From the wrong side of the tracks came Rayne. Mischievous, gentle-hearted, protective. Everyone warned you to steer clear when he’s transferred to your middle school, but you saw something they didn’t. No matter what it was, Rayne was thankful for your lack of fear. He’d stood by your side since. That is, until your 21st birthday. Your parents had been pestering you all morning, marriage, grandchildren, and though your family wasn’t poor, they weren’t rich either. Your parents both listed of potential for a relationship, saying you couldn’t stick with Rayne your whole life. You had plans later with Rayne, to go to your first bar. You hadn’t known he’d shown up early to surprise you with gifts he’d spent months saving for. He’d heard what your parents said, it crushed him. He left the gifts, rang the doorbell, and ran off. He watched from a distance as you took your gifts with the radiant smile he’d worked so hard for. You texted him, “Got your gifts. Why didn’t you stay?” He replied with, “Had something urgent to take care of.” And left it at that.

The frozen lake behind your dad’s house was your favorite place to get air when everything became too much. The crisp air at sunset was the best, clarifying even. You’d never been close with your dad, so after the divorce your parents dragged you through, you’d assumed you were going with your mom. But of course it wasn’t your choice. Not wanting to uproot you in the middle of high school, your mom packed up and moved 7 states away as if running from the idea of commitment itself. You got stuck in a place you hate, with a stranger labeled as your father, alone. Every time that sickening feeling of abandonment crept in, you snuck out to the lake. New home, new routine. You didn’t know the neighbors, didn’t care to. Dad says it’s good to know who you can run to, but it sounded more like passing you off. No thanks. Didn’t matter anyway. Your only goal was a college near neither parent, already looking and planning your getaway. Job, half decent grades, and almost enough to buy your own car with your savings. But that all changed one night, when there was a stranger on your lake, carving it with his skates as if its natural beauty meant nothing. Calix Jones. Resident pretty boy, popular of course. The star hockey player at your high school. Held a hockey stick before he could walk. Bound to be scouted before junior year was up. You’d past by him at school, couldn’t have rolled your eyes any harder. You’d been in the same classes since preschool, but never cared to know him. He was a mystery you never cared to solve. But this was your lake, your safe space.

Chief was always his goal. Marriage, though part of the tradition, was not. Rhory valued strength above all else, all forms. The hunt was approaching, the village food supply was running scarce. The timing couldn’t have been worse. He was being pressured by the village elders to marry, to make a choice or it would be made for him. He may not have wanted a marriage, but the idea of the choice being taken was far worse. Rhory wanted someone who could keep up, who could challenge him, someone who didn’t need coddling or protection. Being chief was a massive responsibility, and the last thing he wanted was someone tied to him that couldn’t handle what the role required. He assured the elders he’d choose of his own will, only after the hunt, the safety of the village came first. The day of the hunt arrived. The forest edge lined with families giving well wishes to the departing men.

You’d finally been desperate enough to try a dating app. Hours turned to days of mindless swiping. Soon enough, your brother’s wedding was coming up and you didn’t have a date. Jared seemed to fit the bill, even if it didn’t pan out. Jared Thorne. Born 12/22 “Long walks on the beach aren’t my thing unless I need to think.” No children but one cat, no crazy exes, no drama. Simple enough, right? At least this was the sum of his profile. You’d matched and the conversations weren’t mind numbing. He was intelligent, challenging. He didn’t agree with society norms of Barbie’s and models. He liked messy, it was raw, real, it was trust. The way he spoke was like he’d been through this far too often and was prepared for a let down again. All his cards were on the table. He wasn’t rich, but he had a job that was stable. He also preferred nights in with a good way to entertain himself, art, movies, books… The idea of a night out was wasteful to him. “Why spend a hundred dollars on shots when you can buy a bottle for home and get the same effect in a safe environment?” The date of the wedding came, he agreed to be your date. It’s be the first time you’d meet. You sent him a picture of the invite and told him the dress code. You were shockingly nervous how this would turn out.

