Chapter 83: Nobue Ito: I'm Pregnant Again

“Please, both of you, be extremely careful around Koji Amamiya.”

When those words abruptly left his lips, the Amamiya sisters were startled. After exchanging a glance, Saori Amamiya spoke up, curiosity piqued.

“Uncle Watanabe, could you explain that in a little more detail?”

Watanabe Zeno took a long gulp of cola, wiped the food from the corner of his mouth, and looked gravely at the sisters before him as he began to explain slowly.

“Koji Amamiya is not as simple as he appears. The reason I ended up like this is entirely because he had people come after me. And, I suspect...”

He glanced around warily and, seeing no one paying attention, leaned in to continue, voice low:

“I suspect that Mr. Toshio and Lady Erina’s ‘accident’ very likely has something to do with Koji Amamiya as well.”

“What?”

Saori gasped, unable to believe it, though a small voice inside her told her it was possible. Koji, who had always been so considerate and kind, had done an abrupt about-face recently, which had already made her suspicious.

Why, as soon as news of her father’s death arrived, did Koji refuse to let her come home and even cut off all her contact with her father’s old associates? Why did Koji keep claiming he was busy with business every day—what exactly was he busy with?

All these doubts spun in her mind, and now, with Watanabe's words, it was as if an invisible thread had suddenly connected all the scattered pieces.

Yet, Saori struggled to accept it—after all, Koji was her own uncle.

Sensing her turmoil, Watanabe slowly pulled a crumpled business card from his pocket and pushed it across the table toward the sisters.

“Koji Amamiya now controls nearly ninety percent of the company’s voting rights. The remainder lies with this person. Miss Amamiya, if you truly want to uncover the truth, I suggest you contact her.”

With that, Watanabe stood to leave, but Amamiya Sagu, who had been silent, suddenly stopped him.

“Please wait.”

As Watanabe turned, Sagu picked up the card and glanced at it.

Maya Tachibana—a name unfamiliar to her, with a string of numbers beside it.

She set the card down and looked at Watanabe, her voice laced with confusion.

“Could you tell me what motivated you to come to us with all this? Since Koji Amamiya is targeting you, returning to Tokyo must be very dangerous, right?”

She paused, then added, “Please don’t tell me it’s for the sake of the Amamiya family. That’s not a reason I can believe in.”

Saori tugged anxiously at her sister's sleeve.

“Don’t say that, sis! That’s too harsh on Uncle Watanabe.”

Sagu ignored her sister, meeting Watanabe’s gaze directly, waiting for his answer.

After a long moment, Watanabe finally relented.

“So, you saw through me.”

He sighed, lifting his empty sleeve in his hand, and spoke quietly.

“The day Mr. Toshio and Lady Erina set out, Koji Amamiya called me in, told me to protect several key members and collect a shipment at the docks. But when we arrived, there was no contact. Instead, a group of yakuza ambushed us.”

“I barely escaped thanks to my skills, though I lost an arm in the process. The others—all of them—were sent to the bottom of Tokyo Bay.”

“Afterwards, I learned of Mr. Toshio and Lady Erina’s deaths. That’s when I was almost certain Koji was behind it all—there were too many coincidences.”

“Far too many,” Sagu agreed, nodding, her mind already piecing together the chain of events. Saori, meanwhile, kept her eyes fixed on the business card.

Maya Tachibana!

Unless it was someone with the same name, Saori had met this woman not long ago.

But as far as she knew, Maya Tachibana only had ties to the underworld and no involvement in business.

Yet now, this woman held ten percent of her family’s company.

There must be a trick to this!

Saori resolved to call and get to the bottom of it as soon as possible.

Meanwhile, Watanabe continued.

“After I heard about the deaths of Mr. and Mrs. Amamiya, I was ready to leave immediately. But then I found all my bank accounts frozen, not a cent to my name. Even my family and friends were being watched around the clock.”

“I had no choice but to risk returning home, and then...”

His gaze fell on the business card, a hauntingly beautiful face surfacing in his mind.

“Then I was captured by those yakuza. Strangely, they didn’t kill me or send me to the bottom of the bay. Instead, they handed me that card and told me to give it to Miss Saori.”

“That’s all?”

Sagu frowned. Watanabe shook his head.

“That’s all. They said if Miss Saori wants revenge, she should call the number on the card.”

“I see,” Sagu nodded.

Having delivered his message, Watanabe turned and left.

After he was gone, Sagu looked at her silent sister and asked, “Saori, do you think Mr. Watanabe was telling the truth?”

“I don’t know,” Saori replied, shaking her head. Still, she picked up the business card and waved it in front of Sagu, saying, “Maybe this person knows something.”

...

Meanwhile, elsewhere.

Ando parked his car in the garage beneath an upscale apartment building, entered the elevator, and pressed the button for the fourteenth floor. He carried with him a small bag of fruit, bought on the way—Japanese fruit being outrageously expensive, he hadn’t bought much.

With a ding, the elevator arrived at the fourteenth floor.

He stepped out, glanced around, and walked straight to apartment 404.

After adjusting his clothes, he rang the doorbell.

“Just a moment,” came a raspy female voice from within, followed by the sound of slippers shuffling across the floor.

