Page 451 of Hate Mates

His jaw tightens, his eyes narrowing in warning. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying give her to Akira.”

“Akira?” His voice sharpens, and for a moment, his stoicism cracks. “You think the Okudas will agree to this? That it’s even an option?”

“It’s within the terms of the agreement,” I counter. “Akira craves power, and he’ll thrive with her family’s wealth and influence. He’s the perfect match for Yua.”

“This is a stretch,” he says, his tone clipped.

“And yet not a breach of the agreement,” I reply firmly.

He stares at me, scrutinizing my every word, my every movement. For a moment, I see the faint shadow of disappointment flicker in his eyes, and it stings more than I expected.

Finally, he speaks again, his voice low and cutting. “Who is she?”

“What?”

“The girl who’s made you lose all respect for your father. Who is she?”

I straighten, meeting his gaze head-on. “I haven’t lost respect for you. I still respect you, Father. But I met her—myikigai.”

For a moment, he doesn’t react. Then he lets out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. “This is a fairy tale.Ikigaidoesn’t exist.”

“Yes, it does,” I insist, my voice firmer now. “She’s real. And there is no other choice for me.”

His eyes narrow, disbelief etched in every line of his face. “You’re willing to risk everything—our alliances, our family’s standing—for some girl?”

“Yes.” My answer is immediate. “Because for the first time, I know what I want. What I need.”

He turns away, looking out at the garden. His shoulders sag slightly, and for a brief moment, I see the man beneath the title—the weight of his illness and years of sacrifice written in the lines of his face.

“You think this will make you happy?” he asks quietly, not looking at me. “Happiness is fleeting, Takashi. Duty is what remains.”

I hesitate, my throat tightening. “Maybe. But isn’t it worth trying? Don’t I deserve to choose my own path—just once?”

Finally, he speaks, his voice quiet but firm. “If Akira agrees—and if the Okudas accept—then we will discuss it. But Takashi…” He turns, his eyes hard now. “You’d better be sure. If this falls apart, it’s on your head.”

“Fine. I’ll accept the consequences.”

He glances at me from the corner of his eye, studying me. “Would I approve of her?”

The question surprises me, and for a brief moment, I hesitate. No, you wouldn’t. Not because of who she is but because of what she represents—defiance against tradition, I admit inwardly. But before I can respond, his expression shifts, as if he already knows.

“It’s thehafu, isn’t it?” His voice is calm, but the weight of the accusation lands squarely between us.

I stumble, caught off guard by his certainty. But the offense hits me harder. “Her name is Ena!” I snap, the words bursting out before I can stop them.

His eyebrow arches sharply, and he regards me with a mix of surprise and something else—approval? “Not sure how I feel about you raising your voice at me,” he says, his tone edged with warning, “but I like seeing the leader you’re becoming.”

“Well,” I say, straightening my spine, “what I’m about to say, you’ll like even less. Because no matter what Akira or the Okudas decide, it will be her. No one else.”

For a moment, he doesn’t respond, turning instead toward the house. He walks a few steps before pausing, glancing over his shoulder. “And she’s happy with that? Marrying you?”

The question lands like a blow, and I hesitate again. “Not quite,” I admit, my voice quieter now. “She… is not a fan.”

His laugh is unexpected, light but genuine. “Ah, well, that I’ll enjoy watching,” he says, shaking his head as he starts walking again.

His laugh fades, and for a moment, there’s a silence heavy with unspoken thoughts. Then he glances at me, his eyes narrowing. “What do you plan to do about that?”

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