A series of unfortunate luck, bad deals, and horrible mistakes is what led someone who was your best friend to become a stranger. He chased power and got it. You can still remember his signature scent, the comfort he’d bring you on an off day, the way his nose crinkled when he laughed. His heart had hardened after a day that tested his every limit. His resolve was shattered and he turned his back on everyone and everything. You were left alone, suffering with his absence, and the hole in your heart felt irreparable. You had no idea where his life had led him and as the years blurred you didn’t even know if he was still alive. You’d never seen him, heard from him, and no one knew anything more than you did. The best friend you’d known so deeply had vanished like smoke between your fingers. Some nights you wake up sweat soaked from nightmares, your finger hovering over calling him for the comfort he’d once given willingly. You had no way to know if his number was still the same, or if he was still the Roman you remembered. Your choices began to become more distasteful. Late nights out partying, people you spend nights with but can’t remember a single name or detail of the night itself. Headaches and heartaches became the only thing you ever felt anymore. You couldn’t tell the difference anymore, the parties were the only thing to make you forget it all, even if only temporarily. You decided to try out the high end bar the next city over named ‘Bliss’, the one everyone spoke of, and the one every bar you’ve been to tried to mimic. The drinks are strong, the music loud, the lights blurring what everything else doesn’t. The world was fading with every second you forced yourself to let go, but before you could choose another night with a stranger… There he was, Roman. Before everything went black, in the arms of yet another stranger, you saw a flash of Roman’s familiar smirk.

Xiang was born from the consolidation of two cultures. His mother (Chinese) was forced into a marriage to his father (Italian) to seal an alliance. Two different forces, the Triads and Cosa Nostra, coming together in barbaric ways. Xiang was shielded by his mother from a life in any danger, his father deemed this as weak and cowardly. The bond and alliances had been sealed, so his father disposed of his mother forcing him into his father’s shadow. He was forced from a happy and stress free childhood to become a replica of his father’s making. He became cold and detached from the warmth he once knew, believing it was all a facade. The games his father and his men played with helpless people, toying with their life’s as if it meant nothing, he took as lessons. Slowly and over time, he learned trust meant nothing in this world. Getting the job done was the number one priority. Xiang had attempted to get close to others, to find the warmth his mother once showed him, but as his father’s design, he became colder and more task focused. Everyone he’d encountered to love was strategically placed by his father, sent to break him into the mold his father desired, the heir his father craved. With both the Traids and Cosa Nostra at his back, he’d be powerful, unstoppable. It was never what he wanted, but shown it was all that existed for him. Until you… It was an unexpected meeting. College campus. You were clearing your head, but even in your distress, you found light where all he’d see was darkness. He made that walk more of a habit. Running into you less of chance and more intentional. He kept this encounter a secret, coming to live a double life, keeping you safe. Until he couldn’t.

Duane has been your best friend all your life. He knows all your habits, the same way you know all of his. He’s reckless, stubborn, and stuck in his ways like a tree that’s taken root. Birthdays were always a big deal to him, so on his birthday, he took you to his biggest secret. He loves racing. He was street racing until someone came and offered him a job, one he couldn’t refuse, which also made it far more dangerous. From illegal racing to professional, he’s made the change, but his life is still on the line. You hated it, expressed it several times. One day, it causes an argument. “It’s my choice to race, and I’m going to. You aren’t one of my parents, and we aren’t dating. Get off my back!” He’d stormed off, you hadn’t heard from him since. He started racing in other states. Watching the interviews, he said he needed a change of pace, needed to believe in himself because no one else will. Months bled into years, he became a ghost. Every attempt to reach him failed. Until, he came back home for a race. You knew you had to see him. You got to the front door and tried to explain you’d known Duane, but it fell on deaf ears. You weren’t the first to claim that. After you emptied your wallet, you ran in.

It had been centuries, a millennium even, since your soul has been whole. In this life, you’d never believed in soulmates or soul-ties, little had you ever known that your sense of emptiness was due to your soul being fractured. After following your friends to a museum that you’d dreaded going to, you found yourself roaming through marbled statues. One caught your attention. You stared, eyes narrowed, then you heard it. “How easily you forget yourself my love. How easily you’ve forgotten me.” The voice was like a whisper, like a flame attracting you as its moth. When you came to and looked around, it was nearly time for the museum to close. How had that much time passed? The statue - it closely resembles someone, or something, you’d only seen in glimpses, in dreams. His plaque was named Azron Og'thodath, lord of the dark and mystical. The description seemed vague, but you simply brushed it off. Until it was something you could no longer do. As days went on, you began to see the statue everywhere, only, it didn’t look the same. The marble was cracked, more than it was at the museum, some of the stone was black and the gold was now crimson like blood. Then, the nightmares followed.

Alt Version Growing up, being close wasn't a choice. Friendship was a shackle, and as you both got older, it became choice. Two different towns, close but not close enough. This meant; Two different schools, Friend groups, Over all lives. Holidays and special occasions were the only times you got to see each other. At first, it was fun. Childhood years filled with magic and wonder. Teen hood, embarrassment and his want to be beside you at a constant. Then 18th birthdays and the freedom you desperately craved. Holidays became quiet and lonely, respectful pleasantries with family, both his and your own. It wasn't ideal, but he endured if it gave him the smallest chance of being beside you again. He'd left for college. New town, new friends, a fresh start away from you. One Christmas, well into your 20's, he came home the same time as you as you didn’t have much time with your career just starting out. He was successful, a business man. He'd worked tirelessly for it and achieved everything he'd wanted. The heartache you’d left behind had turned him into something cold, distant, detached. He no longer cared if you came and went, your absence created a void he couldn’t dream of filling, and for that, he was spiteful.

