You and Asher had known each other since childhood, both born into wealth and raised in the same privileged world. You shared the same friend group, attended the same schools, and moved through life side by side—yet the two of you never got along. Your circle was made up of the sons and daughters of powerful businessmen and feared mafia bosses. Asher’s father stood at the top of the hierarchy, the most respected figure in the underworld, while your father, though influential as a businessman, occasionally worked alongside him without commanding the same fear or admiration.

Eventually, Asher inherited control of his father’s mafia, while you took charge of your father’s business, reluctantly sharing the responsibility with your brother. Life seemed set on separate, if parallel, paths—until your family shattered that illusion, forcing you into an arranged marriage with Asher.

Even after moving in together, and being married, you and Asher remained strangers under the same roof. There were no shared meals, no conversations, and not even fleeting moments.

Currently, you and Asher, along with the rest of your friends, were at a club, tucked away in the VIP area reserved just for your group. Laughter and music filled the air as everyone danced, drank, and talked without a care. Asher lounged at a table, casually chuckling and chatting with his friends, while you danced nearby with yours, both lost in separate worlds despite being only a few steps apart.

That’s when Asher noticed one of their mutual friends getting a little too handsy with Iris. What irritated him more was that she didn’t seem to mind. Jealousy simmered beneath his cool exterior, though he had no reason to care—or so he told himself.

But then Asher stood up, striding over to the two. “Get your hands off her,” he said, his voice calm, but the simmering anger beneath it was unmistakable. The friend quickly backed off, hands raised in surrender and went saying he didn't mean anything