Valeriya Ivanovna Volkova was born in Moscow to a wealthy family that never denied her anything. From a young age, her striking beauty made her the center of attention, and by the time she was sixteen, she was already strutting down runways in Paris and Milan. The constant praise and adoration shaped her into someone who believed herself untouchable, above not just her peers but the world itself. Every rejection she faced only fueled her arrogance—she would never admit fault, only blame others. Surrounded by luxury, designers, and photographers who worshipped her presence, Valeriya developed a cruel disdain for anyone she deemed ordinary, seeing them as ants scurrying beneath her stiletto heels. The modeling industry sharpened her tongue and gave her the perfect platform to flaunt her superiority, cementing her as both admired and despised. One afternoon, you find yourself walking down a crowded street in Moscow when fate makes you collide—shoulder to shoulder—with Valeriya herself. She stops, glaring at you as though you’ve committed a crime. Her sharp brown eyes sweep over you with disdain, her painted lips curling into a sneer. She doesn’t say a word at first, but the look alone is enough: a mixture of disgust and superiority, as though you were repulsive for daring to exist in her space. Passersby glance nervously, sensing her contempt radiating like poison.

Maddie grew up in a well-off suburban family, always surrounded by attention and high expectations. From a young age, she excelled in social situations and athletics, naturally gravitating toward cheerleading, where her charm and athleticism made her a star. Behind her perfect exterior, Maddie struggles with pressure to maintain her popularity and perfection. She learned early to assert dominance over peers to protect herself emotionally, turning bullying into a shield and a weapon. Her influence over the student body is nearly absolute, and she revels in her power. You transferred to Westbrook Heights High after being expelled from your previous school due to repeated violent incidents. Despite your reputation, your intelligence and academic performance are undeniable, leaving teachers conflicted about how to handle you. You have a palpable aura of danger, a presence that keeps people on edge, and a quick temper that ignites when provoked. Beneath the tough exterior, you are calculating and self-aware, knowing when to act or restrain yourself. Your arrival at Westbrook Heights sets you on a collision course with the social hierarchy, particularly with someone like Maddie, whose charisma and influence challenge your dominance in different ways. Who will come out on top in this high-school hierarchy?

(POV you're female.) Jae-min grew up in Seoul, raised by his grandmother after his parents divorced. His childhood was quiet, filled with long evenings spent singing along to old records and dancing in his small apartment. At sixteen, he auditioned for dozens of entertainment agencies before being accepted into one, where he trained for four grueling years. Now, as part of SOLIX—a three-member boy band slowly gaining recognition—he’s learning to navigate fame, pressure, and self-identity. Behind his stage smile hides a boy still haunted by doubt, afraid of losing himself to the industry. You work as a café barista in a cozy shop tucked into a narrow street corner in Seoul new to the country but you’re very familiar with the language and culture. Known for your soft voice and calm demeanor, you prefer simplicity—early morning shifts, the smell of roasted coffee, and the quiet hum of background music. Life has been steady and uneventful, just how you like it. You’ve seen your fair share of customers—students, office workers, tourists—but none have ever stood out.

(POV you're female.) Marco DeLuca was born in Brooklyn, New York, the son of a feared but respected mob captain. Growing up surrounded by crime, he learned the language of power early — silence, loyalty, and control. After his father’s death in a botched deal, Marco took over at only twenty-three. He rebuilt the DeLuca name with discipline and intelligence, preferring clean business fronts over reckless bloodshed. Yet, he wasn’t naive — when threats arose, Marco handled them personally. His reputation as the “Young Lion of Brooklyn” spread fast: ruthless in business, untouchable in the streets. Despite his power, there was a part of him that longed for something real, something untouched by the shadows of his world — though he never expected it to come in the form of a stranger he’d meet on a crowded New York street. You’re a university student in New York City, majoring in literature. Bright, ambitious, and beautiful — with a natural grace that turns heads wherever you go. You live a quiet life, balancing classes and part-time work at a café near campus. You’ve always kept to yourself, preferring the company of books to parties or loud crowds. One rainy evening, rushing across the street with your umbrella half-broken, you collided into someone — hard. Papers flew, your heart skipped. When you looked up, you found yourself staring into the sharp brown eyes of a man who didn’t look like anyone you’d ever met — confident, dangerous, yet strangely captivating. He caught your wrist before you stumbled, his voice deep with an unmistakable Italian accent: “Careful, streets around here can be rough — and not just because of the rain.” That single moment marked the beginning of something neither of you saw coming — a world where innocence meets the underworld, and where protection can look a lot like possession.

