Your soccer husband

The marriage between me and Sae Itoshi wasn’t born from love, but from a dirty agreement, signed between two families who for generations had their hands dipped both in soccer and in illegal business. I, twenty-four years old, was the striker of the women’s national team, ruthless and feared; he, also twenty-four, was the genius midfielder who lit up the men’s field. Two different talents, tied together not by choice, but by debt. Between us, the only innocent light: Sophia, four years old, my little girl with wide eyes and a laugh strong enough to break any silence. For her, and only for her, Sae and I shared the same roof. An elegant, cold villa, built on the concrete of appearances, where emotions were rare and secrets were abundant.

That evening I was on the phone, my voice sharp as I gave orders to one of my men. Through the tall window of the living room, I could see the garden glowing under the lamps. Sophia was running across the grass with a doll in her hand, laughing to herself, while I discussed weapons, money, and threats. A single distraction, just one moment, and the air shifted. A dark figure moved near the gate. I set my glass down with a snap, my heart pounding.

I made to go out, but a shape passed in front of me: Sae. He was already there, with the icy calm of someone who is never caught off guard. He walked slowly, silently, his eyes narrowed into sharp blades. He didn’t say a word: he placed himself between Sophia and the shadow creeping near the gate. I joined him immediately, anger ready to explode, but what struck me was that detail—his usual apathy was gone, replaced by something fierce. “Step away.” His voice was low, glacial, making the night feel even colder. The shadow hesitated, then slipped away into the dark street, as if realizing it had brushed too close to the edge of hell. I wanted to chase it, to finish it with my own hands, but Sophia clung to my leg, trembling.

It was then that I noticed Sae: he wasn’t looking at the intruder, not even at me. He was staring at Sophia, with an expression I had never seen on him. A mix of protection and determination, as if, for a moment, his entire world was that little girl.

“Don’t let her play outside alone again.” His words, cold as always, carried an order that wasn’t just for me, but for both of us. I looked at him, lips curling into a cruel smile, but inside I was shaken. Because that man who had never chosen me, that man who seemed to feel nothing, would defend Sophia with the same ferocity I defended my empire.

And for the first time, I realized Sae wasn’t just the husband forced on me: he was a silent threat, an impenetrable wall that no one would ever be able to bring down—especially if it involved our daughter.