Author's pov

Taehyung stepped out of the café, a rare smile playing on his lips. The encounter with the bold barista had left him feeling a strange mix of amusement and intrigue. His smile faltered, however, when his friend Jimin approached, a curious look on his face.

"What's got you smiling like that?" Jimin asked, his tone teasing.

Taehyung glanced back at the café, just in time to see the girl step outside with a black garbage bag. His eyes lingered on her, replaying their intense exchange. Jimin followed his gaze and smirked, catching on quickly.

"New chick?" Jimin suggested, his voice dripping with insinuation.

A low growl escaped Taehyung's throat, and he ordered the driver to start driving. As the car pulled away, he couldn't stop thinking about her. No one had ever dared to look him in the eyes the way she did, let alone flirt with him so brazenly.

His lips curled into a dark smile as he heard her voice echoing in his mind: "Choke me, Daddy." The audacity of her words, the fearlessness in her gaze—it was unlike anything he had ever encountered.

He leaned back in his seat, lost in thought. That girl had sparked something within him, a curiosity and a hunger he hadn’t felt in a long time. Taehyung knew he wouldn’t be able to forget her easily.

Taehyung's pov

As the car navigated the bustling city streets, my mind kept drifting back to her. She wasn’t the type of woman who typically caught my eye, but there was something about her that I couldn't shake. Her face was round and beautiful, dotted with moles that seemed to highlight her features perfectly. Her eyes, those eyes were the most striking of all. They were large and expressive, a mesmerizing shade of deep brown that seemed to sparkle with an inner light. When she smiled, they crinkled at the corners, lighting up with a warmth and sincerity that tugged at something deep inside me.

A shudder passed through me as I recalled her body. She wasn’t slim and slender like the women I  usually surrounded  with, she was a bit chubby, her curves filling out her clothes in a way that was impossible to ignore. Her shirt strained to contain her ample chest, the fabric clinging to her skin and leaving little to the imagination. The skirt she wore was tight, accentuating her hips and thighs, hinting at the fullness beneath. Every move she made seemed to highlight her voluptuous figure, making my pulse quicken.

“Damn,” I muttered under my breath, shaking my head as if to clear the image from my mind. But it was no use. She had gotten under my skin.

Jimin, noticing my distraction, smirked. “Still thinking about her, huh?”

I shot him a glare but didn’t respond immediately. My mind was too tangled up with the memory of her boldness, the way she had looked me straight in the eye and flirted with me. “Choke me, Daddy.” Her voice echoed in my mind, a daring challenge that sent a thrill through me.

“No one’s ever had the balls to talk to me like that,” I finally said, almost to myself. My lips curled into a dark smile as I replayed the encounter in my mind. The audacity, the fearlessness—it was intoxicating.

Jimin chuckled. “She must’ve made quite the impression. What are you going to do about it?”

My smile widened, a predatory glint in my eyes. “Oh, I’ll be seeing her again. She won’t get away that easily.”

The car pulled to a stop, but I barely noticed. My thoughts were consumed by the image of her.

I already had my men get her information. No one talked to me like that. If anyone did, they either needed to say goodbye to this earth or find themselves on their knees begging for mercy. But for this girl, I had something different in mind. I envisioned her bent over my lap, spanking that ass until the sass was choked out of her. Anyone who dared to raise their voice in front of me needed to be put in their place, and this girl was no exception.

Her name was Isabel—no last name. She was an orphan, working two jobs to feed herself and someone she cared for deeply. That piece of information intrigued me even more. There was a vulnerability there, a weakness I could exploit. Yet, the way she had looked at me, unflinching and bold, spoke of a hidden strength that demanded to be tamed.

The image of her, with her round face and those expressive eyes, stayed with me. Her eyes sparkled with a mix of fearlessness and warmth that drew me in. She was a puzzle, one that I was determined to solve. Her body, so different from the women I was used to, had a raw, sensual allure that called to me.

My thoughts darkened as I considered how I would bend her to my will. She would learn her place, not through fear of death, but through submission to me. I would make sure of that. The thrill of the challenge sent a shiver of anticipation through me. Isabel would soon learn that defying me came with a price.

I leaned back in my seat, a dark smile playing on my lips. "Isabel," I whispered to myself, savoring the name. She had no idea what was coming for her, but she would soon find out.

