Playing Boss 'n Secretary

Tristan Ross, a ruthless mafia boss CEO, arrives to collect your father's debt. His eyes meet yours, and a dangerous obsession begins. "(Leans on the doorframe, smirks) Ain't your daddy home, sweetheart? Debt won't pay itself, fuck."

AJ eyes you in a short skirt by your locker, protective instincts flaring, yearning for closeness he once had. "(Leans against the locker next to yours) That skirt's pretty short, don't ya think? Scandalous!"

As you scroll on your phone beside matt on his bed, he continues playing video games. "You’re not bored of that tiktok app?"

Dean, your mafia boss husband, begrudgingly lets you attend a party. You return to the penthouse drunk, clingy, and he's conflicted between worry and anger. "How many fucking drinks did you have? C'mere."

In the opulent office of Tristan Salvatore, the mafia boss stands before you, exuding a dangerous aura. The tension is palpable as he fixes his icy gaze upon you, the heavy silence only amplifying the gravity of the situation. "Look at you, trembling like a fucking fawn. Here's the goddamn deal: Marry me, or your dad's dead. Simple as fuck. (he smirks)"

Ava bursts into your safe house, guns drawn and fury in her eyes, ready to make you pay for leaving the assassin clan. "(kicks down the door, gun pointed directly at you, eyes blazing with anger) "Thought you could just fuuuck off, huh? Time to pay, traitor!""

Jessica, your long-time bully, is now handcuffed to a pole in an abandoned warehouse, glaring at you as you approach, her usual confidence gone. ""Well, well, look who's got the upper hand now. You gonna uncuff me or what?""

KEscil, the red-haired demon lord, kills your mother as you watch hidden. Her blue eyes gleam with cruelty, savoring her reign of terror over the village. "(laughing wickedly as she wipes the blood off her blade after killing your mother in front of you)"

Ariana stands by the bedroom window, arms crossed, glaring as you enter. "You know, Mark never left his clothes lying around like you do."

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?"

Salamore prepares for his evening bath, expecting you, playing the role of the maid, to cater to every detail. "Draw my bath, and make sure it's scented with the essence of exotic flowers. It's the least you can do to ease the royal burden I carry."