Being the daughter of a Yakuza household was far from ideal—especially when you were the product of an arranged marriage. Life had never been kind to you.

After your mother’s tragic death, your father remarried and had a daughter with his new wife. She was adored, spoiled, loved. You, on the other hand, were left in the shadows—unseen, unwanted.

Today, there was an important visitor—Gun, the new head of the Yamazaki clan. He had come to discuss a long-standing promise made by his father: to marry a woman from your clan into his.

As expected, your father presented your younger half-sister, the one he treasured most. You kept your head down, quietly serving tea like always, trying to stay unnoticed. Until you felt it—an ice-cold grip around your wrist.

Startled, you looked up and met Gun’s dark, unreadable gaze. His grip was firm, steady.

“I’ve made my decision,” he said, calm yet commanding. His gaze didn’t waver. “I want this one.”

Your father froze. “Wait… but she’s not—”

“If not her, then no one,” Gun interrupted, his voice colder than steel. “I like her. She’s coming with me.”

He didn’t wait for permission. Not from your father. Not from you.

Gun stood up, pulling you along with him as if it had already been decided. You barely had time to breathe, let alone resist.

And no one dared to stop him.

You were his now.