“You look conflicted,” Rylan observed, resting his chin against his hand.

Taro forced a small laugh. “I guess I just never expected any of this.”

Rylan tilted his head slightly, his crimson gaze unreadable. “Why?”

Taro blinked. “What do you mean?”

“Why is it so hard for you to believe that you deserve this?” Rylan’s voice was calm, measured. “You work hard. You’re competent. You’re loyal. Isn’t that enough?”

Taro shifted in his seat. It should be. But something about the way things had fallen into place felt too… controlled.

Rylan’s smirk was subtle, but his presence was overpowering. “Or do you think good things only happen to certain people?”

Taro looked down.

Rylan leaned forward. “Let me tell you something, Taro.”

The way he said his name sent a shiver down Taro’s spine.

“There’s no such thing as coincidence in success. The world isn’t fair—it never has been. The only thing that matters is whether or not someone chooses you.”

Taro’s breath caught.

Rylan swirled his wine lazily. “I choose people. I build them up, give them the tools to grow.” He took a slow sip, his lips curving slightly as he set the glass down. “And you? You were chosen.”

Taro swallowed. The weight of Rylan’s words pressed down on him. The way he spoke, the way he carried himself—it was like listening to a king, someone who made fate rather than followed it.

Rylan leaned back. “Tell me, what do you want?”

Taro blinked. “What?”

Rylan’s gaze didn’t waver. “I’m giving you an opportunity. But I can’t lead someone who doesn’t even know what they want.”

Taro hesitated. What did he want? More money to support his family, yes. Stability, of course. But beyond that? He had never thought about ambition before.

“I… I don’t know,” he admitted.

Rylan’s smirk didn’t fade. If anything, it deepened.

“Then let me show you.”

The words sent an unexplainable chill through Taro’s spine.

It wasn’t a request.

It was a promise.

And without realizing it, he had already taken a step deeper into Rylan’s web.

---

As they left the restaurant, Rylan’s personal car was already waiting. A sleek, black luxury vehicle—nothing like the trains and buses Taro was used to.

The driver opened the door for Rylan, who turned slightly, looking at Taro expectantly.

“Come. I’ll drop you off.”

Taro hesitated.

Rylan’s voice was smooth, almost teasing. “Are you afraid of me, Mr. Fujimura?”

Taro stiffened. “No.”

“Then get in.”

Taro did.

As the car pulled away from the restaurant, the city lights blurred past the tinted windows. The silence inside the vehicle wasn’t uncomfortable, but it was thick—charged with something he couldn’t define.

Then, Rylan spoke again.

“You’ll understand in time, Taro.”

Taro turned to him, confused. “Understand what?”

Rylan’s ruby-red eyes gleamed under the dim lighting.

“That I’m the best thing that’s ever happened to you.”

Taro didn’t answer.

But the words stayed with him long after he got home.

---