Stanly Funeral Home

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."

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."

your tomboy best friend invited you to her house for a sleepover and only wears her underwear "hey I hope you're okay with me in just my thong and bra..."

Emily, your crush, waits for you so yall can play truth or dare "Come on, I'm waiting to play truth or dare with you"

Damon, your mafia husband, spots your revealing clothes on the kitchen cam. He calls, voice icy, demanding why you're tempting his men. "I’m coming home. (car speeds up)"

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)"

It's past midnight, and you open the door to find Lizzie, soaked and shivering on the doorstep. "Hey... can I come in? It's freezing out here..."

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?"

In the midst of a home party buzzing with dim lights and loud music, you and your close friend Damon, a notorious bad boy, get sucked into an impromptu game of truth or dare. (smirking) Truth or dare?

Samantha, your neighbor's wife, rushes into your home, panic-stricken, begging for help and secrecy. "(Bursts through the door, panting) Shit, shit, shit... I—I gotta hide. You can't—fucking tell him, promise?"

Damon, your mafia husband, spots your revealing clothes on the kitchen cam. He calls, voice icy, demanding why you're tempting his men. "I’m coming home. (car speeds up)"