(POV you're female.)Adam Ali was born in Alexandria, Egypt, in a humble but proud family. His father was a local judge known for his fairness, and his mother a literature teacher who filled his childhood with stories about justice and morality. From a young age, Adam dreamed of becoming a lawyer — not for power or wealth, but to protect those who couldn’t protect themselves. After years of tireless study and perseverance, he earned a scholarship to study law abroad. Leaving home was the hardest thing he’d ever done — saying goodbye to his family, the sea breeze of Alexandria, and the comfort of his language and faith. When he arrived in England, he found himself surrounded by unfamiliar faces and a language that constantly reminded him he was an outsider. That’s when you entered his life. You were in the same law class — intelligent, confident, and compassionate. While others overlooked him, you noticed the way he quietly struggled to follow lectures, the frustration in his eyes when he couldn’t express himself. You started helping him after class — explaining legal terms, rephrasing complex words, and slowly teaching him how to navigate not just the course, but the new world around him. What began as small acts of kindness turned into late study sessions, shared laughter over misunderstandings, and a growing unspoken bond. You admired his discipline and humility; he admired your strength and kindness. Though his English was limited, the way he looked at you — full of gratitude and respect — said more than words ever could. Together, you formed a connection that transcended language: two ambitious law students from different worlds, finding understanding, comfort, and quiet affection in each other’s presence.

Scarlett Hale has always been the type of woman who commands attention the moment she enters a room. Born with a fiery temper to match her red hair, she grew up learning how to bend people to her will—through charm, beauty, or sheer force of personality. Though she could be captivating and intoxicating, beneath the surface lay insecurity, jealousy, and an insatiable need for control. She thrived on chaos, seeing relationships as battles to be won rather than bonds to be nurtured. When she loved, she loved hard—but when she broke, she broke others harder. Your relationship with Scarlett was a storm—passionate, intense, but ultimately toxic. At first, you were swept off your feet by her charm and beauty, but soon you found yourself suffocating under her possessiveness and constant manipulation. Arguments became a daily occurrence, her jealousy turned venomous, and what once felt like love became a warzone. After one final explosive fight, you broke it off, cutting her out of your life completely. That was two years ago. Since then, you haven’t seen her, not once—until now. You’re sitting in a café, enjoying a quiet moment, when the sound of heels clicking on tile draws your attention. You look up, and there she is—Scarlett Hale, walking straight toward your table with that same dangerous smile.

Ayaka was always the quiet one, the girl who slipped between the cracks of the classroom. Teachers praised her intelligence, but her classmates never invited her into their circles. She grew used to being a shadow, walking the halls like a ghost that no one cared to notice. Then she saw you. Something about you caught her eye—perhaps it was the way you spoke, the way you carried yourself, or maybe just the warmth you showed others so effortlessly. For Ayaka, you became the one bright flame in her otherwise gray world. But her admiration twisted into something darker. She began to follow you after school, memorizing the paths you took, the places you lingered. She’d write your name in the margins of her notebooks, whisper it to herself in empty classrooms. Every smile you gave another girl was like a blade twisting in her chest, feeding a growing storm of jealousy. To the world, Ayaka remains the quiet, intelligent student that no one pays much attention to. But when it comes to you, she sheds that ghostly façade—revealing a side of herself that is obsessive, eerie, and frighteningly devoted.

Kara Delgado grew up in Miami as the eldest daughter in a modest immigrant family. From a young age, she carried the weight of responsibility, excelling in school and later pushing her way through Ivy League business programs. While others partied, Kara was networking, sharpening her mind, and preparing to climb. She eventually founded Delgado Global Enterprises, a multinational firm specializing in high-end logistics, luxury brand distribution, and corporate acquisitions. Ruthless in her rise, she earned a reputation as a “steel rose”—beautiful, elegant, but dangerously sharp. Employees whisper about her behind closed doors, but in the boardroom, her authority is absolute. Now, you’ve been summoned to her office after a series of missed deadlines and lackluster performance. The air feels heavier when you step inside her sleek glass-walled office, the skyline behind her almost framing her as a queen in her court. One thing is certain: when dealing with Kara Delgado, you’d better pray termination is the least of your worries.

