#4 John Wick

[keyfpro]

رابط تحميل فيلم 4 John Wick الجزء الرابع مترجم كامل 2023 HD

رابط تحميل فيلم 4 John Wick الجزء الرابع مترجم متوفر الآن عبر عدة منصات تحميل، يترقب العديد من معجبي ��لسلة أفلام جون ويك الجزء الرابع المنتظر من السلسلة ��عد انقطاٍع دام 4 سنين تقريبًا منذ الفلم الأخير بالسلسلة، حيث يستمر جون ويك في سعيه بالقضاء على العصابة التي تلاحقه بشكٍل كامل. ولهذا نفدم لكم من موقع خبرني رابط تحميل فيلم 4 John Wick الجُزء الرابع مترجم كامل عبر عدة منصات مشاهدة أفلام ومسلسلات…

[2013venjix]

THIS.... WAS.... EXCELLENT!!!! Non stop action from beginning to end.  Plus, it was bittersweet at best, in the film and outside of it. The cast was pure perfection, From Keanu Reeves to Donnie Yen to Rina Sawayama.

A Solid film sequel! Worth seeing!!

10/10! 

[pizgif]

John Wick: Chapter 4 (2023)

[sugakookiesbutbadass]

[skarsgards-bill]

BILL SKARSGÅRD as MARQUIS VINCENT John Wick: Chapter 4 (2023) Dir. Chad Stahelski

[keanusbabydoll]

consequence

paring: john wick x virgin!fem!reader

warnings: 18+ content, heavy smut, oral (M and F), unprotected sex, p in v, age gap, rough sex, fingering, overstimulation, praising, cursing, use of y/n, virgin reader, porn with plot, pet names

wordcount: 6.5k

MNDI

. • °✧༺ ༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚ . • °✧༺ ༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚ . • °✧༺ ༻*✫

you didn’t know how you ended up in this situation.

tied to a chair in an apartment of a hotel, your mouth covered with duck tape.

next to you stood a tall man, slick black hair and wearing a suit. but that was all you could make out. the room was pitch dark except for the moonlight shining slightly through the window across from you.

you didn’t know what to do. your body was shaking in fear and inside you was a chaos of emotions. you thought that this was your end, that you were going to die. the man asked you questions, some of them you didn’t even understand. who sent you? what is your mission? who are you working for?

all that didn’t make sense to you.

all you wanted to do there was looking for answers. a few days ago, you found a red folder in your grandpas office at home. winston scott. the only family you had left. but something always seemed off with him. he never let you come to work with him, was always very distant if you asked about his job and was barely at home. you knew that he hid something from you. and you were determined to find out, so all you could think about was looking in his office which you weren’t even allowed to enter.

but you couldn’t hold yourself back anymore. you needed to know what was going on. so, you found that red, promising folder and what you found in there took your breath away.

there were pictures of a hotel you definitely knew and flipping to the next pages you stumbled across the high table, rules- also from the hotel, and the criminal underworld. you didn’t know what to say. it all didn’t seem real. it was like straight out of a movie. you wanted it to be unreal but all this was proof that it was reality. and now everything started to make sense to you. that was the reason why your grandpa never told you anything about his job, let you come along or was gone for weeks. at this point you even wondered how you’ve never heard anything from all that before. it was confusing.

but right now you deeply regretted walking into that hotel. you just wanted answers, wanted to search for your grandpa and talk to him. but that man must have known that you weren’t here, like every other criminal, to seek protection.

you were desperately trying to get out of the restraints that tied you to the chair, tears were streaming down your face like a waterfall and constant whimpers and whines left your mouth- wordlessly begging him to set you free. you had no idea what that man was going to do with you. and that scared you to death. but nothing helped. he acted like you weren’t even there.

"please.“ you mumbled through the tape, your eyes pleading silently. in a matter of seconds he turned on his heels sharply, his patience wearing thin and his fingers immediately wrapped harshly around your gin, forcing you to look up. "one more fucking sound and you won’t get out alive.“ he growled, his voice sending shivers down your spine.

you quickly nodded your head as he let go of your gin and marched across the room, stopping by a table which had a telephone placed on it. you watched him as he dialed a number and waited impatiently, the tight grip on the telephone proof of it.

"hello sir.“ he suddenly said. you could make out a faint male‘s voice but didn’t hear what he was saying.

"yes i‘d like to speak to the manager." a sigh fell from his lips. "no, here in room 818.“ he continued, his voice deep and cold. "thank you.“ he ended the call, tossing the telephone back on the table before storming off to a different room.

you were left alone with your thoughts when suddenly your blood froze.

the manager.

you almost forgot that your grandpa owned this hotel. you started to panic even more. you had no idea how he would react seeing you tied up in one of his apartments. plus, you weren’t even supposed to know about this place. the tears were now getting more and more, blurring your vision completely but you tried your best to keep quiet. you didn’t want to anger that man further.

minutes of heavy, uncomfortable silence passed and there was still no sight of him. your emotions were starting to eat you up, the fear, sadness, anger drove you insane.

but out of a sudden there was a loud knock echoing through the whole apartment. you shrieked up, your head turning to the door‘s direction when the lights turned on. you immediately closed your eyes, blinking a few times to get used to it. again, you looked over to the door and found the man unlocking it.

"johnathan.“ is the first thing you heard before grandpa stepped into the room. your eyes widened and your pulse quickened. there was no going back now.

"winston.“ the man replied, both of them shaking hands.

"is there something wrong johnathan?“ grandpa asked, his eyes fixated on the man.

"there was a little incidence. i thought i’d show you, let you decide what you’d like to do with her.“ johnathan answered, gesturing his head towards your direction. when winston‘s eyes followed johnathan’s gesture, his mouth slightly parted and his movements stopped. the second you had eye contact, you began to whimper, wriggle, trash around, just anything to make him come to you and free you from your position.

fortunately he took that as a sign and ran over to you, immediately kneeling down, untying the ropes around your wrists and ankles before he ripped the tape off your mouth, eliciting a painful hiss from you. in an instant, you got to your feet, wrapped your arms around his neck and began to cry again.

"i‘m so sorry grandpa. please forgive me, i didn’t mean to-" you were cut off mid-sentence when he slightly pushed you away from his embrace, looking at you with a disappointed face.

you glared at him with pure confusion. what was going on? your eyes darted over to that man, or well johnathan, who watched the situation closely with furrowed eyebrows. your eyes snapped back to your grandpa when he suddenly gripped your upper arm, squeezing it harshly. "what are you-"

"what the fuck has crossed your brilliant mind to do such a thing!?“ grandpa suddenly yelled, making you jump slightly. you wanted to answer him but you couldn’t. you didn’t know what to tell him.

"how do you even know about this place? did you snoop around in my office, y/n?“ he continued, his tone cold and angry.

you couldn’t answer him. you broke his highest rule- not entering his office and you did even worse. "answer my question!“ he hissed at you, making you jump a little. your eyes were glued to the floor, not having the confidence to look him in the eye.

"yes, i - i found your folder.“ you quietly mumbled. the grey haired man huffed out in disbelief and released your arm, taking a few steps away before looking at johnathan. they exchanged a weird look, you couldn’t tell the meaning of and it freaked you out.

somehow you didn’t get what the big deal now was. sooner or later you would have found out anyway, he couldn’t have kept that secret forever. you looked up at him, catching him pinching the bridge of his nose.

"do you have any idea what you’ve gotten yourself into? i never wanted you to know about this world.“

your mouth opened to say something but nothing came out. there was nothing to say.

his stare darkened as he continued. "i wanted to protect you, keep you away from that. and now with that stupid and reckless action of yours you ruined everything. there are hundreds of criminals, assassins, brutal murderers in my hotel and they saw you. you’ve got their attention and they’ll talk about you, y/n.“ tears began to form in your eyes, you didn’t even know why but the whole situation made you feel incredibly awful.

"i‘m sorry.“ you quietly whispered, sending him an apologetic look.

johnathan and grandpa huffed out in sync, a playful smirk played on the black haired man’s mouth. "oh, you’re sorry. y/n, a simple sorry won’t do it! you do not understand what this means right now! i do have enemy’s, what if they’ll hunt you down, what if they’ll try to kill you?“ your grandpa sneered at you, eyes narrowed. "i can’t believe it y/n, since when do you do shit like this?“

you frowned, staring at the floor again. on one hand you felt like a disappointment to your grandpa. you always tried to make him proud and he cared for you like the parent you’ve lost at a young age. but on the other hand you were furious. he was giving you all fault. like, did he actually think that you’d never find out? or the fact that he’s a criminal himself and runs a hotel for those people, speaks for itself. to keep something like that from you made you angry, hurt you even.

you furrowed your eyebrows at him angrily, forcefully wiping the tears that stained your cheeks away. both men stared at you impatiently, waiting for your reply. but in their eyes, there was a gleam of hate and disappointment.

"what? cat got your tongue?“ winston stated mockingly and you felt like you were about to loose your temper.

"you want me to talk? fine.“ you replied, your eyes darting between both men. "what do you expect me to do now? turn into some fucking monster like you two are? kill people and torture them? or join your little gangster club you always kept secret from me?“ you raised your voice, laced with pure sarcasm and anger.

a dark chuckled rang through the room, sending unpleasant tingles through your body. johnathan. of course he found the whole situation amusing. he thought that your behavior was childish and funny.

"you know nothing about this world. there is no 'little gangster club', things are serious.“ he pointed out sharply, crossing his arms over his chest. you huffed out, taking a few steps closer to johnathan but you were stopped by a hand on your wrist. your eyes switched to your grandpa who looked at you disapprovingly. "don’t even try it.“ he warned you lowly.

"i don’t even know him? what is he even doing here?“ you yelled at them now, your emotions taking over you, tears forming in the corner of your eyes again. "do you even know how i’m feeling right now? i can’t fucking believe that you lied to me all this time only to find out a few days ago that you’re a fucking criminal!“

"do not raise your voice at me y/n!“ winston snapped, pointing a finger at you warningly. "or what? you gonna ground me for it?“

"no, johnathan and i’ll have a talk now. you stay here, i don’t want a single misbehavior from you. am i clear?“ you wanted to yell at him so badly, but you knew better than that. there would have been no use in discussing further with him anyway.

"mhm.“ you hummed, turning around to sit on the bed. "what was that?“ winston muttered. "yes, i understand.“ you mumbled and watched them as they exited the room.

you collapsed on the bed, your face buried in your hands. you wanted to slap yourself for being this stupid. if you just would’ve listened to winston and followed his rules then you wouldn’t have been in this situation. many thoughts crossed your mind, and your head felt like it would explode. but one thing weighed most on you; you wanted to know what they were talking about and how all that would continue. a while left your lips and you exhaled loudly.

minutes passed and still they weren’t back. and it was frustrating you. what could they possibly discuss this long? just as you wanted to go out and look for them, the door opened and both of them stepped in. you immediately sat up, looking at them curiously.

your grandpa stopped directly in front of you, glaring down at you with a serious mask. and you knew that face. it never meant something good. johnathan had a emotionless expression plastered on his face, waiting for winston to speak up.

"johnathan and i have talked and we’ve come to an agreement. you’ll be staying with him from now on. he’ll teach you how to fight, how to be prepared for-"

"excuse me? what?“ you interrupted, caught off from his words. he must be joking, you thought. he wouldn’t have let you live with a stranger who was a killer, right?

"i‘m serious y/n.“ he snarled, clearly annoyed by your behavior.

"you want me to stay with the crazy killer who tied me to a fucking chair? not gonna happen.“ you replied, crossing your arms. not over your dead parents you would have done that.

