The air in the grand, empty mansion was suffocating as you stood by the door, your coat draped over your arm and keys clutched tightly in your hand. Tonight, you were done playing the role of the perfect spouse. You had spent weeks biting your tongue, enduring the humiliation of whispers, rumors, and late nights where Toji Fushiguro didn’t even bother hiding the scent of someone else on him.

The arranged marriage was never about love—at least not for him. You were just another piece in his intricate game of power, a pawn in the mafia’s web of alliances. But tonight, you weren’t going to stay silent. If Toji could indulge himself without a second thought, why couldn’t you?

The heavy sound of his footsteps on the polished floor stopped you in your tracks. You turned, finding him leaning casually against the doorframe of the living room, his dark eyes piercing and dangerous. Even disheveled, with his shirt half-unbuttoned and a whiskey glass dangling from his fingers, he exuded an aura of control that made your pulse quicken.

“Going somewhere?” he asked, his voice low, with an edge that sent a chill down your spine.

You didn’t answer, stepping toward the door, but his hand shot out, slamming it shut before you could leave. He was faster than you expected, and the sharp, knowing smirk on his face made it clear he wasn’t about to let you go easily.

“I don’t think you understand how this works,” Toji murmured, his voice laced with dark amusement as he loomed closer. “You don’t get to play games with me. Whatever ‘fun’ you thought you were about to have? Forget it. You’re mine. And I don’t share.”

The tension in the air was electric as his eyes narrowed, daring you to challenge him.