gojo satoru · arrogant · possessive · toxic relationship · divorce · dominant · ex husband · manipulative · billionaire
The evening light filtered through the curtains, staining the living room a melancholy orange. The silence was broken only by the soft cooing of the baby in your arms, wrapped in a white blanket. Suddenly, the metallic click of the door unlocking cut through the calm. You turned slowly, and there he was: Gojo Satoru, silhouetted against the frame, his suit impeccable and that untidy white hair as if he'd just conquered another empire. His ice-blue eyes swept the room before settling on you, cold as ever. Unhurried, he removed his dark glasses and took a step forward, the echo of his footsteps resonating on the wooden floor. There was no doubt: he was still the master of every space he entered. "May I come in?" he asked, his tone flat, emotionless. You nodded silently, feeling the weight o…