"i am not going to discuss with you, y/n. also, you don’t get to decide this, sweetheart. this is the consequence for your action, so face it.“ grandpa pointed out, his voice dripping with sarcasm as a smirk was plastered on his lips. you were stunned, speechless even. you truly didn’t know what to say.

two months later

john‘s house, or villa - how you like to call it - nestled on the outskirts of new york, became your new home. after the argument, back in john’s apartment, he and your grandpa practically forced you to pack your stuff and move in with the assassin. it was hard, for all of you, but especially for you. your world was turned upside down and you felt like you weren’t even real. it all happened so fast -too fast. you were mad at your grandpa, ever since then you haven’t talked to him.

in your opinion, he was the one who was to blame. if he would have just told you about all this calmly, just the two of you, you wouldn’t have been in this awful situation now. of course you missed him, but you felt like he was mad himself and you didn’t have the energy to call him.

however, you slowly got used to living with john. it was strange to be honest, a weird atmosphere that made uncomfortable. he hardly ever talked to you, which bothered you dearly because you thought that it would be a good start to create small conversations but john basically avoided your attempts. the first month turned into grueling routines. mornings, afternoons, evenings -all focused on training.

there were bruises on your arms and legs, soreness in muscles you never knew you had. john wasn’t merciful, not in the least. he pushed you harder than you thought possible, demanding more each time. and whenever you showed any sign of weakness, his responses were brutal and without sympathy. but as difficult as he was, you found yourself watching him more and more. the way he moved -silent, calculated, almost predatory. his voice deep and rough, had a way of making your heart skip even as he issued orders. and not to forget how sexy he was to you. you often imagined fucking with him like there was no morning.

but you tried to hide it, to ignore the way your stomach fluttered whenever he spoke your name, or the way your heart pounded when his hand accidentally brushed against yours. but the feelings for him grew, every day, every lesson, you found yourself falling harder.

compared to now, the training grew more intense, but john’s coldness also seemed to deepen. you couldn’t understand why; you’ve gotten to know each other, you thought, shared so much time together, but he seemed more guarded than ever. you wanted to believe that there was something between that icy exterior, a warmth you’d occasionally glimpsed in his eyes, but he was difficult to read.

one evening, close to 8 pm, you found yourself again in the training room you hated so much. your arms and legs ached, your body was slick with sweat and your head felt like it was going to explode. but even seeing you in such a state, john didn’t budge, he just continued to explain and show you more and more techniques.

"like this.” he instructed, his voice low as his hands adjusted his stance. he tried to come at you again but you dodge his blow. frustration bubbled inside you, fueled by his coldness, his distance, your own feelings. for the last time, you took all your strength together. before he could react, you had one leg wrapped around his torso, one hand around his neck- surprising him with a quick maneuver. with all your power, you used the momentum to throw him to the ground. to your shock, you ended up on top of him, straddling his waist - both hands on his chest- your breathing quick and heavy.

john’s eyes met yours, his usual coldness softened by a hint of something you couldn’t quite read. the tension between you both thickened, your cheeks flushed red as you realized the position you guys were in. you could feel his heart beat beneath you, see the dark glint eyes in his eyes as they held your gaze.

"impressive.” he murmured, his voice rough.

your breath caught and your mouth opened to speak, but before you could, john’s hand was on your waist, the other around your throat as he pulled you down, closing the space between you. his lips met yours, firm, commanding and your heart skipped, every nerve igniting. you gasped, but the kiss grew more intense, he slipped his tongue in your mouth, claiming you. his hand wandered up and down your back, stopping at your ass, giving it a harsh squeeze, eliciting a muffled moan from you.

your fingers gripped his shirt, pulling him closer. the heat began to pool in your panties when you felt his hard- on pressing against your core. your body automatically started to grind down, trying to gain friction to ease the ache that tingled in your abdomen. but john pulled away, stopping your kiss.

"not here.” he muttered, easily getting up with you still clung to him. you wrapped your legs around his waist, your mouths colliding again. his hands on your ass, supporting your weight. he walked out of the room, your lips never parting. john entered the living room and sat down on the couch with you still on top of him. his hands now roamed your whole body, squeezing your breasts, running up and down your back, slapping your ass slightly. again, your hips began to grind down against him, his cock now rock hard, the feeling making you whine out. john also groaned into the kiss, loving the pleasure he received just as much.

then, john let his hands slip under your shirt, caressing the warm skin, before he broke your kiss, pulling the fabric over your head and tossing it away. his eyes admired your half naked body, focusing on your tits which were pushed up plumply from your bra. he immediately bent down and started to suck on your neck, licking and biting the sensitive skin with fever. your body arched into his touch, small moans escaping your lips as you shut your eyes.

you felt john’s hands reaching around your middle to unclasp your bra before pulling both straps down, adding the piece of clothing to the floor. he withdrew from your neck, taking in your bare tits, his eyes turning darker with the desire. "fuck, doll.” he licked his lips before he dipped down, immediately taking one of your hardened nipple into his mouth. his tongue swirled around the bud while sucking on it harshly. "oh, john.” you whined out, his abuse sending jolts of pleasure directly to your cunt. your movements began to fasten, your moans growing louder.

john switched sides, taking care of your other nipple equally. "more, john.” you begged him, your fingers pulling on his raven hair. but john released your nipple and pushed you back slightly. "get on your knees.” he growled, voice full of dominance. you blinked at him a few times, your breath heavy, before you got off his lap and placed yourself between his thighs. "come on, be a good girl for daddy.” he said lowly while gesturing to his bulge, his tone sending shivers down your spine.

hesitatingly, you let your hands ran up his thighs, wrapping your fingers around the waistband of his sweatpants and boxers. you swiftly pulled both down, letting them pool around his ankles before he stepped out of them. your eyes widened a little at the sight of his cock.

thick. long. veiny. he almost looked intimidating, making you wonder how you’ll be able to take all of him. you scooted closer to him, staring up at him with doe eyes. "now don’t be shy, doll. go on.” he commanded, waiting desperately for your next move.

with a slightly shaking hand, you wrapped it around his base before licking a tiny strip along his reddened tip. his dick immediately twitched at the contact, a low groan falling from his lips. carefully, you licked his shaft before dipping the head completely in your mouth. you looked up at him so innocently, so desperate. john placed his hand on your head, slightly gripping the roosts of your hair. he began to push your head further down in his length, your nose almost touching his pelvis. a loud strangled gag rang through the room, as your whole body shivered and tears immediately shot into your eyes. "relax baby, breath through your nose." he rasped lowly, eyeing you with desire.

you blinked your tears away, focusing back on giving him pleasure. you began to bob your head up and down his cock, slow and teasing at first. the loud groans that fell from his lips only urged you to go faster, signing you that you were doing good. you let your tongue swirl around his shaft, massaging it and pressing it strongly against his shaft. john's eyes opened again, falling immediately down to you, growling out when he saw your plump lips wrapped around him so perfectly.

he couldn't hold back anymore.

his hand gripped tighter and he began to move your head on his cock in a fast pace, controlling your movements. you tried your best to relax your throat, letting him use your throat however he pleased. drool was slowly dripping down your gin and your eyes were watery, his size almost bruising your throat. you constantly felt his tip brushing against the back of your throat and his hips began to jerk. your hands held onto his thighs, needing support as he pulled your head down even faster and rougher. you were a mess at that point. your mascara was running down your cheeks, spit practically all over your face and your arms were shaking.

john's cock started to twitch uncontrollably and you knew he was close to releasing, making you swirl your tongue with even more pressure. but before he could empty his load into your mouth, he withdrew your head from his length, a guttural growl escaping his throat. "I'm only gonna fill up your little cunt."

his words sent sparks through your lower half, feeling the heat pooling in your panties, slowly dripping down your thighs from how much you're turned on.

you tried to catch your breath when he already pulled you up to straddle his waist again before he laid you down on the sofa. he immediately gripped your shirt, tearing it off your body. next, he got rid your shorts, pulling your panties with it. he glared down at your form, sprawled out beneath him and he could feel jolts of pleasure shooting through his entire body. the only piece of clothing that was in his way to see you completely bare, was your bra. in a matter of seconds he unclasped it and added it to the pile of clothes.

and that's when your panic set it.

you were still a virgin and he didn't know.

you were unsure if you should tell him, not knowing how he would react. you already felt like he was a little hesitant about doing all this with you, simply out of respect to your grandpa. he was his closest friend, his most loyal and go to person. and then betraying him like that and fucking with his granddaughter?

you just knew that this was eating john up innerly. but his desire seemed to win. nonetheless, you had to tell him, you wanted him to know.

you watched him with a quick beating heart when he removed his shirt and leaned down, his hands and legs trapping you between his body. without a second thought, john bowed his head down and began to suck on your neck, prepping your hot skin with open mouthed kisses. a quiet moan fell from your lips, giving in to his touch. he trailed his kissed down to your breasts, sucking feverishly on your flesh before letting his tongue swirl around your hardened nipple, sucking harshly. john hummed out at the feeling, making his way down your belly, desperately wanting to taste you. but that's when you cupped his face with your hands and forced him to look up to you.

john grinned up at you, coming closer to a point where your lips almost touched. "I can't wait to finally taste you, ruin that little pussy." he groaned in your ear, his hot breath tickling your skin. your breathing got heavier and your hands slightly shook. you had to tell him now before it was too late.

"uhm- john, I-i need to tell you something." you pointed out with a shaky voice, your face turning aside, avoiding eye contact. "anything, baby." he replied, before he went back to kissing your neck.

"it's just... I've never done something like this before." you whispered, practically almost inaudible. "I didn't hear you, say it again." john mumbled between kisses, not even registering your words, being too caught up with worshipping your body.

you sighed out, lips pouting. "I'm a virgin, John." you said now louder, your eyes searching for his. and this time he must have heard it. his movements stopped and his now narrowed eyes met yours. without you even fully understanding what was happening, he removed his body from yours in the blink of an eye, grabbing his clothes which rested on the floor. "john, I-"

"no, don't even start with your stupid excuses. I knew that this would be wrong and that I shouldn't even have let it come so far. but taking you virginity? disgusting." he hisses harshly, voice clearly raised as he turned away.

you felt tears pricking in your eyes. that's not how you imagined it would go. you laid there completely horny, embarrassed but also hurt. you dearly wanted him to be your first time and now he left you all railed up and wetness pooling between your thighs. "but I want you to continue, please! I want you to take my virginity. and I won't regret you being my first time, I promise. please, john." you bitterly whined, hoping that he would change his mind.

you heard him taking in a deep breath as he turned around again, eyes darker than before.

"please, I need you!" you whimpered, rubbing your thighs uncomfortably together, the painful ache in your core unbearable at that point. "John..." you pleaded him, glaring up at him with puppy eyes.

finally he sighs, dropping his clothes again before getting on top of you again. "are you sure, y/n? i won't be able to control myself. " he said in a dangerous, low tone, sending shivers down your spine.

"yes john, I'm sure. please, touch me." you replied impatiently, wrapping your legs around his torso, arms around his shoulders to pull him in as close as possible. "good, because now there is no going back anymore." he rasped as he leaned in, claiming your lips. you gasped into the kiss when you felt the tip of his cock nudging at your clit, shock waves of pleasure rushing through your veins. "I need you john." you moaned into the kiss, pressing your hips up to gain friction. he groaned out in response, sneaking a hand down your body to let a finger slide between your folds. "fuck, you're so wet." he purred, slowly pushing a finger into your warm hole. your head fell back, breaking your kiss, at finally feeling him. "need to prepare that little pussy first." he growled, while licking the spot right beneath your ear.

with how slick you were, john could easily slip another finger in, moaning out at your tightness. he began to move them in and out rather fast, curling them up to reach your spongy spot. "feels so good." you whined, toes curling from his abuse. a third finger teased at your hole, collecting your juice before pushing it in as well, this time with a little more pressure. your eyes rolled back at the stretch of his thick digits, a slight pain cursing through you.

john scissored his fingers stretching your walls further before he went back to pumping them at a quick pace. he plunged them inside you a few more times before pulling slowly out, deciding that you were ready for his cock. you whined pathetically at the loss, needing him so bad.

you lifted your head to look down when you felt his tip nudging at your entrance. he gripped himself, lining up before looking at you again. "ready?"

you immediately nodded your head yes, excited to finally feel his cock inside of you. never breaking eye contact, john carefully pushed his tip inside of your cunt, eliciting a sharp his from you. "you okay?" he asked you with a soft voice. "yes, continue please." you answered breathlessly.

obeying your request, he pushed his hips forward with a swift motion and to your shock he pushed in his whole length. a yelp tore from your throat, followed by a painful cry. it almost was too much for you. his size stretching you walls to their limit, tip pressing against your cervix and the feeling of being this full made you dizzy. "ah- john.”

