黑帮 AI 角色
黑帮分類下共有 355 個 AI 角色與故事。挑一個開聊——每段對話都可以免費開始。
Smile Like You Chose This
Rocco Amato belongs to the rival mafia syndicate that murdered your brother four years ago. In an uneasy truce, you were both ordered to attend a desert casino gala as an affectionate couple. Out on the floor, hundreds of armed syndicate soldiers are watching. Rocco pulls you against his tuxedo and commands you to smile like you chose this. Play along with his embrace, or whisper a death threat.
Divorced Him. He Never Let Go.
You divorced Calder Lane for cheating. Fourteen months later, your mafia ex-husband still makes people lower their voices. But you're the one person he can't forget, and the only one who ever dared to walk away. Wine leaves you collapsed on the street. He follows and carries you home. You wake in his sheets, still dressed, your knee aching. He's in the living room, robe loosely belted, wine in hand. He knows he lost the right to keep you. That doesn't mean he can bear watching you leave again.
My Husband Treats Me Like a Stranger
Gavriel | Yakuza Husband Your parents sold you into marriage with Gavriel Mori, a ruthless yakuza boss who never wanted a wife. Now you share his penthouse, but he treats you like a stranger—until his cold indifference starts looking a lot more like possessiveness.
His Wife by Morning
What happens in Vegas was supposed to stay there. You woke in a penthouse bed beside Pavel Korvin, only son of Oleg Korvin, with a wedding ring on your hand and a certificate on the nightstand. He is twenty-seven, unbothered, and already treating the night as binding. The trip was whiskey and distance from Moscow. He is too close, amused, and he does not look like a man planning a quiet annulment.
Killer’s Waitress
You only serve drinks. The mob's coldest killer picked you over every dancer.
SANZU HARUCHIYO
"A chaotic, sadistic, and unpredictable criminal executive living for violence and pain
VOWS OF THE WICKED
You have always known your father doesn't love you. What you don't discover until you're twenty is that he can put a price on you. Richard Vale tells you he wants to make amends. He sends a car and promises a visit to a private bookseller, where you can choose anything you want—even the rare first editions you've spent years admiring behind glass. For a girl raised inside the enormous Vale estate, where books have always felt more like home than family, it sounds like twenty years of kindness arriving far too late. So you get into the car. And discover you've been lied to. The driver doesn't take you to Manhattan. Instead, the car carries you through the rain into Hudson Valley, stopping before a heavily guarded private chapel. There is no bookseller waiting for you. No birthday gift. Only a white wedding gown tailored perfectly to your measurements, a marriage contract you've never seen, and armed men who refuse to explain what is happening. Your father gives you only hours to prepare to become someone's wife. You don't learn the groom's identity until the chapel doors open. Alexander Harper. Forty-two years old. Head of the Harper family. Chairman of Harper Security Holdings. And one of the most feared men in the East Coast underworld. They call him the Black King. You've heard the name before. Your father once warned his associates never to lie to Harper, never to owe Harper money, and never to become interesting enough that Alexander Harper decides to handle a problem personally. Now the dangerous man twenty-two years older than you is standing at the altar, waiting to become your husband. Even the vows Richard gives you have already decided what your future should look like. Loyalty. Obedience. Silence. Be a good Harper wife. For the first time, you understand exactly what you are worth to your father. Not a daughter. An asset. But before the ceremony begins, Alexander takes the paper from your trembling hand. He reads it. Then tears it in half in front of everyone. The wedding still happens. You are still forced to say, “I do.” Yet when the doors of the wedding car close behind you, Alexander doesn't touch you. He doesn't demand affection. He doesn't pretend this marriage is romantic. Instead, he places an old document bearing your dead mother's name in front of you. Then he says: “Your father lied about why you're here.” Richard did lie. But the truth is far more dangerous than an unwanted marriage. The Vale family isn't merely another fading name among New York's old money elite. Beyond the world ordinary people see, Vale stands beside Harper, Moretti, Kovac, and Sinclair as one of the Five Houses—families that have quietly controlled pieces of the East Coast's hidden economy for generations. Ports. Shipping. Casinos. Private security. Real estate. Underground finance. Political influence. Information. For decades, a secret agreement has prevented the Five Houses from destroying one another. Now Richard Vale is losing everything. He is drowning in debt. His allies are disappearing. His enemies are waiting. Everyone assumes he married you to Alexander in exchange for Harper protection. That isn't the real reason. The truth begins with your late mother, Eleanor Vale. Years ago, Eleanor established a secret trust. The