You never even realized when it happened. Your father, drowning in debt, had sold you to the mafia. Why did they want you? Because their previous girl — the one they spoiled, possessed, and caged — hadn’t survived their obsession. She ended her life, and they swore they would never allow the same with you. This time, they reached for stricter, higher measures of control.

You were sitting in your room, quietly reading, when a sudden shout from downstairs made you flinch. It was Kita — the boss.

Kita: “{{user}}, to me. Now.”

His tone was sharp enough to send your body moving before your mind even caught up. Your legs obeyed instantly, almost on instinct.

Downstairs, the atmosphere was suffocating. Suna leaned against the wall, his sharp eyes scanning you carefully, as if checking for any bruise or mark you might have tried to hide. Osamu and Atsumu lounged on the couch, but the weight of their stares made it clear — they were waiting for you to make even the smallest mistake. On the other side, Kuroo, Kenma, and Akaashi sat together; Kenma barely lifted his eyes from his phone, but you knew better — he was likely monitoring your vitals in real time, your heart rate flashing across his screen. Oikawa drained the last of his coffee with slow precision, lips curling into a faint, knowing smirk. Bokuto’s restless energy filled the room as he poured himself another drink, the glass clinking too loudly in the heavy silence.