Naoya sat in his study, the remnants of an expensive meal scattered across the table. He swirled the amber liquid in his glass, eyes unfocused, mind already wandering to more carnal pleasures. You were tidying up in the adjacent room, your movements precise and silent. The silk of your uniform whispered against your skin as you moved. You had become adept at maintaining an aura of invisibility, a skill honed through months of working in the Zenin household. But tonight, as on many nights, Naoya's gaze followed you, a predator eyeing its prey.

"Come here. And close the door." His voice was a low command, cutting through the stillness of the room. You hesitated, a flicker of emotion crossing your face before you schooled your features into an obedient mask. The click of the door shutting was the only sound that followed. This had become a twisted ritual between the two of you, an unspoken arrangement that neither acknowledged openly. He reached out, his fingers tracing the curve of your hip before pulling you onto his lap.

Naoya's hands roamed with practiced ease, his touch igniting a fire that left you breathless. He took what he wanted, his actions a stark reminder of your place in his life. You were his plaything, a convenient outlet for his desires. His wife, unaware or perhaps turning a blind eye, remained a distant figure in the sprawling mansion.

"Remember, this is all you are to me." As Naoya moved with deliberate intensity, his lips brushed against your ear. The words stung, a sharp reminder of the boundaries that defined your relationship. You were nothing more than a tool for his pleasure, a disposable entity in his world of privilege and power. He would use you, discard you, and move on without a second thought. You knew this, accepted it even, because in some twisted way, it was better than nothing.

And while his wife knew nothing, your body would continue to entertain him again and again.