Growing up, being close wasn’t a choice. Friendship was a shackle, and as you both got older, it became choice. Two different towns, close but not close enough. This meant; Two different schools, Friend groups, Over all lives. Holidays and special occasions were the only times you got to see each other. At first, it was fun. Childhood years filled with magic and wonder. Teen hood, embarrassment and his want to be anywhere but beside you. Then 18th birthdays and the freedom he desperately craved. Holidays became quiet and lonely, respectful pleasantries with family, both his and your own. It wasn’t ideal, but you endured if it gave you the smallest chance of being beside him again. He’d left for college. New town, new friends, a fresh start away from you. One Christmas, well into your 20’s, he finally came home the same time as you. He was successful, a business man. He’d worked tirelessly for it and achieved everything he’d wanted. You were beyond proud and couldn’t wait to tell him that you were.

Things had seemed perfect with him, always had, no reason for suspicion. His business was still a start up with you working behind the scenes as the doting and loving spouse you were. Late night calls to other companies for projects, cross country. You snagged any opportunity you could for him. Never had you imagined, the man who clung to you without question, would take in his friend’s sibling. He looked at them with an affection you’d never received. He loved you, you knew that, but this was different. The once kind man that would cancel meetings to be by your side for a simple headache, now made excuses in the small amount of time you now spent together. You still didn’t think anything was off, until it was right in your face. Sitting at home, planning to have dinner with his parents, the very ones who hated you and thought you didn’t benefit their son, he left. Not a word as to why. But you’d heard his side of a phone call, telling the new intruder not to spend time with anyone else, not to drink, not to disappear, he was leaving. Your world shattered for a moment, then you waited for his parents, telling yourself it was probably just him keeping his promise. After dinner he finally came home, apologized, intruder in tow, a complete mess of love bites and markings. He ran you a bath to apologize, candles and snacks, but when you came out to get the clothes you forgot… everything shattered. He was tearing at the intruder’s clothes like having them was all that mattered. You choked back tears and ran back into the bathroom, ignoring the noises. Until it happened again at a work gala. He’d disappeared after the intruder was gone for too long, looking too on edge. You decided it was time to leave him and this marriage.

You’d loved Sean for as long as you could remember, you loved him when he had nothing, when he was nothing. Before the company, before the money, he was a kind and gentle person. When you’d married, he gave you an escape as a gift. A box with divorce papers already signed, a passport and ticket to go anywhere in the world, and enough money to start over. He’d said; “Should money ever change me, should my heart ever not feel like it belongs to you… give me a year, after that, leave me and save yourself any further heartbreak.” You placed the box somewhere only you’d find it and stood by him without worry. You were there for when his mother passed, when his brother went missing and came back gravely ill. You never questioned his stress when it came to work or family, you saw, you understood without need for explanation. Then came the hidden desires he thought you’d never notice. He distanced, was always on his phone, changed his passwords, slipped out of your shared home at night when he thought you were sleeping. You saw everything. Every message, every date, took note of every excuse. You took out the box you’d dreaded ever needing, but it was time. 6 months in and you began preparing. It’s now down to a week left and nothing has changed.

With princely looks and devilish charm, Nolan has never had issues claiming what he wants. The sea is his home and as Captain, his crew are his family. He needs for nothing more. You are among his crew, keeping your head down and going about your tasks to keep the ship going. You’ve admired Nolan from afar, his courage, his bravery, his quick thinking, and willingness to help those who needed it such as yourself. You were nothing more than a street urchin, a dream of adventuring beyond the port you’d called home filled you daily, but it wasn’t within your reach. Your true lineage harbors secrets, ghosts you can’t remember. Nolan has always been skeptical about you, but you work well and don’t attract unwanted attention. He lets you stay even if you unnerve him almost daily. The mere look of you never fit an urchin, never fit a pirate, but he can’t deny your call to the sea. He recognizes the call as it was once the same hope and wonder he once carried. Now at the helm of his own ship “The Trenches”, he vows to stand by his crew, not just use them for his own gain. He’s truly created a family to stand beside, having earned everyone’s respect through hard work, sympathy, and of course rum. Every port is a new opportunity. Learning of lost treasures, new adventures, and a refill of rum for the ship. At this port specifically, the southern emerald isles, you’d learned of treasure that’s long been hidden. Excited, you rush back to the ship, coordinates memorized. You tell Nolan everything.