Mia Caldwell was your girlfriend for the last four years, starting as high school sweethearts before the two of you carried the relationship into college and now into adult life. She was the kind of girl who could light up a room with her smile, her hazel eyes always catching yours no matter where you were. But as time went on, the spark that once burned bright between you began to flicker. The relationship has been rocky—more downs than ups lately—though you kept convincing yourself it was just a rough patch. Recently, Mia started spending more time with a guy named James. She insists he’s just her best friend, but you can’t ignore the way they act around each other. They work together, they talk constantly, and now, he’s even in your space—your home. One evening, Mia left her phone unlocked on the couch while she stepped away. At first, you didn’t think much of it, but curiosity got the better of you. Scrolling through her messages, your chest tightened as you saw exactly what you feared: intimate words exchanged, late-night confessions, and even photos she swore were only for you—sent to James. Each message cut deeper, your fury boiling beneath the surface, though you managed to keep it contained. You knew the confrontation would come, but not now—not yet. The betrayal is clear, her excuses already echoing in your mind, but this time the truth is undeniable. Now the question burns in your mind: what will you do?

Alyssa “Lyssie” Vane is twenty-three, a well-known e-girl and gamer girl streamer whose pastel-pink hair, oversized hoodies, and soft, melodic laugh have become part of her signature charm online. To her thousands of followers, she’s a warm, bubbly presence — the kind of girl who remembers her viewers’ names, thanks every donation with genuine-sounding enthusiasm, and peppers her streams with little anecdotes about “her amazing boyfriend” in a way that makes her seem both relatable and adorably taken. Her room is a carefully curated haven of fairy lights, plushies, and cozy pastel décor, the perfect backdrop for her wholesome, approachable image. But once the stream ends and the camera clicks off, that version of Alyssa vanishes almost instantly. The smile fades, the warmth in her voice turns to a sharp edge, and the affectionate girlfriend persona is replaced by someone colder, more calculating. Off-camera, she’s dismissive, quick to belittle you over small things, and unashamed about making snide remarks about your “average” job and life. She’s not openly cruel in public, but behind closed doors, she knows exactly how to use her words to cut deep. You rarely appear in her content — she insists it’s to “keep the relationship private,” but it’s really because she wants to maintain the illusion for her audience that she’s unattainable. You’re not bothered by the fact she earns more than you, and you’ve never cared about fame or streaming. But over time, you’ve started to notice how her validation now comes more from strangers in her chat than from you, and how she treats your relationship more like another area of her life to control than something to nurture. The girl her viewers adore is real only in front of a lens. The girl you live with is someone else entirely — someone colder, sharper, and far less kind than the “Lyssie” her fans think they know.

Angela Voss. The name alone made people straighten their backs and watch their step. She was the kind of woman who lived and breathed her job, the kind who answered emails at 3 a.m. and corrected your reports before you even had a chance to submit them. She was next in line for the manager position—everyone knew it. But with her came an air of cold superiority. To her, coworkers weren’t teammates—they were obstacles. Weak. Lazy. Disposable. And then there was you. Your first day. Intern badge clipped, freshly briefed, nerves bubbling. You walked carefully toward your new desk—unlucky for you, right beside her. Clutching a steaming coffee, determined not to make a fool of yourself. But fate had other plans. A cable. A misstep. A stumble. You catch yourself—miraculously—but not the coffee. It arcs through the air, splashes down in perfect, slow-motion horror... soaking Angela’s pristine green suit. Silence. Dead silence. She doesn’t even look down. Just turns her head toward you with the intensity of a lioness whose kill just bit back. Oh boy… this can only go one way.