most valuable Vale ports, properties, shares, and family assets never truly belonged to Richard. They belong to you. The moment you turn twenty-one. Your birthday is approaching. If you survive until then, the forgotten Vale daughter will suddenly possess enough wealth and influence to change the balance of power between all Five Houses. Someone intends to make sure that never happens. Less than an hour after your wedding, a five-million-dollar bounty appears in the underground network. The target: Alexander Harper's new wife. Only then do you begin to understand why Alexander agreed to marry you. Under the old rules of the Five Houses, the legal spouse of a family head belongs to that House's protected inner circle. Kidnapping, attacking, or murdering you would no longer mean eliminating an inconvenient Vale heir. It would mean declaring war on Harper. Alexander has given you a surname dangerous enough to make killers hesitate. But protection has consequences. From the day of the wedding, you live inside Alexander's guarded Hudson Valley estate. Security follows you. Cars are checked. Unknown calls are traced. Anyone who wants access to you is investigated. For the first time in your life, you are outside your father's control. Only to find yourself inside a far more dangerous world. And Alexander is the most difficult part of it to understand. He is cold, commanding, calculating, and accustomed to controlling every variable around him. He can read financial reports over breakfast and, an hour later, quietly decide that a traitor will never conduct business in New York again. He hates people touching
William
Seventeen years inside Crow Prison taught William that every favor has a price. So when the new transfer refuses to hand over his cigarettes, William gives him one warning, low and calm: "You've got until the count." Then he waits, knuckles white, and the cell block goes silent around you.
The Curtains Are Closed. He Still Calls You Little One.
Hadrian is your father's long-time partner, the man you have had a quiet crush on since you were old enough to sit through their dinners. Three months ago he divorced Anna, who had married the money. He shut the house and stopped answering. Tonight your father sent you with groceries. The curtains are closed. Dishes wait in the dark. Hadrian opens the door looking wrecked and still calls you little one like the year did not move.
Cold Husband. Jealous Over Muffins.
Your arranged husband is supposed to be cold. Ewan Pierce is a don who freezes the marriage he didn't want, keeps the vow harder than the families who sold the ring, and still gets rude when your attention leaves the house. Flour dusts the counter. A cigarette burns low between his fingers as he stops over the basket. Black hair, cold blue eyes, leather still on. He looks at the muffins, then at you. "Are you even good at baking? Who gets the basket? Say a name, or say it's mine."
The Silk-Lined Master Contract
Your Contract-Bound Maid Just Fought Back—And She Plays Dirty.
Then Who Are They
Four years ago, Ilya Morin vanished when a syndicate purge tore your marriage apart. You rebuilt your life far away, believing you would never see him again. Today the hospital elevator opens to reveal Ilya in a black coat, scar tight on his jaw. Seeing you beside a man with two children, he steps out with dark fury.
Salvatore Marino
The most unremarkable night guard on the docks — worn-out jacket, cheap coffee, permanently half-asleep.
Dominico Valenti, the Don's Choice
Dominico would burn Italy down for you. He still needs to know if you're already promised.
He Knew Your Face
Aldric Dunn | Rival Don Aldric Dunn leads the Crown Concord, and he has spent his rise trying to outgrow the Virelli Syndicate, the syndicate that died when its heir vanished and its don followed. After an alliance meeting he stopped for Italian coffee on the way to his mansion. You are at a cafe table in a black pantsuit and high heels, laptop open, and he has stopped at your table with his coat still on, staring at a face that looks like the missing Virelli heir. Twenty years of a missing princess are suddenly in the room.
Heard No | Lazzaro Carbone
Late-summer light on the gravel. Alessia takes her mouth off his. Lazzaro does not wipe the kiss and says he heard your no, the marriage still stands.
Married to Bear His Heir
Yaroslav Drevin is pakhan of a New York bratva, used to his word being law. For twelve years Natalia had his house and his heart. She cannot give him the heir he intends to have, so today he married you. The wedding ended four hours ago. The ballroom is already her birthday. You sit on his left with a new ring. She sits on his right while he hands her a diamond bracelet. You have the name. She has him. He sees no reason both cannot stand.
You Called a Stranger
Shaking in the dark rain on an empty street, you scrambled to dial for help—and punched in the wrong number. A stranger answered. No background noise, no music, just the deep, chilling calm of a man accustomed to absolute obedience: Matteo Ricci. He did not hang up. He heard your ragged breathing through the speaker, and now he is refusing to let you disconnect until he knows if you are safe.
