She stood and reached for an antique vase that was on her fireplace mantel and disappeared into the bathroom with it and my bouquet. “I needed a break from the gala too,” she said from the other room. “And nowhere feels . . . like my own space except for my bedroom. Everything else belongs to my father.” She reemerged with the flowers in the porcelain vase. “There are no cameras in here.”

I felt the hairs on the back of my neck rise. Of course Jin would have the best security tech on the market, and every corner would be under surveillance in his own house. Except for his daughter’s bedroom. “Are you sure?” I almost said. Instead I went to her and reached for the vase, placing it on the rosewood table.

“They really are lovely,” Daiyu said, giving my hand a squeeze. “It was very thoughtful of you.”

I should tell Victor how he’d won me serious points with the flowers, but the guy hardly needed an ego boost.

She shifted closer, staring at me with those warm brown eyes, as if she could peer into my soul and read all my secrets. I forced myself to hold her gaze, steeled myself for that sudden moment of awful recognition. I remember you—you kidnapped me.

Instead, she broke into a slow smile. “You’re shy.”

Gods. Aloof, maybe. But not shy. I’d never been invited into a you girl’s bedroom before, but I’d been invited by mei girls—and it always meant only one thing. It’d be so easy to slip my arms around her and kiss her, see where that kiss would lead. Wasn’t my mission to “befriend” Daiyu? It didn’t get much friendlier than that. But what if it ruined everything? Instinct told me she wasn’t into flings; I felt like I was being tested somehow.

“Not really,” I finally replied, grinning back at her. “I’m glad you like the flowers.”

I walked over to the bank of arched windows, glancing at the expansive gardens below. There was a pavilion in the distance with a green-tiled roof, lit softly by golden lights. The view reminded me of Dream of the Red Chamber and the many scenes Baoyu and Daiyu spent in the lush gardens of their estate.

“So you live alone here with your father?” I asked, turning. She was leaning against a carved post of her bed, arms crossed, observing me.

“Just the two of us, yes,” she said. “And whatever attendants he might have and our security team.”