A Price Rejected
The chairman's office was quiet—thick glass walls muting the celebration still echoing through Runcandel Vision HQ.
Keith and Tomoko Suzuki sat opposite each other on the sofa.
For several seconds, neither spoke.
Then Tomoko straightened her back, fingers clenched in her lap.
"I'll be direct," she said, voice steady but fragile beneath.
"In exchange for your protection… for my daughters' future…"
She closed her eyes.
"…I will give you myself."
The words fell like lead.
Keith froze.
For the first time that night, his composure cracked.
"…What?" he asked quietly.
Tomoko opened her eyes, meeting his gaze without flinching.
"My marriage was never love," she said.
"Shiro Suzuki bought me with family ties. I endured because I had no choice."
Her voice trembled now.
"I've seen him with other women. Maids. Guests. Strangers."
"I stayed silent—for my daughters."
She inhaled shakily.
"If my body is the price for their safety… then I'll pay it."
Silence swallowed the room.
Keith exhaled slowly.
"…That deal," he said, voice low,
"is unacceptable."
Tomoko's shoulders shook.
"So even this isn't enough…" she whispered, eyes burning.
Keith stood.
"Come here."
She looked up, startled.
"Keith—?"
"I said come here."
Her body moved before her fear could stop it.
Keith pulled her gently down beside him—not rough, not forceful—and placed a firm hand beneath her chin, lifting her gaze until she had no choice but to look at him.
His sapphire eyes were calm.
Unyielding.
"You misunderstand something," he said quietly.
"I don't buy women."
Tomoko's breath hitched.
"I don't want a slave.
I don't want a bargaining chip.
And I certainly don't want a woman who believes her only value is her body."
Tears spilled freely now.
Keith leaned closer—not to dominate, but to be heard.
"If you stand beside me," he continued,
"it will be because you choose me—not because you're desperate."
He rested his forehead lightly against hers.
"You will not be someone I use."
His voice softened.
"You will be mine because I want you respected."
Tomoko broke.
She clutched his coat, sobbing silently.
Keith wrapped an arm around her, steady and warm, letting her cry without judgment.
After a long moment, he spoke again.
"In three months," he said,
"your divorce will be finalized."
Her breath caught.
"You and your daughters will leave Japan."
"You will go to France."
Tomoko looked up, stunned.
"You will become Chairwoman of the Runcandel Group Board."
Her lips trembled.
"…Me?"
"Yes," Keith said without hesitation.
"You are worthy."
She shook her head weakly.
"I'm just—"
Keith placed a finger gently against her lips.
"Never belittle yourself again."
"And never belittle the name Runcandel."
He met her gaze fully now.
"People will not look down on my woman."
"And they will never look down on the mother who protected her children."
He pressed a soft kiss to her forehead—gentle, protective, final.
"Wait for me," he said.
"I will take care of everything."
Tomoko nodded, tears still falling—but this time, they weren't from despair.
They were from relief.
She stayed there a little longer, wrapped in quiet safety.
Then she stood, composed herself, and left the office—
Not as a bargaining mother.
But as a woman who had just been chosen.