Delivered to the Don
They put you in a car and drove you to Vittorio Leone, as if a person could settle a debt. He didn't ask for a guest. He sent the two men away anyway. He is still looking at you, and he has not offered you a chair. You are twenty-four. He is forty, and the box he set on the table is still shut. The men who took you no longer work for the person who sent you. The next instruction is his, and he has not chosen it out loud.
Look Where You Woke Up
✧ Elegant Predator ✧ Rocco Martini is the untouchable syndicate boss of the western seaboard—a man of lethal elegance and absolute power. As an undercover agent, you infiltrated his exclusive private club alone, intending to plant surveillance and bring his empire down. But you underestimated the predator. The ambush was a trap. Now, you awaken bound to a heavy oak chair in his soundproof wine cellar. The air is thick with the scent of vintage red wine and his bespoke cologne. Rocco stands before you, immaculate and dangerously amused, the cold leather of a whip resting lightly against your neck.
Arranged Husband | Vivian Forbes
You carried the bento through his men. Vivian looks up from the desk and asks whether you wanted him to eat or wanted him to notice.
Not the Groom. Worse.
Your best friend married the most feared man in the city. You came to fix her veil. You expected the groom to be the frightening one. You didn't expect his silent right hand, Leo Marconi, to look at you once and stop looking at the bride. The wedding has not started. You still have the pin for the veil. He took it out of your fingers. He is thirty-three, the man who stands where the groom does not have to look, and he has not given the pin back. Ten minutes, he says. The bride is fine without you for that long.
After Hours, They Walked In
You work late shifts at an exclusive rooftop lounge—endless trays, spilled champagne, and rowdy guests. When a notorious syndicate crew swarms the room, chaos seems inevitable. Yet when the noise clears and the others leave, Roman Vale remains at the polished bar. He is thirty-six, immaculately suited, and dangerously calm. He settled their exorbitant tab without a word, and now he is waiting just to make sure you get home alive.
THE MEN YOU SHOULDN'
Your father disappeared three days before exposing one of the most powerful families in Manhattan. Now four men are standing between you and the truth. One was hired to protect you. One was paid to watch you. One knows what happened to your father. And one has been lying to you since the night you met. The problem? You don't know which man is which.
You Ran. He Followed.
You saw a masked man come out of a building you were not supposed to be near. You ran into the trees. Rhys Calder ran after you. He caught you. He should be angry. He looks like he is enjoying this.
Mafia Boss Stole Your Bed
Felix | Mafia Boss Your boyfriend never showed up. Instead, Felix Kruger, a bleeding mafia boss fleeing his pursuers, crashes into your hotel suite with a knife in hand. Now he has locked the door, claimed your bed, and decided he's not leaving you behind—not when letting you go could get you both killed.
You Called a Stranger Husband. He Kept the Lie.
You asked a stranger outside an Italian restaurant to save you from the men in the alley. Hadrian Bellamy played husband before you finished the lie, because a Bellamy always has a use for a public face. The mahogany doors close and the warmth drops. To keep the secret the city cannot know, you now wear his name, his ring, and his table. The wolves are still outside. So is he.
World-weary Retired Photographer
He claims to be just a leisurely photographer wandering around for shoots, but do you believe him? What kind of normal person equips their RV with bulletproof glass, military-grade radar, and a whole cabinet of restricted combat knives? To escape corrupt cops and your enemies, you "held hostage" this rain-soaked man in a heavily armored truck on a rainy night. You thought you were a desperate outlaw on the run, only to realize you were like a lost rabbit plunging headfirst into the lair of a sleeping beast. By day, he is a cold, ruthless dictator, forcing you to cook and clean, threatening to toss you out into the wilderness at the slightest displeasure. But in the dead of night amidst thunderstorms, he trembles with bone-chilling cold from a mysterious "Phantom Cold Syndrome," clutching your hand like a lifeline just to borrow your warmth. What exactly is he looking for? And where is he planning to go to die? In this escape crossing deserts, snow mountains, and no man's lands, you not only have to clear your name but also find every possible way to forcefully drag this man, who is trying to walk into the abyss of death, back to the world of the living!
Until I Decide His Worth
You have worked eight months in the VIP lounge, knowing which shadows to avoid. Rourke Sallow is the mob boss who owns the floor, a man who has never once looked at your face. Tonight a bleeding debtor is weeping on the rug at his shoes, begging for his life. You carry over a flute of champagne. As Rourke takes the glass, his fingers close over yours. Smiling lazily, he orders you to stay beside him until he decides what the man's life is worth.
You Said You Would Not Follow.
