A Love I Shouldn't Feel-Chapter 209: Manipulation and Fear ( )

Morning.

The sun had barely risen, casting a soft gold across the quiet backstreets of the city.

The man walked with a bounce in his step.

He wore a cap low over his face, hands in his pockets.

Satisfied.

His debt?

Cleared.

His wife and daughter?

Safe. Secure.

He had done the job. Quick. Clean.

And now he could finally breathe.

As he made his way toward a local shop to grab breakfast, his steps slowed as he passed by an alleyway.

A gentle breeze swept past.

Screech.

A black van pulled up beside him. Smooth. Silent.

The sliding door swung open without warning.

WHAM.

A fist struck him hard across the face before he could even scream.

Another man grabbed him by the collar and yanked him inside.

The van door slammed shut.

In seconds, the alleyway was empty again.

The van disappeared into the early morning streets.

And silence returned.

Inside the Takahashi estate.

The study was dim, morning light filtered through heavy curtains. freēwēbηovel.c૦m

Kitayama stood by the window, phone pressed to his ear, voice low and calm.

"Yes, Yamashita."

A pause.

"Mm. Yes... my men secured that bastard. No trouble."

His gaze drifted out the window, expression unreadable.

"What would I do with him?"

A faint smirk touched his lips.

"...Let’s just say—we’ll extract everything we can."

He turned slightly, reaching for the cup of tea Hanako had left earlier.

"The plan?" he echoed. "Don’t worry. It’s already moving."

He sipped quietly.

"We’ve begun pressing on Fujiwara’s businesses from two directions."

A short silence.

"Mm. Yes... we’ve planned it carefully. No loose ends."

Kitayama walked slowly back to his desk, settling into the chair with quiet weight.

"Thank you,"

"With the evidence you collected, and this man’s confession..."

His eyes narrowed.

"Fujiwara won’t survive this."

When the call ended, Kitayama set the phone down on the desk with deliberate care.

He leaned back slightly.

The study door opened.

Hanako stepped in gracefully, holding a fresh cup of tea.

She placed it gently beside him.

"Dear," she said softly, "Kazuma’s already home."

Kitayama nodded once. "Good."

"Where’s Keiko?"

Hanako gave a small smile. "She’s resting. Her belly’s started to grow more—it tires her quickly."

"Mm..." Kitayama sipped his tea slowly.

After a moment:

"Where’s Kenji?"

"He just got back. He’s upstairs now."

Kitayama gave a faint grunt of acknowledgment.

"Dear?" Hanako asked softly, taking a seat beside him.

"Hmm?" Kitayama responded, sipping his tea.

"Any news from the hospital?"

"Ah... Haruki-kun?"

He nodded faintly.

"The head doctor said he’s showing positive signs. Slight response in his reflexes. Vitals remain stable."

Hanako let out a quiet breath, her hand gently touching her chest.

"Thank goodness..."

A small smile of relief bloomed on her face.

"So... does Kyouko know yet?"

Kitayama shook his head slowly.

"Hmm? No. She didn’t ask."

He paused.

"Better she doesn’t know yet."

Hanako tilted her head slightly.

"Why?"

Kitayama turned his gaze toward the window again, voice quiet but firm.

"Why do you think?"

"So she can be honest with her feelings."

Hanako blinked softly.

"If she thinks he might not wake up... she’ll stop hiding."

"She’ll stop pretending. Stop holding back."

He placed the cup down on the saucer gently.

"If she knew he was getting better..."

"She might go back to pretending again."

Hanako looked at him quietly. Then nodded.

She understood.

Their daughter needed to confront her love—not just care for it.

Hanako smiled softly, watching her husband.

"So... you really know your daughter well."

Kitayama gave a quiet hum, eyes still focused beyond the window.

"Hmm? Of course. She’s our daughter."

He turned his gaze back to Hanako, his voice steady.

"We raised her with discipline... grace... strength... and dignity."

"We taught her to be composed. To carry herself with pride.

To never show weakness to those who would use it against her."

Hanako nodded slowly. "Yes, dear..."

Kitayama leaned back, folding his hands together on the desk.

"But the only thing I wish she would stop doing—"

"—is hiding herself."

"Hiding her pain."

"She’s not a child anymore."

"She doesn’t have to carry it alone."

He exhaled softly.

"It’s time she stops pretending... and starts living honestly."

Hanako smiled softly, brushing her fingers along the edge of her teacup.

"So what are your plans after this, dear?"

Kitayama leaned back slightly, reached for the neatly folded newspaper beside him, and opened it with practiced ease.

"Nothing."

He adjusted his glasses.

"Just sit back... and enjoy my newspaper."

Hanako let out a quiet laugh, the kind that came from years of knowing this man better than anyone.

"Yes yes~"

She stood, smoothing the front of her dress, and glanced back at him with affection.

"You’re always like that. Planning everything perfectly, then pretending you’re just reading the news."

Kitayama didn’t respond, he simply turned the page.

But the faint upward curl at the corner of his mouth said enough.

Somewhere in the dark.

A dim concrete room.

No windows. One overhead light, buzzing faintly.

The man sobbed, slumped against the cold floor.

"I told everything! I’ll confess!!"

His lips were cracked, blood trickling from his swollen nose.

His face was bruised, one eye nearly shut.

Across from him, a chair scraped back.

A man leaned forward, calm, eyes cold behind glasses.

"Now say everything."

"All the plans. Every order your boss gave you."

The injured man trembled, coughing blood into his hand.

"But... but what about my family?" he asked weakly.

Another figure stepped into the light, dressed in a sharp black suit, expression unreadable.

"Our boss already guaranteed their safety," he said flatly.

"And your ticket to leave Japan is ready. You’ll disappear quietly—far from here."

The man stared up at them, broken but alive.

"Now..." the suited man continued, turning a small video camera to face him.

"Talk."

"Tell everything. In front of the lens."

The red light blinked on.

Silence.

Then the man swallowed hard, and began.

The man told everything.

All of it.

The plan.

His boss.

The reason.

The promise.

He didn’t hold anything back.

When he finished, silence filled the room.

The man in the black mask leaned forward slightly, voice calm.

"Good."

He tilted his head just a little.

"Now... we don’t mind if you go to the police and tell them all this."

A pause.

"But if you do... you’re the one who’ll end up in prison—for attempted murder."

He let that hang in the air.

"You know the man you tried to kill isn’t someone ordinary."

The injured man lowered his head.

"...I... I was desperate."

The masked man gave a slight nod—then gestured with two fingers.

Another man stepped forward, blindfolding the suspect and lifting him up by the arms.

As they dragged him toward the van, the masked man spoke again—his tone even colder now.

"Let me warn you one last time."

"When you reach home... pack everything."

"Our people are already nearby."

"You’ll receive your tickets. You, your wife, your daughter."

"New names. New identities."

He stepped closer, voice flat.

"And you won’t return to Japan... for years."

A pause.

"Or..."

His tone sharpened.

"Let’s just say... a prison cell is ready for you."

The man didn’t answer.

He only nodded—weakly—before being shoved into the van.

( End Of Chapter )

Updat𝓮d fr𝙤m fre𝒆webnov(e)l.com