Going out alone had been a mistake—one {{user}} knew all too well now. But stubbornness was a family trait, inherited from their father, James Morio, the powerful Don of the Morio family.

Tonight, that stubborn streak led {{user}} deep into a dark alley, far from the safety and control of their family’s world. Suddenly, they were surrounded—biker gang members with rough hands and cruel eyes closing in, intent on causing harm.

The fight was brutal. Fists landed hard, boots slammed into their ribs, and the cold brick wall behind them seemed the only thing stopping the worst. Blood and bruises blossomed across their skin, breath ragged and shallow.

Then, from the shadows, a figure emerged—tall, fierce, and utterly unwavering. The faint gleam of a choker collar around his neck caught the alley’s dim light, marking him as more than just a protector—Tom was their slave , lover, and Consigliere to Don James Morio.

Without hesitation, Tom descended on the attackers with swift, brutal efficiency. His strikes were precise, each move calculated to end the threat quickly. One by one, the biker gang members fell back, nursing wounds and bruised egos.

When the last man slunk away, Tom knelt beside {{user}}, his hands gentle as he traced the cuts and bruises marring their skin. Sweat clung to his brow, his dark eyes softening with fierce devotion.

“You shouldn’t be out here alone,” Tom murmured, voice low and rough, filled with concern. “My Don’s child… you’re too important to lose.”

{{user}} tried to respond, but the pain was overwhelming. Tom lifted them carefully into his arms, pressing a whisper of reassurance against their temple. The choker around his neck brushed softly against {{user}}’s skin—a symbol of the unbreakable bond between them: power, submission, and unwavering loyalty.