Chapter 143
AU: The Heiress and The Bodyguard Part 9
There’s truth to the saying that the best place to hide is in plain sight – conducting private business in crowded places can provide the perfect cover.
When Wakako entered the café, she immediately identified her contact. The voice on the phone hadn’t been disguised, and she knew it belonged to a young woman. Only one person present fit the description.
She remained silent until reaching the person’s back, then spoke suddenly: “Hello.”
“…Hello.” She stammered, before nervously confirming, “You’re Miss Wakako?”
“Yes.”
“Please, have a seat.”
In these brief exchanges, Wakako observed her carefully. No calluses on her hands, no signs of physical training—this was not someone accustomed to hard labor or combat.
The girl was direct, sliding a printed contract across the table: “If you agree to the terms, you can sign here. Three copies.”
Wakako recognized the familiar mercenary contract template, but the terms weren’t for hiring them for protection; instead, it stipulated that she and Lin Lin terminate their contract with Miss Miki.
The compensation was unusually high.
Wakako took the pen, uncapping it, but instead of signing, she twirled it between her fingers: “May I ask why you’re doing this?”
“What do you mean?”
“Offering such a large sum for us to abandon our mission and leave Miss Miki’s side?” Wakako asked. “I’d like to know the reason.”
The woman narrowed her eyes, clearly reluctant to answer.
“Miss Wakako, with your extensive experience, you must know better than to pry into a client’s affairs.” She tapped the contract. “Once you sign, our transaction is complete.”
Wakako looked down at the spinning pen: “Is that so?”
She said calmly: “I shouldn’t pry into a client’s affairs. But I never agreed that you are my client.”
The woman froze, momentarily confused by Wakako’s words. In the next moment, her confusion gave way to panic.
The pen tip was now pressed against her neck. A slight push would be enough to draw blood.
From a distance, nothing seemed amiss. But the woman could feel cold sweat dripping down her back. The innocuous pen she had handed over was no longer just a writing instrument. In mere moments, Wakako had swapped it out for a concealed weapon.
“Now, are you ready to talk?” Wakako asked softly. “Who sent you? Why do you want us gone? What are you planning to do to Miss Miki?”
Neither her appearance nor her voice was intimidating. Her dimples softened her expression, making her seem approachable.
But the pen tip told a different story.
The woman, clearly out of her depth, stammered, “You… you wouldn’t dare…”
Do something like this in a public place?
Wakako’s voice was casual. “You must have done your homework before approaching me. Do you think I’d hesitate? I can finish this and walk out unnoticed. Do you believe me?”
The tip nearly touched her neck.
Beads of sweat trickled down the woman’s forehead. She tried to speak, but the words caught in her throat. She attempted to discreetly send a message on her phone, but Wakako saw it.
“Would you like to test that theory?” she asked, pressing the tip closer. “Or will you answer my questions?”
The girl’s panic was palpable. Just as she was about to break, the café door creaked open with a deliberate squeak.
“Wakako.”
Other customers instinctively looked toward the door, but their view was quickly blocked by accompanying figures.
“Excuse me, we’d like to book the entire cafe,” someone requested politely. “Would you mind leaving? We’ll compensate you for the inconvenience.”
Most problems in the world could be solved with money. If not, it simply meant you weren’t offering enough.
Moments later, the bustling café was emptied, leaving behind only Wakako, the woman with the contract, and the figure standing at the door.
Wakako remained seated, pen in hand, as the tension in the air grew thicker
“Miss Miki…” Wakako stood immediately. “Why are you here?”
— Weren’t you in a meeting? Did it go well? And… this woman was trying to hurt you. How should I report it?
But unexpectedly, Miki’s next words called a strange name: “Senryu, you can leave.”
The woman sighed in relief, knowing she could drop the act: “Yes, Miss.”
They knew each other? Wakako’s gaze bounced between Miki and this “Senryu,” unable to make sense of the situation.
She slowly withdrew the modified pen that had threatened Senryu.
Senryu gathered the contracts and left. A server emerged from the back, placed two cups of coffee on the empty table before disappearing again.
Miki sat down across from Wakako, gesturing for her to do the same.
She took a sip of coffee, then said, “Senryu works for me.”
“…Ah,” Wakako mumbled, still trying to process everything.
Miki continued slowly: “I was the one who offered your team that substantial payout to terminate your contract.”
Wakako still couldn’t understand.
She stared blankly at her coffee, finally saying: “You hired me, and then offered me money to leave? I don’t understand… Were you testing me?”
