"Huh?"
"W-What?!"
Sawamura Sayuri stared at Kaito in shock.
"Y-You want... more money?"
"Forget it if you can't afford it."
Her eyes traced over Kaito's face—youthful, handsome, perfectly aligned with her tastes—then down to his toned physique.
Before she could stop herself, Sayuri blurted out: "N-No! I have money! I'll pay! I'll pay extra!"
But after a moment of hesitation, she straightened her posture, channeling the negotiation tactics she'd honed in business. She refused to seem inexperienced.
"However..."
"I'll need to inspect the goods first."
The "inspection" process shall remain discreet.
Suffice to say, Sayuri was thoroughly satisfied with both the quality and quantity of what she examined.
Firm pectorals. Six defined abs. Arms, legs, and even that area—all sculpted, powerful, and radiating security under her touch.
And then there was the... Heavy artillery."
Just the memory made her legs wobble.
By the time Mrs. Izumi returned from her call, Sayuri was in such a daze that she barely registered signing the preliminary contract or transferring the deposit.
Only when she was back in her car, cooled by the AC and staring at her reflection in the window, did post-clarity regret hit.
"Sayuri... what have you done...?"
But the remorse lasted less than a sentence before anticipation flooded back in.
After her husband's death, she'd abandoned the life of a housewife to secure her daughter's future. Using their savings and her late husband's diplomatic connections, she'd built a small empire—several companies, enough to live comfortably.
Now that her businesses were stable, the loneliness had crept in.
In simpler terms: She missed having a man.
This wasn't unusual among the wealthy. Many women paid for companionship. But the sleazy, over-groomed male models repulsed her.
Until today.
The moment she'd stepped out of the car and seen Kaito, something ignited.
He wasn't just handsome—he carried himself with confidence, no trace of desperation. And the way his clothes strained over his body...
She'd needed him.
So she'd mustered every ounce of courage to make her offer when Mrs. Izumi left.
A rocky start, but the outcome? Perfect.
"Why does Mrs. Sawamura seem... different since I got back?" Mrs. Izumi frowned as the black van drove away.
"Probably in heat."
"I-In HEAT?!" She nearly choked.
Kaito shrugged and recounted the exchange.
"So... you agreed?!"
"A beautiful woman offering money and sex? Why wouldn't I?"
Mrs. Izumi's face soured. Kaito pinched her cheek.
"Why the jealousy? You're getting the better deal."
"How?!"
She regretted buying the house now. Sure, it was a bargain—but at what cost?!
"Others pay to sleep with me. You get it for free."
"Frankly, you're freeloading."
"Isn't that a steal?"
"I-I could pay too..." she mumbled.
"With what money?"
Silence. The villa had drained her savings.
"T-Then... let's put the house in your name!"
Kaito sighed and flicked her forehead.
"You still don't get it."
"Huh?"
"With her, it's about money."
"But with you, Mrs. Izumi... it's you I want."
Her eyes widened.
Then, with a trembling lip, she buried her face in his chest. "You're too good to me..."
"Then what should you call me?"
"H-Husband...?"
"Wrong. I'm not your husband."
"You're awful!"
"Hmm?"
"F-Fine! I'll say it! Just don't be mad!"
"Say it."
"D-Daddy..."
That night, after "rewarding" his newly obedient "daughter" at her home, Kaito left the delirious woman behind.
Not long after he'd gone, a small figure peeked through the curtains, watching him disappear down the street.
Holding her breath, Izumi Sagiri cracked open her bedroom door—left shut all day—and tiptoed out, sketchbook in hand.
"Mom...?"
No answer.
Bolder now, she nudged her mother's door open.
There, sprawled across the bed, lay Mrs. Izumi—utterly unconscious, skin glistening with... evidence.
Sagiri's lips formed a tiny "O."
Then her eyes blazed.
Sketchbook clutched tight, she stared at the scene before her.
Her artistic soul was on FIRE.