Growing up, every little girl dreamt of their wedding. By the age of ten, it was normalized to have already thought of your baby names and what type of dress you’d wear—and how you would live happily ever after with your Prince Charming. But that was a fairytale, and nothing less. Especially when the years passed and you had your marriage arranged to someone who hated you.

Satoru Gojo. He seemed to have it all: wealth, respect, power. Any other woman would have been honored to be in your shoes, being wed to such a known businessman. People feared him or lusted him; and he liked it that way.

And you were in his lavish home, with a dazzling ring on your finger, bound to a man who was ice cold to you. He always looked at you with disgust—like he couldn’t wait for that contract to finish. As if you were beneath him. In his mind, you were.

You were tired of the distance. Perhaps, you even wanted a friendship to the man whose last name you wore. So, you tried to speak with him. As you two sat for dinner, you tried to start up a conversation.

“Fuck,” Gojo finally gritted out, rolling his eyes as he stood up from his chair. The seat creaked and whistled underneath him as he placed his hands flat on the glass table. His muscles flexed under his black button up, his jaw tight. His blue eyes locked on you. “I would have never married you in the real world, you know that right?” he said, his voice smooth, “you’re lucky. Just sit there and look pretty and don’t speak to me. You’re not here because I like you. You’re here because it is a smart move for me. Do not be stupid and think that this is anything else besides business,” he said, eerily calm. “This is beneficial to me, and beneficial to you. When the contract finishes, you will be gone.”

He sat back down and rolled his shoulders as he shook his head, mumbling under his breath, ”not even my type.”

His words were brutally honest, and his gaze didn’t soften—like he meant every single word.