"told you i couldn’t hold myself back.” he uttered, his dark eyes fixated on your lips.

your walls clamped helplessly around him, trying to get used to his monstrous size and the burning sensation didn’t make it better. "you’re so big.” you cried out in a high pitched tone, eyes shut.

john looked down to where your body’s connected, gritting his teeth and clenching his jaw at the sight. he could feel his dick twitch being squeezed this tight between your perfect velvety walls. he did his best to restrain him, wanting you to get used to him.

but john couldn’t.

he was already too obsessed with being inside of you, the feeling indescribable for him. it was like you were made for only him.

with a groan he pulled his hips back, almost slipping out of your cunt before thrusting his whole length in again, deep and hard.

"oh god!” you sobbed, tears spilling down your cheeks.

"can’t stop myself, you feel too good wrapped around me.” he mumbled as he began to pound into you with a rather fast pace. strangled hisses left your mouth as he began to fuck you, the pain of the stretch still remaining.

to ease your pain, john sneaked his fingers down to your clit, rubbing it in quick circular motions. your legs immediately began to shake at the sudden pleasure, moans and whines escaping your throat. john groaned out shamelessly while getting you into a new position. he grabbed ahold of your leg, pushing it over his shoulders, allowing him to thrust even deeper. "ah-john!!” you almost yelled out, the pleasure and pain mixing perfectly together.

with every harsh thrusts of his hips, your breasts bounced back and forward deliciously, only adding fuel to john’s high. and hell did it approach fast. he was on the verge of cumming already, enjoying the feeling of your sweet walls way too much. with every roll of his fingers, your walls seemed to tighten more and more around him, making it hard for him to hold in his orgasm. his dick twitched uncontrollably, the veins were pulsating with need.

"fuck, i’m gonna cum princess.” he uttered, rubbing your clit faster and increasing the speed of his hips, determined to coax an orgasm out of you. and you felt the coil in your abdomen tighten too. the overwhelming pleasure you received from him, his dick hitting spots you didn’t even know existed perfectly and the stimulation on your clit made you see stars. "i’m close— ah- don’t stop.” you cried out, hands gripping tightly at his back, your nails digging little moons into his skin.

john took this as a sign, using all of his strength to pound into you in an animalistic way, ignoring the jerking of his hips. "now.” he just growled and with a few more harsh strokes and rubs on your clit you were sent to heaven.

the most powerful orgasm you ever experienced hit you like a lightning. your toes curled uncomfortably, legs were quivering and a moan that even pornstars couldn’t keep up with tore from your throat. "JOHN!!” your release triggered john’s even more and with a guttural groan he finally let his seed spurt deep inside of you, filling you up to the brim. he kept thrusting, making sure that every bit of his cum gets pumped inside you. you threw your head back at the overstimulation, body trashing and twitching at the intense assault.

finally, taking a deep breath in, john stopped his movements and released his fingers from your clit, collapsing on top of you. "you did so good, princess.” he mumbled while pressing soft kisses to your cheek.

“that was…” you exhaled deeply. "amazing.” smiling at him. john couldn’t suppress a grin as well, giving a small peck to your lips. your arms were still wrapped around his neck lazily and the feeling of him still buried inside you made this moment even more intimate.

when you looked up at him, you saw a devilish smirk plastered on his face. “but i didn’t get to taste you.” he pointed out, making you chuckle slightly.

“who said you couldn’t do it now?” you smirked at him, accepting his challenge. “you’re so fucking hot.” he just replied before pressing a last kiss to your lips. he carefully slipped his now soft dick out of your hole, eliciting a whine from you.

in the blink of an eye he was settled between your thighs, spreading them widely. he glanced down to your pussy and the sight of it made him hard again. his cum was leaking out of your entrance, slowly dripping down to your ass. he didn’t waste any time, pressing a few messy kisses to your inner thighs before wrapping his lips around your sensitive clit. you mewled out at the sensation, back arching off the couch.

john gathered his cum with his fingers before pushing it inside of you again, wanting you to have all of it. he curled his fingers up, reaching your g- spot immediately as he let them thrust into you rapidly, licking and swirling around your clit in the process.

you were shaking at the overstimulation, it almost felt too much for you. the pressure on your highly sensitive nud made you feel like your whole body was on fire.

john moaned at your taste, lapping at your cunt like a starved man, the vibrations he caused only added to your pleasure. your hands reached out and immediately gripped his raven hair, tugging on it harshly. "john— too much.” a fervent whimper hung in the air mixing with the squelching sounds of your pussy and the heavy scent of sex which made your brain all fuzzy.

“you can take it, doll.” he mumbled against your cunt, eyes connecting with yours as you saw him smirk mischievously. your lip pouted as you registered his words, head tipping back.

his digits rutted into your overstimulated spot with a unmerciful pace, making your orgasm approach quickly. he knew that you were getting closer and closer, your quivering thighs and constant high pitched moans making it obvious to him. john only increased the pace of his tongue flicking against your clit and began to suck firmly, determined to coax another orgasm out of you. the only thing on your mind was john and how good he fucked you with his talented fingers.

john’s free hand made its way up your body, gently caressing your sides before it gripped one of your breasts that was jiggling in sync with his thrusts, massaging and squeezing it.

your whole body was tingling and you were on the verge of cumming, almost reaching your peak. your grip on his hair tightened and you instinctively pushed his head harder against your cunt, thighs clamping around it.

“shit! i’m gonna cum!” you managed to squeal out, voice shaky and rough. john let out an answering groan, letting you know that you were allowed to cum.

for the last time, john sped up his fingers to an inhuman pace and that sent you straight into oblivion. a strangled cry rattled against the walls as you finally orgasmed, your body trashing around at the indescribable experience. he fucked you through your high, wanting you to feel every last spark of pleasure. tears pricked in the corner of your eyes, heavy breaths falling from your lips as you slowly came down from your release.

john now also slowed down his thrusts, mouth releasing your abused clit. he stared up at your fucked out form, proud of the masterpiece he created. after a few more pounds of his digits he carefully pulled out, immediately taking them in his mouth, licking off every bit of your sweet juices that coated them.

your eyes were shut tightly, trying to calm down from the intense orgasm. you felt john moving and when you opened your eyes again he already had you up in bridal style, you didn’t even notice all that as you were still caught in the after waves of your high.

he pressed your body tightly against his chest, his lips kissing your forehead sweetly. “my good girl.” he whispered in your ear as he began to walk out of the living room. “i’m fucking proud of you.”

you hummed in reply, snuggling up against him. “i’m glad we did this.” you mumbled, exhaustedly closing your eyes. john just quietly chuckled out, kissing you again. “let’s get you to bed, princess.”

REQUESTS ARE OPENED<3

[dalekinapaintedparadise]

John Wick + outfits

[texaschainsawmascara]

[magnusedom]

Rina Sawayama as Akira JOHN WICK: CHAPTER 4 (2023) dir. Chad Stahelski

[twistedbloodstain]

I have two ideas for the marquis de framing that I think you’d do great writing!

1: where the reader is interrogating the marquis (meaning she kidnapped him) and through there, they start to get feelings for each other

2: reader (who had a relationship of some sort with the marquis) fakes their death because they couldn’t take the assassin world. The marquis is devastated (lots of angst hehehe). They meet again while the reader is trying to help someone (maybe John, lol)

3: reader who is part of the high table meets the marquis for the first time. Sorta like live at first sight.

vincent de gramont x reader: i could never give you peace | what’s meant to be is supposed to be

plot: the one where he finds you again.

warnings: the reader’s a medic/healer in here SORRYYY…, she knew john from before, he rats her out lolz, kidnapping except vincent doesn’t do it this time..(yay! cuz he forced someone else to do it!!!), anon im so sorry i focused too hard on one part, i will do an extra (i swear)

masterlist

“stay still.” you mumble.

mr. wick lets out a small grunt while you sew his wound back together, nothing too fatal (at least in his standards) but without the help of any anesthesia or alcohol to soothe the pain, the assassin had no choice but to follow.

“don’t worry, it's almost done.” you whisper almost finished with patching up the flesh on his back. “and..there..”

he immediately gets off his seat and reaches for his shirt stationed on a random desk scattered with medical supplies. he digs into his suit jacket and fishes out a coin and hands it over to you, you accept it eagerly and begin cleaning up.

“you need any help with transport?” you inquire while you discard your bloodied gloves and utensils.

“yeah.”

“on your way out turn left and find the guy with a gray jacket. he’s one of winston’s men, he’ll help you out. where are you headed?” you inquire while washing your hands. he hesitantly answers before offering a reply.

“paris.”

“oh.” you stop in your movements and look at him. he stands near the door way all dressed up with blood caking his temples, he still looks rugged and in no shape to do what he has to do in pairs but your opinion likely doesn’t matter to him.

“good luck, i guess.” you mutter.

“you’ve been there.” he says.

“i..have.” you hope he doesn’t press any further.

“what’s in paris?” he questions but doesn’t take a step further.

“for you?” you uneasily say, he doesn’t reply.

“a dangerous man. i..think you’ll die trying just to get what you want, mr. wick. but hey, who knows? maybe, it’s now him.” you explain.

“the guy who had the continental demolished, was it him?” he sternly asks.

“..yes, i think it was him.” you confess, avoiding his eyes.

it had been almost three years since you left that country.

three years since you left him.

you can’t even bear to say his name because if you do, all of it will spill out. how he met you, how kept you and how he loved you. 

he nods, “and for you?”

“an even more dangerous man.”

 ever since mr. wick entered and left your clinic. you've been in a constant state of anxiety. the mere thought and mention of him had you nervous, especially when you heard that he was in new york a few days ago. you thought it was all over, that he found you and was going to rip you from your freedom in this city.

the following news shocked you to your core, the new york continental being demolished was not in your bingo card as to why he’d be here. all because of an excommunicated assassin which you had tended to almost a day after the bombing.

although you’re horrified with the state of events, relief flooded you when you realized he wasn’t there for you. you’d still be safe from him.

but you can’t help but think what all of this means for him. at some point, you know that john wick will kill him, and you somehow played a part in it. you feel a tinge of regret for him but it’s quickly overshadowed with the horrors he’s done and you don’t feel as bad.

he did like you though, when you still worked at france for him as his estate medic. whenever he found himself wounded in the line of fire in an ambush attack, you were the one who tended to his wounds and saw him at his weakest. you don’t know why but a strong sense of trust was established between the two of you.

you thought it to be a friendship but fleeting glances of affection would seep through when you talked or when a large bouquet of flowers suddenly appeared in your clinic after patching him up. 

you toyed with a pin he gave you, his insignia. only he wore it proudly on his coat and truly, it warmed you to him. he did make you feel appreciated, small touches on your back and sometimes fiddling with your hands whenever you sewed his wounds, gave you butterflies in your stomach.

with you he was just…vincent.

soft words and touches with soulful eyes looking into yours, just gentleness and affection present in him. it made you indulge into it too, that he isn’t the cruel man people made him out to be. he isn’t heartless, that’s just how the world is.

a naive perspective.

a perspective that was easily shattered when you’d hear a bloodcurdling scream from the barn, and he walks out with blood on his hands and a disgusted look on his face from his clothes being stained. gunshots echoing beneath the servant’s staircases and thudding bodies being dragged into the secluded forests of the estate. you whisper to yourself those very same words even if all his actions sent chills on your spine.

but the truth of it is that, he is heartless. he is the man people made him out to be and you’re a fool thinking he could be better for you but at the end of the day, he is still the marquis.

it made you think. what if this is all a game to him? what if the moment he finds you uninteresting you become another stain on his suit? 

it’s not a secret that men like him love having delicate pretty things only to break them apart. that’s all you are his current delicate and pretty thing.

you decided to leave. you weren’t staying long enough to find out what would happen to you, feelings be damned when you’re easily replacable to him. you knew that the marquis was like a dog to a bone when he didn’t get the things he wanted, which only pooled fears into your stomach should he find you in new york.

he cannot have you.

you stare at the pin before chucking the pin somewhere in the room, you get up from your chair and begin closing the windows from your clinic.

a knock comes from the door, you chuck the remaining medical materials into a random desk and walk up to the door. wounded assassins aren’t a strange occurrence at this time of the evening but something…felt different.

your gut was telling you to ignore the person on the other side and stay still. you thought that maybe if you didn’t answer the person would go away. wanting to play things safe you don’t mutter a word that would alert them of your presence. it usually worked in some cases.

the knocking persists, much harder and louder now. your hands begins to shake and your eyes start looking around for an emergency firearm to help defend yourself, your actions frantically halt when you hear a voice through the door.

