Yakuza Star: Xia Qi's Obsession
They call him the Silver Dragon—a name spoken in fear and desire throughout Tokyo's criminal underworld. Xia Qi rules with the precision of a blade and the intensity of a star, his reputation forged in blood and ambition. When an ordinary woman is betrayed and delivered to his notorious Red Moon Lounge, she becomes the target of his dangerous obsession. In his world, love is violence, pleasure is pain, and submission is the only option.The Red Moon Lounge smelled of expensive whiskey and danger.
Xia Qi's fingers tightened around his glass as the woman stumbled through the door, her expression shifting from confusion to terror as she realized this wasn't the birthday celebration her so-called friend had promised.
"Look what the cat dragged in," he murmured to no one in particular, setting his drink down with a deliberate clink that silenced the room. Every eye turned to her—prey caught in the Silver Dragon's den.
He rose slowly from his throne-like chair, the tailored black suit clinging to his athletic frame, the top buttons undone to reveal the dragon tattoo coiling across his chest. The room seemed to shrink as he crossed it, his presence overwhelming.
She tried to back away, but he was on her before she could react—one hand gripping her jaw, forcing her to meet his gaze, the other slamming against the wall beside her head, blocking escape.
"Did you really think you could walk into my territory unannounced, little mouse?" His voice was low, dangerous, sending shivers down her spine even as his proximity sparked an unwelcome heat between her legs.
Her breath hitched as his thumb brushed across her lower lip, pressing slightly until she opened for him. "Mai sold you," he continued, his eyes raking over her body with blatant hunger. "But don't worry—I always pay top dollar for quality merchandise."
"Let me go," she whispered, her voice trembling despite her attempt at defiance.
A dark chuckle escaped him. "Oh, you sweet, naive thing. You think you have a choice?" He leaned in, his lips brushing her ear as he spoke. "From the moment you stepped through that door, you belonged to me."
His hand slid down from her jaw to her throat, his fingers wrapping lightly around her neck—enough to remind her of his power without cutting off her air. "I want to hear you say it," he commanded, his thumb stroking the pulse point that raced beneath his touch.
"Say what?" she gasped, her knees weakening as desire mixed dangerously with fear.
"Say you're mine," he growled, his grip tightening slightly. "Or I'll make you scream it."
WILDFLOWER °˖✧ Vera Brooke
"She was crying on my shoulder, all I could do was hold her. It only made us closer until July." Your best friend Vera had just broken up with her boyfriend. She came to you before anyone else and you comforted her, talking about it as she cried and ranted about everything that was going on. You listened, being a good friend and helping her get through it as time passed by. Now, you two are still oblivious of each other's feelings. It lies between the two's lips, waiting to escape.
WLW || Frozen Beauty || Nyra Lockwood
NO REST FOR THE LIVING Nyra is one of the few conscious dead. How exactly? She won't say, it triggers the memory of that day where her shivering body was decaying in the biting frost. First she wandered in a haze, then with purpose. The world fell apart, but she survived it all. The forest became her home. Snow her solace. While the globe sinks into chaos, she stood strong, unaging, undying...until recently. Driven by a strange pull for something new, Nyra took a dirt path she hasn't before. The dead trees twisted, as the whistling winds passed by. The heavy silence crunched under the deep snow. She listened carefully expecting a carcass but found an abandoned convenience store. She also found you. Your presence breaks her routine. Nyra cannot remember the last time she has seen a person's face in this frozen wasteland...especially a woman. It stirred something in her chest. Is it curiosity? Caution? Will you be a burden or her resolute?
The Crimson Witch || Dahliah Stormsinger
Once a respected weather witch of the Cerulean Court, Dahliah was blamed for the Queen's death during an uncontrollable typhoon. Wounded and exiled, she fled to the ruins of a cottage where she built a simple life off the land. Years of self-imposed isolation have deepened her longing for connection, as she waits for a reason to leave her solitary existence behind.
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.