Miki said: “Yes.”
“But your assistant already conducted a thorough background check on us before deciding to hire us,” Wakako grew more confused. “My shimei and I have no conflicts of interest with your group, we wouldn’t go against you – why test us?”
She worried she’d done something wrong to make Miki suspicious, but couldn’t think what, growing flustered.
Miki finished her coffee before answering.
“Because I don’t trust anyone,” she said, eyes showing fatigue.
Being able to hear people’s thoughts was both a blessing and a curse. Stripped of their pretense, human hearts were often ugly and selfish.
Including family members who, despite blood ties, coveted what she possessed.
Including her own family, who wanted her power and wealth.
Even the man who once promised to love her and only her had only lies and betrayal lurking behind his words.
Even a former subordinate who had initially admired her skills and shared her vision eventually caved to greed and betrayed her, selling company secrets to a competitor.
When Miki saw through his facade, she felt a mix of disappointment and resignation.
She believed no one could truly love her, unconditionally and consistently. Everything changed with time.
And now, Wakako was no different.
Falling in love after just a few days? Even if Wakako was sincere now, how long would it last under the weight of temptation?
Miki knew this test was pointless, but she couldn’t resist.
If Wakako failed, she would only be left with disappointment.
If Wakako passed, she would discover that the flawless Miss Miki she admired was deeply distrustful, almost paranoid.
What would Wakako think then?
Wakako, oblivious to Miki’s inner turmoil, let out a long breath, “…I almost hurt your subordinate.”
Her knives – even that tiny one – were deadly in her hands.
Wakako didn’t know how to appreciate coffee. She was simply thirsty, so she gulped it down.
Only after finishing did she remember she should be mindful of her manners in front of Miss Miki. She quickly hid her face behind the cup.
— (╥﹏╥) I embarrassed myself again, dammit.
“Then I misunderstood your subordinate earlier.” Wakako offered an awkward smile. “That’s a relief.”
Her reaction seemed to surprise Miki.
“You’re not angry?”
Angry? Why would I be angry? Wakako instinctively shook her head: “No.”
She swallowed the rest of her sentence, finding it too sentimental to voice.
— I’m actually relieved. Because it means no one is actually trying to hurt you.
When she’d received that call, Wakako never considered signing the contract.
When she received that call, Wakako hadn’t even considered signing the contract.
Although the amount offered was staggering, enough to secure her future, she hadn’t entertained the idea, not even for a second
She’d only thought…
— Someone is planning to hurt Miss Miki at the event, which is why they’re trying to get rid of her bodyguards.
— How despicable. I have to stop them.
— But why am I so determined? Is it because of my role as her bodyguard… or because of my feelings for her? Maybe it’s both. Either way, I won’t let anyone hurt her.
— I think I understand my own feelings better now. Before, I didn’t know what it meant to like someone, but now I do.
— It’s wanting to watch over her, worrying about her, and then feeling so happy I could jump for joy just because of a single word from her.
— It’s a strange and wonderful feeling.
Lost in thought, Wakako grinned, then immediately regretted it.
Why couldn’t she control her expressions? She couldn’t keep acting like an idiot in front of Miss Miki!
Especially… when Miki was looking right at her. She must have seen everything.
After a long moment, Miss Miki spoke again.
“There’s something I wanted to ask you, I don’t know if…”
Her voice was soft, and at that moment, Wakako’s phone rang, drowning out her words.
It was Lin Lin. The agreed-upon twenty minutes were up, and Wakako hadn’t called. Her shimei was worried.
Wakako gave Miki an apologetic look before quickly answering: ” Hello? I’m fine. I’m with Miss Miki. Wait for me back at the company…”
Miki looked down, letting the matter drop.
Later.
She would bring it up after the event.
She would use these next few days to prepare.
After spending this time with Wakako, Miki had a good understanding of her work ethic. Simply put, she was decisive and completely dedicated.
But no one knew better than Miki that this wasn’t just about work – it was how she approached everything.
Once she made a decision, there was no room for negotiation. What appeared to be a discussion was, in reality, just an announcement.
Miki’s beautiful eyes lingered on Wakako as she chattered animatedly on the phone.
How could something that only takes two sentences need so many words.
Still, Wakako reminded her of a German Shepherd—loyal, straightforward, endlessly patient, incredibly skilled, and hopelessly affectionate.
I’d like to keep one.
A goofy, tail-wagging German Shepherd, one that I can slowly train, teaching her exactly how to please her master.
