Page 46 of The Oyabun's Boy

I felt rather than heard Kenji approach from behind. After our morning "refresher course" and a shared shower that involved significantly more touching than actual cleaning, he'd dressed in another immaculate suit while I'd opted for the towel look. Fashion choices in a kidnapping situation were limited, after all.

"You find joy in the strangest things," Kenji observed, his voice carrying that edge of bemusement that I was starting to recognize as his version of fondness.

I turned to face him, fighting the flutter in my stomach at the sight of him watching me with those dark, intense eyes. Even fully clothed and perfectly composed, he radiated the same heat and hunger that had pinned me to his mattress less than an hour ago.

"Someone has to balance out your brooding villain aesthetic," I replied, gesturing vaguely at his all-black ensemble. "If we were in a movie, you'd definitely be the guy who monologues about world domination while stroking a white cat."

His lips curved into that barely-there smile that did ridiculous things to my insides. "I prefer dogs, actually."

"Of course you do. Probably something terrifying and loyal, like a Doberman or a hellhound."

"German Shepherd," he corrected, moving closer until he stood beside me at the window. "I had one as a child. Hiro."

The small personal detail felt like a gift—a tiny crack in the impenetrable fortress that was Kenji Zisheng Hú. I stored it away like a precious treasure, another piece of the puzzle I was slowly assembling.

I turned back to the window, watching the city sprawled below us like a miniature kingdom. "I still don't understand it," I said, the words escaping before I could filter them.

"Understand what?" Kenji asked, his reflection in the glass watching me with unnerving focus.

"This." I gestured between us. "Why someone like you would be so... captivated by someone like me. You have all this—" I waved at the opulent room, the panoramic view, the empire he commanded with a word. "And I get excited about dust particles and proper tea steeping times."

Kenji's hand caught my chin, turning my face toward him. His expression was suddenly fierce, almost angry. "Not captivated," he corrected, his voice dropping to that dangerous register that made my knees weak. "Consumed."

The word sent a delicious shiver racing down my spine, settling low in my belly. Consumed. Like I was something he couldn't help but devour. Something necessary for his survival.

Say something witty. Don't just stand here melting like an ice cream cone in July.

"So I'm breakfast?" I blurted out, immediately wanting to smack myself. "Or maybe lunch at this point? Should I be concerned about cannibalism? Because I'm pretty sure that's illegal even for crime lords. Although I guess laws are more like suggestions in your line of work—"

Kenji's exasperated sigh cut off my nervous rambling. His hands tightened on my hips, pulling me against his chest until I could feel his heartbeat through the expensive fabric of his suit.

"You," he said, each word deliberate, "are the most infuriating person I have ever met."

I tilted my chin up, meeting his gaze directly. "Yet, here you are."

Something shifted in his expression—the predatory mask giving way to something softer, more vulnerable. For a briefmoment, I glimpsed the man beneath the monster, the human behind the legend.

"Here I am," he agreed simply.

Those three words carried a weight I wasn't prepared for. Here I am. Not because he had to be. Not because I was a prisoner or an asset or a pawn in some complex game of criminal chess. But because he chose to be. Because somehow, improbably, impossibly, he wanted me.

Oh crap. I'm falling for him. I'm actually falling for the dangerous man who kills people and runs a criminal empire and probably knows how to murder someone with a paperclip.

My mother was going to need something stronger than tea for this conversation.

"I should get dressed," I said finally, reluctantly pulling away from his warmth. "Unless you plan to parade me around your tower in a towel all day."

His eyes darkened, sweeping over me with naked appreciation. "The thought has merit."

"I bet it does," I laughed, managing to slip past him toward the closet where more designer clothes awaited. "But I'm pretty sure your staff has been traumatized enough by my presence without adding semi-nudity to the mix."

As I reached the closet door, Kenji's voice stopped me. "Joy."

I turned, caught off-guard by his use of my actual name instead of "Princess."

"I have a meeting this afternoon," he said, his expression returning to the controlled mask I was becoming familiar with. "Business that cannot wait. But tonight..." He paused, his eyes holding a promise that made my pulse quicken. "Tonight is ours."

It wasn't a question. It wasn't even a suggestion. It was a statement of fact, as inevitable as gravity. Tonight is ours.