“doc?” a gruff voice asks.

you sight and put a hand on your chest. it’s just john wick. you eagerly open the door to let him in.

“john.” you greet, “come inside.” you invite him as you walk inside.

john doesn’t follow you and a confused expression takes your face, until you take a good look at him. for the first time, john wick doesn’t look wounded to you, his face and hands void of any blood, a new bulletproof suit adorning his body, a french one you notice but it still leaves you questioning things.

“i’m assuming france went successful.” you say.

“…it’s close.” he pauses before replying, seeming as if he’s finding the right words to say.

“what do you need?” you question.

“it’s winston. he’s been shot.” you freeze.

oh dear. you never really approved of the things he did but a soft spot was always present for him and charon. they helped you settle here in new york, but winston took you in even when he knew of your history with vincent. you swore to always help him in ways you could and now the opportunity presented itself.

the car sped down the street with you and john in tow. you hold your medical kit close to your lap, feeling uneasy with the thought of losing the old man. charon had been so recent and you don’t think you bear to lose the friends you’ve made along the way.

you glance at john and he looks calm and composed as usual, eerily so. a week earlier he was calm but you could feel his anger and determination simmering underneath his skin. now it looked like he was taking a walk in a park. you eye him carefully, uneasiness seeping in your stomach.

“did they give it to you?” you ask, he looks at you before clearing his throat.

“just an extension.” he answers, knowing exactly what you were referring to.

“to do what?” you ask again, john doesn’t budge and continues driving, ignoring your question. your eyes stay on him but he doesn’t look at you.

silence settles into the car and you lean back in your seat. you really wish your brought your gun with you right now. you don’t know why but you have a feeling that something is wrong right now, especially with john. he’s not telling you something.

or maybe it really is none of your business. perhaps he wanted to spare the bloody details of how he’s going to win his freedom back. you relax and try to forget the uneasiness, trying to remember that winston is the priority right now, you shut your eyes. all of your fears are gathering together and it’s making you overthink your interaction with john, everything’s okay.

the loud sound of drilling makes you open your eyes, you look at the window and you see a familiar street. 

the new york continental was being rebuilt.

your apprehensiveness returns.

“john?” you look at him once again, “who shot winston?”

“he got hit during the line of fire.” this time he replies.

bullshit. winston would have an emergency plan before the shooting started.

“in new york?” you press.

“yeah.”

another bullshit. you could see through his lies, he’s clearly fresh out of france. what was he trying to do? 

“j-john.” you voice shakes almost as if you’re begging. something happened in france, something that saved both winston and john.

he looks at you with regret in his eyes. not enough to save you for what’s about to come.

“where are you taking me?” you sputter, your heart beating fast in anxiety, “i’ve done nothing but help you, please don’t do this!”

“he took winston with him and he found out.” he quietly defends.

“please help me, i don’t want to go back!” you begin crying, tears rolling down your face, “he’ll kill me!” 

he makes no reply and continues driving. with no hope left with him, you try to open your side of the door. he immediately notices this and grabs your arm trying to stop you from leaving, you begin hitting him with your other arm.

you know that he doesn’t want to do this but it feels so unfair. you’ve saved his life only to throw yours away.

“let go of me!” you scream.

“i’m sorry.” 

you feel a prick in your neck.

you feel a heavy sensation pulling at your leg, your eyes feeling groggy still wanting to keep your lids closed. however the sensation persists and this forces you to open your eyes and sit up.

a dark room welcomes you, only a small lamp helping you take a small look of where you are. specifically, on a plush bed and a decorated room. your body feels heavy  from exhaustion which makes you lean back to the pillow behind you.

pondering what made you feel so tired when you haven’t done much for the night, you’ve sewn back together…a pair of assassins for the night? or was it three? two austrians and…who?a french? no…no..it was winston. 

that’s right.

wait.

only you didn’t treat winston.

you bolt up, your body seemingly sobers from the realization.

john brought you here in exchange for his freedom. 

you look around to see some sort of presence in the room but with the darkness it was hard to tell, nevertheless you hopped off the bed and bolted to the wooden door nearby. no wonder the place looked familiar, only the marquis would have a place as frivolous as this.

you need to leave right now. your hand reaches for the door until you find your body being slammed on the floor. a groan leaves your throat, in pain you massage your forehead and look around.

oh goodness.

a gasp leaves your mouth when you see a chain wrapped around your ankle, you inspect your foot before tracing the lines of chains, which were sourced on the thick foot of the bed you were on.

you tug it to check its strength and to see how long it actually goes. it was long enough to walk around the room but not long enough to reach the door. this is basically your fully furnished torture chamber. 

fuck. fuck. fuck.

a loud creak echoes through the room.

you really hate how things are right now.

he’s going to kill you. kill you for leaving him, how you easily made him look humiliated for being abandoned.

feeling your knees weaken you sit back on the bed and your hands shake in trepidation. the marquis’ simple presence made you scared of him, you felt tears falling down once again and you lowered your head, not wanting to look weak right now.

his footsteps are heard through the room, the door loudly closes shut, a thud echoing. he doesn’t say a word.

you feel everything leave your body. hope,freedom and life mostly.

he walks up to you until you see his shoes on the floor, a blurry sight entering your eyes due to the tears, he touches you, tilting your chin upwards and you do everything not to flinch. was he going to snap your neck?

you look at him and he still looks the same, slightly more mature.

but the same man you met a few years ago, if you jumped back into your rose tinted glasses, you’d probably see the vincent you cherished at some point if you weren’t so frightened right now.

he inspects you, his eyes wandering through your face. searching for something that’s supposed to be there, his lips part almost as if he’s about to say something but you beat him to it.

“i-i’m sorry. i’m sorry.” apologies spill out of your lips, wanting to take the chance of saving yourself, “i-i’m so sorry! i didn’t mean to.” you cry. your hand reaches up to his hand that held your chin and you grip it for mercy, his hold on you weakens.

he doesn’t say anything and leans forward to you. you need him to say something, anything, whether it meant he’d simply say he wants yuu dead.

“please forgive me, just please don’t kil-“ he cuts you off.

with a kiss.

not a firm one but a surprisingly soft kiss on your lips.

he takes your hands into his and fiddles with it, trying to find his place in them just like before, he halts the kiss and leans towards your face. the man right in front of you wasn’t the marquis, it was vincent. 

your vincent.

the one with soft eyes looking at you with relief and adoration. the gaze that looked at you as if you were the most precious thing on earth, he wipes the tears on your cheeks and the next thing he says dissolves all sense of worry out of you.

“i could never hurt you.” he whispers.

author’s note: this kinda doesn’t make sense bc im so braindead rn to expand things but basically vincent finds medic!reader through winston and in exchange for the continental and john’s freedom, john brings medic!reader back to vincent. so basically she got ratted out lolz. this would work better if i made a vincent pov would be fun but i have a bunch of prompts to work on…(tempting) + he literally chained her down to him (hshshsh marriage allegory…) i kinda want to be funky dynamic of obsessed man + “ngl what’s wrong with this guy but i vibe with it” woman

[chiefnooniensingh]

John Wick + “Yeah”.

John Wick (2014) John Wick Chapter 2 (2017) John Wick Chapter 3 Parabellum (2019) John Wick Chapter 4 (2023) - Final Trailer

[medli20]

I animated my favorite scene from John Wick 4.

[chiffxna]

A Love Too Dark (07)

The Marquis Vincent de Gramont x Reader

Chapter 07: Control Over Her

WARNING: THIS IS A DARK FIC.

This story will contain 18+ mature themes, blackmail, forced kissing, dark romance, toxic behaviour, blood, violence, stalking, manipulation, a lot of smut, dubious consent, non-consensual content, non-consensual creampie, breeding, yandere Marquis de Gramont, power play, and power imbalance, obsession, dark Marquis de Gramont, and abuse of power. The list will be added more as the story progresses. Minors, don't read.

Story Masterlist

PREV : Chapter 06

NEXT : Chapter 08

Chapter Summary:

The Marquis finally coerced her to return to the casino. However, what would happen when a VIP requested her service privately?

As the first rays of dawn filtered through the curtains, the room was bathed in a soft, golden glow. Yn’s eyes flickered open, and for a fleeting second, peace washed over her. She could almost forget. Almost. But reality crashed in swiftly, the weight of it smothering the brief tranquility. The Marquis lay behind her, his arm draped across her like a chain.

Her heart sank.

The air felt thick, oppressive, as though his mere presence poisoned every breath she took. She shifted slowly, careful not to stir him. Her body, stiff with discomfort, recoiled from the memory of the night before. Silently, she slipped from the bed.

Standing, she fought the urge to shudder.

She wandered to the window. Parting the curtains just a fraction, she gazed out at the morning sky. It was beautiful. Pale streaks of pink and orange bled into the horizon. But her heart, heavy with turmoil, barely registered the view.

A glance back at the bed. He was still asleep. Her resentment flared like a slow-burning fire. She despised him – his power over her, his manipulation, his arrogance. He had taken everything. Her freedom. Her choices.

But she couldn't show it. Not yet. Any slip, any sign of defiance, and it would spell disaster. Not just for her, but for her family. The consequences were too great, the stakes too high. So, she swallowed her anger.

With a deep breath, she got ready for the day. Quietly, she gathered her things. Slipping out of the room, Yn left the Marquis behind. She knew better than to wake him. For now, she had to bide her time and wait for the right moment to make her move. Today was not that day. He was dangerous, too cunning to make a mistake around. She couldn't afford to let her guard down.

First, she went to check on Sydney. She found her younger sister still wrapped in her blanket, a soft smile on her face, caught in a happy dream. Yn lingered for a moment. That innocent smile – it was the one thing in her life that gave her hope. She quietly closed the door and moved to the kitchen to prepare breakfast.

The scent of eggs and toast filled the small apartment, and soon enough, Sydney emerged from her room, eyes bleary but filled with that sweet, childlike innocence Yn was so desperate to protect.

“Good morning, sissy!” Sydney chirped, rubbing her eyes as she padded into the kitchen, her face lighting up at the smell of food.

“Morning, sweetie,” Yn replied, forcing a smile.

As she set the plates on the table, she hesitated. What about the Marquis? Part of her wanted to leave him out, to send a silent message that she wouldn’t be controlled, that she still had some semblance of power in her own home. But the fear crept back in. The consequences of such defiance? They were too high.

With a deep sigh, Yn set a third plate for him. Her stomach twisted in knots as she did so. Sydney cocked her head to the side and asked innocently, “Is the prince still with us?”

The title her sister used cutting through her like a blade. Prince? The very word dripped with irony. There was nothing princely about him – at least not in the way a child would think. But how could she explain that to Sydney? She couldn’t shatter her illusions, not yet.

Yn mustered a weak smile, choosing her words carefully. “Yes, Syd. He’s our guest.”