He was your shadow, a shield you never knew you had nor needed. Growing up, any time someone spoke about you with malicious intentions, their reputation plummeted. You never admitted questions, just assumed it was karma. You never thought you’d had a secret admirer. Thatcher Torres, heir to his family business, not a man to mess with. His bad side was never something you could escape, and the number one way to get on his bad side was to mess with you in any way possible. Just the wrong glance was enough for vengeance. You’d grown up as the sole heir to your family’s business empire. No siblings. No cousins. Just you and your parents who failed to have other children after you’d been born. You’d attempted to make friends over the years, but once they’d learned of your family’s wealth, everything always turned sour. You’d been taken advantage of plenty. By high school, you’d grown tired of trying and begun hiding your wealth and status. All it took for your secret to get out, alcohol beyond your limit. You weren’t there with friends as you’d gone out of your way to avoid making any. The only person amongst your peers to care enough to see you was Thatcher Torres. He was the infamous nobody in your school. You’d never personally spoken with him, but that night you spilled your guts, both figuratively and literally. Thatcher held your hair back while everything you’d had that day came back up with a cruel vengeance. After, you cried and told him everything. He kept your secret. Little did you know, he had a secret of his own. In his own right, he’s the heir to the Torres fortune, yet no one ever pieced his existence together. His family wanted him to grow up without the pressure of family expectations, without media and press flocking to him at everything he accomplished in life. They protected him, now he protects you seeing the life you lead.

Life was once sweet for you and Jacob. High school sweethearts that survived through college torment. He’d proposed to you shortly after college, letting you in on his family secret (being rich and in the mafia, money partially dirty, partially legal.), promising to always be by your side. Being with him was like a fairytale. Nothing was too small, nothing too big. He’d spoiled you rotten. Eventually, staying home wasn’t fulfilling for you, so you began working. His friends never liked you much, they thought you dragged him and his potential down. All it took was one lie they didn’t let go and everything changed. They’d told him that your working was just a guise to see the man you’d truly loved. Jacob was no longer the sweet understanding husband. He was cruel, colder than dry ice, a dictator. It didn’t matter how hard you tried to reason with him, your words meant nothing anymore. Not understanding what had changed, as he’d never told you what his friends said, you’d let a lot slide. But when your birthday came and went, then your wedding anniversary being spent alone… you decided a divorce was best. If you’d truly made him that miserable, it was best to part. Or is it?

The handsome stranger that transferred to your school mid year. He somehow became the center of attention. Girls fawned over his looks and too good for anything demeanor, while the guys couldn’t understand how he’d made the football team on his first day. Safe to say, he’s caught everyone’s attention. Everyone but yours that is. Though he hadn’t out right made any kind of impression, good or bad. The path he was taking was enough for you to steer clear. The jock that was too cool for friends, the boy who’d stay quiet and observe as if looking for weakness. Maybe you had him wrong, but what if you didn’t? Girls tried for weeks to get his attention, fighting each other for the next chance to snag his unwilling heart. Guys tried to be his friend, inviting him to parties and just to hang out. He turned them all away without hesitation. He wasn’t unkind, but he certainly showed no gentle nature residing within him. He was a mystery.

Any word that would describe what causes fear, was the pure embodiment of Andrew Burke. The mere mention of Andrew could silence rooms. Upon your first encounter, going over the documents, signing and situating the legalities behind your recent engagement, he was cold, quiet, and calculating. The only one in the room besides you and Andrew, was the lawyer handling your documents. You were made aware of his position in the mafia’s underworld and the business side of things. You’d have access to it all should you need to, but your title won’t match his as he has no need for a gold digger or someone whose status hungry to climb the ladder. She was practically tripping over herself to get his attention. The more desperate and obvious it became, you couldn’t help but laugh at her attempts. This caught Andrew’s attention. For the rest of the meeting, her eyes were on him, while his eyes were on you. Hearing you laugh softened something in the man people feared like a monster. That day forward, he set dinners and lunches to purposely spend more time with you. He claimed it was to get to know the person he’d be spending his life with. The dates were a guise for him to know more about you, all your favorite things, what you dislike most in the world, traumas, everything. You were honest, you told him what he asked for. Over the time that’s been spent together, you saw no sign of the monster you were told he was. Sure he had attitude, mostly directed at those around him, but he wasn’t like that with you. He was sweet, like a teddy bear. He updated the contract after he felt he could trust you, it was decided you’d live with him during the engagement to help the adjustment.

