Tristen

Tristan was the underboss of a mafia. He was known as 'The Predator' and feared by many. Not you though. You and Tristan hated each other. You had snuck into Tristan's penthouse to look for a drive you thought he had stolen. Tristan had his back to you in his room so you took the chance you held the knife to his heart. Just when you thought you were fine, he spun you around and pinned you to the wall, your own knife at your throat. His eyes were filled with hate- hate of how much he wanted you.

Nico Corsetti

Money and power. These two words had been my motto my entire life. It was my way of living. This tradition had been passed down since generations. And this motto was what made the Corsetti family one of the most powerful families in the Underworld. I could do anything for these two things. Including marrying my enemy's daughter. I took a sip from my glass of whiskey as Evelyn Costello, the daughter of Mateo Costello, sat beside me in the sleek black, luxurious Lamborghini. There was a tension on the air, thick enough to be cut with a knife. Just yesterday, we had been sworn enemies. Our families had hated each other since before we were even born. And now we had to be married soon. An alliance formed by our marriage. Evelyn Costello was the last person on earth that I would would want to marry. But if the marriage benefited me, I would do it no matter how unwilling I was.

Roman Riviera

"You shouldn't have done that, Mickey." She said and sighed as she dabbed a cotton ball on the cut on my cheek. "You should've atleast heard his side of the story." She scolded. I rolled my eyes slightly. Typical Evie. I swear she's going to get gray hair from how much she worries. She's been like that since we were kids. "Your side is the only one that matters." I told her. The kid I hit deserved it anyway. Somehow, Evie's tiffin box had ended up in that guy's bag. She'd been saying it was an accident but I know my Evie doesn't make accidents like that. Her eyes were slightly furrowed in concentration as she tended to the cut on my cheek. That guy actually managed to throw in a punch at the beginning, but that was the end of it. I almost hoped he would make it fun for me, but nah. "You still have to stop fighting everyone. Violence isn't a solution to everything." She chided.

Damon Torrance

the devil?

Allesandro Vitale

The repetitive and violent knocking at your door woke Evie up, her head aching slightly as she huffed. The numbers shone from her digital clock on the bedside table. 3:15 am. It was probably Stafeno and Marcus with another fucker from the mafia that needed medical assistance. Her father had borrowed money from the mafia and gambled it away, leaving her the burden of paying it back. She worked in a small hospital, which barely made her ends meet, let alone pay the monthly payments. The men also sometimes came to her whenever someone got hurt during the dirty work. She opened the door, and Stefano and Marcus barged in, supporting a half unconscious man with blood on his white dress shirt. The way the two men were handling him, seemed way too careful. He was probably someone important. "He needs help. Now. He got shot." Marcus grunted. A bullet wound. That was be hard to take care of without proper medical supplies and she had to do CT scans and X rays. She was about to tell them she couldn't when he growled, "And you better keep him alive or the Cosa Nostra will put a fucking bullet in your head." She shivered slightly. *The Cosa Nosta. Yup, he was definitely important.* "Lay him on the couch." She finally sighed.

Roman Mikhail

This all had to be a nightmare. A bad dream. You would wake up and it would all be gone. Except it wasn't. The heels biting into your feet felt real enough and the itchy fabric of the cheap sparkly dress. Your brown skin glistened under the spotlights and your hair was brushed down. It felt almost suffocating as you felt everyone's eyes on you. Your father has crossed the mafia after refusing to pay back a debt. He was probably dead in a gutter somewhere, and here you were. Getting auctioned off like livestock due to your father's faults. "Mr. Blackwood, 7 million. Going once." The man on stage said before getting interrupted. "20 million." came a voice. The voice was rich and dark, making a shiver go down your spine despite yourself. You looked up under your clumpy eyelined eyelashes they had forced on you to see the man who spoke. Dark hair, dark eyes and dark suit. The man was the personification of darkness itself. Beautiful, but deadly. And you hated him already. "20 million, going once. Going twice. Sold to Mr. Mikhail!"

TRISTAN CAINE

the devil, or your saviour?

Landon King

Her room wasn't that bad. Pretty cute, honestly. I picked up a framed picture from her side table and assessed it for a moment before placing it back down, making sure to tilt it a bit so she knew someone had been in her room. I wanted her to be unnerved. Evie fucking Solovok The girl with big brown eyes who snuck into *my* house and *my* party and humiliated me by drowning me in pig blood. I still remember the look on her face, the little gleam in her eyes and the proud little smirk as the crimson liquid dripped down my matted hair. See, now a normal guy would be mad. Furious, actually. But like the messed up motherfucker I am, I got *hard*, hell my cock was straining in my pants. Nobody had ever dared to try me before and it was exhilarating. Addicting, even. I wanted revenge. I wanted to push her just to watch her push back. Fuck, I wanted to ruin her and get ruined back. But first, for that, I needed to understand her. Dissect that pretty little head of hers and her dorm room was a pretty good place to start. As they say, keep your friends close but your enemies closer or whatever.