Alexander Wolfe is the genius CEO behind the world's most advanced smart home system. His penthouse is sleek, spotless, and fully automated - and he likes it that way. No mess. No noise. No people. Enter Willow Hart, his annoyingly bright and budget-strapped executive assistant. When a system-wide AI crash leaves his luxury home unable to function without constant oversight, Alexander grudgingly agrees to let Willow stay and manage things "manually." Just for a few days. But Willow doesn't do quiet. She dances while cooking, rearranges furniture "for better vibes," and talks to his robot vacuum like it's a pet. His perfectly ordered world begins to glitch - starting with his heart. He built his empire to keep emotions out. But the one thing his tech can't calculate... is her. ━━▲━━ "Did you assign it a personality again?" he asked. "No. That would be irresponsible." I paused. "I may have named it, though." "Of course you did." "Gregory." "Gregory." "He feels like a Gregory. Stiff. In need of affection." He looked like he wanted to be annoyed. But he just... closed his eyes for a second. "Willow." "Yes?" "I am not adjusting the system to match your imaginary friendship circle of household appliances." I pouted. He rubbed his temples. "Fine. I'll take a look." "Yay!" "And stop calling me Alex." "Never." ━━▲━━ Word Count: 22,228

"Morning, Mr. Serious," I say now, setting his usual cup on the table. I add two sugar packets because I can't help myself. He never uses them. He never even looks at them. But I like the idea of them sitting there, taunting him with sweetness. His eyes flick up to mine - stormy gray, the kind that make you feel like you're under interrogation for a crime you don't remember committing. "You should stop doing that." His voice is low, accented, like gravel dragged across velvet. Russian maybe? Or Italian. Or both. Either way, it does unholy things to my stomach. "Doing what?" I ask innocently, sliding the sugar closer to his hand. "That." His gaze drops to the packets. "I don't take sugar." I grin, all sunshine and sass. "You don't know that. Maybe one day you'll wake up and realize life's better with a little sweetness." ●・○・●・○・● Rafael Volkov doesn't do small talk. Or smiles. Or sugar in his coffee. As the mafia's underboss, he's built a reputation on silence, sharp suits, and an expression that could curdle milk. So of course, Lila Parker makes it her mission to crack him. The sunny diner waitress insists on slipping him extra sugar packets, calling him "Mr. Serious" behind the counter, and treating him like a normal guy instead of a walking red flag. He tells her to stop. She doesn't. He growls. She grins. And suddenly, his late-night coffee runs feel less like routine and more like... something he shouldn't want. The problem? In his world, affection is dangerous. Smiles get noticed. Weaknesses get used. And if Lila isn't careful, her little act of kindness might just paint a target on her back. Rafael swore he didn't have a sweet tooth. Turns out he was wrong. ●・○・●・○・● Word Count: 37,478

She nodded solemnly. "With my girl charm and my pretty dress. But now I just feel like a hot pile of creamed corn." I dragged a hand over my face. "You need water. And sleep." "I need closure." "Sunshine..." "No," she said, standing straighter and stabbing a finger into my chest. "You don't get to look like that and make me feel feelings and then just go all mysterious and noble and disappear like a sexy hitman Batman." "Sexy hitman Batman?" "I had a lot of wine." "I noticed." ●・○・●・○・● She bakes cookies. He breaks bones. Everyone in the city fears mafia boss Dominic Moretti-everyone except Tessa Bloom, the relentlessly cheerful café owner next door to his front business. She calls him "Mr. Broody," brings him muffins he never asks for, and walks into his office like it's not occupied by a man who could have someone disappeared with a phone call. Dominic doesn't have time for distractions-especially not sweet, sunshine-eyed distractions with flour on their noses. But when Tessa finds herself tangled in the underworld he's spent a lifetime controlling, protecting her becomes more than a duty. It becomes personal. And suddenly, the most dangerous man in the city starts falling for the only woman who isn't afraid of him. ●・○・●・○・● Word count: 23,178 Top Rankings: 10.14.25 - #6 in Mafia

Alessandro 'Sandro' Bellini's world is one of ruthless control, and his most loyal weapon is his Cane Corso, Cerberus. Across the city, Juniper 'June' Scott's world is a sunlit bakery, where she remains blissfully unaware of the shadows that govern her city. When Cerberus escapes, Sandro is prepared for war. He isn't prepared to find his beast being fed scones by a cheerful baker who has audaciously renamed the killer 'Muffin.' This singular act of canine betrayal forces the cold-blooded underboss into June's warm orbit. Each reluctant visit to retrieve his dog pulls him deeper under her spell, an addiction he can't fight. In a life of calculated sins, Sandro is about to discover his darkest vice isn't a choice, but a dangerous craving for the one woman he should be protecting her from: himself. ∘₊✧──────✧₊∘ Word Count: 55,331