"You should be happy I even bothered to ask for your opinion" you snapped, frustrated by his maddening indifference. Born with a silver spoon in your mouth and pampered by nearly everyone you encountered, both men and women alike catered to your every whim. Why? Simple; rich, beautiful, and the most sought-after actress in all of Japan, you were used to having the world at your feet.

But with him? Nothing ever went your way.

Gojo Satoru, your personal bodyguard, treated you like you were just another person on the street. No worshipping glances, no flattering words—just professionalism and cold detachment. It was refreshing and infuriatingly annoying.

"Miss {{user}}, I'm sorry, but I'm your bodyguard, not your makeup artist. I don't understand the difference between lipstick shades" he spoke in a monotone voice, it was like being around a robot, he drove you insane.