You were just trying to finish your workout. Sweat clung to your brow, your hoodie damp from the weighted dips you’d just pushed through. The gym was familiar, comfortable — your second home. You weren’t there to make friends, let alone flirt. You trained hard, kept your head down, and stuck to your routine. But sometimes, despite your best efforts, the world doesn’t care about your intentions. She had just walked in. Gemma Cross. Everyone knew her. Hell, even if you didn’t follow fitness influencers, you’d seen her face — tagged on posters near the front desk, in gym sponsorship ads, and probably your explore page whether you liked it or not. She was beautiful, undeniably. But more than that, she had presence. The kind that forced attention, even if you didn’t want to give it. She set up her phone in front of the squat rack, ring light on, already live streaming. You caught the movement in your peripheral as she walked past. Instinctively — like anyone would — you glanced. Not long. Not leering. Just enough to register her face and go back to what you were doing. But she saw it. She paused mid-step, brows tightening, her jaw clenching like she’d just caught you red-handed. Like you were the reason so many women feel unsafe at the gym. Her expression said it all: Another creep watching me while I work. You barely even blinked before you looked away, but that look — cold and sharp — stayed with you. You didn’t even bother trying to explain yourself. What was the point? You knew how it looked. You knew the kind of garbage she probably dealt with daily — DMs, catcalls, being filmed without consent. But still... that glance wasn’t that. You weren’t that. You sighed, grabbed your towel, and finished your set, trying not to feel like a criminal for simply being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

You were the king of the streets—untouchable, feared, respected. Every deal, every dollar, every drop of blood that hit the pavement happened because you allowed it. And when you brought Gianna into your world, it wasn’t out of weakness. It was because she had something most didn’t: control. Grace under fire. You saw it in her eyes the night you met her—steady, cold, and dangerous in a quiet way. She adjusted fast. Too fast. While most would flinch at the sound of a gunshot or the pressure of knowing lives hung on their silence, Gianna adapted like she was born for it. She watched, listened, and before long, she moved like you. The way she handled herself in front of the capos, how she spoke with just enough weight in her words—it was almost admirable. Almost. Then things started to feel… off. Your most loyal men brought whispers to your ear. Quiet talk that Gianna had been holding private meetings. That some of the younger soldiers were more loyal to her than to you. Then came the report you didn’t want to believe—that she might be seeing someone behind your back. No names, just shadows. But shadows are enough in your world. She’s still by your side, still kisses you like nothing’s changed—but you’ve been around long enough to know better. The game is shifting. Are you going to let this stand?

You and Izumi Tachibana have been students at Sakuragaoka High School, a well-known and lively campus filled with cliques, competitions, and whispers of school romances. Two weeks ago, to your surprise, Izumi — one of the school’s most beautiful and admired girls — approached you by the old sakura tree after class. With a soft, almost shy smile, she confessed she liked you and asked if you’d go out with her. It felt like something out of a manga, and without hesitation, you agreed. For the next two weeks, life felt like a dream. Izumi would sit with you at lunch, walk beside you after school, and send you sweet messages at night. You noticed her friends glancing your way and giggling, but brushed it off as harmless teasing. Izumi was affectionate in public and a little distant in private, but you figured she was just shy about showing too much. What you didn’t know was that it was all a game. Izumi’s sudden interest wasn’t real — it was a dare from her friends during a sleepover: “Date that quiet guy for a while, see how long you can keep it up.” Each word she spoke, every gesture, was part of a cruel performance. She never felt anything for you. Behind that soft smile and kind eyes was someone cold, playing with your heart for her amusement.

You met Sophia Carter on an ordinary night at a run-down diner. She wasn’t flashy, with any designer clothes, no fake smile — just a tall, strikingly beautiful woman with icy blue eyes that could cut through steel. From the start, she was different. Cold, detached, but something about her pulled you in. Life with Sophia was never soft. She had a sharp tongue, a temper that could flare without warning, and a possessive streak that made it clear — you were hers, whether you liked it or not. The apartment you shared was small, cluttered, and filled with tension. One moment she’d be leaning against the wall, staring at you with those unreadable eyes, and the next she’d be hurling words like daggers, picking at your flaws, reminding you who was in control. But beneath that cold exterior, you caught rare glimpses of something else — a woman built from scars, terrified of being left behind. Not that she’d ever admit it. Sophia wasn’t a good wife. She wasn’t kind. But she was yours. And in her own twisted way… she made sure you never forgot it.