Page 25 of Kotori
"That depends," I say, heart pounding so hard I'm certain he can hear it. "On their purpose. On who might be watching."
He leans back in his chair, studying me with unnerving intensity. "And if I told you their purpose was security? That my family's position necessitates certain precautions?"
"I would question why security cameras are necessary in private bedrooms. In showers." My voice remains steady despite the bold challenge.
"Perhaps you misunderstand your position here, Paige-san." The honorific feels like mockery now. "You reside in my home, under my protection. Everything within these walls belongs to me. Everything."
The implication hangs between us, heavy and undeniable.
"I am not a possession, Matsumoto-sama," I say, pride forcing the words past my lips despite the danger flashing in his eyes.
He rises smoothly, circling the desk with predatory grace. I remain seated, refusing to show fear despite the thundering of my pulse. "Yet you performed so beautifully last night. Like you wanted to be watched. Like you wanted to be desired."
Heat floods my face. He was watching. Exactly as I'd intended, yet the confirmation sends conflicting waves of triumph and mortification through me.
"I wanted to regain some control," I admit, surprising myself with the honesty. "To show that if I'm being watched, it's on my terms."
He stops directly beside my chair, close enough that I can smell his cologne. His hand moves to my hair, lifting a strand between his fingers as if examining fine silk.
"Control," he repeats, amusement coloring the word. "You believe you demonstrated control last night?"
"I—"
"Let me explain something, Paige-san." His fingers slide from my hair to my neck, trailing along my pulse point with feather-light pressure that nonetheless feels like a brand on my skin. "Your little performance was anticipated."
My breath catches. "What?"
"Did you really believe your rebellion was unexpected? That I wouldn't recognize the signs of a captive animal testing its cage?" His thumb traces my jawline, tilting my face up to meet his gaze. "Every act of defiance, every attempt at regaining control—I've seen it all before. I designed the game."
Humiliation burns through me, followed by a wave of something darker, more complex. Not fear, not exactly. Something closer to exhilaration.
"Then why allow it?" I whisper.
His smile deepens, showing teeth. "Because watching you believe you held power, even briefly, was entertaining."
The word cuts deeper than any insult could have. Entertaining. Like I'm a pet performing tricks.
"And now?" I ask, hating the tremor in my voice.
His hand moves to my shoulder, fingers pressing just firmly enough to remind me of his strength. "Now you understand that there is no rebellion I haven't anticipated. No game you can play that I haven't already mastered."
He steps back, breaking contact so suddenly I almost sway forward, seeking the pressure of his touch despite myself.
"The cameras stay," he says, returning to his seat with casual dominance. "Consider them a reminder that in this house, privacy is a privilege, not a right. One that must be earned through absolute compliance."
"I understand, Matsumoto-sama."
"Then understand this as well—your next attempt at rebellion will have consequences. Not punishment. I suspect you might enjoy that too much." His knowing smirk confirms he sees right through me. "But rather, removal of the few freedoms you currently possess."
The threat hangs between us.
"You may go," he dismisses me with a casual wave, already turning his attention to documents on his desk. "The girls are waiting for their lesson."
I rise, bowing automatically before heading to the door. His voice stops me.
"Paige-san."
I turn, finding his eyes still fixed on his paperwork, not bothering to look up at me. "Yes, Matsumoto-sama?"
