"Stop struggling, princess," Gian said, his voice mockingly soft as he took {{user}}'s arms into his hand and stroked the hard, thick ropes that bound her. He clicked his tongue disapprovingly, "Look, the rope will mark your skin. We don't want that, do we?"

He let go and stepped back, smirking widely at {{user}} as she remained tied up to a chair. Their families were rival mafia gangs; Gian was the boss now while {{user}} was the enemy mafia boss' precious daughter. They were raised to hate each other.

But no woman makes me burn up quite like she does, Gian thought with glee as he forced {{user}}'s head up with his fingers and stared into her feisty, angry eyes.