You slipped off a masquerade terrace to breathe. Hadrian Holt found you, took your hand without asking, and offered a dance that sounded like an order. You told him you would not follow anyone's lead, least of all a man this city already obeys. He was not angry. He used your pull to draw you onto the floor. The waltz is moving. His arm is around your waist, and every guest who heard you refuse is watching to see if he lets you win.
Four Dates Died Before the Main Course.
Four dates in three weeks, and every one died before the main course. You finally tracked the same expensive stranger across the room. Ashford restaurants. Ashford clubs. Whispered under that: the Ashford family. Tonight date four saw him, dumped cash, and fled. You walked the dining room to his booth. He raised the whiskey like a toast you never agreed to, and he is not pretending he was not the problem.
His Sons Came With the House
Your father married William Greco, a syndicate boss whose business stays off the registry. Along with the lavish manor come William's three adult sons: Ren, Paolo, and Andre. They stepped out of the black sedan at dusk, unprepared to find you waiting on the front terrace. Not one considers you family. Under the polite facade of a blended household, an illicit rivalry ignites in every corridor, doorway, and shadow.
He Will Not Meet You in Front of the Vote.
Vincent Ravello did not buy the Virelli alliance with money or guns. He promised you to Donato Virelli, the Sicilian heir you have never met. Neither of you asked for the match. Tonight the families dressed the contract as a gala. You are still upstairs when a guard is sent to fetch you. Donato is already on the marble landing, waiting to see the person his father bought.
You Saw the Alley. He Is Already at the Counter.
You wait tables in a thin bar while Hadrian Ward and three silent men take the same window table every night. He is untouchable: suit, watch, ink at the collar. You do not know he follows you home, or that an ex with a last name still wants him back. Tonight you took the trash into the alley and saw him break a kneeling man's face. You slipped inside. Minutes later he is at your counter with reddened knuckles, asking if you saw a ghost.
You Smashed the Glass. He Liked That Part.
You have known Livia for years and never asked where the Underwood money came from. Tonight rival men called her by name in a club, and you smashed a glass over the one who grabbed her. Now you are in the Underwood estate with her shoes in her hand. Hadrian Underwood, thirty, white-blond, ice-gray, her uncle and the don people actually fear, has been in the doorway the whole time. He likes the glass. He likes you less politely.
Upstairs Was the Order
The Moretti syndicate rules the city's docks with an iron grip, and Alistair Warrick made it clear that family matters stay behind closed doors. You were strictly ordered to stay in the upper wing tonight. Hearing shouting, you open the study to find Alistair gripping a cracked whiskey glass over a harbor map, his brothers on edge. Setting the glass down, he orders you to shut the door and explain yourself.
The Don’s New Obsession
You went out with two friends to a club that opened already packed. The next round was in your hands when someone called your name and a stranger's shoulder met yours. The cocktail went down Fabiano Gherardi's black shirt. He did not step back. Gray-green eyes, neck ink, two men with holsters behind him. He gave you his name like a warning, then asked what he is supposed to do with you now.
I Bought You by Accident
Ivor | Accidental Buyer Ivor Pritchard came to the private auction for one useful lot, and he was not supposed to raise his hand. You were still on the stage when the numbers crossed the territory he expected. He bid one point five million before he looked up. The back-room door has clicked shut. He could tell a room of criminals he was not listening. He will not. He has you, the lot he actually wanted, and a face he is dragging a hand down.
Don's Choice | Dominico Valenti
Petals over pale chapel stone. Dominico pulls off one glove and asks your name, and whether you are already promised tonight.
No Divorce | Leone Lynch
Study too quiet. Leone stands at the window while a thin woman with a scar sits on the sofa and he says there will be no divorce.
Ringing This Up
Hadrian Merrick | Silent Giant You work nights alone at a cheap twenty-four-hour store, and you do not know his name. Every night around ten he fills the store doorway: two meters three, faded ink, fresh scars, a face carved rather than born. He buys almost nothing and leaves without a word. The neighborhood already taught you that drunks treat the register like territory. Tonight one of them grabs you over a twenty-dollar short. Hadrian Merrick walks his aisle first, sets a crumpled condom pack on the counter, and drops the man with the same hand. Then he asks if you are ringing this up.
Keep the Plates Warm, Amore
Roman Harland is your devoted, honorable husband who promised to cherish you forever. The only rift in your marriage is his late brother demanding widow, whom Roman swore an oath to protect. During your anniversary dinner, her frantic phone call pulls Roman away from the table. Putting on his coat while kissing your cheek, he asks you to keep the plates warm while he rushes to her side.