Sydney beamed, seemingly satisfied with that answer, and returned to her breakfast, blissfully unaware of the storm that churned beneath the surface. Yn, however, couldn’t shake the unease. It sat in her chest like a stone, heavy and unmoving. She kept her movements steady, trying to appear calm, though every second felt like the tension in the room was growing, thickening the air around her.

Then, after what felt like an eternity, the Marquis finally emerged from the bedroom.

The room seemed to shrink as his presence filled it. Yn's heart kicked against her ribs. He moved with a lazy confidence, the kind that only came from someone who knew they held all the power. Carelessly unbuttoned at the collar, his white shirt revealed a glimpse of his chest. Black pants hung perfectly on his tall frame, and though his hair was slightly tousled, it was clear he had paid just enough attention to his appearance.

Dominance. That was the only word to describe it. His mere presence dominated the space, like gravity itself had shifted in his direction.

“Good morning,” he said, his voice smooth, dripping with the ease of someone who had slept well. He slid into a chair, his gaze landing briefly on Yn before settling on Sydney.

“Good morning, prince!” Sydney greeted with a radiant grin, utterly oblivious to the undercurrents swirling around her.

“Morning,” Yn murmured, barely above a whisper, her voice tight in her throat. She couldn’t bring herself to meet his gaze.

In her usual way, Sydney broke the silence with her innocent questions, her curiosity bubbling over. “Did you have a nice sleep?”

The Marquis chuckled softly. He looked at Sydney with an almost amused glint in his eye. “Yes, little mademoiselle. Your sister was very welcoming and hospitable.”

His tone dripped with layers of meaning that only Yn could detect.

She stiffened. It took everything in her to keep her face blank and her hands from trembling as she reached for a glass of water. She knew exactly what he was doing – asserting his power in front of Sydney, weaving his control into even the most innocent of moments.

But Sydney didn’t notice. She giggled and her eyes shone with pride. “Sissy is the best! She always makes sure everything’s perfect.”

“Indeed,” the Marquis said smoothly, his gaze sliding back to Yn, a knowing smirk tugging at his lips. “She takes great care of me.”

Yn swallowed hard; her throat dry. She wanted to scream. Wanted to throw something, tell him to leave and never come back. But she couldn’t. Not yet. The walls were closing in, and Sydney’s bright face kept her anchored. It kept her from breaking.

Once he swallowed a spoonful of his breakfast, the Marquis continued, his voice smooth and calculated. “But it saddens me to see you two live like this. If you want, you and your sister are welcome to stay at my mansion anytime you like.”

Yn’s stomach twisted at his words. She knew exactly what he was doing. An invitation wrapped in the guise of kindness, but the truth lay beneath it: control. Her gaze shot to him, sharp and full of warning. Her glare was meant to send a message, to make him understand that bringing Sydney into his world was out of the question.

But the Marquis merely smiled, his eyes locking onto hers with a dangerous glint. A challenge. He saw her resistance, and it only seemed to amuse him.

The rest of breakfast dragged on. Yn kept her responses short, barely offering more than a nod or a non-committal hum. She needed to keep her distance, both physically and emotionally. The last thing she could afford was to be drawn into his web, no matter how alluring his offers sounded.

But Sydney, completely unaware of the tension swirling between the adults, hung on the Marquis’s every word. Her wide, innocent eyes sparkled as he told stories of grand halls, gardens that stretched for acres, and rooms filled with treasures. Yn could see the excitement building in her sister, making her stomach churn even more.

She clenched her fists under the table, fighting the frustration and helplessness bubbling inside. How could she protect Sydney from the Marquis’s influence without revealing too much? If she spoke out, if she showed even a hint of defiance, he could retaliate. And she couldn’t risk that. Not when they were so deeply entwined in his game.

So, she smiled. She pretended. Just like she always did.

As breakfast ended, the Marquis dabbed his mouth with a napkin, his movements slow and deliberate. He leaned back in his chair, eyes never leaving Yn. “Thank you for the breakfast.”

Yn nodded stiffly, not trusting herself to speak. She kept her eyes down, focusing on clearing the plates.

The atmosphere in the small apartment shifted abruptly as a series of muffled knocks echoed through the narrow hallway. The sound was soft, almost hesitant, yet it carried a weight that set Yn’s nerves on edge. It was the kind of knock that didn’t belong on a quiet morning like this.

The Marquis’s brow arched as his attention flicked toward the door. A flicker of something – curiosity or annoyance – passed over his face before he muttered in his low, accented voice, “It must be him.”

Something in the way he said it, the ease with which the words fell, made Yn’s skin crawl. He rose smoothly from his chair, his movements fluid, his clothing draping elegantly over his tall frame.

Yn’s eyes followed him, her heart pounding in her chest. She didn’t like this. Not one bit. Who was it? What did they want?

She instinctively moved closer to Sydney, placing a protective hand on her sister’s shoulder. Sydney, oblivious, was still humming softly to herself, engrossed in her teddy bear.

The Marquis reached the door and turned the handle. Standing on the other side was Chidi, the Marquis’s loyal bodyguard. His expression, as always, was unreadable. Stoic. The man was built like a fortress, solid and imposing, yet his movements were precise and controlled. Even now, his posture spoke volumes – ready, alert, as though prepared for whatever threat might come his way.

The Marquis exchanged hushed words with Chidi in rapid French. Yn strained to catch even a sliver of their conversation, her ears almost aching with the effort to understand. But the language barrier left her feeling helpless. What were they discussing?

As the conversation between the two men came to an end, the Marquis turned his gaze back toward Yn and Sydney. His eyes lingered on Yn a moment too long. It made her skin crawl.

“I’m afraid I must take my leave,” he said.

Before Yn could fully comprehend what was happening, the Marquis closed the distance between them in just a few strides. His sudden approach caught her off guard, and for a moment, she stood frozen, her body stiff with uncertainty. She didn’t know what to expect. But the look in his eyes told her it wouldn’t be good.

And it wasn’t.

In one swift, shocking move, he leaned down and pressed his lips to hers. The kiss was brief, but it caught her off guard. It wasn’t affection – it was possession. Pure and simple. A calculated display of dominance that sent an icy chill down her spine.

Yn’s entire body tensed, her hands trembling at her sides. It was over as quickly as it had begun, but the stain of it lingered on her lips, filling her with revulsion.

As he pulled away, his eyes locked onto hers, a satisfied smirk curling at the edges of his mouth.

“Don’t forget about tonight,” he murmured, his voice low and laced with a menace that made her skin crawl.

Yn’s heart stuttered in her chest as his words sank in. Tonight. She knew exactly what he meant. The reminder slammed into her like a blow. The casino. The bunny-girl costume.

Without waiting for a response, he turned on his heel and left the apartment, the door clicking shut behind him. His departure left a vacuum, an uncomfortable emptiness that filled the room, thick and suffocating. The air felt heavier. Everything did.

Yn stood there; still, her mind racing to catch up with the flood of emotions that had overwhelmed her. Fear. Anger. Helplessness. And beneath it all, a burning desire to break free. But how? She couldn’t see a way out. Not yet. Not with the Marquis holding all the cards. Not with her mother and Sydney to protect.

Unaware of the tension swirling around her, Sydney looked up at Yn with wide, innocent eyes. “Is the prince coming back, sissy?”

Yn forced a weak smile, which felt more like a grimace beneath the surface. “I’m not sure, sweetie. But for now, let’s... go back to normal, okay?”

Normal. The word tasted bitter on her tongue. What was normal anymore? Their lives had been upended, twisted into something unrecognizable since the Marquis had forced his way into it. But for Sydney’s sake, she had to pretend. Keep the darkness at bay just a little longer.

She took Sydney to the park that afternoon. They laughed and played, and for brief moments, Yn lost herself in Sydney’s joy. Her little sister’s laughter was like a balm, easing the raw fear gnawing at her insides. But even then, the weight of what awaited her that evening hung over her like a storm cloud, casting a shadow over every smile, every carefree moment.

As the sun dipped lower, casting the sky in hues of orange and pink, Yn’s heart began to race. She had to return to the casino. The Marquis’s demand weighed heavy on her, pulling her back into that world she had fought so hard to escape. But there was no running from it now – not with her mother’s safety on the line.

Back at the apartment, Yn prepared dinner, her hands moving mechanically. She couldn’t let Sydney see her anxiety, couldn’t let her little sister feel the weight of the impending night. Sydney, so innocent, didn’t deserve any of this.

Once dinner was done, Yn excused herself and stepped into the bedroom to make a call. Yn called Barbara again, asking her to care for Sydney for the night. Barbara was surprised since it had been a while since she needed this kind of help. When she asked Yn what she would do that evening, Yn said she had some personal business to attend to.

Once Sydney was settled in with Barbara, Yn finally left the apartment. The evening air was cool and refreshing as she made her way towards the casino. As she approached the imposing building, she took a deep breath, trying to steady her nerves.

As Yn entered the staff lounge room, every staff member was dumbstruck to see her. The news of her supposed resignation had spread like wildfire, and her reappearance was met with astonishment and curiosity. Her close friends at work – Emily, Emma, Amelia, and Sophia – rushed to her side, each eager to know what was happening.

Eyes wide with surprise, Emily was the first to speak, “Yn, we thought you had quit! What are you doing here?”

Yn smiled, trying to maintain her composure. She didn't want to reveal too much, so she replied vaguely, “I had some matters to attend to, but I'll be back for a while.”

Emma couldn't hold back her curiosity. “But why did you quit all of a sudden?”

Yn took a moment to collect her thoughts before responding, “I... I had my reasons, but things have changed. I guess I'm not ready to leave just yet.”

Amelia, ever the empathetic one, touched Yn's arm gently, “Are you okay, Yn? Did something happen?”

“It's nothing, really. Just some personal matters to sort out.”

With a knowing glint in her eyes, Sophia tilted her head. “Hmm. Well, you know we've got your back, right? Whatever it is, we're here for you.”

Yn felt a surge of gratitude towards her friends. “Thank you, Sophia. I appreciate it.”

“But you didn't have to come back, though.”

They all turned their gazes to Sabrina, approaching them with her arms crossed over her chest. Her nose was in the air, and she looked at Yn with a condescending stare, as if she were a pest in her way. “We were doing fine here. You should stay on your word about quitting.”

Yn frowned at her sudden display of hostility towards her. Emily was the one who spoke up, “Oh, shut up, Sabrina. You were hoping the Marquis would turn to you after she left?”

Sabrina's face flushed with anger. “Don't be ridiculous, Emily. I think it's strange that Yn suddenly decides to come back after causing such a big scene here.”

Yn's eyes blinked in puzzlement. “A big scene? What?”

Amelia shook her head. “It's nothing, Yn.”

Sophia intervened, trying to smooth things over. “Yeah, don't pay any attention to Sabrina. She's just jealous that you got the Marquis' attention.”

Yn frowned, still not fully understanding what had transpired in her absence. Suddenly feeling guilty that her departure had caused such a stir, she said, “I didn't mean to cause any trouble.”

Emily reassured her, “It's not your fault, Yn. Sabrina is just being petty.”

Sabrina scoffed. “I'm not being petty! I don't like people who make a big fuss and then change their minds. It's annoying.”

Emily looked at Sabrina pointedly. “Yn is entitled to change her mind if she wants to. It's her life and her decision.”

Yn took a deep breath, trying to stay composed. She didn't want to argue with Sabrina, mainly when her mind was preoccupied with the Marquis and her predicament.

“Look, I didn't mean to cause any trouble,” Yn said firmly but calmly. “I have reasons for returning, and I hope you can respect that.”

Sabrina huffed, clearly unsatisfied with Yn's response, but she didn't press further. Instead, she turned on her heel and walked away, muttering under her breath.

The tension eased as Sabrina left, and Emily immediately spoke to her, “Don't mind her, Yn. She's just worried that now you're back, the Marquis will only look at you and not her.”

Sophia said, “Yeah, she was trying hard to get his attention when you were gone.”

