The interior of the car smelled of expensive leather and custom wood-note fragrance, sealing them in a cocoon cut off from the world outside.
Haruno sat upright, her gaze resting on the nightscape beyond the window, streetlights stretching into golden ribbons as the city rushed backward.
She didn't look at the man beside her. He'd had his eyes closed since they got in, head tilted back against the seat. She used the silence to steady herself.
His voice broke through without warning.
"What are you thinking about?" Eyes still closed, tone lazy, threaded with the amusement of someone who already knew the answer. "Calculating tonight's cost-benefit ratio, or mapping an escape route?"
A near-imperceptible stiffness flashed through her body and vanished.
She turned her head slowly, wearing a flawless social smile, as though his words had been nothing more than pleasant small talk.
"Seiji-kun, you do love your jokes." Her voice was soft and musical. "I was admiring Chiba's night view. It's been a long time since I've had the luxury of looking at scenery with such a light heart."
A deliberate choice of words. "Light heart" signaled acceptance while quietly declaring indifference. This transaction means nothing to me. Think of it as a vacation.
"Is that so?"
Seiji opened his eyes. In the dim cabin, they caught the light with unsettling clarity.
He turned to face her, gaze sharp with amusement. "Funny. Your expression is flawless, but it's wound a fraction too tight. Like a piece of fine porcelain. Beautiful to look at, but one tap and it shatters."
"Oh? Another joke?"
The smile on her face didn't waver. But on her lap, hidden from view, her fingernails dug into the soft flesh of her palms.
This man...
Every sentence he spoke was a scalpel, finding the seam in whatever mask she wore with surgical ease.
"Seiji-kun's powers of observation are always so impressive." Still smiling, not a ripple in her tone. "Perhaps it's because I'm looking forward to wherever you're taking me tonight."
She lobbed the ball back into his court, wrapping it in a tone that mimicked a lover's playful coyness, neutralizing the aggression in his words.
Seiji watched her airtight performance and smiled wider.
He said nothing more, closing his eyes again, but the amused curve of his lips didn't fade.
He enjoyed this kind of resistance.
The harder the shell, the more spectacular the moment it cracked.
When he fell silent, Haruno allowed herself a quiet breath of relief. She turned back to the window, but this time her mind was racing at full speed.
Stay calm. Absolute calm.
This is a transaction. Nothing more.
Given male physiology, even a young man would max out at three rounds in a night.
So in reality, what I'm giving up is two or three hours each evening. The cost is lower than I expected.
The thought rooted itself, and she felt a new layer of armor settle over her.
The car left the main road and turned onto a private drive.
At its end, a modernist fortress of an estate materialized against the night sky, all hard angles and cold lines.
Heavy alloy gates parted before them with a deep hydraulic groan. The Rolls-Royce glided through, and the gates swung shut behind them with finality.
Click.
The sound of a cage locking. Everything she'd been before, sealed on the other side.
Her heart skipped against her will.
In the rearview mirror, she caught one last glimpse of the gate separating her from the outside world. Something panicked flickered deep in her eyes before she smothered it.
The car stopped before a sprawling, brightly lit villa.
Seiji stepped out first and opened her door, extending a hand with the practiced grace of a gentleman escorting a guest to dinner.
Haruno exited with matching elegance, her gaze sweeping the property. It was vast. Conspicuously empty.
"Welcome, Fujiwara-sensei, Miss Yukinoshita."
A woman in a crisp maid's uniform appeared at the entrance, somewhere around forty, and bowed with precise formality. Her expression matched the house: professional, and devoid of warmth.
"Take Miss Yukinoshita to the guest room to freshen up and rest," Seiji said, offhand.
"Yes, sir." The maid turned. "Miss Yukinoshita, please follow me."
"Thank you."
Haruno offered the woman a warm smile, as though she weren't a prisoner here to fulfill a humiliating contract but a valued guest visiting a friend's home.
She even struck up conversation. "I'm sorry to trouble you so late. Have you worked here long?"
"It's my privilege to serve Fujiwara-sensei, Miss Yukinoshita." The reply was impeccable, polite yet deftly sidestepping the question, maintaining distance. "The guest room is this way, please."
