Center of the Storm ( 185 )

Fujiwara stood at a distance, watching the scene with a tightening jaw.

Kyouko, radiant and quiet, was now completely surrounded by powerful men—each one leaning just a little too close, voices too smooth, eyes too interested.

And not one of them belonged to him.

She's mine, he thought coldly.

Not for these old, leering fools.

He forced a smile, composed himself, and began walking slowly toward her.

Polished steps. Hands behind his back.

Measured. Controlling the moment.

As he passed Satoshi, the older man caught his eye.

Satoshi smirked—and gave a subtle nod.

The plan's working.

Fujiwara stepped into the circle.

He cleared his throat.

"Ahem."

The voices lowered.

He glanced around at the men, then looked directly at Kyouko—his tone proud and possessive.

"She's my special guest tonight."

A pause.

The men exchanged looks.

One of them smiled faintly. "Oh… good to know."