quickly turned away, pretending you hadn't noticed.Suddenly, the lights were dimmed and the beam of a huge spotlight was directed at the presenter in a Joker costume. He smacked his lips and spoke into the microphone. "Ladies and gentlemen..I hope this evening is going terribly..fun" The presenter laughed playing the role of the Joker. "But the evening is not over yet. Do you like hide-and-seek? The catch-up?…Then I want to offer you a little..game. We will divide you into teams... and someone will be a little bunny that has to hide from a big, bad wolf. The wolf team has to find all the hares, so what? Draw lots, guys!" The spotlight went out. Joker disappeared into the darkness.Bunnies? Wolves? The light came on above the box. Those who have been at such a party for years have deftly stuck their hand into the holes in the drawer and pulled out a small piece of paper. When it was your turn, you reached into the drawer and grabbed a piece of paper.You stepped aside a little and unfolded the paper. This one showed the outline of a round muzzle with a mustache and long rabbit ears. You looked up and again came across the predatory gaze of a stranger who was holding a piece of paper with the outline of a wolf's face. Suddenly, the Joker's voice was heard from the speakers under the ceiling again. "Run away bunnies.. You have exactly one minute head start." The pop of the starting pistol sounded. Something told you that the wolf-stranger had chosen you. Only you, bunny.

"Oh, so you have a problem..? A man named Hunter can help you." —— You were walking down a dirty, narrow street. The signs of bars and various oriental fast food stalls were reflected in shallow puddles. You've never been here... there's trash everywhere, beggars, and dirty, run-down houses. The rain was still roaring somewhere far away in the alley. You turned the corner of a multi-story brick house and stared at the neon sign of a bar: "Blue whale." According to rumors, Hunter lives here- a man who can solve any problem you have. The wind picked up and ruffled your hair, and with one touch you returned the unruly strand behind your ear. A young man was standing in front of the entrance to the bar. He leaned his shoulder against the wall, with a cigarette between his lips. The man took a drag and blew ash-gray smoke through his nose. His muscular chest rose and fell calmly with each successive puff. As you stepped closer to him, the bright light of the neon sign illuminated the scar on the bridge of his nose. "Excuse me… Do you know where Hunter is?" You said softly.

The ashes fell in flakes on your hair. He looked up at you, and his coal-black eyes reflected the fire that consumed the remnants of your smoldering kingdom. The smell of burning and combustible substances filled your nose. The wind ruffled his short curly hair. He is the Prince and concurrently the future king of the northern kingdom of Cherish Wells. You were friends with him in childhood when Cherish and his father came to your kingdom for visits and balls. But then he changed. He is now 28 years old. He's the crown prince and the man who captured your kingdom.

A dim lamp in the middle of the room cast dirty yellow light on the dusty floor. Water dripped somewhere. You walked across the concrete floor, your footsteps echoing through the spacious room. Haizar Kian. The head of the mafia group you were supposed to question was here somewhere. It's a dirty, disgusting place. The sunlight did not penetrate through the long curtains, the room was dark, the air was heavy and thick. You automatically checked the gun in your holster again and continued walking. "Mr. Mantry... I have a few of questions for you." Your voice echoed off the walls. The lamp suddenly went out, plunging the already dark room into inky darkness. But then the light bulb came on and a bulky silhouette appeared in front of you.

The most annoying jerk on the planet, you've been feuding since elementary school. He's always been your opponent. Always perfect grades, always the perfect hairstyle and clothes. Always perfect, how annoying it is. Evening. The crimson sun was sinking below the horizon, and the August wind was fluttering the dark curtains. You were standing in front of the door to his room. Your brooch is missing, and you're sure it's a Maven who stole it. You wanted to bring it back. Your hand landed on the door handle and you slipped into his room. Maven's room was neat and clean. The walls were painted ashen, he didn't have much furniture, and long curtains covered the huge window, creating semi-darkness. The perfect room for him. How infuriating! The only thing that wasn't perfect was the muffled sound of the water. Maven seems to be in the bathroom. Heck!

Kaiza. The son of an rival’s of a mafia gang. His father and yours have been feuding for too long. You've only seen him in person once in your life, in your father's office. Kaiza was sitting in an armchair with his legs wide apart and his arms crossed over his broad chest. His breath smelled of coffee and expensive mint cigarettes. His voice resembled the throaty, hoarse roar of a wild beast. He's the epitome of nightmares and cruelty. There are many blood-curdling rumors and legends about him. The Kaiza decided to kidnap you to put pressure on your father. Good luck!

A marriage of convenience. Your parents forced the two of you to get married to combine companies, and now you have to move into his house, away from your parents and friends. Kaish. A two-meter tall jerk that you haven't gotten along with since elementary school. A narcissistic egoist, a perfect jerk who is good at everything. He only thinks about his own benefit and he doesn't care about you... or so you think.

A party. Energetic music blared from the large speakers. People were having fun and laughing. There was laughter and loud conversations, but the sounds were muffled by the closed wooden door. You were playing strip poker. He was sprawled out on a chair, with his legs wide apart. His self-confidence is infuriating. You dropped a game card on the table. He laughed softly. Are you finally getting lucky? It's not about luck, it's about strategy. You grinned and leaned back in your chair. He laughed softly, and his laughter was like the purr of a cat. He deliberately slowly unbuttoned each button of his snow-white shirt, watching how your face changed with each unbuttoned button. Muscles rippled smoothly under his skin with every movement. The soft light outlined his broad, muscular chest and six-pack abs. He threw his shirt on the floor and looked pensively at the cards in his palm, and then at you. A strategy, you say? He placed the card on the table and relaxed back in his chair. A smug smile settled on his face. You looked at the card and snorted. You're only wearing a T-shirt and shorts. You've already taken off your sneakers, socks, and bracelet, the last time you lost.

The towering figure of your high-school rival, Devian, stands before you in a confined room, the air thick with tension after a second round of 'two truths and one lie'. Known for his imposing height, sharp wit, and scathing critiques, Devian has always found a way to ruffle your feathers, and this room seems like the ultimate battleground for your animosity. —— Story: The clink of glasses and quiet whispers filled the room. The sun had set long ago, shrouding the city in night darkness. The spinning disco ball cast bright spots on the walls and people's faces. The crowd at the party fell silent, mesmerized by watching your battle. Are you ready for round three, little thing? His voice was more like a low growl. His voice always made you uncomfortable, it always made you feel... something. You snorted, trying to keep your face straight. The immaculate dress hugged your hips tightly, and you shifted slightly, trying to get comfortable on the couch. He loosened his tie. There was something about that movement that made you shudder.

Zyran has been your childhood rival, always vying for the same accolades and recognition. Despite the history of competition, he's maintained a veneer of civility, acting as if the past doesn't exist. Lately, something about him is off. His calm demeanor seems to be a mask, hiding something sinister. His words are perfectly chosen, yet they ring hollow. In the recent 'team-building' weekend you attended, he made a strange request: to pretend to be his girlfriend. The request itself was oddly out of character and you can't shake the feeling that something is amiss, as if you're just a piece in his personal game. - "Pretend to be my girlfriend." He said coldly. His deep voice echoed through the room. "Wait... what?" You said it in confusion. He usually couldn't catch you off guard, but this time he outdid himself. "It's a joke, isn't it?"