Raised in the high society of the underworld, you were no stranger to arrangements, meetings of power, and negotiation. The elder child of your family, and rightful heir to the empire that’s been passed down generations, you’re the first in line to form an alliance through marriage. Your arrangement is to Harrison Delgado, a man feared in his own right, flawed for sure, but makes up for it with his charm. You hadn’t fallen for his tricks, not the flowers, not the notes. But why? The gifts sent were not things you’d typically cherish. The flowers were tiger lilies, you sisters favorite. Though who doesn’t like a thoughtful handwritten letters, your preference was art, your sister was the one to swoon for letters of affection. Harrison had done his homework, but on the wrong person. Harrison talks smooth, walks as if he owns the world, he calculates every decision, and best of all… he has a temperament like no other. Something about your sister, younger, comes across as innocent, the doe eyes she’s practiced since birth, everyone falls for it. She breaks something, it’s your fault somehow. She gets hurt, you caused it. A grade slips, you didn’t help her enough. Everything she does reflects you, even without a direct connection. You were used to it from your family, constantly coming to her defense, but now the man you’re set to marry has his gaze on her and she’s returning it. You always knew something was off about the way she looked at him. Like he was a prize to be won. Your father however, wanting to appease his younger daughter, also wanted to keep her safe. When she said she wanted the engagement for herself, your father agreed with your refusal to hand it over. She was not happy, neither was Harrison. The arrangement called for a change. You were now to live with Harrison until the wedding, before starting your lives together, in hopes to bridge a connection.

Asher had been your best friend since you were children. His family loved the two of you together, always wishing you’d both end up together. You’d never known about what his family did for work, you just knew it was better not to ask. As you both got through high school, the idea didn’t seem too far fetched to you. You’d fallen for him. College’s fast paced environment pushed you two apart but he still made the effort to stay connected, even if it was just a simple text. Soon, his family approached you about an arrangement. They’d seen how you both were around one another, they knew how you felt for their son. They said you were good for him and not just as a safe option. You’d asked how he felt about it, as you didn’t want to disrupt his life, and they assured you he’d be over the moon… After all, you’d been best friends since diapers. With his families approval, you’d begun planning. Everything was perfect… Until the day before the wedding when you went to check final details.

Your marriage, though set in stone, has not just rules in place from the contract, but boundaries set by Jasper himself. No touching No intimacy No conversation He wants you to be a ghost, nonexistent. He’d sworn to you plain as day that his heart would never be yours, it would always belong to his first love, she’d always come first. He didn’t lie. You moved in, settling into a guest room. She didn’t live in the penthouse, but she came by so frequently she may as well have. Her perfume lingered everywhere, including on Jasper. Her favorite foods stocked the kitchen, leaving you little space. It was made clear you were unwanted, but your being there was necessary. Your marriage gave Jasper his inheritance, but your marriage also left you shackled to a man with no room in his heart for you. He’d get sick, you’d tend to him. His first love hurt him, you’d be his shoulder. You were always there, steady, constant, forgiving… But what would you do the day she comes over to tell him she’s pregnant?

You’d both met in high school, you were the only person out of the entire student body to not judge him for his family or his background. You chose kindness above all else. Close to graduation, after 4 years of friendship, he’d made you a promise under your favorite tree in the town square. He would always stand by you, protect you, you were precious to him. He proposed directly after graduation. The next five years filled with happiness and promises kept. His family legacy caused pressure, but you remained his constant, his safe space. Soon after the 5 years mark, you had been approached by one of his business partners. Thinking nothing of it you greeted them warmly, but the encounter turned, a threat against his life, a want to overthrow him and his family’s name. The cost to protect him was your relationship, your marriage. You had to leave, they wanted destruction. You moved, quietly. A small town, smaller than where you’d met. Everyone knew each other. It was quiet and lonely, but this was your only choice to protect the man you loved. 2 years later, you’d never expected him to find you. All his love and care toward you turned ice. The town burned as he drew you out. Screams from the people you’d come to know, some dead, others dying. Then came his final promise…

You had always thought life was perfect, until you discovered it wasn’t what you had thought at all. You met Hunter while attending the same college, he was everything you admired in a man. He was charming, kind, caring, and over all concerned for those he’d cared about. On a school trip, there was an accident that left you blind. The chance of recovery was minimal, especially without treatment. Hunter decided to vow his life to care for you as your husband, given you saved his life. He felt it was only right to repay you in such a way. Things were perfect. He took you for treatments and stood by your side, he cooked for you, hired staff to clean and care for you when he wasn’t around. At first you paid no mind to the emergencies at work, but when they became more frequent, when it took longer to come home… you knew something was wrong. You decided to double down on treatment, and eventually they worked. You could finally see again after 5 years without sight. But you didn’t tell Hunter, and to your surprise, he’d been seeing someone behind your back. Your best friend. They’d always hid it with the guise of your friend coming to check on you. You never would’ve guessed that this was the reason your husband was so distant. When you come back, sight returned. You see them in the bed you share with your husband, the two people you trusted most in the world. They haven’t seen you yet. Hunter was always the doting husband, this wasn’t the man you thought you knew.

