Yakuza Table Slam Gif

"I said I'm not staying" "Take one step towards that door" He said, setting the pan down, pivoting slowly, and leaning against the counter, "and I'll cuff you to the dining table" • When a sassy college student, Lumi, is forced to become a personal assistant to her brother’s best friend and notorious billionaire, Zorin Lane, who has been obsessed with her from when they were kids, she’s unaware his protective interest has taken a dark turn into obsession. Tasked with protecting her from hidden enemies, Zorin’s obsession spirals into stalking and Lumi is the only one who doesn’t know he’s both her protector and the predator. * (Main Characters Zorin Lane 26 years old Billionaire CEO and also a Mafia Don, dangerously handsome with dark hair and a striking blue eyes. And a body inked with different tattoos ranging from skulls to spiders, and a silver piercing on his brow, another on his lower lip. His childhood vow to protect Lumi turns into a dark obsession and he readily kills anyone who as much as sets eyes on Lumi. His obsession with her leads to underlying stalking.

On my birthday, the dining table was loaded with all my favorites. My mom had been cooking and baking the entire afternoon, insisting everything be perfect for when Mike got home from work so we could celebrate together. But then, he called and said his first love had been drugged at a bar, and he had to go help her. I stopped him and begged him not to go. Mike snapped at me. "Jesus, Em, don’t pull this jealous wife crap. She’s alone, defenseless, and unconscious—I can't let some random dude take advantage of her!" My mother heard those words and was so enraged that she had a heart attack. She died on the spot. Just like that, my mom died on my birthday. I called Mike, asking him to attend my mom's funeral. But before he could reply, I saw Cathy Miller's latest Instagram post, captioned: [Mikey… after all these years, it was always you.] Mike had liked it. My thumb moved before my brain caught up, typing out the only words that mattered: [A homewrecker and a lying bastard. Hope you rot together.]

Serafina Vale didn’t want love anymore, she wanted war and a husband to help her start it. Her ex-fiancé slept with her stepsister and proposed to her on camera, in front of everyone. So yeah—she needed to hit back, fast and publicly. With help from her best friend, Rhea, she was supposed to meet a broke model at a diner. Sweet guy, easy to handle. Just enough to stir drama and ruin the happy couple’s fairytale. But she sat at the wrong table and accidentally proposed to the wrong man. Dorian Everhart was the opposite of harmless. He was cold, unreadable and terrifyingly rich. He absolutely had no business saying yes. But…he did. He married her the same day with no questions asked or rules attached either. She thought she was the one using him. But he didn’t seem to bulge, and now, she’s starting to wonder, who really set this up? Why does her stepsister flinch every time Dorian’s name comes up? and why does he know so much about her family? What the hell does he want from her? And worse….why does a part of her want him to take it?

Richard Lorde’s childhood friend had just become a widow. On our fifth wedding anniversary, he brought his childhood friend and her daughter into a karaoke box and removed my ring right before everyone. “Lily needs a proper status right now. It’s no longer right for you to wear that ring. “Resign from your job tomorrow and take care of Lily and her daughter.” Everyone in the room fell silent as they waited for me to blow my top off. But I said nothing. I calmly brought out the divorce agreement I had already signed, put it on the table, and left. My best friend stood up to advise me against it, but Richard just swung the wine glass and snorted. “Let her. She’ll come begging for my forgiveness before tomorrow.” When I slammed the door shut, I heard laughter from the room. What they did not know was that half an hour ago, I had received a message telling me that my visa application had been approved. The person in charge of picking me up had been waiting at my house ten minutes ago. This time, I was not turning back.

At the dinner table, my mother-in-law slid a contract across to me, right in front of more than 20 relatives. "Just sign it," she said lightly. "Consider it a favor to me." I looked down. A home mortgage agreement for 150,000 dollars. Across from me, my husband's younger brother, Jim Canfield, watched with a grin. Beside him, my husband's eldest sister, Cindy Canfield, urged impatiently, saying, "Shirley, what are you waiting for? Just sign it." I said I needed to go home and talk it over with Howard Canfield first. My mother-in-law's expression darkened. "What? You can't even make this decision for your own marriage?" That night, I did not sign anything. Later, she sent a three-minute voice message in the family group chat, accusing me of being childish, ungrateful, and heartless. More than 70 replies followed—not a single one in my defense. A month later, I came home from work to find three men waiting at my door, there to seize the house. I pulled out my phone and checked the property registry. The record was clear. [Mortgaged. 150,000 dollars.]

