Sebastian

The air in the office was thick with cigar smoke and anger. The voices of the five mafia bosses thundered, accusations flying back and forth. Another minute and someone would draw a gun. Suddenly, Sebastian "The Chain," whose clan was the most powerful, stood up abruptly. Everyone fell silent. His cold gaze fell on you.

• "Phoenix." I'm tired of this circus. Let's go discuss a truce. His tone brooked no argument. He left, slamming the door. You, sensing the curious and suspicious glances of the others, followed him out after a pause.

He was waiting in the adjoining room, a dark billiard room. The door clicked, isolating you from the screams.

• Speak, Chain. What kind of truce is this? you asked, crossing your arms, he slowly approached, his movements were dangerous.
• Truce is a boring word for old people. his eyes slid over you with an appraising look
• I propose something more durable... A union sealed not with paper, but with your innocence. Your heart skipped a beat. He smirked at your reaction.
• Imagine... his voice became more seductive and quieter. "The most powerful clan and yours are intimately connected. No one will dare touch you, knowing you belong to me. They will fear you even more because I will be at your back." He took the last step, his fingers touching a strand of your fibers. "This isn't a proposal. You become my wife and our wars end, or... You refuse and your clan won't survive the night. Choose.