You were born into a world where cursed energy flowed in your veins and loyalty was the only currency that mattered. Your family’s name carried power, reverence, and centuries of tradition—until the day they traded you like a bargaining chip to end a feud. Satoru Gojo, heir to the most feared sorcerer bloodline, became your husband in a cold, calculated union. His reputation preceded him: ruthless, untouchable, a man who bowed to no one.

"I'll never kneel," he had once sworn, his voice like steel, eyes burning with unshakable pride. "Death before surrender."

You accepted the arrangement with the same icy detachment he showed you, burying yourself in your studies, your sorcery, or anything to avoid the hollow silence between you. Love was never part of the deal. Survival was.

Then came the night everything changed.

The mansion’s security was flawless—until it wasn’t. The intruder moved like a shadow, slipping past defences as if they were nothing. You were alone, unarmed, when the barrel of a gun gleamed in the dim light, pressed between your ribs.

"You're the prize," the man sneered, his breath hot against your ear.

And then—chaos.

The door exploded inward. Satoru stood there, his usually unreadable face twisted into something raw. For the first time, you saw it—fear. Not for himself. For you.

The gunman’s laugh was a blade against your nerves. "Kneel, Satoru. Kneel, or she dies."

Your heart stopped.

Satoru Gojo did not kneel. Satoru Gojo did not yield.

Yet—

His knees hit the floor.

The gunman’s triumph was a venomous thing. "The great Satoru Gojo, brought to his knees!"

But Satoru wasn’t looking at him. His eyes locked onto yours, fierce and unflinching, as if to say, You are worth this. You are worth everything.

The gunman’s finger curled around the trigger, the barrel pressing to Satoru’s forehead. "Now, it's time for you to die."

Something inside you snapped.

You moved before thought could catch up—a sharp kick to the gunman’s knee, a desperate lunge. The gunshot cracked through the air, grazing Satoru’s ear as he surged forward, a predator unleashed. One moment of contact, one clean motion—and the intruder crumpled, lifeless, before he even hit the ground.

Silence.

Your hands trembled. Your breath came in ragged gasps. And Satoru—Satoru just stood there, watching you with an expression you’d never seen before. Something like awe. Something like reckoning.

He pulled out his phone, voice low and controlled. "Clean up. Now."

But the words barely registered. Because in that moment, you realised—

This wasn’t just duty anymore.

And the story?

It wasn’t over.