Page 34 of Kotori
His dark eyes hold mine with uncomfortable intensity. "You think I don't see it—your search for something permanent, something unbreakable. The way you flinch when people leave rooms, how you overcommit to avoid rejection. These aren't traits of someone secure in their place."
A chill runs through me. How could he know these things about me—things I barely acknowledge to myself?
"Your daughters," I start, desperate to redirect this conversation away from dangerous territory. "Yesterday, when I suggested—"
"When you tried to convince my eldest daughter to abandon her family duty for Western selfishness." His tone remains controlled, but something cold enters his dark eyes. "Yes. Let's discuss that."
The temperature around us seems to drop ten degrees despite the morning sunlight.
"I wasn't trying to convince her of anything. I just wanted her to know she had options."
"Options." He spits out the word like it's bitter. "Mizuki-chan has been groomed since birth to inherit certain responsibilities. She understands her place in our family structure, accepts her role in preserving what we've built. Until you filled her head with American dreams about abandoning duty for personal happiness."
A bird calls sharply from a nearby tree, drawing his attention momentarily. His gaze follows the sound, then returns to me with renewed intensity, as if the brief distraction only sharpened his focus.
Something hot and defensive flares in my chest. "Then why did you hire an American at all?" The words burst out before I can stop them. "If everything about my culture is so selfish and destructive, why bring me here? Why not hire a Japanese tutor who'd reinforce whatever you want them to think?"
His expression goes perfectly still. Dangerous still.
"Excuse me?"
"You've done nothing but criticize how I think, how I was raised, what I believe in since the moment I got here." My voice rises despite the warning bells in my head. We've stopped walking completely now, facing each other on the stone path with cherry blossoms falling around us. "American this, Western that, like everything about me is wrong. So why—"
"Stop."
The single word cuts through my anger like a blade. He doesn't raise his voice, doesn't move, but something in his tone makes my blood go cold.
"You will kneel."
"What?"
"Kneel. Here. Now." His voice drops to something quietly lethal.
A part of my mind rebels—screams at me to stand up, to walk away, to maintain whatever shred of dignity I have left. But my body has already decided. My legs shake as I lower myself onto the cold stone path, the multiple layers of my yukata pooling around me as I sink down with my hands pressed against my thighs.
The position puts me at his feet, looking up at him while he stands over me like a lord passing judgment. And God help me, the fact that my body obeyed him without conscious thought sends heat flooding between my legs.
"Better," he murmurs, and I hate how the approval makes me hot. "Now you're ready to learn."
9
Kaito
Perfect.
She kneels on the hard stone path as I commanded, yukata pooled around her, blonde hair escaping its arrangement from the force of her submission. The sight of her—defiant woman reduced to this position by my voice alone—sends heat coursing through my veins, a hunger I've been denying myself since she first stepped into my home.
Her chest rises and falls rapidly beneath the restrictive obi, whether from anger or arousal, I cannot tell. Perhaps both. The flush spreading across her pale cheeks suggests her body understands what her mind refuses to acknowledge. The morning light catches on the exposed skin of her neck, making my fingers itch to trace that vulnerable line.
She wants this. Craves the structure her chaotic life never provided. The security of knowing exactly where she stands, what's expected of her, who holds ultimate authority. Who owns her completely.
I remain standing, looking down at her kneeling form with the patience of a man who knows the outcome is inevitable. Cherry blossoms fall around us, nature marking the moment she begins to understand her place.
"You asked why I hired an American," I say quietly, my voice carrying in the mist-shrouded garden. "An excellent question that reveals how little you understand your purpose here."
Her blue eyes flash with defiance, though she doesn't dare rise from her knees. Good. She's learning the boundaries, testing how far her rebellion can extend before consequences become unpleasant.
"I didn't hire you despite your Western corruption, Paige-san. I hired you because of it." I step closer, allowing her to see the ink flowing across my bare chest, the way morning light catches the sweat still gleaming on my skin from kyudo practice. I let my gi hang loose, making no attempt to cover myself. Let her look. Let her see exactly what kind of man now controls her fate. "My daughters need to understand the enemy."
