Page 60 of Kotori
"And you think I'm not."
"I think you're so focused on tradition and control that you've forgotten she's a person with her own gifts and interests, not just a reflection of family expectations."
He rises from behind his desk with speed that somehow manages to be both elegant and threatening. When he moves around to face me, I have to fight the urge to step back.
"Tradition and control," he repeats thoughtfully. "Interesting perspective from someone who's been in this country for less than a month."
"Long enough to see that you're breaking your daughter's heart."
His voice drops to something intimate and dangerous. "Long enough to believe that your opinion about my daughter's future carries more weight than my understanding of what will actually serve her best."
Heat floods my cheeks. "This is about recognizing talent and nurturing it instead of suppressing it."
Kaito moves closer, close enough that I can smell his expensive cologne and see the way his dark eyes burn with controlled fury. "Or is it about an American teacher who thinks she knows better than the family that employs her?"
"If being an employee means I have to watch you crush your daughter's dreams and say nothing, then maybe we need to reconsider my employment."
"Reconsider your employment," he says slowly. "How interesting. You believe you still have choices."
A chill runs down my spine at his phrasing. Not that I have the option, but that I believe I do. As if my freedom is already an illusion I'm clinging to.
"I'm here by choice," I say, trying to sound more confident than I feel. "And I can leave by choice."
His smile is absolutely devastating and completely cold. "Of course. The door is right there. Feel free to walk through it. I'll even tell my men to stand down." He gestures elegantly toward the exit. "But we both know you won't."
"And why is that?" I challenge, even as uncertainty gnaws at my insides.
"Because you're drawn to this world. To the power. To me." His voice drops lower. "You've felt it since the first day. Thereason you stay isn't fear—it's fascination. You want me to make you come again and again."
His thumb traces my lower lip, and I hate that my pulse jumps at his touch. "That's not why I'm here."
"No? Then walk away. Right now. The door isn't locked." His dark eyes hold mine with absolute certainty. "But we both know you won't. Not because you can't, but because you don't want to."
"By silencing anyone who disagrees with your decisions?"
"By ensuring that everyone in my household understands their proper place." He reaches out to cup my face, thumb tracing along my cheekbone with devastating tenderness. "Including naive young women who mistake cultural difference for cruelty."
His touch burns, and I hate that my body responds even when my mind screams warnings. "Let go of me."
"Why? Because acknowledging your attraction to me makes it harder to pretend you're fighting for noble principles?" His thumb traces across my lower lip. "Or because you're beginning to understand that challenging my authority has consequences?"
"I'm not afraid of you."
"You should be." The words are whispered against my ear as he leans closer. "But more importantly, you should understand that my daughter's education is not subject to your approval. Her future serves purposes beyond your comprehension, and your interference ends now."
"I won't stand by and watch you destroy her potential."
"You will." His grip on my face tightens slightly. "Because you have no choice. Because your place in this household depends on my continued tolerance for your cultural ignorance. And because tomorrow, you're going to learn exactly what happens when you defy me."
The promise in his voice makes ice shoot through my veins. "What does that mean?"
"It means, kotori, that you need education. Traditional education about proper behavior, respectful silence, and the consequences of overstepping boundaries." He releases my face and steps back with that satisfied expression that makes my stomach clench. "Sleep well tonight. Tomorrow's lesson will be comprehensive."
He turns back to his desk as if I've been dismissed, leaving me standing there with my pulse hammering and the terrible understanding that I've just triggered something beyond my ability to control.
Traditional education. Consequences. Lesson.
The words follow me as I flee his study on unsteady legs, their promise echoing through corridors that suddenly feel less like a beautiful home and more like the elaborate chambers of a trap I walked into willingly. And the worst part is the heat still burning between my legs from his touch, the way my traitorous body craves more of his attention even when my mind recognizes the danger.