They say the day he was born there was an earthquake so strong the Earth split open and he was born from Hell itself. Nicknamed ‘Lucifer’ for his hellish charm and his wicked ways, Calvin paved his own way and carved a path within his family’s claim to the mafia world, one of intent far more wicked than they had ever imagined. Calvin was invincible in his own eyes. He’d built a kingdom so impenetrable, his enemies couldn’t hold a candle to what he’d done. His father both impressed and disappointed, set an arrangement for him, to slow his rebellion. He was far less happy than he’d ever been but he agreed to the terms. He’d play house in front of his family, play the doting househusband, but behind closed doors he’d have his fun. No one and nothing would get in his way. A month into the marriage, he’d bring all sorts of mistresses home. He had no care or concern for this marriage, it was just a game to him. He’d come home at all hours of the night, no explanation, no reasoning.

Your life was always simplistic. Chores, homework, take care of mom. Your mother had been sick for the past few years, but lately it had taken a turn for terminal. Your father’s stance in the mafia world was the bottom of the totem pole and he couldn’t do much to help her. You took a few jobs to make ends meet and pay bills for her medical treatment when you could, but it never seemed like enough. Your mother raised you to help the family when you could always, but never at the expense of losing yourself. To you, your mother had been your everything, she’d made you who you were despite the constant mistreatment she’d faced everyday. She believed no matter how bitter the world was, a little sugar went a long way. Your father had come to you one day with a proposal, literally. A top tier family, power, money, you name it, all they had asked was her hand. The only question you’d asked was; would it save your mother’s life? You agreed and signed everything that was requested, but when your mother collapsed and time began to tick like a bomb strapped to your chest, your reasoning flew out of the window. You barged into your betroth’s home and straight into his father’s office, you demanded to push up the wedding date as the money was no necessity. Little had you expected your fiancé to be listening just outside the door. He walked in accusing you of being a gold digger. He grabbed your arm, forcing you into his car, and took you to city hall, signing and binding you to each other instantly. No fancy wedding, no fancy clothes, no vows. He gave you a ring no less. After everything was signed and the bank accounts were merged you bolted without asking questions or having exchanged a single word. You headed straight for the hospital, straight to your mother’s side. You paid her bills and waited anxiously as they took her for surgery.

His life was wrapped in charm and whimsy, the elegance of chandeliers and balls, while yours was part time jobs making minimum wages and barely making ends meet. Somehow god made a mockery of you both, and you were best friends, each other’s safe haven. His family treated you as their own, trusting you with their secrets (They weren’t just in the mafia, they are the mafia.) They let you come over and play Cinderella, attending balls and fitting into their world for a night. Vincent was a different person during the mafia side of things, but alone, you gave him the freedom to be him, the casual goofball who loved all things life. Behind the gilded doors, you never knew the storm brewing, the family feud, he kept you from it, safe. He pleaded with his parents, you were it for him, he didn’t need an arrangement. They already trusted you, you knew their secret and kept it too. His parents wouldn’t budge, you didn’t belong in this world, protecting their secret or not. It was already set. When he was to turn 24 he was to be married to an ally, to their heir. So for the next 5 years, he smiled even when it hurt, loved you in silence, and took advantage of every last second he had until the last grain of sand in the hour glass fell.

Seated by the roaring fireplace, a man cloaked in shadow draws you in with his enigmatic presence. His black attire, stark against the warm glow of the flames, hints at a life woven with secrets and shadows. As you meet his gaze, a chill runs down your spine—this is no ordinary man. Behind his composed exterior lies a labyrinth of hidden truths, a past intertwined with the extraordinary. His deep, resonant voice breaks the silence, offering you a choice: to step into his world, where reality blurs with the surreal, and every revelation carries the weight of destiny. Will you unravel the enigma that is this mysterious stranger, or will you be consumed by the allure of the unknown?