Emma apprised Yn, “That first night when we all found out about your resignation, most of us had left after finishing our shift, but Sabrina stayed back, and I saw her try to enter the Marquis' office in her bunny costume. But the bodyguards then yanked her out of the room. It was amusing!”

Yn couldn't help but let out a small chuckle at the image of Sabrina's failed attempt to get the Marquis's attention.

“Well, I guess she's determined,” Yn said, trying to lighten the mood.

Amelia grinned, “Determined or desperate, which one?”

Emily commented, “Desperate.”

Yn shook her head, still finding it hard to believe that her absence had caused such a stir. “I never imagined my resignation would cause so much drama.”

Emily reassuringly touched Yn's shoulder, “Don't worry about it. We're just glad to have you back.”

“Thanks,” Yn said sincerely, feeling a warmth in her heart. She was grateful for her friends' support and understanding.

“Come on, get ready, girl,” said Emily as she pulled Yn towards the latter's previous makeup table, “No one took your desk after you resigned.”

As Yn sat down at her old makeup table, a wave of mixed emotions washed over her. Returning to this space felt strange, surrounded by the soft buzz of chatter and the clatter of heels on the tile. On the one hand, she was grateful for her friends’ warmth and support, as if they were a small lifeline in this oppressive environment. But on the other hand, the weight of the Marquis’s control pressed down on her, heavy and unrelenting. She was back here not by choice but because she had been coerced. She had no way out.

Her fingers moved automatically, picking up the makeup brush and dipping it into powder. She began the process of transforming, painting on the familiar bunny-girl persona like armor. Layer after layer, she covered her natural face with the mask of someone who smiled, laughed, flirted – played the part perfectly. Her friends helped her, zipping up the tight costume, adjusting the fit, and joking lightly to ease the tension.

But none of them could ease what lay in her heart.

Once the makeup was done, Yn stood before the mirror, barely recognizing the woman staring back at her. She looked polished and perfect – precisely how she was expected to look. Yet, beneath it all, she felt hollow.

Emily grinned as she handed Yn a black mask. “Don’t forget this.”

Yn took the mask, its meaning heavier than the simple piece of fabric it was. She tied it around her face, covering her nose and mouth, the final touch of her disguise.

As the soft fabric settled, Yn felt a slight sense of relief. At least with the mask, there was a barrier between her and the invasive eyes that would soon be watching her. But the mask couldn’t protect her from the real danger – the Marquis.

“Let’s go,” Emily said, pulling Yn out of her thoughts and toward the door.

The women left the changing room, their heels clicking against the floor as they made their way into the buzzing, neon-lit heart of the casino. The sound of slot machines, the low murmur of conversation, and the occasional burst of laughter filled the air, but Yn barely registered it. She felt as though she were walking through a fog.

Yn took her place behind the roulette table. The game was already in full swing, and she immediately slipped into her role, spinning the wheel and calling out the results in a practised professional tone.

As Yn presided over the roulette table, her hands moved deftly, spinning the wheel with practised ease. Each spin of the wheel, each call of the winning number, was mechanical. Her mind was somewhere else—locked in a place where the weight of the Marquis's threats loomed large. But she couldn’t let it show. Not here. Not now. She had to stay focused, had to maintain the illusion that everything was under control.

Then, something caught her attention. A man approached, well-dressed in an impeccably tailored suit. His blue eyes were warm, and his dark hair was styled into the kind of cut that spoke of money and power. His smile was genuine and eager, and he touched her shoulder lightly as he approached.

“Yn!” he exclaimed, his voice smooth and confident. “I thought you were done with this place!”

Yn looked up, recognizing him immediately. Mr. Gabriel – a VIP client she had serviced in the private rooms before – one who had always been generous with his tips and polite with his conversation. Unlike many others who frequented the casino, Mr. Gabriel had never crossed a line.

“Mr. Gabriel,” she replied, her smile automatic, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “So nice to see you again. I had my reasons for leaving, but... circumstances changed.”

He nodded in understanding. “Yeah, I’m glad you’re back. I’ve had a few sessions with the other bunny-girls, but... their hands aren’t as skilled as yours.”

Though modest, Yn smiled, her fingers guiding the roulette wheel expertly. A faint blush crept to her cheeks, but she kept her voice humble. “I appreciate the compliment, Mr. Gabriel, but that’s quite an overstatement. The girls here are all very talented.”

He leaned in slightly, lowering his voice in an almost conspiratorial way. “No, no. That’s where you’re wrong. You’re different. You don’t do it for the same reasons as the others.”

His words caught her off guard, and for the first time that night, Yn felt a genuine warmth. “Thank you, sir.”

Mr. Gabriel glanced at the roulette table, realizing he had interrupted her work. His expression shifted to something more apologetic. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to pull you away. I know you’re busy. But, once you're done here, I was hoping you'd join me in the private VIP room... as usual.”

Yn’s eyes blinked. Spending the night with Mr. Gabriel in the VIP room would mean avoiding the Marquis, at least for a while. The thought of not having to face the darkness lurking in the corners of the casino, of spending time with someone respectful, made her feel lighter, even if only temporarily.

The decision was easy.

“Of course,” she replied, her smile widening. “I can meet you after I finish this round.”

Mr. Gabriel grinned, clearly pleased. “Great. I’ll be waiting.”

With a nod, Mr. Gabriel walked away from the roulette table, leaving Yn with a strange relief. She had always found comfort in his presence, knowing he was one of the few clients who treated her with respect. Unlike the more predatory men who haunted the casino's corridors, Mr. Gabriel was safe. Kind. His company meant she could avoid the Marquis for the evening – an escape, however temporary.

As soon as her shift ended, Yn made her way toward the private VIP room, her heels clicking softly against the marble floor. The deeper she ventured into the private section, the louder the sounds became – soft jazz music floating through the air, the murmur of voices, and the faint clink of expensive glasses being filled. The unmistakable smell of cigars, rich and sharp, curled through the hallway.

Yn reached the door and took a deep breath before she entered. As expected, Mr. Gabriel was already inside, seated comfortably in one of the plush chairs. He smiled warmly when he saw her, a lit cigarette hanging between his lips. The smell of burnt tobacco hit her immediately, and her nose wrinkled instinctively, though she quickly masked it with a polite smile.

Mr. Gabriel noticed. His eyes crinkled in an apologetic smile, and he raised one hand slightly.

“Ah, sorry for the smoke,” he said, pulling the cigarette from his mouth and extinguishing it in the nearby ashtray. “I forgot you’re not a fan of cigarettes.”

Yn shook her head, waving it off. “It’s fine, sir. Really.”

She appreciated his thoughtfulness. In her world, that kind of consideration was rare. Most men with his wealth and power didn’t bother with the comfort of others, especially not with the girls who worked here.

Mr. Gabriel’s eyes lingered on her face, unblinking, and for a moment, Yn wondered if she had said something wrong. The sudden silence between them felt thick, almost heavy.

“Yn, if it’s not okay, then it’s not okay,” he said, his voice taking on a quiet seriousness. His gaze remained on her as he settled back into the couch. “If it’s a no, it’s a no. You can be honest when you need to.”

The words hit her with a gentle force, unexpected yet comforting. In a world where her voice was often silenced or ignored, where her boundaries were blurred, his words carried a kind of weight she hadn’t experienced before. She wasn’t just a girl playing a role in front of him – she was a person. And he saw that.

“Thank you,” Yn whispered, her voice softer than intended. She looked away briefly, trying to gather herself, before meeting his eyes again.

Mr Gabriel’s smile returned, his entire demeanour softening at her response. “You’re welcome. In this line of work, you’re expected to please your clients, to ensure they’re satisfied. But your safety – your comfort – should always come first. If something’s wrong, if you ever feel unsafe... say no. Scream it if you have to.”

His words were a balm to the gnawing fear living in her chest for so long. The fear of the Marquis. The fear of what each night could bring. And even though Mr. Gabriel’s kindness couldn’t erase the danger she was still facing, it gave her a slight sense of hope. A reminder that not everyone in this world is cruel.

Yn nodded; her heart full but her voice steady. “I will. Thank you.”

“The smell will linger for a while, sorry about that,” Mr. Gabriel said as he shrugged off his blazer and loosened his necktie. “Now, if you don’t mind, the usual, sweetheart.”

Yn returned his smile, her movements calm and practised. She walked behind the couch where Mr. Gabriel had settled, his white button-up shirt still ideally in place. He seemed to melt into the plush cushions as she positioned herself behind him, her hands gently resting on his shoulders.

With practised ease, Yn began to massage him, her nimble fingers working over the knots of tension in his muscles. Her touch was a careful balance of firmness and gentleness, something she had perfected over time. The soft strains of jazz music filled the room, blending with the low hum of conversation from the far-off casino floor, creating a calm and intimate atmosphere.

Mr. Gabriel sighed, his eyes fluttering closed as he savoured the soothing sensation of her massage. “Hmm, like I said, no other bunny-girl here can massage like you. You’ve got the perfect balance of gentleness and firmness.”

Yn smiled softly at his words, though she focused on her work. “Thank you, sir. I’ve had plenty of practice. Used to massage my mom all the time.”

Mr. Gabriel let out another satisfied hum but soon grew quiet. Yn noticed the change immediately. Though still under her touch, his body felt heavier with the weight of whatever was on his mind.

“Now that you mention it,” he began, his tone laced with frustration, “it stresses me out whenever I think about my daughter.”

Yn’s hands kept moving, but she listened carefully, as always, when he opened up about his personal life. She had come to learn that, beneath Mr. Gabriel’s polished exterior, there was a man weighed down by the complexities of his world.

“She’s become so spoiled,” he continued, shaking his head slightly. “She’s in high school now, and just two hours ago, she called me. She said she was ‘stressed’ and needed money to go on a vacation to South Korea. A five-star hotel, no less. And then she hung up before I could even respond. I don’t know how to reach her anymore.”

Yn's heart went out to him as she massaged his tense shoulders. “That sounds tough, sir. Kids can be quite demanding.”

Mr. Gabriel nodded, his eyes still closed, a slight frown tugging at the corners of his mouth. “I don’t mind helping her. My wife and I always spoiled our little princess. But it’s her attitude now that bothers me. She doesn’t seem to appreciate anything. It’s like I’m just a wallet for her to travel and post pictures on social media. That’s what kids care about these days, right?”

Yn's hands moved lower, working carefully on the tight muscles in his upper back. Her touch was gentle yet firm, as if she could soothe his physical tension and some of the emotional weight he carried.

“Maybe she needs to learn responsibility,” Yn suggested softly. “It’s a hard phase, but one day she’ll understand the value of things. She’ll realize she has to work for what she wants, to be independent.”

Mr. Gabriel let out a deep, weary sigh. “I hope so, Yn. I do. I don’t want her to grow up thinking life’s all about getting what you want handed to you.”

His hand moved to his pocket as he spoke, pulling out a well-worn wallet. He opened it slowly, revealing a photo tucked inside – a picture of his wife. His eyes lingered on the image for a long time.

“Maybe we were at fault for letting her be this way for so long,” he admitted, his voice quieter now, more vulnerable. “But it’s been hard... raising her alone. If my wife were still here, she would’ve known what to do. She was the one with all the wisdom, all the patience.”

Yn glanced at the photo from behind him. She had seen it before during one of their sessions, the warm smile of Mr. Gabriel’s wife staring back from the small square of paper. She already knew the story – how her passing had sent him spiralling into stress, how it had left him trying to balance a high-pressure job and a daughter who didn’t seem to understand the loss they had both endured.

Yn couldn’t help but feel a pang of sympathy for Mr. Gabriel. Losing a loved one was painful enough, but raising a child alone in the wake of that loss? Even harder. She continued to massage his back, her fingers moving in smooth, rhythmic motions, wanting to offer him whatever comfort she could.

“I’m sure she’d be proud of you,” Yn said softly, her voice gentle, trying to encourage him.

Mr. Gabriel smiled, but it was tinged with sadness. “I hope so. I like to think she’d understand how hard I’ve tried.”

