The villa's interior was minimalist to the extre. Black, white, grey. Expensive, cold furniture. Beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows, lightning split a violent sky. Every surface radiated power.
A woman in a pressed suit appeared and bowed. "Miss Yukinoshita, the master is waiting in the third-floor study."
"Alright."
Yukino nodded and followed the housekeeper through long, empty corridors, up an internal elevator, to the third floor.
The study door stood ajar, warm light spilling through.
The housekeeper bowed again and withdrew.
Yukino took a breath and pushed open the heavy oak door.
Inside was simpler than she'd expected. One wall of floor-to-ceiling bookshelves. A wide desk positioned before the windows.
Seiji Fujiwara sat behind it.
He wore a loose silk robe, collar open, chest exposed. A wine glass turned lazily in his hand. His expression was a cat watching a mouse walk into a trap.
"There you are, Yukino Yukinoshita." He studied her with interest. "Earlier than I expected."
"It seems you understand efficiency better than your sister."
Yukino walked to the desk, facing him across its width.
Her rain-soaked dress clung to her body, the chill uncomfortable, but her expression didn't change.
"Fujiwara-san, I'm here to resolve a problem, not to chat." She drew a docunt from her waterproof bag, the agreent Haruno had given her. "I've read it. I accept all your conditions."
Her voice was cool and level. As though negotiating a business deal.
"I have one requirent." Yukino t his eyes directly. "While I fulfill the contract, you imdiately cease all pressure on Yukinoshita Construction and inject sufficient capital to see us through the crisis."
"Oh?" Seiji raised an eyebrow. Mildly surprised by her composure. "That's it?"
"That's it." Yukino nodded. "You want . I'll trade my body for the family's survival. Fair enough."
"Fair?" Seiji laughed out loud, as if she'd told a joke.
He stood, circled the desk, and stopped in front of her.
A full head taller. His shadow swallowed her completely. The scent of wine and male aggression hit her like a wall.
"Yukino, you really are special. Special enough that I want to break you completely."
He reached out, the back of his finger grazing her cold, damp cheek. His voice dropped to a whisper. "A deal? No. You don't have the standing to negotiate fairness with ."
He picked up another docunt from the desk and pushed it into her hands.
"Sign this. Then everything you are belongs to ."
Yukino looked down.
Compared to Haruno's version, this new contract was more detailed and far more brutal.
The title read: Unconditional Transfer Agreent Regarding All Personal Rights of "Yukino Yukinoshita."
Every clause was harsher, more dehumanizing. It quantified and defined her as a person, body, psychology, social relationships, personal will, and transferred ownership of all of it, unconditionally, to "Party A: Seiji Fujiwara."
One clause read explicitly: "Party B acknowledges that her sole value of existence lies in pleasing Party A. Party A holds unrestricted rights of use over Party B. Party B shall not resist in any form."
This wasn't a sugar daddy arrangent or even slavery. It was a legal docunt declaring a living person to be private property.
Seiji watched her face with keen interest.
He expected horror. Fury. Tears. Any emotional collapse would satisfy him.
What he got instead surprised him.
Yukino read every word, line by line, her expression as placid as if she were skimming a governnt bulletin.
Those blue-violet eyes didn't ripple once.
As though what she was processing wasn't her own life, but a math problem requiring precise calculation.
"Fujiwara-san."
After a long pause, Yukino looked up. Voice still cold. "This agreent has questionable legal standing. In modern society, any form of personal ownership contract is void."
Seiji smiled.
"The law?" He said with contempt. "Miss Yukinoshita, when power and wealth reach a certain level, I am the law. If I released this agreent alongside a video of you servicing , who do you think cos out worse? You or ?"
"I know perfectly well this agreent is worthless in court. Its purpose isn't to bind you. It's to... remind you."
He pointed at her.
"Remind you that from the mont you sign, you are no longer the untouchable Yukino Yukinoshita. You are simply an object belonging to Seiji Fujiwara."
Humiliation in every word.
Yukino listened quietly. Then nodded.
"I understand. It's a psychological shackle." Her conclusion.
