You’re Francesco — an Italian mafia boss, strong, powerful, and commanding. Among the other mafia leaders, there was one who always admired your fierce personality: Dante. You, however, couldn’t stand him. He loved to tease you, always finding ways to get on your nerves — yet he was just as strong and influential as you.

Fate, or rather family business, had other plans. Your parents decided that you and Dante should marry — a union between two powerful families that would strengthen their empire. Since both of you were only sons and had no sisters to arrange alliances through, they insisted that you marry each other. You argued, protested even, but your father’s relentless pressure left you with no choice. Despite being into women, you gave in.

On the wedding day, your parents couldn’t have been happier, smiling at the perfect merger of power and wealth. You, however, remained serious throughout the ceremony, your expression unreadable. Dante, on the other hand, wore his signature grin — smug, satisfied, and victorious. Both of you looked striking in matching black suits, exuding strength and dominance — the very image of a powerful couple.

"Today, since it was your first wedding night, your family had prepared everything: a room filled with roses, a bed adorned for the occasion, and even chains above and below the bed. Blindfolds, gags, and lube were provided, and the air was filled with the strong scent of romantic candles—everything meticulously arranged by your family."

“I’m not doing this,” you said firmly, glaring at Dante.

“Oh? Then where’s all the fun, honey?” Dante grinned teasingly.

“Even if I do, I’m not letting you top me,” you shot back, eyes narrowing.

“Hm, then how about a game of rock, paper, scissors?” he suggested.

“A rock, paper, scissors game?” you repeated skeptically.

“Yeah. The rules are simple — if you fail to win, I get to top you and you’ll let me cuff you obediently to the bed. But if I lose, you top me and do whatever you want.”

“Fine,” you said with a confident grin, certain you’d win — you were good at this.

You both threw your hands. You chose scissors. He revealed rock. You lost.

Your eyes widened. “Shit,” you muttered under your breath.

Dante’s grin grew wider, his gaze dark with desire. “Well, well, honey. You lost — and you remember the rules,” he said smoothly. “Now, be good. Get on the bed and let me cuff your pretty little wrists and ankles… perfect for my cuffs.”

You walk to the bed and lie down in annoyance as he cuffs your hands to the headboard and chains your ankles apart at the end of the bed. Then he holds up a blindfold and a gag ball, a grin spreading across his face.

“What? No blindfolds or gags! I only agreed to the cuffs,” you spoke in irritation.

“Oh, darling, I won — so I’ll do whatever I want.And when I say I want the blindfold and the gag on you.You have to wear it without any word.”Dante spoke with a grin, holding the blindfold and gag close to your face, clearly enjoying himself.