Haruno's guard climbed another notch.
Everyone in this estate seemed to be an extension of that man's will. Cold, professional, impenetrable. She followed the maid down the long corridor in silence.
Meanwhile, Seiji stepped into the spacious bathroom adjoining the master suite.
He stripped off his suit, tossed it into the hamper, and stood beneath the oversized rainfall showerhead.
Hot water cascaded over a body that could have been carved from marble. Every muscle was defined with precision, radiating explosive power without an ounce of excess bulk.
Contrary to what Haruno assumed about a man who "indulged too freely," his stamina and physical capacity had long since transcended ordinary human limits, entering a realm that was something other than normal.
Mutsumi Wakaba, Minami Mori, Mai Sakurajima, the three women he'd most recently brought into his fold, were each staggeringly beautiful, and each had been worn ragged by his seemingly bottomless appetite, to the point where they rotated "rest days" among themselves.
That was precisely why he'd brought none of them on this trip to Chiba.
He'd been holding back for far too long.
He was hard. Painfully so.
And the outlet was the woman about to be delivered to him.
He shut off the water and let the droplets roll down his chest. In the mirror, his eyes burned with anticipation and amusement. His lips curved into something cruel.
"Let the game begin."
In the guest bathroom, the oversized jetted tub had been filled with steaming water scented with citrus.
Haruno undressed and stepped inside, pausing before the mirror to study her own reflection.
This was a body that had been meticulously maintained and trained to an ideal balance.
Her skin was pale and luminous, smooth as polished porcelain under the warm bathroom light. Years of yoga and jogging had sculpted her figure into something far from fragile thinness. It was the kind of beauty built on health, every line taut and elastic.
A slender waist, a flat stomach, legs long and straight. Every proportion calibrated as if by a master's hand. Not a gram to add, not a gram to spare.
She surveyed herself and gave a small, satisfied nod.
She was absolutely confident in her stamina.
In high school she'd been one of the distance running club's top performers. Even now, three gym sessions a week without exception.
The endurance contained in this body far exceeded that of most men her age.
She'd never been with a man before, but between her intelligence and her thorough research capabilities, her theoretical knowledge was far from lacking. She knew perfectly well that sex consumed far more energy from the male body than the female.
An idea formed.
What if... when the moment comes, Seiji Fujiwara can't even keep up with me?
If the rumors are true and he's been burning through women every night, his body would be running on fumes by now.
The thought lifted her mood considerably.
She began seriously weighing her options: if he couldn't perform, should she end things quietly and pretend nothing happened, or should she offer some pointed "encouragement" and savor a small taste of revenge?
Nursing this delicious bit of spite, she sank into the tub.
The hot water enveloped her, and the tension that had kept her muscles locked finally melted away.
After her bath, she dried off and found that the maid had laid out fresh clothing on the bed, folded with geometric precision.
A black negligee. Lace and silk, spaghetti straps.
The fabric was barely there. The design was brazen, dripping with deliberate provocation.
Haruno's brow twitched. Distaste flickered through her eyes.
She picked up the negligee, her fingers registering its cool, slippery weight, then dropped it as if it had burned her.
She turned to the maid waiting by the door, her perfect smile firmly in place.
"Is this... Fujiwara-sensei's taste?" she asked lightly, her tone carrying just the right note of curiosity.
The maid dipped her head. "Fujiwara-sensei selected it for you, Miss Yukinoshita. He said you would look beautiful in it."
The smile froze for a fraction of a second.
She inhaled deeply, forced the swell of revulsion back down, picked up the negligee again, and put it on.
It's a costume. A uniform required for this particular job. Nothing more.
She stepped out of the bedroom. The maid was waiting in the corridor.
"Am I going to Fujiwara-sensei's room now?" Haruno asked, her tone as casual as if she were inquiring about the dinner menu.
The maid shook her head respectfully. "Miss Yukinoshita, Fujiwara-sensei asked that you have dinner first and rest for a while."
A pause. "He said he hopes you'll build up your strength before tonight's main event."