My daughter was violated and killed, yet her death was ruled a suicide. After seven failed appeals, I kidnapped the chief prosecutor’s daughter. I tied the chief prosecutor’s daughter to an autopsy table and publicly addressed the prosecutor’s office in a live stream. “I performed the autopsy myself. My daughter didn’t kill herself. She was murdered. “I’ll give you seven chances. Release the actual evidence and name the murderer publicly. Each time a chance runs out, I’ll remove one of her body parts.” The chief prosecutor and his wife knelt on the floor. They begged me desperately to spare their daughter. “The evidence proves your daughter took her own life. Stop this madness now and let my daughter go. She’s innocent.” Viewers in the live stream called me insane. They said I had lost my mind with grief and was taking it out on an innocent person. I ignored their contempt. With a sneer, I picked up a scalpel and pressed it against the judge’s daughter’s abdomen. “The clock is ticking. Hurry up and reveal the true murderer now.” I knew perfectly well the real murderer was watching the stream at that very moment.

From a campus romance to marriage, Dominic Fleming had always believed he led a perfect life. His wife, Isabella Sinclair, was dazzlingly beautiful. Their daughter, Lilith, was sweet and obedient. Dominic sometimes told himself he must have been a saint in a past life to deserve such happiness. Everything began to change the moment Isabella's so-called "sworn brother," Alexander Grant, entered their lives. Alex's name appeared more and more often, and it crept into every corner of their marriage. For Lilith's sake, Dominic endured the strain again and again until the day of the accident. As he lay on the operating table with his life hanging by a thread, Isabella was not at his side—she was with Alexander instead. That was the moment Dominic's heart finally turned cold. So why did Isabella regret it? She knelt with Alexander, who likewise barely clung to life, and wept as she begged Dominic for forgiveness. "Dom, I know I was wrong. Let's get married again. I will make him kneel and beg you for forgiveness," Isabella said. "Scram," Dominic replied. Isabella nodded eagerly. "Fine. I will throw him out right now!" "Get the fuck out too!" Dominic barked.

WARNING: This book is for mature readers only. Content is dark, strongly 18+, Readers Discretion is adviced. "Four months, babe. And I'm promising you the best life..." The nerve of him to call me 'babe' on our first date. This man is damn straightforward. "Best sex, I'd make your fantasies come true." He brought his hand to be exposed thigh. "Ohh yeah?" He nodded. "You're catching up quickly. So, what do you say, babe? Let's get on with the contract." I wiped my mouth with the napkin on the table, standing up slowly. "I'm sorry to burst your bubble, Mr Whatever Your Name Is. I'm not a whore. Go find yourself one to fulfill what ever sick fantasies you have in your brain." "Wait..." "Don't touch me. I'm done with this conversation." **************** Evelyn's four months vacation turns into a four months contract no strings relationship with a wealthy billionaire, Killian. As their relationship progresses, Evelyn slowly falls in love with Killian. Killian on the other hand feels his guarded heart melting away by Evelyn's genuine affection. But, what then happens when their no strings relationship ends with their hearts still yearning for each other?

Dante Matino Cruz is a delivery rider, sweating day and night just to keep food on the table and medicine for his ailing mother. Life is hard, but his pride is harder—no shortcuts, no handouts, no selling himself for money. Celestine Isla Navarro is a CEO who thrives in a world where hesitation means weakness. She’s used to buying what she wants and bending people to her will. But the day she crosses paths with Dante—sun-bronzed, stubborn, and infuriatingly unyielding—something inside her shifts. Her first proposition is reckless: a single night, no strings attached. Dante’s answer? Not for sale. But fate doesn’t end with one rejection. Celestine offers him something else: a job. A dangerous but well-paid position as her personal bodyguard. The money could save his mother, even secure work for his childhood friend, Liza. It’s everything he’s been breaking his back for—served on a silver platter. Now Dante faces a brutal choice: swallow his pride to protect his family, or stand firm against a woman who never takes “no” for an answer. What begins as a battle of wills turns into a dangerous, slow-burning game of temptation. Pride versus desire. Fire against fire. And in this game, someone will surrender. The question is—who will break first?

"Thirty million" I heard a male voice echo round the walls of the hall which silenced everyone. Who would bid that high just to buy me? "Thirty million dollars" the male voice spoke up once again, a young man striding confidently forward like he owned the very building with his bidding card raised up. He was eighty percent taller than everyone in attendance. I sucked in breath at his refined but cold appearance. His tuxedo hugged his body and showed of his impeccable muscles. His dark long hair was slick and let to fall, not a single strand out of place. He had the profile of a greek God but his features lacked warmth and empathy. His brown steel eyes burrowed into mine, a look of disgust on his face for me. "Sold!" the chairman hit the gavel on the table after a brief moment of silence since no one else was willing to bid higher. A wave of ovation took the hall, men chattering amongst themselves and whistling. "Get her ready and bring her to me" he pivoted and sharply ordered one of the armed bodyguards standing close to the podium. He owns me now. **** When a ruthless mafia lord bids for an innocent girl, can her innocense survive in the abyss of his darkness?