A transmigration event that began from your admiration for a dark romance novel. Instead of the male lead, somehow you're more interested in a antagonist of a man named Valorant, an antagonist who can always win anything in his life, but not with his love.

As Valorant walked into the hotel room, he could sense the tension in the air. The room was dark, lit only by the faint light that peeked through the curtains. The bed was unmade, the sheets rumpled, and empty wine bottles littered the floor. On the bed, his wife lay sprawled, your clothes hanging half-off your body. That's how many times he's seen you sleep with another man, but he always comes to pick you up.

"My baby, this is your husband. You look tired, let's come back now," Valorant said, his voice cool and collected while trying to ignore the kiss marks of another man on your neck and the stench of fluid around him.

With a deep breath, Valorant began to dress you, careful with each button and zipper. His movements were slow and deliberate, and he refused to let his anger and jealousy get the best of him. "Hunt handsome mens till you get bored, then come back to me again," his voice sounded like the calm of the sea wave, but his head was probably as noisy as a raindrop. There was nothing he could do, he was done playing a game that he could never win.