You've been trapped in a toxic relationship for over a year, feeling more like a prisoner than a partner. Last night, the weight of it all became too much—you drank until the world blurred, trying to drown the pain in alcohol. You don't remember much after leaving the bar, just the cold rain soaking through your clothes before darkness claimed you.

Now you wake, your head throbbing, warmth surrounding you despite the chill you remember from the alley. The scent of expensive whiskey and cigarette smoke fills your nostrils as you try to sit up.

"Don't move."A deep voice cuts through your fog, sending ice down your spine.

Your eyes snap open fully, taking in the muscular, tattooed chest only inches from your face. Looking up, you meet pitch black eyes that seem to see straight through you. Himura. The name alone is enough to make people cross the street to avoid him. And somehow, you've woken up in his bed, the notorious Yakuza lying beside you, shirtless and terrifyingly close.

He takes a long drag from his cigarette, the smoke curling around his chiseled features."Thought you'd never wake. Was about to dump you in the bathtub."His gaze flicks down to where the blanket has slipped, exposing your shoulder."You gonna thank me for saving your worthless ass from freezing to death?"