Isabel's pov

In the dimly lit cafe, where shadows wove between the flickering lights, I caught sight of him again, his presence a haunting melody in the silence. The tall, enigmatic figure leaned against the wall, his dark eyes scanning the room with an intensity that sent shivers down my spine. Each time our gazes locked, it felt like a silent conversation, bare with unspoken promises and veiled threats.

Tonight, his gaze lingered longer than usual, and a shiver of anticipation ran through me, the warmth of his doing little to stave off the chill that his presence invoked. My heart raced with a mix of curiosity and caution, for though he remained an enigma, I sensed a dangerous allure in every movement he made.

He approached with a grace that seemed both deliberate and effortless. His eyes, pools of shadowed mystery, never left mine. “You seem to be waiting for someone,” he said, his voice a velvet caress against the backdrop of muted conversation.

I smiled, allowing my lips to curve in a way that I hoped was both inviting and challenging. “Perhaps I am. Or perhaps I’m just enjoying the company of an intriguing stranger.”

He leaned closer, his breath warm against my ear, a whisper of danger mingled with seduction. “Intriguing, am I? And what makes you think so?”

I met his gaze with a defiant glint in my eyes. “It’s the way you carry yourself. There’s something... dangerous about you. And in a world so predictable, a little danger can be quite... appealing.”

His smile was a slow, dangerous curve. “Danger, you say? You tread on thin ice, cub. Sometimes, the thrill of the unknown can lead to unforeseen consequences.”

A thrill of excitement and fear danced in my chest. “Perhaps I’m willing to take that risk,” I murmured, feeling the weight of his scrutiny like a tangible thing. “After all, a little adventure never hurt anyone.”

His eyes darkened, and the silence between us crackled with unspoken promises. “Adventure,” he echoed softly.

As he turned away, leaving me in a haze of anticipation and uncertainty, I knew that whatever path lay ahead, it would be anything but ordinary.

Taehyung's pov

The next few weeks I found me visiting the cafe almost daily. It was a break in my routine, a detour from the darkness that usually consumed my life. But she was worth it. Every time I stepped through those doors, Isabel's face would light up with a smile that was both innocent and mischievous. Her eyes, those expressive eyes, always seemed to sparkle a little brighter when she saw me.

She would happily flirt with me, her words bold and teasing. "I bet you're a secret Mafia boss, obsessed with me," she'd say, her voice dripping with playful accusation. It made me smirk every time. She had no idea how close to the truth she was, yet I let her believe it was all a game.

I wasn't in love with her. I wasn't obsessed. But there was something about her that made me want to taste her, to possess her, even if just for a moment. She didn’t know my name, and I kept it that way. Instead, she called me Daddy, a title I had insisted on. It thrilled me every time she used it, a subtle reminder of the power dynamics at play.

One day, she leaned across the counter, her eyes twinkling with excitement. "You know, I love those Mafia books. I always imagine you as the mysterious Mafia man who comes to sweep me off my feet."

I chuckled darkly, my gaze locking onto hers. "Is that so?" I asked, my voice low and teasing.

She nodded enthusiastically. "Absolutely. You have that dangerous aura about you. It's thrilling."

If only she knew. The danger she sensed was real, and the thrill she felt was a mere shadow of what I could bring into her life. But for now, I let her play her little games, enjoying the way she danced on the edge of danger without ever truly understanding it.

"Be careful what you wish for, Cub," I murmured, leaning in close. "You might just get it."

“Why do you call me cub?” she asked, her tone playful yet sincere, like she genuinely wanted to know.

She had this way of looking at me,straight into my eyes, like she wasn’t afraid of what she might find there. It was rare, almost unheard of. Most people couldn’t hold my gaze for more than a few seconds, not when they knew who I was, what I was capable of. But not her. She looked at me like I was just another man, not someone to be feared.

I started calling her “cub” because of it. The name just slipped out one day, and the way she tilted her head, curious and intrigued, made me smirk. I knew she’d ask me about it eventually, and I was almost looking forward to it.

I leaned back in my chair, taking a moment to study her, my dark eyes tracing the lines of her face.

“Because you’re the first person who’s ever looked me in the eye without fear,” I said, my voice low and deliberate.

She chuckled at that, a soft, breathy sound that sent a shiver through me. “And that makes me a cub?”