Griffin was no prize husband. You’d always known you’d belong to him one day, never a matter of if but when. His heart would never belong truly to you, not as long as she was in the picture, his childhood sweetheart Lillian. As long as she fluttered her eyelashes or pout and pleaded, he would forever be wrapped around her finger. What she said goes even if you were his partner that would never matter to her, and to him it was merely an arrangement. So long as you played nice in front of his family and your role was fulfilled and caused no trouble with Lillian then everything was right as rain. One misstep and he’d make your life hell. Children was part of the deal, no matter how they came. It infuriated Lillian to no end, to her Griffin was hers and he assured her he is but she wasn’t having it. Lillian became even more a menace than before, she made you a villain playing the victim at every turn. She’d say you’d pushed her into things, made her food she couldn’t eat, hit her, etc. She made you a monster but none of it was true, but it didn’t matter, Griffin had enough and didn’t care for your side.

Adriano wasn’t one to talk unless necessary, he planned, he studied. He was the definition of the calm before the storm. He wasn’t kind or gentle, nor was he rough or stern, he just was. His quiet, calm, and calculating demeanor made him perfect to lead his family. He negotiated peace and allegiance, talked his way through war to avoid bloodshed, he made his family go from middle of the board to top of the totem pole. No one dared to blink without the Amato family’s permission. As the time passed, his mother worried he’d never look for love so she went to his father to push the matter. His father asked but didn’t push, his mother’s insistence forced an arrangement. The wedding came and went. Prenup signed and sealed, now safely tucked away in his office and brought out when he feels you need to be reminded of who you are to him. A piece of paper brought in to ease his mother’s worries. In his mind you’re here to; play dress up, wring his cards of their funds, do as you so please do long as you play the role of the doting partner in front of his mother. What your husband is unaware of, you know his mother. She’s known you for your entire life, since you were no older than 3 years old. Your mothers were friends since high school. She knows you’d never wish her son harm, quite the opposite in fact. It’s why she chose you.

Being married to Lucien was warmer than expected. Kind hugs and open conversation, he never kept secrets, never hid anything. Every room in the house was open to you, you were welcome to explore and ask any questions your heart desired. Yet even with his unguarded nature, his gentle touch, something always seemed to trouble him Late nights when he thought you were asleep, he’d stay awake lost in his thoughts, simmering on the fine line between just and unjust. His job in the mafia under his father’s command and soon taking the reign himself, it was stressful, it ate away at the man he was, the man he could be, yearned to be. When his father calls upon him, the kind and nurturing man you’ve come to be fond of morphs into this cold unfeeling monster with a one track mind for the mission he was force fed. It’s been 2 years since the wedding and everyday is no easier than the last. The jobs get harder, wounds get deeper, but his touch remains the same. The man beneath the suit and luxury doesn’t deserve the pain and suffering he’s forced to endure but his father works him to the bone like a farm animal without concern for the safety of his own child. As unfair as it is, as a partner in this lifestyle, speaking up isn’t part of your role. Cooking and maintaining the home and overall health of your husband is your only job, the only way to keep your status. But at what cost?

Having been married for a few months now. You knew very little of your husband. He kept his life very separate to yours and called it safety. You never went out, not being allowed. Doors were often locked, yet shouting was often heard. Your home was a shroud of mystery but one you couldn’t solve. Your family shipped you off and sold you, first chance they got. Being the elder daughter, the least favorite, it was an easy choice. To you it didn’t matter, most of your life was spent alone and this was no different. Your wedding was quick, no vows, no party, no witnesses. Just a piece of paper and a new last name with a diamond on your finger that tied you to someone who hardly spared you a second glance. Andrew was almost a ghost always being heard but never seen. You almost convinced yourself he just didn’t exist. You could feel him watching you at random moments. Cleaning, cooking, sometimes at random moments reading or trying to bathe. But he wasn’t a random creep, he was your husband. Though unsettling, as the time went by you got used to the feeling and it became comforting to know he watched. At least he cared enough to check you were still around. Eventually the long halls and endless amounts of locked rooms felt more and more confined. You wanted to explore, to leave even just for an hour. To go to a bookstore, as you’d read everything in the library here. To go to a cafe and try something you hadn’t tasted, or even just a grocery store and do something as mundane as food shopping to stock the fridge. One day your wishes had been granted. The front door was unlocked and unnoticed. Without hesitation, stupid or brave you would debate later, you put on shoes and ran. You found a busy street with all the stores you could dream of. Have fun.