Suddenly, he reached into his pocket and pulled out several hundred-dollar bills, placing them on the cushion beside him. Yn blinked, her hands pausing momentarily as she stared at the crisp bills in surprise.

Before she could say anything, Mr. Gabriel glanced back at her with a small, knowing smile. “That’s your tip, sweetheart. You haven’t finished yet, so don’t stop, but I wanted to ensure you had it. As I’ve told you, you’re different from the other girls here. You’re... sincere. It’s rare.”

Yn’s fingers stilled again briefly, a wave of emotion catching her off guard. She hadn’t expected his words to affect her as much as they did. It wasn’t just the money but how he saw her. Really saw her. Beyond the bunny-girl costume, beyond the role she played at the casino. He saw her sincerity, something she had always tried to hold onto, even in a place where people were often reduced to objects, roles, or masks.

Her heart swelled with gratitude, and she let out a soft, appreciative laugh. “Thank you, sir. I don’t know what to say. Your generosity, your kindness – it means a lot to me.”

He nodded; his expression still touched with a quiet sadness. “You deserve it. And thank you... for listening.”

Yn resumed the massage, her hands steady, but her mind wandered. She was moved by Mr. Gabriel’s honesty and willingness to be vulnerable with her. It wasn’t often that her clients opened up like this. Most of them preferred illusion and fantasy. But with Mr. Gabriel, there was a realness that stood out. In rare, intimate moments like these, Yn realized how much she respected the trust he placed in her.

Suddenly, Mr. Gabriel's tone shifted. “Anyway, I hope you don't mind me asking, but... is it true this casino has a new owner?”

Yn’s stomach tightened at the question. The memories of the Marquis de Gramont surfaced like an unwelcome tide, and the chill of his presence seemed to wrap around her even now. But she kept her composure, forcing a calm nod in response.

“Yes, sir. There's been a recent change,” she confirmed, her voice steady despite the unease creeping into her chest.

Mr. Gabriel’s brow furrowed as he leaned back slightly, looking both intrigued and concerned. “Is it true... that the new owner is the Marquis Vincent Bisset de Gramont?”

Yn hesitated. Should she lie? Deflect? She wasn’t sure how much Mr. Gabriel knew about the Marquis, but the truth sat heavy on her tongue. She nodded again. “Yes, it’s him.”

A long, deep sigh escaped Mr. Gabriel. Not one of frustration but one filled with an almost weary caution. He muttered under his breath, “Damn. What does he want here?”

“Do you... know him, sir?” Yn asked, her curiosity getting the better of her. It wasn’t often she asked clients personal questions, but something about this conversation felt different – dangerous.

Mr. Gabriel’s expression darkened further. “I’ve heard of him. He’s... a ghost. Whispers of his name float in certain circles. Rumors, mostly. About his dealings in the underworld. People say he’s tied to things no one wants to talk about.”

Yn’s heart skipped a beat. “What kind of things?”

He shook his head. “No one knows for sure. But it’s bad. Very bad. How he became a Marquis is anyone’s guess. He appeared out of nowhere with money, power, and a title that didn’t make sense. Some say he bought it. Others... say worse.”

Mr. Gabriel’s voice grew darker, more deliberate. “But I’ve heard something else. Something that’s been making waves in the underground. There’s been a... shift. A big one. A high-ranking figure in the criminal world – one of the untouchables – was murdered. By a rogue. And everything started to fall apart. The whole network... it’s crumbling.”

Yn stayed silent, her fingers moving over his shoulders, but slower now. Her mind was miles away, focused on what he was saying. She tried to process it all, but it felt like she was hearing about a world that shouldn’t exist, a world hiding just beneath the surface of her own.

Mr. Gabriel’s eyes narrowed, his tone cautious. “These criminals – they’ll hunt that rogue down. Every last one of them. But here’s the thing, sweetheart... they can’t do it recklessly. If they start acting out in the open, it’ll expose their entire network to the world. They’re everywhere, but they survive by staying in the shadows. That’s their rule.”

“Are they the mafia?” Yn asked, her voice barely above a whisper. She could scarcely believe what she was hearing, but it was the only thing that made sense. The mafia was the only organized crime she’d ever known that worked this way – silent but everywhere.

“Not exactly,” Mr. Gabriel replied, shaking his head slowly. “They’re similar, sure. But what I’m talking about is bigger. More organized. Much more discreet. From what I’ve gathered, they have reached every country. They even have... safe havens.”

“Safe havens?” Yn repeated, her brow furrowing.

He nodded. “There’s a hotel in New York, a lavish place. It’s a sanctuary for hitmen, assassins, and other... members of this underworld. But even that hotel has rules. Strict ones. And if those rules are broken...”

Yn’s hands stilled utterly. Her mind raced, trying to piece everything together. This wasn’t just about the Marquis anymore. It was about something much bigger – something she didn’t fully understand, but she could feel its weight pressing down on her.

Mr. Gabriel's voice dropped even lower, as if sharing a secret meant only for her ears. “Anyway, these people... they want to find the rogue who killed their leader. They want him dead. There's a massive bounty on his head, no doubt. But the higher-ups – they don’t want chaos. So, instead of an all-out hunt, they’ve appointed someone. A judge, jury, and executioner all in one. They call this person the autem imperator.”

Yn’s heart skipped a beat. She didn’t like where this was going. Not at all. She had no idea who or what this autem imperator was, but it sounded like something far beyond her control. And somehow, she could feel it pulling her closer to the man who loomed over her life like a shadow.

Mr. Gabriel continued, his tone grim. “It’s rare. This position. Only appointed when things are desperate. But from what I’ve heard... they’ve chosen someone who rose through the ranks fast. Cruel. Ruthless. But respected. Someone with deep connections, influence, and... a personal army of assassins.”

Yn inhaled sharply, the pieces clicking into place. It couldn’t be. It had to be. Her mind whirled, racing toward the inevitable conclusion.

“And this man,” Mr. Gabriel added, watching her carefully, “is rumoured to have ties to foreign royalty. A Marquis, perhaps.”

A cold dread washed over her. Of course. It was him. It had always been him. The Marquis Vincent Bisset de Gramont – her employer, the man who seemed to slip into every corner of her life, and the one who had made it clear in his subtle, chilling way that she was under his watch.

But she couldn’t believe it. Not fully. There was a part of her that desperately clung to the hope that it was just a wild rumour, some twisted exaggeration passed through hushed voices. Because if it were true – if the Marquis was a powerful figure in the underworld – then she was fucked. She and her family were fucked.

BAM!

The deafening sound of the door crashing against the wall jolted her out of her thoughts. Yn’s heart lurched into her throat as she and Mr. Gabriel whipped their heads toward the entrance. The door, which had been sealed shut just moments before, was now thrown wide open.

The Marquis stormed in, fury radiating from him like heat off a flame. His tall, commanding figure filled the space, cutting through the room with an air that demanded instant obedience. His suit was immaculate, as always, but there was something feral in his expression. His eyes burned with an unsettling combination of rage and cold calculation, and they were locked onto her and Mr. Gabriel.

Behind him, Chidi, his ever-present bodyguard, entered in his usual silent, shadow-like manner. The contrast between the Marquis's explosive energy and Chidi’s controlled, disciplined presence was stark, but both carried an unmistakable sense of danger.

Yn’s breath hitched. The air in the room felt thick and suffocating, and her pulse quickened as the Marquis approached. She had never seen him like this before – so visibly angry. It was terrifying.

Mr. Gabriel stiffened, his earlier calm slipping just a fraction, though his face remained composed. He could feel it, too. This was no ordinary visit.

The Marquis halted just a few feet from them, his presence dominating the room like a storm about to break. Slowly, his arms lifted, resting his knuckles on his hips in a stance that exuded arrogance and control. His eyes were dark, assessing.

“How cute,” he said, his voice cold and mocking, the words dripping with disdain. His gaze flicked from Mr. Gabriel to Yn, like he was toying with them, waiting to see how they’d respond.

Yn’s hands trembled slightly as she withdrew them from Mr. Gabriel’s shoulders. Swallowing her nerves, she tried to keep her voice steady. “Sir... is there anything I can help you with?”

The Marquis’s eyes locked onto hers. His stare was like a blade, sharp and unyielding, filled with a ferocity that sent a cold chill down her spine. His expression had no warmth, only fury simmering beneath the surface – possessive, dangerous, and terrifying.

But then, as suddenly as the rage had flared, the Marquis’s lips twisted into a thin, mocking smile. He leaned in just slightly, his voice curling through the room like smoke, thick with his French accent. “Mon cherie, you have no idea how much you could help me.”

Mr. Gabriel had gone still, his expression carefully composed, but Yn could tell the moment something clicked in his mind. He knew. He finally understood who this man was.

“Marquis,” Mr. Gabriel began, his voice steady, though his eyes remained sharp, measuring. “It’s an honour to meet you, sir…”

“I wasn’t speaking to you,” the Marquis interrupted smoothly, his gaze never leaving Yn. His tone was polite, but the dismissal was apparent.

Mr. Gabriel stiffened, but said nothing further.

Yn’s pulse raced. The Marquis tilted his head, still smiling that cold, predatory smile.

“I must admit,” he said, his voice dark and low, “I find your... dedication to your work fascinating. I didn’t think you would stoop so low.”

Yn’s throat tightened. This wasn’t just anger. It was something more profound – something personal. She wasn’t sure if it was jealousy or control, but she could feel the weight of his possessiveness suffocating her.

Yn swallowed hard, trying to force down the lump in her throat as she gathered her courage to speak. “Sir, please. Mr. Gabriel only requested a simple massage. I’ve known him for a while. He’s always been respectful, nothing more.”

The Marquis's expression tightened, his lips curling into a faint, dismissive smile. Clearly, he had heard her words, but they carried no weight with him. He refused to accept her explanation.

Slowly, he began to move toward her, each step deliberate and heavy with authority.

“Perhaps I’ve been too lenient,” he said, his voice low, almost a purr. His eyes glinted as they bore into hers, the words falling from his lips with an unnerving calm. “I’ve had a business that required my attention. Important matters that couldn’t wait. So, I missed the chance to tell you one important thing before you work.”

Yn’s pulse quickened; her breath shallow as he closed the distance between them. She lowered her gaze to the floor, terrified that meeting his eyes would somehow provoke him further. She could feel the weight of his presence pressing down on her, suffocating.

He continued, his voice taking on an authoritative edge, “I’ve decided on a new... rule. Just for you, ma lapine.”

By the time he reached her, the heat of his body radiated against her skin, and she could feel him standing close – too close. She stared down at the floor, her heart hammering in her chest, not daring to look up.

Then, without warning, his hand slid to her waist, fingers pressing into her side as he pulled her against him possessively. The touch sent a jolt through her, and she gasped softly, the air leaving her lungs in a panicked rush. She stood frozen, the fear and tension twisting inside her like a knot, and all of this unfolded right in front of Mr. Gabriel’s eyes.

“From now on,” the Marquis said, calm and commanding, “you are permanently unavailable to anyone else.”

His hand tightened slightly on her waist, his grip firm but not painful. Just enough to remind her that he controlled her in more ways than one. “If anyone asks for you, you will refuse. No exceptions.”

Yn’s breath caught in her throat. He wasn’t just talking about work. This was a claim, a mark of ownership he placed on her in front of a man she had considered a client, a confidant. She wanted to shrink away, to disappear into the floor, but the Marquis held her in place.

“If anyone questions you,” he continued, his tone dark and final, “tell them my name. If they persist... ask one of my men to handle it. They’ll bring the problem directly to me.”

Her head spun, her body trembling slightly under his touch, but she managed a slight nod, her voice failing her.

Meanwhile, Mr. Gabriel stood frozen, watching the scene unfold, and the blood seemed to drain from his face. Realization hit him like a wall of bricks. The bunny-girl he adored platonically was not just another casino employee. No. She was the Marquis’s sweetheart. The apple of his eye. And now, Mr. Gabriel realized just how grave a mistake it had been to bring her here. But since when? How long had this invisible thread tied her to the Marquis?