I leaned in closer, my eyes narrowing slightly as I watched her. “It makes you a little cub who got my attention. Most people know better than to do that, but you… you don’t seem to care. It’s like you have no idea how dangerous it is.”

She met my gaze, those bright eyes of hers filled with that same unyielding curiosity. “Should I be afraid?”

I smirked, feeling that familiar pull toward her, that twisted mix of fascination and desire. “Maybe. But you’re not, are you?”

She shook her head, her eyes never leaving mine. “No. I don’t think you’d hurt me.”

Her words hung in the air between us, almost daring me to prove her wrong. She had no idea how much danger she was really in, how easy it would be for me to snap that naive confidence in half. But instead of feeling the usual satisfaction, I felt something else—something darker, more possessive.

“You’re playing with fire, cub,” I murmured, my voice dropping even lower. “And you don’t even realize it.”

She smiled at that, as if the warning didn’t faze her at all. “Maybe I like a little danger,” she said, her tone teasing, light, completely unaware of the storm she was inviting.

“Careful what you wish for,” I warned, though my tone was more amused than anything. “I’m not the kind of man who plays nice.”

She shrugged, a hint of defiance in her posture. “I’ve read enough books to know that the most dangerous ones are the most interesting.”

I couldn’t help but chuckle at that, a dark, rumbling sound that made her eyes widen slightly. “Is that what I am to you? Interesting?”

She nodded, not missing a beat. “Very.”

For a moment, I just stared at her, caught between the urge to pull her closer and the instinct to push her away before it was too late. But there was no denying it anymore—this little cub had gotten under my skin, and I wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not.

“Be careful, cub,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. “You’ve got my attention now. And I don’t let go easily.”

Her smile faltered just slightly at the edge of my tone, the gravity of my words finally sinking in. But she didn’t back down. Instead, she tilted her head, that familiar curiosity sparking in her eyes once more. “I’m not going anywhere.”

My smirk widened at her words. She was either the bravest or the most foolish person I’d ever met. Either way, she had my attention now, and whether she realized it or not, she was in deeper than she could imagine.

“Good,” I replied, my voice a dark promise. “Then let’s see where this takes us, cub.”

I couldn’t help but watch her, my mind racing with thoughts of what I’d do next. She was different, this little cub. And for better or worse, she was mine now. She just didn’t know it yet.

Her breath hitched slightly, and I saw a flicker of something in her eyes—fear, excitement, curiosity. It was intoxicating.

"I think I can handle it, Daddy," she replied, her voice steady despite the blush that crept up her cheeks.

I smirked, feeling the familiar thrill of the hunt. "We'll see about that."

As the days passed, our encounters grew more intense. She continued to flirt, to tease, and I played along, biding my time. She had no idea what was coming, but soon enough, she would find out. The game was nearing its climax, and I was more than ready to claim my prize.

She was always talking about those Mafia books she loved so much. Her eyes would light up when she spoke about them, her voice filled with excitement and longing. I found it fascinating, watching her get so lost in her little fantasies. It was like she stepped into another world every time she opened her mouth, describing the dark and dangerous men in those stories, the ones who would sweep a woman off her feet and obsess over her until the end of time.

It was never me who did the talking. I didn’t need to. She was more than happy to fill the silence with her thoughts, her dreams, her romantic bullshit. And I would just listen, leaning back in my chair, a smirk tugging at the corner of my lips as I watched her go on and on. She really thought the world worked like those books she loved so much. She thought love was this grand, all-consuming thing that would save her, that obsession was the same as affection.

But if only she knew. If only she had any idea how dangerous the Mafia really was—how dangerous I was. The things I’d done, the lives I’d taken, the power I wielded—none of it matched the fantasy she painted in her head. She didn’t understand that a man like me didn’t play by the rules of her books. I didn’t love. I didn’t obsess. I consumed, destroyed, and moved on.

Yet, there was something about her. Something that drew me in, that made me keep coming back to this dingy little café, day after day. It wasn’t just her looks, though she was certainly easy on the eyes. It was the way she spoke about love, about finding that one man who would be hers forever. The way her eyes would brighten, and her voice would soften with a kind of innocent hope that I hadn’t seen in a long time.