Nathaniel was someone you were promised to the day you were born. A debt sealed in power and prestige. Your father made sure you were ready, your mother teaching you to be a proper partner by the time you could talk. You helped cook every meal, help clean every room, iron every piece of clothing. The worst of it? If anything was wrong, out of place, or just deemed necessary. The punishment befitting your mother befit you as well. You had asked before of what your husband would be like, but you were only ever met with “You’ll find out soon enough.” Or “You’ll be lucky if you survive to see your wedding with behavior like this.” It was pure mental torment. The only solace you ever found were in the pages of books. Escapism at its finest. The moment your father found out about your little distraction, he burned every book in the house. You had tried to run. Your punishment for that was a whipping so bad you had trouble doing your chores for the following month. Every movement was like cutting strings over shards of glass. Finally, the day of your wedding. The day you’d leave behind your father and the torture you’ve endured since the day you took your first breath. You knew nothing of your husband, just that he was involved in the mafia. That didn’t scare you as much as it should. You just prayed for freedom from the hellscape you’ve lived in. As the day went on, no one knew where he was. Cold feet maybe? Eventually a proxy was sent, leaving you embarrassed at the alter. Either way, the paper was signed and you were free of your father. You gladly followed your escort to the car that awaited and went to your new home.

Damien Russo. A name wrapped in mysterious energy but one that gives off a dark aura. His family was notorious in the underworld for the things they had hand in, which was easier to tell you what they didn’t do. They DON’T deal in the skin trade, never liking the idea that one of their own could be sold off like cattle for mere pennies. To them, every life was priceless. All you ever needed to know was what your grandmother called him ‘el diablo encarnado’ she was never fond of the arrangement your parents made for you and no one ever told you much about him, not that you asked either. The wedding day came in a blur but he didn’t seem happy about this in the slightest, he didn’t even try to hide it. Seeing him was everything you’d feared and nothing you’d hoped for. He was taller, much taller. Every word was spoken with venom as if to cut you down before you could dream. He made it clear, this was a contract and that was all. No room for error or misunderstanding. You were now left behind by your family, just weeks after your grandmothers passing. Standing in a home foreign with no refuge and shackled to a man with not a single loving bone in his body.

Life was normal, ordinary, until it wasn’t. Unlike most, your marriage wasn’t arranged, there were no secrets, everything was in the open. And you liked it that way. It gave you a sense of peace to know the monsters in the closet were exactly that. You knew when to scream and when to run, because in this world… Even the puppies are disguises. Trust isn’t easy and talk is cheap, at least that’s what your husband tells you. Anyone who has a sharp enough tongue can talk themselves out of anything, even death. It just so happens you are his snake born with the silver tongue. You’ve gone from being his world, to being his shield. Allow me to back step a moment… You were having the worst day, a true low for the life you’ve had. An average college student now warned they’re failing, your morning coffee came out more like mud, your parents are on the outs while your sister is so close to high school graduation (not that they had a single hand in raising her themselves), tuition is too high for another semester. It’s all too much and you’re beginning to drown. Friends? They’re all too busy with their lives to notice. Deciding that as a 22 year old adult with your own hard earned money, you were gonna drink your sorrows away for one night. That’s where you met Clinton. He saved you from you. He showed you there was more to you than horrible friends and parents that don’t know accountability. Enjoying his company, you continued seeing him and things flourished. He didn’t hide who he was from you, his job, nothing was off limits. He gave you the transparency no one ever did. Things were amazing in the beginning, love was something you finally felt, but over time it began to feel like it came with a price tag. The negotiator he needed but then everything else fell short. How do you tell a mafia boss of his caliber that he isn’t enough anymore? That he’s wrong? That he’s messed up? Can you talk him down? Will you walk away?

Luka Artur Antonovich A man forged in fire and death. A man feared at mere mention. The air he breathes is warning to those around him that yours could be your last. He doesn’t give second chances, first ones don’t come without cost. He lost everything he once cared for as a child. His mother and younger brother swallowed by fire during a business dinner at their home. He attempted to save them thus causing the scars that now adorn his face. His father never much cared for him and after the accident he remolded him in his image. Both having lost what they cared for most, it was a trauma bond unlike any other. An arrangement made. A marriage between two prominent families. A husband by name, on paper, but not by heart. Despite the distance even with the physical close proximity, if something were to happen to you, the world would suffer the consequences. Cherished in secret, loved in silence. You try and try and never to any avail, he does nothing but push you away. Feeling dismissed, small, and unappreciated… You’ve had enough and stopped trying. Lying in bed all day, hardly leaving your room unless for a snack or to get another book. His concern is lackluster at best if there at all.

Best friends since… Well who could keep count? Inseparable, connected at the hip, practically fate. While your heart soared for him, he was a bit blind. Being children you always knew, his phases were however normal. Girls having cooties, to out right dating others because you were always there and his exact opposite. What he called reliable and a constant, you called your other half, your missing piece. High school was coming to an end, knowing he had a girlfriend killed you when you first found out. You know your feelings aren’t going to go away, so tonight, prom, a week before graduation and the pull of becoming adults… It’s now or never, him being in a relationship or not.