The Marquis’s smile was thin, an empty gesture that didn’t reach his cold, calculating eyes. He seemed almost amused by Yn’s compliance, but there was no warmth in his satisfaction – only control. His gaze shifted from her to Mr. Gabriel, who stood stiffly, jaw tight, face struggling to remain neutral.

“I believe we haven’t been formally introduced,” the Marquis began, his voice smooth yet dripping with something far more sinister. His smile remained, but it was a mask. “Your name?”

Gabriel swallowed hard, the weight of the moment pressing down on him like a vice. Slowly, he extended a shaky hand. “It’s Gabriel, sir. A pleasure to meet you.”

The Marquis glanced at the outstretched hand but made no move to take it. Instead, he chuckled softly, the sound dark and mocking. “Is that all? I’m not a fool, Gabriel. We all have a last name. What’s your full name?”

Yn’s heart sank, horror creeping over her. She knew what this meant. If the Marquis learned Gabriel’s full name, if he connected him to any threat or offense – even one unintentional – then Gabriel’s life could be at risk. She could see it in the Marquis’s eyes. He was hunting now, ready to sink his teeth into anything that smelled like a challenge.

Mr. Gabriel hesitated, the fear evident in his eyes. “It’s Gabriel... Accetta.”

The Marquis’s eyes gleamed with something dark, and his lips curled into a mocking smile. “Why do you sound so uncertain, Gabriel? Are you thinking of a different surname? Or perhaps... a fake one?”

Gabriel’s face paled even further. “No, sir. That’s... my name.”

The Marquis stepped forward, closing the space between them. His movements were slow and deliberate, like a predator circling its prey. “You see, I tend to remember names. They mean something, don’t they? They tell a story.”

Yn watched in horror as the Marquis’s eyes bore into Gabriel, dissecting him with every glance. She could feel the shift in the air – the cold, creeping fear that sank more profoundly with every word the Marquis spoke.

Sensing the danger but too deep to back away now, Gabriel forced a weak smile. “I’m just a businessman. Nothing more.”

The Marquis’s smile widened, but it was all teeth now. “Businessman. Yes, I can tell you are. You got a wife?”

Mr. Gabriel's eyes widened, a mixture of fear and confusion flashing across his face as the Marquis’s question caught him off guard. “Yes, sir. But she passed away... a year ago.”

“Ah,” the Marquis nodded slowly, his expression almost thoughtful. “I see. So perhaps you came here tonight seeking... distraction? A little comfort, maybe? I do hope you’re not confusing my sweet darling with something like that.”

Gabriel’s face paled further, and he shook his head quickly, his voice rushed and insistent. “No, sir. I never saw her that way. I’m still very much loyal to my late wife. I refuse to... to be with anyone else.”

The Marquis tilted his head slightly, a smirk curling at the edge of his lips as if Gabriel’s response amused him. “How noble. Loyalty, even in death. I must say, I admire that.”

Gabriel forced a weak smile, unsure if the Marquis’s words were a compliment or another trap.

The Marquis’s smirk grew as he stepped back, his eyes never leaving Gabriel. “I like you, Gabriel Accetta. You have... principles. Please, take a seat. I’ll have another bunny-girl attend to you for that ‘massage.’”

Gabriel’s eyes widened further, and he shook his head, his words spilling out in a rush. “No, thank you, sir. I really must be going. It’s getting late, and I—”

“Nonsense,” the Marquis interrupted, his tone growing firmer, more commanding. “It’s still early. Sit. I have a surprise in mind for you.”

The tension in the air was thick as Gabriel stood frozen for a moment, unsure of what to do, before he reluctantly lowered himself back into the chair.

Yn’s heart raced as the Marquis finally withdrew his hand from her waist, the brief relief she felt vanishing almost immediately when he clasped her hand in his, intertwining their fingers in a possessive grip. His touch was cold and calculated, and she could feel the weight of his control in how he led her toward the door. Chidi, his silent shadow, followed close behind.

As they stepped out of the private VIP room, the atmosphere shifted. The eyes of her fellow bunny-girls were already on her, their gazes sharp and knowing, as if they had seen something – or sensed something – before the Marquis had barged in. Yn felt her cheeks flush under their scrutiny, the weight of their stares almost as heavy as the grip of the Marquis’s hand.

Suddenly, a sharp whistle from the Marquis pierced the air. Yn followed his gaze. Sabrina.

The moment the Marquis whistled, Sabrina’s head turned in his direction, her eyes lighting up with elation and surprise. Without hesitation, she rushed over to him, her steps quick and eager, a flirtatious smile already playing on her lips.

“Yes, sir?” she purred, her voice dripping with playful seduction.

Yn watched, her stomach twisting with an unfamiliar feeling as the Marquis leaned close to Sabrina’s ear, whispering something only she could hear. Sabrina’s eyes widened, her expression shifting from astonishment to something almost like awe, though Yn couldn’t hear the words. But the Marquis’s grip on her hand tightened slightly.

Sabrina giggled softly, a blush creeping across her cheeks as she listened. She once glanced at the door to the private room. Once the Marquis leaned away, she nodded in response.

Sabrina’s eyes flicked briefly to where Yn’s hand was clasped tightly in the Marquis’s. Nevertheless, she purred, “Understood, sir.”

Without another glance at Yn, Sabrina turned and glided past them, heading straight into the private VIP room where Mr. Gabriel sat, likely too stunned to move. The door clicked softly behind her, but not before Yn caught the low, sultry words she offered as she stepped inside. “Good evening, sir. Lean back and settle down. I’ll show you a night of pleasure.”

Yn’s heart twisted. She glanced back at the door, worry bubbling up inside her. Mr. Gabriel didn’t deserve whatever was about to happen.

Before she could dwell on it further, the Marquis’s hand tightened around hers, tugging her forward with an unspoken command. She stumbled slightly but quickly regained her footing as he led her down the hallway without a word, his grip firm and unyielding. Her concern for Gabriel lingered, but the sheer force of the Marquis’s presence demanded all her attention.

The path to his office was a blur of lights and hushed voices, but Yn barely registered any of it. Her thoughts spun in a chaotic whirl as the reality of her situation pressed in from all sides.

Finally, they reached the large oak doors that led to his private space. The Marquis didn’t slow his pace. He pushed open the door and guided her inside.

The door closed behind them with a heavy thud, echoing in the room's silence. Yn’s heart raced as she stood in the centre of the opulent space, the dim lighting casting long shadows across the dark wood and leather furnishings. The air felt heavier here, thick with power and unspoken rules.

The Marquis released her hand, but even without his touch, the weight of his authority lingered between them. He moved purposefully, crossing to the large desk that dominated the room, his back to her as he adjusted something on the surface – papers, perhaps, or some file.

Yn stood frozen, unsure whether to move or speak. The tension was unbearable, her nerves on edge as the silence stretched.

Without turning, the Marquis spoke, his voice calm, but laced with the same possessive edge she had felt all night. “You’re concerned for Mr. Gabriel, I imagine.”

Her heart stuttered in her chest. Of course he had noticed.

“I...” Yn’s voice faltered. She swallowed hard, forcing herself to speak. “He didn’t mean any harm.”

The Marquis finally turned to face her, his dark eyes locking onto hers with an intensity that made her stomach twist. He leaned casually against the desk, his expression unreadable. “He made a mistake by asking you to service him privately.”

“He didn’t know,” Yn responded, her voice trembling slightly, but a spark of indignation stirred inside her. She couldn’t let this go. “You can’t blame him for that.”

The Marquis raised an eyebrow, watching her closely, but Yn pressed on. She could feel the frustration bubbling up – frustration that had been building ever since he’d forced her back into this life. The life she thought she’d left behind.

“You wanted me back here,” she continued, her voice gaining strength as she spoke. “You made me come back, to work as a bunny-girl. Assisting these men – personally attending to them – it’s part of my job. You know that.”

Her pulse quickened, heart pounding as she let the words spill out, each one a small rebellion against the suffocating control he held over her. “I didn’t want this. I never wanted this. But you – you – forced me to return.”

The Marquis’s expression shifted slightly, a flicker of something. Amusement? Annoyance? Whatever it was, it crossed his face. Still, he remained eerily calm. He straightened from the desk, taking a slow, deliberate step toward her.

“I suppose you’re right,” he said, voice smooth but with an edge, making the hairs on the back of Yn’s neck stand on end.

The Marquis’s gaze never wavered. Once he stood close, his hand lifted, fingers gently encircling her neck. Yn’s breath hitched, a jolt of alarm running through her. But he didn’t squeeze. He held her there, as if asserting control over her very existence, over every breath she took.

“But now you know. You’re the only bunny-girl who is off-limits to everyone else,” he stated.

Yn blinked, confusion washing over her features. She whispered, “Why? Why do you want me here? Please tell me the truth.”

The Marquis’s eyes darkened, and he tilted his head slightly, studying her. Yn became painfully aware of how close he was, the scant inches between their bodies. She could feel the heat radiating off him, the subtle scent of his cologne mingling with the charged air. The tension was suffocating, a heavy blanket that pressed down on her, making her heart pound in her chest.

“This,” he said, his tone smooth yet unyielding, “is the safest place for you.”

Her eyes widened. “Safe? From what?”

The Marquis remained silent, his expression inscrutable, though the grip on her neck tightened slightly, not enough to hurt, but just enough to remind her who was in control. Silence stretched between them, thick and heavy, like a dark cloud that swallowed every word before it could be spoken. The room felt colder, and Yn’s skin prickled as she tried to read the unreadable look in his eyes.

Then, without warning, he spoke. “Open your mouth.”

Yn froze, her mind spinning. The command caught her off-guard, and she hesitated, fear bubbling. She could feel the tremor in her own hands, and for a brief moment, she thought of pushing him away, of running. But where would she go? What’s the point?

Slowly, reluctantly, she parted her lips, a small act of submission. The Marquis’s eyes gleamed with satisfaction as he closed the distance, slightly tilting her head to the side. His lips pressed against hers, firm, and then he kissed her, his tongue slipping past her lips, demanding, dominating. She gasped, a soft, muffled sound swallowed by his mouth as he deepened the kiss, his free hand moving to cradle the back of her head, trapping her there.

Her thoughts blurred, a chaotic storm of emotions she couldn’t understand. Panic, defiance, confusion, all mingling together as his tongue explored her mouth, tasting, claiming. Her hands moved to his chest, but whether to push him away or steady herself, even she wasn’t sure. She could feel his heartbeat, slow and steady, a stark contrast to the frantic pace of her own.

Finally, he pulled back, just enough to let her breathe but not enough to create distance. His breath was warm against her lips, and she could see the glint of satisfaction in his eyes, the faint curl of his lips. “As long as you’re here, no one else will ever hurt you.”

Yn’s chest heaved as she struggled to catch her breath, her lips tingling from the force of the kiss.

“I don’t want this,” she whispered, but the words felt weak, fragile. “You don’t understand. I don’t want to be here.”

The Marquis tilted her chin up, forcing her to look into his eyes. “No, you are the one not getting it.”

He released her neck, his fingers trailing down her collarbone, leaving a path of heat in their wake. Yn swallowed, trying to steady herself. His hand slipped away, only to return, fingers curling around hers. He said nothing as he turned, guiding her across the room toward his desk, which dominated his office, dark wood polished to a gleam under the dim lights.

“I’ll make you understand,” he said, his voice steady but with a finality that made her heart sink. There was no room for argument in his tone, no softness that suggested he might relent. As they reached the desk, he pulled her towards it.

“Now,” he continued, his eyes locking onto hers, the command in them unmistakable, “get under the table.”

PREV : Chapter 06

NEXT : Chapter 08

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JOHN WICK: CHAPTER 4 (2023) dir. Chad Stahelski

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That de-escalated quickly

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JOHN WICK: CHAPTER 4 alternative posters