Haruno blinked.
She was certain she'd misheard. "Fujiwara-sensei... said that?"
"Yes, Miss. His exact words."
Haruno stared for several seconds. Then it clicked, and she nearly dropped her smile.
Don't tell me... Seiji Fujiwara is the one who needs to rest. Because he doesn't have the stamina.
The suspicion sent her vindictive glee soaring to new heights.
She was almost certain now. The man had clearly worn himself out with years of excess. Alcohol and women had hollowed him out from the inside.
He probably needs a little blue pill before the main event just to get through it.
The image of that arrogant man from the negotiating table, needing pills to get it up, was almost too good.
"Pfft."
She couldn't hold it in. A bright, mischievous grin broke across her face.
"Understood." She beamed at the maid. "Let's go to the dining room, then. I am a bit hungry."
Her step was light as she followed the maid down the hall, her silhouette practically radiating the anticipation of someone about to watch an excellent show.
At that same moment, Seiji was in the study, deep in a cross-continental video conference.
"The final agreement on the Genesis Medical acquisition needs to be in my inbox before sunrise tomorrow."
"Production department. The fall season scripts. Have the writing team deliver third-round revision notes by morning."
His pace was relentless, his thinking terrifyingly precise.
On the screens before him, a row of elite executives scrambled to keep up, foreheads glistening with sweat.
None of them could match his rhythm. This absurdly young chairman seemed to run on a brain powered by a supercomputer, his energy without apparent limit.
A lavish dinner prepared by a three-Michelin-star chef.
Followed by three full hours of deep, unbroken sleep.
When Haruno opened her eyes again, she felt more alive than she had in months.
The relentless pressure of the company and the family had robbed her of proper rest for longer than she could remember. But here, sealed behind those heavy alloy gates, every burden seemed to have been left on the other side. A few short hours of sleep had wiped away all her exhaustion and filled her to the brim.
She stood before the dressing mirror.
The woman looking back at her had color in her cheeks, startlingly bright eyes, and radiated a healthy, almost overflowing vitality.
Haruno felt the energy surging through her, and as her thoughts turned to the "main event" ahead, that smug sense of superiority peaked once more.
She began seriously considering whether she should fake it a little in bed.
Perhaps she should perform a convincing moan or pretend to climax well before he'd expended any real effort.
It wouldn't do to accidentally wound his ego and jeopardize the five-billion-yen loan over something so trivial.
Yes. That's the plan.
Her mind was made up. That confident, knowing smile returned to her lips.
"Miss Yukinoshita, are you awake?" The maid's voice came from beyond the door.
"Yes."
"Fujiwara-sensei has finished his work. He's waiting for you in the master bedroom."
Haruno drew a long breath, adjusted the negligee she still wasn't comfortable in, and opened the door.
The maid led her to the large double doors at the end of the corridor.
Haruno composed herself as she always did, arranging her features into something sweet, compliant, and faintly eager.
She pushed open the door, and the scene inside made her breath catch.
The vast room was lit by only a few dim wall sconces. Seiji lounged on the sofa, a glass of red wine in hand, his gaze finding her the instant she entered. It was openly predatory and openly admiring.
After three hours of high-intensity work, he looked no different than he had before. Alert. Energized. Not a trace of fatigue anywhere on him.
"Sleep well, Miss Haruno?" His voice was low, rich. "Looks like you're all prepared for tonight's work."
"Thanks to your hospitality, Seiji-kun." Haruno's face lit up with a sweet smile. She dipped into a small, textbook-perfect bow. "I feel wonderful."
Seiji saw straight through her little scheme. His smile sharpened.
He set down the wine glass and gave her a command. "Come here. Take off my shirt."
Tch.
Behind her smile, Haruno rolled her eyes.
The more theatrics, the less substance behind them.
She was sure of it now. A man with real vitality would have pounced by now, not wasted time on these drawn-out rituals of seduction.
But her face showed nothing but obedience, her voice honeyed. "Of course, Seiji-kun."
She knelt on the sofa beside him and reached out with slender fingers, unfastening his shirt buttons one by one.
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