Having finished dressing, Yuki was guided by Ivan to explore her new home. She could not help but feel a sense of awe, her heart quickening as she stepped beyond her room. The lower floor stretched beneath her, its walls of glass revealing a breathtaking view of the city—an expanse she hadn't seen for the last two years.
Two years. To some, a fleeting moment, barely a blink. But to Yuki, confined and imprisoned within the walls of the brothel for twenty-four months, it had been an eternity. Her footsteps carried her swiftly toward the glass, drawn to the sparkling chaos of life outside that she had longed for but never allowed herself to imagine.
"Do you like it?"
Yuki's lips curved into a soft, certain smile, while her eyes reflected the twinkling cityscape. "I love it," she replied, her voice tinged with wonder.
Her gaze softened, lingering on the crowds below. Though she had cursed a world that had cast her aside, she had never hated it for letting her live. She had clung to the faint hope of freedom, of a day when she might finally breathe beyond the walls that imprisoned her.
And now, that hope had come true because of Ivan.
Turning her eyes to him, she reached up, stretching onto her tiptoes to press a tentative kiss to his lips. "Thank you… for saving me. For everything."
Ivan's arms circled her waist, holding her close, his kiss fierce and claiming. He only released her when her face flushed from the shortage of air.
"If I had known you'd be this cute seeing the outside world for the first time," he murmured, a glint of amusement in his eyes, "I would have taken you away sooner."
He held her gaze for a long moment before finally loosening his embrace. "Yuki, can you speak English?"
Yuki shook her head honestly in response to the question. Even before she became a prostitute, her parents were not responsible parents who would send their children to school. Yuki had never been to school. That was why she was willing to do anything to survive.
Yuki thought Ivan would be disappointed because she was, in fact, just a foolish girl. However, Ivan's expression didn't change from start to finish. The man just took out his phone to type something before looking at Yuki again.
"Someone will come to teach you English while I am occupied here. For now, learning the basics should be enough."
"Alright," Yuki said, nodding. She thought of asking whether it was proper to meet strangers in her current state, but Ivan's unwavering gaze left her no room for question. She smiled, acquiescing silently. Despite his gentleness, Ivan still regarded her as a tool, a possession of sorts, a reminder that she was not yet someone special for him.
"You'll be fine as long as no one touches you," he added.
Ivan began to move toward the door, his phone still in hand. "I have to leave now. Someone will bring your meals. If you need anything, tell the guards outside."
Yuki simply nodded, her eyes following his retreating form. For reasons even she could not articulate, she lingered there, staring at the door longer than she should have.
Ivan paused, smirking over his shoulder. "If you want to leave, you can ask them to take you. But I doubt you'll get far in your current outfit."
Yuki's eyes met his, a silent acknowledgment passing between them.
"I don't want to go anywhere. I just want to know…"
"Can I stay here? What about the brothel? Won't Hiroshi come after me now that I'm gone?"
Countless questions were swirling in her mind, yet she could not voice a single one. Instead, she hesitated, trading the flood of inquiries for a simpler, more immediate thought.
"Will you be back soon today?"
"Cute," Ivan remarked, a brief, approving sound as her hopeful gaze met his. Yet even her longing eyes could not stop him from leaving. Yuki held his attention, yes—but not enough to disrupt his schedule.
"My work is demanding. Study diligently, so you're ready to leave when I return."
"…I understand," she whispered.
He pressed a light kiss to her forehead before departing, leaving Yuki alone with the vast penthouse stretching around her. She exhaled deeply, allowing herself a moment of calm—until a sharp knock at the door cut through the silence.
KNOCK KNOCK!
"I'm coming in!"
Before Yuki could respond, the door opened. A young man with silver hair and a bright, confident smile entered, followed by a woman in glasses, shy yet observant. Yuki's eyes widened in surprise, her instincts alert to the sudden intrusion.
"Hm… so this is Sakura in person? Interesting. You're lucky I didn't see you before the boss, Sweetie."
The man circled Yuki as though she were a specimen under inspection. His Japanese was functional but carried a strange accent. Even from his appearance, Yuki could tell these strangers hailed from the same country as Ivan.
The door had yet to close fully behind them. Yuki caught glimpses of muscular men standing guard, then slipping away, leaving her alone with the two newcomers.
"You look like a doll. Can't you speak? I'm certain the boss said your voice is pleasant to hear."
Yuki's eyes immediately went to the man when he said "boss," and she took a cautious step back, widening the space between them. They were clearly associates of Ivan, and she wanted to show respect, even if their intrusion unnerved her.
"My name is Yuki. Sakura is just a name people used for me at the brothel," she explained carefully, her voice steady despite her nervousness.
The man grinned, satisfied by her response. He studied her from head to toe before letting out a low chuckle.
"Indeed, your voice is lovely! No wonder the boss was captivated by a prostitute like you."
"Brother."
As he spoke, the woman behind him stepped forward, correcting him firmly. Despite her shy demeanor, she commanded the attention needed to silence him.
"My name is Alisa, and this is my brother, Igor. Please excuse his rudeness. We are here under Sir Mikhail's orders to teach you English first."
Alisa's politeness and measured speech contrasted sharply with Igor's brashness. Her Japanese was fluent, almost native, and her demeanor reassured Yuki, easing the tension in her chest.
"Nice to meet you," Yuki said politely.
"Nice to meet you as well. Shall we begin? Sir Mikhail wants you to grasp at least the basics before heading to Russia."
Alisa didn't waste time with niceties, and Yuki appreciated it. She seated herself beside Alisa as the woman produced books and teaching materials, her focus unwavering.
"I'm not a professional teacher," Alisa said with a faint smile. "But I will teach you what I know."
"I… I appreciate your help," Yuki replied, her nerves mingling with a quiet hope.
Though the lessons were difficult, and the material foreign and challenging, Yuki absorbed each word with the earnest determination of someone seizing a second chance.
"Alright. I think we can call it a day here," Alisa finally said, gathering her materials. The sky outside had begun to dim, shadows stretching over the penthouse.
Igor, who had idled in front of the television while waiting, now approached, draping an impatient arm around Alisa's shoulder.
"Done already? Let's go back," he said, his tone sharp but not cruel.
Alisa sighed, allowing him to lead her out. "I'll leave first, Yuki."
"Thank you for today," Yuki replied politely.
The pair exited, leaving Yuki alone again—but not for long. The door opened once more, and Igor reappeared, a subtle menace replacing his earlier levity.
"What's wrong?" Yuki asked cautiously, frowning.
Igor's smile was thin and calculating now. Unlike his earlier boisterousness, his eyes betrayed a chill that made Yuki tense.
"Do you really think a prostitute like you could stay long with the boss?"
Yuki frowned. She couldn't believe that the first thing Igor said to her after Alisa left was such harsh words.