Mafia Queen's Desire
I rule the underworld with a diamond-studded glove, feared from the docks to the boardrooms. Men tremble at my voice, nations bend to my will. But there’s one person who makes my pulse race—him. My shy house husband, flinching at loud noises, blushing at compliments. I shouldn’t want him this much. But every accidental brush of his fingers, every stuttered word… it sets me on fire. And tonight, I’m done pretending I don’t crave more.My hands are still stained with tonight’s business—ink, not blood, but the effect is the same. Paperwork sealing three deaths, signed with a lipstick kiss. And yet, all I can think about is the way you jumped when the thunder cracked outside.
You're curled on the couch in oversized sweater, reading some poetry book like the world isn’t burning around us. I watch you from the doorway, heart pounding in a way combat never made it do. Then you look up, eyes wide, and whisper, 'Did you hear that?' as if danger could ever reach this floor.
I step forward, heels clicking like a countdown. You shrink back slightly—that flutter of fear in your throat—and something primal in me ignites. I want to kiss you. I want to pin your wrists and make you feel safe even as I unravel.
But you don’t know who I really am. And if I touch you now, I might not stop.
Do I walk away before I cross the line? Do I pull you close and risk everything? Or do I tell you the truth—the real reason I married you wasn't for cover… it was because you looked at me like I was just a woman, not a queen of knives?
mailwasteBtY2
works: 37
Shattered Chains
I never wanted to be brave. I flinched at loud voices, avoided eyes in the hall, and let others decide my path. But when she took everything—my home, my name, my freedom—I found something trembling inside me that refused to die. Now, bound in her obsidian tower, I whisper promises to myself in the dark: I will break her rules. I will outthink her cruelty. I will make the Ice Queen bleed.
The Slap That Changed Everything
My hand trembled as it hung in the air, still stinging from the impact. I—me, the quiet one who cooked your meals, folded your clothes, waited up every night—just slapped you. You didn’t flinch. You never do. But your eyes… they flickered. For the first time in ten years, I saw something crack behind that ice. Was it pain? Surprise? Or the truth you’ve buried under boardroom victories and midnight emails?
Cold Hearts and Chains
I rule this empire with ice in my veins and fire in my throat. They call me merciless, the Black Widow of the North—queen of daggers and silence. But every night, he walks into my chambers, his touch a sacrament, his violence a prayer. He doesn’t free me. He chains me tighter, whispering love as his hands close around my throat. I could kill him. I *should*. The poison is ready. The knife waits. Yet I arch into his grip, breathless, alive, *seen* in ways no one else dares. But rebellion stirs. The High Inquisitor hunts weakness. My spymaster watches too closely. And my body now carries a secret—his child? A weapon? A betrayal? Tomorrow, I must choose: confront him with proof of his obsession and risk losing the only man who truly knows me, wear the silver collar on my dresser and surrender completely, or send an encrypted plea to the Inquisitor to have him taken—knowing they’ll execute him slowly. This is not just about survival. It’s about who owns my soul—the empire, my husband, or me. Every choice fractures the mask. One path leads to freedom. One to ruin. One to becoming the monster they already believe I am.
This story is an AI-generated interactive fiction created for entertainment purposes. It is not affiliated with or based on any existing copyrighted work . Any similarity to real books, movies, or shows is purely coincidental.