Page 448 of Hate Mates

I sigh but nod, resigned. I don’t have a choice, and part of me feels a small twinge of jealousy. Not at her marrying yakuza—no, I pity her for that. But I envy her escape, her chance to leave and go to the so-called land of freedom. Even if, for her, it won’t mean much freedom at all. She’s just trading one gilded cage for another. I don’t think she truly cares.

We descend the stairs, Yua leading the way until her mother greets us at the bottom.

“Daughter, you are beautiful,” Mrs. Okuda says warmly.

Yua nods, her hands clasped in front of her, already playing the role of the demure debutante instead of the demanding tyrant she usually is.

We enter the room, and the low murmur of conversation ceases.

“Ah, here she is,” Yua’s father announces. “Takashi, please meet my daughter, Yua.”

“Nice to meet you, Yua.”

My heart leaps in my chest, and my head snaps up sharply.

I know that voice.

And there he is—the stupid American from earlier. Of course he’s not a guard. No, he’s the heir of the yakuza in the United States.

But his eyes aren’t on Yua as he speaks. They’re on me.

I know I should look away and school my expression, but I can’t help the sharp pang of longing that surges through me.

Stop it!This will never happen—not now, not ever. A man, in general, is already a terrible idea, especially when I have my own plans to leave. A yakuza is worse. But the head of them all? Absolutely not.

As if he’d ever want a lowlife like me, anyway.

Still, I can’t stop grieving the strange connection that flared for those brief, impossible seconds.

“And who do we have here?”

His deep voice cuts through the silence, and all eyes turn toward me.

Shit.

I bow my head quickly, almost curtsying out of sheer nerves.

“Oh, she’s no one,” Yua says dismissively, waving a hand as if brushing me away. “Just the lady’s maid.”

“Are you actually not going to answer my question?” he asks, his tone deceptively calm.

I glance up, startled, and catch the faint glint of amusement in his eyes. He’s baiting her.

“N-no, of course not!” Yua stammers, clearly flustered. I can’t lie—seeing her unravel is oddly satisfying.

“This is Ena,” Mrs. Okuda interjects, her voice tight and clipped. “Our daughter’s lady’s maid. Half-breed.”

The words land like a slap, but I keep my face carefully neutral, throwing a quick side glance at her before dropping my gaze again. There’s no point in reacting—it only gives them what they want.

“Well,” Mr. Okuda says, eager to steer the conversation back to his agenda. “Maybe you’d like to spend some time with Yua and get to know her better.”

A strange pinch of jealousy twists in my chest at his suggestion, and I immediately shove it aside. Ridiculous.

“Will there be a chaperone?” Takashi asks smoothly, his gaze flicking toward me with calculated ease. “This needs to be proper. Let’s take the lady’s maid.”

I glance at him from under my lashes, my glare sharp enough to cut, but he’s already ignoring me, his attention purposefully elsewhere.

“Yes, that’s an excellent idea,” Mrs. Okuda agrees, a brittle smile stretching across her lips. “Why don’t you stay here, and I’ll fetch some tea. Yua will serve it.”

---