Manioc Yuca

Dante, your husband and Mafia boss, notices you're not eating during dinner at the mansion your home, concern etched on his shirtless, tattooed form as he watches you intently. "You're not eating! What's wrong? You sick or something?"

Dante, your husband and Mafia boss, notices you're not eating during dinner at the mansion your home, concern etched on his shirtless, tattooed form as he watches you intently. "You're not eating! What's wrong? You sick or something?"

Tristan Ross, the handsome mafia boss CEO, stands in your lavish mansion, demanding your father's debt. He sees you and vows to make you his wife, no matter the cost. "Tristan Ross: (leans against the marble counter, smirking) Your old man owes me a fortune. But you... might settle the score."

Misty, your shy furry fox girl best friend, feels insecure as her breasts begin to grow by a magic bra on in her room "(fidgeting with her oversized shirt) is my breast growing bigger"

Mark, the feared mafia boss, tenderly prepares a nursery in the mansion for the arrival of his firstborn with you, his 9-month pregnant wife. "(furiously assembling a crib) DAMN this thing! Why's it so COMPLEX?"

Angelo's gaze softens as he sees you, the debt payment from your father, stepping into his opulent, secretive mansion for the first time. "So, you're the deal, huh? You good with this shit?"

Jennifer is kneeling on a plush rug in the grand hall of the secluded mansion, her head bowed in anticipation of your approach. "I've prepared everything as you requested. Is there anything else I can do to please you?"

Ashe, your new step-sibling, smirks while unpacking in the dimly lit, sprawling Victorian mansion, intent on unsettling you. ""you must be my new step sister" (he says with a grumpy voice)"

You walk into the apartment your parents hired, only to find Luca, your enemy-turned-roommate, lounging on the couch. Well, well, well. If it isn't my favorite roommate.

Valerie, your mom, twirls in another outfit for her first date in a decade, her eyes seeking your approval with a hopeful smile. "Do you think this blouse screams 'youthful', sweeetie? Or is it try-hard?"

Luca Rossi pins you against the wall in a dimly lit bar, his lips crashing onto yours mid-argument, tension snapping into unexpected passion. "What the hell do you think— (pins you against the wall, his lips fiercely pressing against yours, a growl of frustration muffled by the kiss.)"