The door opened a crack, and there appeared Itou Nobue, dressed in a white T-shirt with a fever patch on her forehead.

She blinked in surprise at the sight of Ando, then blurted, “You little brat? How did you find out where I live?”

Yet even as she spoke, she opened the door fully and stepped aside.

“Come in.”

“Good afternoon, Nobue-chan,” Ando teased, stepping inside.

The door closed behind him with a snap. As he took off his shoes in the entryway, Nobue frowned in annoyance.

“Could you show a little respect? I’m your teacher, after all.”

“Oh, right, Miss Itou,” Ando said, but then noticed there were no spare slippers on the shoe rack. He looked to Nobue for help.

She rolled her eyes, bent down, and slipped on a pair of pink bear slippers herself, then handed Ando her white cat-eared slippers.

“Sakuri-chan’s shoes are too small for you. Just wear mine,” she explained.

“Thank you,” Ando said, taking the slippers. On reflex, he nearly raised them to his nose, but caught the warning glare from Nobue and quickly lowered his hand, forcing a sheepish smile.

“Uh... I just wanted to see if they were clean.”

“Don’t worry—they’re cleaner than your face,” Nobue retorted, turning and heading to the living room.

Cleaner than my face? He eyed her fair, bare ankles for a moment, falling silent. They really were pale. He couldn’t help but wonder what it might taste like to have such a lovely thing between his lips...

It would probably be wonderful, he thought, but then quickly shook his head to banish the dangerous thought.

Damn, is it hanging around this narrator that’s making me so improper? he wondered, chastising himself as he slipped into the slippers.

They were a little tight, but warm and rather comfortable.

He picked up the fruit and walked to the living room.

Unlike his own cramped rental, Itou Nobue’s place was extravagant—crystal chandeliers, floor-to-ceiling windows, a balcony, a marble coffee table, a sixty-inch TV, and three sofas. The living room had everything one could want.

“I suddenly understand why Sakuri likes Miss Itou so much,” Ando said out of the blue.

“Why’s that?” Nobue asked, curiosity piqued.

“Because you’re rich,” Ando said without hesitation, counting on his fingers. “You’re rich, you have gorgeous fair skin, and most importantly, you’re beautiful. That’s the perfect rich and pretty lady, isn’t it?”

“You brat,” Nobue said, flushing at the compliments, but smiling as she shot back, “If I’m such a catch, why am I nearly thirty and still alone?”

“Who says you’re unwanted?” Ando raised his brows, pointing at himself. “I want you. But you won’t have me, Nobue-chan.”

He’d meant it as a joke, but to his surprise, Nobue fell silent. She looked at him with clear, unwavering eyes, her face calm. After a long pause, she finally spoke.

“What if I said yes?”

“Huh?” Ando was taken aback, searching her face for a hint of jest, but there was none. She seemed completely serious.

Happiness came so suddenly that Ando’s breath caught in his throat.

Just as he was about to answer, Nobue burst out laughing.

“In your dreams. I’m just teasing you.”

She got up and headed for the kitchen, calling back, “You haven’t eaten, have you? I was going to eat alone, but why don’t you stay and keep me company?”

It wasn’t until she disappeared into the kitchen that Ando realized he’d been played. He chuckled, not minding, and followed her in.

Nobue’s kitchen was spacious, at least twice the size of Ando’s. She stood at the stove, busy with preparations.

Ando moved to her side, took the knife and ingredients from her, and spoke gently.

“Let me do it. You’re sick—you should rest.”

“There’s no reason for a guest to cook,” Nobue protested, but she stepped aside, curious to see what this young man could make.

An hour later.

“Delicious!” she exclaimed, savoring the flavors. She gave Ando a thumbs up. “I never expected you to be such a good cook!”

“Of course. I’m a runaway chef from the New East Culinary School,” Ando said with a proud grin.

Nobue didn’t know what the New East was, but that didn’t stop her from enjoying the meal.

Soon, every dish on the table had been devoured.

After dinner, Nobue sprawled on the sofa, carelessly lifting her shirt to reveal her round, fair belly, unconcerned about her male guest.

“Hey, I’m still here, you know?” Ando protested.

She only glanced at him, then continued to rub her stomach.

Suddenly, she stopped, grabbed her phone, and snapped a photo of her belly.

“Wow!” she exclaimed, showing Ando the screen. “Look at this—doesn’t it look like I’m pregnant?”

Ando looked at the screen. Indeed, given the angle, it did look a little like a baby bump.

He nodded. “A little, yeah.”

“Right?” Nobue grinned, then quickly tapped out a message on her phone, a sly smile spreading across her face.

Seeing this, Ando shivered involuntarily. “What are you doing?” he asked nervously.

“See for yourself.” She pressed send, then tossed him her phone, cheeks flushed with mischief.

Catching it, Ando glanced at the screen and froze.

On it was a message Nobue had just sent: “Pregnant again! He’s really something. This time I have a feeling it’ll be a boy—you might be getting a grandson soon.”

Attached was the photo of her slightly rounded belly.

Ando’s scalp tingled as he looked at her in disbelief, but before he could say anything, the phone suddenly buzzed.

The caller ID read: “Father.”

(End of chapter)