Page 39 of Kotori

"Especially when manipulation benefits neither of our families." I gesture toward the gate. "Takeshi will see you out. Please extend my respects to your father."

The Ishida delegation departs with ceremonial formality: bows exchanged, pleasantries offered, threats wrapped in politeness. Once their vehicles clear the gates, I turn to my advisors.

"An enlightening evening," I say conversationally. "I find myself particularly interested in these documents Ishida mentioned. The ones suggesting Matsumoto involvement in a death we had nothing to do with."

Silence stretches between us, heavy with implication.

"Kaito-kun," Hiroshi finally speaks, using the familiar form that he's earned through decades of service but that now sounds like presumption. "I'm sure there's been some misunderstanding."

"No misunderstanding," I interrupt with perfect courtesy.

"Someone created false evidence implicating our family in a murder we didn't commit.

Someone with access to our records, our systems, our private communications.

Someone with the technical skills to create forgeries convincing enough to bring the Ishida heir to our doorstep seeking retribution. "

I let my gaze drift across all three men, noting micro-expressions that tell their own stories. Sato's carefully blank face. Yamada's nervous swallow. Hiroshi's tightly controlled breathing.

" Someone ," I continue, "who stands to benefit from renewed conflict between our families. From the chaos that would follow my removal as head of the Matsumoto-kai."

"Such actions would be unforgivable," Hiroshi says carefully. "A betrayal of everything our organization stands for."

"Indeed they would." I agree. "Which is why I'll be conducting a comprehensive review of all communications, all access logs, all movements over the past three months. Nothing will remain hidden. Nothing will escape scrutiny."

I step closer to them, voice dropping to something intimate and lethal. "And when I discover who orchestrated this manipulation—who endangered not just me, but my children with their ambitions—the consequences will be educational for everyone involved."

The threat hangs in the air between us, unspoken but unmistakable.

"Of course," Hiroshi bows slightly. "When you feel such a review would be most productive."

"I'll begin tonight," I promise, the words carrying weight beyond their surface meaning. "Takeshi will coordinate the investigation personally."

I watch them retreat toward their private residences within the compound, calculation replacing anger in my mind.

Not a confrontation to be handled with immediate violence—something requiring more careful, more thorough correction.

A lesson that needs to be taught not just to the traitor, but to anyone who might consider similar defiance in the future.

I find Takeshi waiting by the main house entrance, his expression revealing nothing.

"Begin surveillance on all three," I instruct quietly. "Communications, meetings, electronic access, everything. I want to know who created those forgeries, who made contact with Ishida, who supported it, and who merely failed to report it."

"Hai, Aniki." Takeshi's eyes narrow slightly. "You believe it was internal?"

"I'm sure. Someone gave Ishida documents that don't exist and manufactured evidence of crimes we didn't commit.

Not just gossip or rumors, but specific evidence designed to trigger specific responses.

" My voice hardens. "Someone is using our rivals to eliminate me while keeping their own hands clean. "

Takeshi nods once, understanding the severity. "I'll begin immediately. Digital forensics first, then physical surveillance."

"And prepare for various outcomes," I add, thinking of what must follow discovery. "The kind that might require creative solutions."

"How long do you want to let this play out?"

"Give them enough rope," I say, thinking of the loyalty test that's becoming increasingly necessary. "Let's see what they do with it. But I want daily reports, regardless of findings."

"And your family, Aniki? Should we increase security?"

"Double the guards on the west wing. Add monitoring to all approaches.

No one enters without my explicit approval.

" I feel the weight of sixteen generations of leadership settling across my shoulders.

The ancestors watching, judging whether I'll maintain what they built or allow it to crumble under pressure.

They won't be disappointed. Betrayal within the family is the one crime that has always carried a single punishment throughout our history.

"I'll handle it personally," Takeshi promises.

Some lessons require planning, preparation, and perfect execution. But first, I need to reassure three frightened daughters and one very confused American teacher that everything is under control.

Even when it very much isn't.

The west wing holds the quiet tension of contained fear when I enter. Hayashi has arranged everyone in the central sitting room—my daughters huddled together on one sofa, Paige perched uncomfortably on another, uncertainty written across her face.

Aya launches herself at me the moment I appear, wrapping tiny arms around my legs. "Daddy! The scary men are gone?"

I lift her into my arms, settling her against my chest where she can hear my heartbeat. Steady. Controlled. Reassuring in its unwavering strength.

"All gone, hime. Nothing to worry about."

Mizuki watches me with sharp intelligence, reading between my carefully composed lines. Even at her age she understands our world better than I sometimes wish she did. "Business discussions, Otou-san?" she asks, the question loaded with unspoken understanding.

I nod once. "Nothing that concerns you. Just some miscommunication that needed clarification."

Kohana doesn't speak, but her eyes dart between me and Paige, sensing the shift in our dynamic. At twelve, she catches emotional undercurrents with unsettling accuracy.

"Hayashi," I say, glancing at my housekeeper. "Please take the girls to prepare for bed. It's been a long evening."

"Of course, Matsumoto-sama." Hayashi bows slightly, then extends her hand toward my daughters. "Come, young ladies. Your father needs his rest as well."

Mizuki hesitates, studying my face with the critical assessment she's inherited from me. "Is everything really okay, Otou-san?"

"Everything is as it should be," I answer, which isn't quite the same as okay, but is the most honest reassurance I can offer. "We'll discuss it tomorrow if you still have concerns."

She accepts this with a slight nod, too well-trained to press further in front of others. Kohana follows her sister without comment, throwing one last worried glance over her shoulder. Aya clings tighter, burying her face against my neck.

"I want to stay with Daddy."

"Not tonight, hime." I press a kiss to her forehead, then gently disentangle her arms from around my neck. "It's late, and princesses need their sleep."

Hayashi takes Aya's hand, leading her away with gentle efficiency. When the door closes behind them, I turn to find Paige still seated, watching me with questions in her eyes.

"You should get some rest as well," I tell her, my voice leaving no room for argument. "It's been a long day."

She stands, smoothing her festival yukata with nervous hands. "Kaito, wait."

"Not now." The words come out sharper than intended, and I see her flinch slightly. I moderate my tone, but not my resolve. "Tomorrow is soon enough for questions. Tonight, I have matters to attend to."

Her eyes search mine, looking for explanations I'm not prepared to give. Not yet. Not when the threat is still being measured.

"Stay in the west wing tonight," I add, making it clear this isn't a suggestion. "It's safer."

"Safer from what?" The question holds equal parts defiance and fear.

I move to the door, unwilling to engage further when strategic planning demands my full attention.

"From matters that don't concern you." I pause at the threshold, looking back at her—this foreign woman who has unwittingly become a catalyst for conflict.

"Remember what I told you in the car, kotori.

You're mine. And I protect what's mine, no matter the cost."