It seemed that every time Yuki spent the night with Ivan, her body would be left utterly exhausted—so much so that she could never rise easily the next morning. This time was no different. When her heavy eyelids finally fluttered open, she realized she had been asleep for quite a while.
The only difference was that this time, Ivan had remained by her side.
He was still there when Yuki awoke, sitting near the window with his phone pressed to his ear, his expression hard and serious as he spoke in a low, commanding tone. Throughout the entire call, he did not spare her even a single glance, as if she did not exist in his world. Only when the call was over did his cold blue eyes shift to meet Yuki's, who by then was already sitting upright on the bed, watching him nervously while clutching the sheets to her chest.
"You look beautiful with those marks," Ivan said at last, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips.
He sounded satisfied as his gaze roamed over her bare body. Yuki hadn't realized it until then that she was still completely naked. Every trace of their lust from the night before was carved vividly upon her porcelain skin. Dark bruises, red welts, and tender bites decorated her like a lewd canvas. Ivan rose from his seat, his tall frame moving closer until he stood at the edge of the bed. Without hesitation, his gloved finger traced lazily across her breast, circling her nipple, still reddened and swollen from his merciless kisses.
"M–Master…" Yuki's voice was soft, trembling, though her heart pounded loudly in her chest.
For the first time in two long years, she had awakened to find the man who had taken her not gone at dawn, but still beside her. For the first time, she felt as if she wasn't just another disposable courtesan, even though she knew full well her position had not changed.
"Call me Ivan, Yuki," he ordered smoothly, his tone lighter than usual yet still filled with authority.
Although their reunion the night before had begun with violence and blood, the storm had shifted, drawing them closer in an unexpected way. Yuki, gathering courage, let out a small smile as his hand tilted her chin upward. Their lips met. The kiss deepened quickly, stealing her breath until her face flushed scarlet, desperate for air.
"S–Sir Ivan…" she whispered when he finally pulled back.
"Good girl," Ivan murmured, his palm brushing tenderly against her cheek. This time, he did not call her a "slut." His touch was unexpectedly gentle, as if for a fleeting moment, she was something precious to him. He leaned in and captured her lips once again, slower, almost languid.
"I will be leaving soon," he said once their mouths parted, his deep voice rumbling close to her ear. "But when I return, I expect you to be ready for me. Completely."
Yuki swallowed hard. She needed no explanation. She was a courtesan, trained to obey, and she knew exactly what his demand implied.
"I understand, Sir Ivan."
His hand stroked her hair with the same absentminded fondness one might give to a cherished pet. To her surprise, his lips curved in a faint, genuine smile. He enjoyed the sensation of her soft strands beneath his fingers, the warmth of her body so close. Perhaps, he thought, if it was Yuki, he might actually consider keeping her properly—taking care of her not just during fleeting visits to Japan, but permanently.
"Remember what I said, Yuki," his tone sharpened suddenly. "If I ever find you with another man again…"
He left the sentence unfinished, letting the weight of his threat sink deep into her bones. The silence was far more terrifying than any words could be.
"Be a good girl for me."
With that, Ivan withdrew his hand. His clothes had already been changed before she awoke; she had no idea where he had obtained the fresh set, but the expensive suit told her he was about to step out once more, resuming whatever dangerous business had brought him to Japan.
"Very well, Sir Ivan."
Yuki watched him leave with a smile tugging at her lips—soft, sweet, almost like a devoted wife seeing her husband off to work.
"Sakura, are you alright?"
The voice of one of the attendant girls floated timidly from behind the door, not long after Ivan's departure. Yuki leaned back against the headboard, her body still sore in places where Ivan had left his marks, but overall, she was fine.
"Come in. I need to change."
Because their encounter had begun in the bathroom the night before, she had awoken surprisingly clean, though her clothes from yesterday were nowhere to be found. All she needed now was a fresh set of garments.
"Sakura!"
The door burst open as several of the attendant girls rushed in, their faces painted with both worry and relief. The memory of last night still haunted them. The calm, handsome foreigner had turned into a merciless beast, nearly tearing their establishment apart.
"Huwaah! I was so scared last night! Sakura, you're incredible for calming down that shinigami!" one of them blurted out.
"Hm… I don't think he would appreciate being called that," Yuki replied dryly.
At once, their expressions drained of color. The girls collapsed to their knees before her, trembling like frightened lambs.
"Sakura, please don't tell him what we said! We were wrong! Hic—we don't want to die!"
Yuki couldn't help but smile faintly at their terror. Even just the thought of Ivan's wrath was enough to send them quivering. She dangled her bare legs over the edge of the bed, resting her chin on her hand as she looked down at them, her posture both casual and commanding.
"I won't tell him. But you'd better be more careful in the future."
"Yes, yes! Thank you so much, Sakura!"
The girls practically wept with relief. To them, she seemed kind, merciful, like a guardian. None realized that Yuki had no true obligation to protect them—she had merely chosen not to fan their fears further. Overjoyed, they hurried to assist her, fetching fresh robes and dressing her with practiced hands.
RATTLE!
The sudden sound of the door sliding open made everyone freeze.
"Madam!"
At once, the servants bowed deeply as Madam strode in without permission, her sharp eyes scanning the room until they settled on Yuki, now fully clothed.
"I thought you would be pleased to see me alive, Madam," Yuki said smoothly, her tone carrying a hint of mockery. She reclined against the bed with an air of nonchalance, not attempting to hide the bold, bruised marks Ivan had left upon her body. They were evidence of whose hands had claimed her.
Madam's gaze darkened the moment she noticed them. From all the things she could have said, her first words were cold and cutting.
"Don't get arrogant. You should be thinking about how to survive the next night. As the finest product of this house, it would be our loss if you were discarded once he grows tired of you."
Yuki's smile only widened, calm and unreadable, though deep inside she understood the venom behind those words. She also knew Madam had not come just to chastise her.
"Our Master is calling for you," Madam continued curtly. "You should go before his patience runs out."
With that, she finally left, her heels clicking against the floorboards as the door closed behind her—leaving Yuki alone once more, her sweet smile fading into something darker, quieter, more contemplative.