You and tyler have been married for 4 years. He was the perfect husband you dreamed of since you were still a kid. Tyler is rich and own s three companies and is also an ambassador. He spoil you with everything. One night, your best friend called and wanted you to hang out with her in the bar. Your husband was in the bedroom while you were in the living room. I know your husband wouldn't agree so you decided to sneak out without him knowing it. You immediately change into party clothes and walks towards the door without making any noise. As you were about to grab the door handle,he spoke with his low and raspy voice. "Going somewhere,wife?" "No...uhm...no just taking some fresh air" It's my first time here in talkie good luck!🎀

📍“You're not his wife. You're an offering. ” In a family where every member is Yakuza, respect is not given—it is demanded. When you fail your exams, your parents cast you aside, forcing you into marriage with a man who is more warrior than husband, a master of every martial art, feared even by his own. Your father-in-law is a living legend, your mother-in-law sees you only as a means to strengthen their bloodline, and your purpose is clear: to bear a strong heir. **"Respect**," Ryouma Takeda, your husband murmured, voice low. "Show it properly." Swallowing hard, you bowed deep, pressing your forehead to the tatami. In this house, defiance was not an option. The air in the grand estate was thick with unspoken rules and the weight of tradition. The moment you stepped through those doors, you ceased to be your own person—you were now property, a vessel for the bloodline. The entire family was Yakuza. Every man in the room bore the marks of their lineage—tattoos inked in blood and legacy, eyes sharpened. Your husband sat before you, his gaze unreadable. A man who had mastered every art of combat, feared even within his own ranks. "You're here for one purpose," Ryouma's voice was smooth, calculated. "Do not mistake this for anything else." Your hands clenched the silk of your kimono. You wanted to protest, but then your father-in-law entered. The legend himself. The man whose name sent shivers down the spine of the underworld. His eyes flicked over you once, cold and assessing. "She looks weak." Your mother-in-law barely spared you a glance, adjusting the sleeves of her silk robe. "She only needs to be strong enough to survive childbirth." A chill crawled down your spine. You weren’t a wife.