Without another word, she uncapped the pen and wrote her na at the bottom of the agreent, stroke by careful stroke.
Yukino Yukinoshita.
The handwriting, like its owner, was elegant and cold.
Her hand didn't tremble once.
She set the agreent and pen back on the desk and looked up at Seiji.
"I've signed. Now it's your turn to keep your promise."
"Of course." Seiji nodded with a smile. "Starting tomorrow, Yukinoshita Construction's stock price will make you very happy. As for right now..."
His gaze dropped to her rain-soaked dress, clinging to every line of her body.
"As a signing bonus, and as your first lesson in being my property... take off that dress. Then co here..."
He pointed at the carpet at his feet.
"And introduce yourself to it with your mouth."
Yukino's body went rigid.
Only for an instant.
She closed her eyes. Drew a deep breath. When she opened them, nothing remained but dead calm.
She didn't speak. She reached behind her and began pulling down the zipper of her dress.
Slow. Clumsy. But absolutely resolute.
As though what she was about to do wasn't sothing that would destroy her dignity, but simply a procedure that had to be executed.
Seiji leaned against the desk, watching with fascination.
He knew. The first step of conquering this girl was complete.
...
While Yukino knelt in the study, her proud head bowed for the first ti, fulfilling the first command of that humiliating contract, in another room of the villa, the atmosphere was entirely different.
On the massive surveillance screen, the study played out in silent detail.
The composition was almost artistic. The girl's untouched face, juxtaposed with what she was doing, ford a cruel and perverse harmony.
Haruno Yukinoshita lounged on a sofa with a glass of red wine, wearing a satisfied smile.
"Look how beautiful little Yukino is." She murmured, as if to the empty air, or perhaps to so invisible audience. "Only under this kind of pressure does that saintly, shatter-before-bending purity of hers shine its brightest."
Beside her sat Shizuka Hiratsuka.
No lab coat today. A sharp black won's suit instead.
Shizuka wasn't watching the screen. She smoked, grey coils wreathing her mature, faintly androgynous face.
"You're insane, Haruno." Shizuka exhaled a ring. Her voice was rough. "Pushing your own sister into a man's bed, and you're smiling about it."
"Why wouldn't I smile?" Haruno sipped her wine, eyes hazy. "I'm saving her, Shizuka-sensei."
"Saving her?" Shizuka scoffed. "Letting Seiji Fujiwara use her however he wants... that's saving?"
"You don't understand." Haruno shook her head with a sigh. "The won of our family carry the Snow Woman's curse in our blood. Our bodies run cold by nature. The more we suppress emotion, the hotter desire burns beneath."
She looked back at the screen, at her sister's faintly trembling body, still silent, still enduring, and her eyes held a tangle of emotions. Jealousy. Pity. And a twisted excitent.
"But little Yukino is different. She's too pure. Her trait is is over twice mine."
"She treats every scrap of desire as sothing filthy and buries it as deep as it'll go. If this continues, within three years, the fire inside her will burn her alive. She'll beco a hollow shell."
Shizuka frowned deeply. This wasn't science.
"So you handed her to Seiji Fujiwara?"
"Because only he can save her!" Haruno nodded. "Only soone with Seiji's inhuman stamina can satisfy the Snow Woman's needs."
"This is Fujiwara-kun's order to , and it's also the lifeline I found for her as her older sister!"
Shizuka said nothing.
She looked at Haruno's flushed, agitated face and thought, suddenly, that the woman sitting next to her was more terrifying than the man on the screen defiling a girl.
"You're just looking for a noble excuse for your own fall." Shizuka stubbed out her cigarette. Cold.
Haruno didn't argue. She only laughed, airy and hollow.
She turned back to the screen. Seiji had already lifted her disobedient little sister and was carrying her toward the study's inner room.
"Excuse or salvation, it doesn't matter anymore."
Haruno drained the last of her wine, tongue sweeping across scarlet lips, eyes bright with anticipation.
"What matters is that starting tonight, adorable little Yukino becos a man's plaything."
She stood, gazing at the slim, defiant silhouette of her sister on the monitor, and whispered:
"Yukino is becoming an adult too."
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