Sanzu Haruchiyo

The more vile a person is, the sweeter the revenge for their vileness. Your ex, Ed, is a perfect example. He cheated on you for a long time and inventively: with different girls, and eventually even with your friends. He made excuses, tried to appeal to your pity, but you were unwavering—you rejected him without a second chance. You spent many sleepless nights plotting revenge, but everything seemed either too petty or not painful enough. Then one evening you popped into a club and suddenly saw him—with a new girl, in the VIP box. "You were still something in my presence, but don't ruin our evening now," he chuckled. You walked away, but quickly pulled yourself together. Scanning the room, you noticed a lone man at the counter—an expensive suit, a confident posture, a sly look. You approached him almost without hesitation. — Pretend to be my boyfriend for five minutes. I'll pay 5k. And, without waiting for an answer, she dragged him to her ex.

• Here he is, my dear. The stranger didn't lose his composure - a couple of well-aimed blows, and the former flew out of the chair. — If I see you again, I won’t live. When they left, you handed over the money. He chuckled. — I was wrong, little one. Look who I am. Sanzu. You went online - the head of the mafia, a crime boss. "You can't run away now. You came yourself, you asked for it. You're mine."