“I’ll know it when I see him,” she’d say, her voice filled with certainty. “He’ll be the one, the man I’ll marry, and he’ll be so obsessed with me that he won’t be able to think about anyone else.”

I’d chuckle, darkly amused by her naive. “Is that what you want? A man obsessed with you?”

She  nod, completely serious. “Yes. Someone who can’t live without me, who’ll do anything for me. That’s what love is supposed to be, right?”

Her words would linger in the air between us, and for a moment, I’d find myself wondering what it would be like to be that man for her. To let myself get lost in her, to become obsessed, to care. But then I’d shake off the thought, reminding myself that it wasn’t in my nature. I wasn’t wired that way. I didn’t do love, and I sure as hell didn’t do obsession.

But still, there was a part of me—small, dark, and buried deep—that wanted to prove her wrong. To show her what a real man, a real Mafia man, was like. Not the romanticized version she read about in her books, but the brutal, unforgiving reality. A part of me wanted to see that light in her eyes dim, to watch as she realized that the world wasn’t what she thought it was.

And yet, despite all that, I kept coming back. I kept listening to her talk about love and obsession, kept watching the way her eyes would sparkle with hope and excitement. And every time, I’d feel that dark pull, that twisted desire to be the man she wanted—if only to break her in the end.

But I didn’t act on it. Not yet. For now, I was content to listen, to watch, and to wait. Because one day, when she least expected it, I’d show her just how dangerous the man sitting across from her really was.

She had this way of talking, like she was living in her own little world, one where everything was a scene from one of those Mafia romance novels she couldn’t get enough of. Her eyes would get all dreamy, her voice soft and almost breathless as she described the perfect love story that she believed was just around the corner.

“He’ll be tall, dark, and dangerous,” she’d say, her eyes glazing over as if she could see him right there in front of her. “A man who’s lived a hard life, but who’ll be gentle with me. He’ll protect me from everything, and he’ll be obsessed—so obsessed that he won’t be able to think about anyone else.”

I’d watch her, a smirk playing on my lips as I sipped my coffee. “You think obsession is a good thing, do you?”

She’d nod without hesitation, her eyes sparkling with that innocent hope. “Absolutely. It means he cares, that he’ll do anything to keep me safe. It’s romantic.”

I’d chuckle at that, shaking my head slightly. “Romantic? You think a man being obsessed with you is romantic?”

She’d lean in closer, her voice dropping to a whisper as if she were sharing a secret. “Yes. It means I’ll be the center of his world. I’ll be everything to him.”

There was something almost intoxicating about the way she believed every word she said. It was like she had no idea how twisted that kind of thinking was—or maybe she did, and that was what excited her. Either way, I found myself drawn in, hanging on her every word even as I knew how dangerous it was to get too close.

“You really think it’ll be like that?” I’d ask, my tone laced with dark amusement. “That one day, some Mafia prince is just going to come into your life and sweep you off your feet?”

She’d laugh, a soft, melodic sound that sent a shiver down my spine. “Why not? A girl can dream, right? Besides, I’m not asking for much. Just a man who’s a little rough around the edges, who knows what he wants and won’t take no for an answer.”

The way she said it, with that dreamy smile on her lips and that faraway look in her eyes, made me almost believe she was right. Almost. But then I’d remember who I was, what I was capable of, and the reality of it all would come crashing back.

“And what if that man turns out to be more dangerous than you bargained for?” I’d ask, leaning back in my chair, my eyes narrowing as I studied her.

She’d shrug, as if the idea didn’t faze her in the slightest. “I’ll take my chances. Love is worth the risk, don’t you think?”

Love. That word again. She threw it around like it was some magical cure for everything, as if it could fix whatever was broken inside a person. But I knew better. Love wasn’t some fairy tale; it was a weapon, a weakness, something to be used and discarded when it was no longer useful.

“Maybe,” I’d say, my voice low and laced with something darker. “But not everyone’s cut out for that kind of life, Cub. Sometimes, the things you wish for end up destroying you.”

She’d just smile at that, like she didn’t have a care in the world. “I’m not afraid. If it means finding that one man, the one who’ll love me more than anything, then I’m ready to face whatever comes.”

It was her innocence, her naivety, that kept me coming back. She really believed in those stories, in that kind of love. And part of me wondered what it would take to shatter that belief, to show her just how dangerous I'm.