A Love I Shouldn't Feel-Chapter 186: Veiled Intentions ( )

Kazuma leaned slightly toward Haruki, smirking as he nudged his elbow.

"Look at your mother-in-law, Haruki-kun," he murmured under his breath.

"If we hadn’t stepped in, she would’ve been kidnapped by half the men in this ballroom."

Haruki chuckled quietly, casting a teasing glance at Kyouko.

"Yeah... agreed," he said, lips curved in a sly grin.

"She stole the whole spotlight tonight."

Kyouko gave both of them a narrowed stare—half amused, half scolding.

"Stop it, you two," she said in a soft whisper behind her mask.

But they only laughed, not too loud, enough to pull a small smile from her lips.

"Ah, excuse me."

A suited man stepped forward, bowing politely.

"Are you Mister Kazuma from Takahashi Group?"

Kazuma turned, instantly shifting his demeanor to that of a calm professional.

"Yes. Pleased to meet you."

Another man followed. "Mister Haruki, correct? Representing Yamashita Corporation?"

Haruki gave a polite bow. "That’s right. Thank you for the introduction."

Cards were offered with both hands.

Names printed in sharp black ink.

A gesture of respect.

A formal request for future connection.

Both Kazuma and Haruki accepted them smoothly, bowing in return, exchanging light greetings.

Kyouko, standing between and just behind them, smiled quietly.

They were clearly doing their best to stay formal.

Polished.

Proper.

But she could still feel it.

These two weren’t part of the show.

They were above it.

And somehow—still laughing boys when the moment let them breathe.

She stayed silent.

Just... watched.

And in that moment, surrounded by the distant hum of the event—

She felt safe.

Across the ballroom, away from the flow of wine and conversation.

Fujiwara approached with measured steps, his expression calm but eyes sharp.

"Satoshi."

Satoshi turned, his usual smirk in place.

"Ah—Mister Fujiwara."

They exchanged a brief, firm handshake.

Fujiwara didn’t waste time.

"About our deal..."

Satoshi’s smile deepened slightly, eyes darting briefly across the room—toward where Kyouko stood quietly between Haruki and Kazuma.

"Ah... of course, Mister Fujiwara," he said smoothly.

"I will make sure she accompanies you at that moment. After that... it’s up to you."

Fujiwara nodded slowly.

"Very well."

He adjusted the cuffs of his suit.

"I’ll wait near the balcony. I’ll ask for music. Just make sure she agrees to at least... dance."

Satoshi’s eyes gleamed faintly. "Yes. I will."

Fujiwara turned and walked away, back into the dim gold of the ballroom lights.

Satoshi glanced around the ballroom, scanning faces as he passed through light conversation and floating laughter.

Then he spotted her.

Satomi, surrounded by a circle of elegantly dressed wives and socialites, smiling gracefully, speaking with effortless charm.

Satoshi approached slowly, lifting a glass of champagne from a passing tray without breaking stride.

As he reached the group, he gave a courteous nod to the women.

"Ladies," he greeted, smile polished. "Apologies for stealing her for a moment."

Satomi immediately picked up on his signal.

She turned to the group with a graceful bow.

"Ah, if you’ll excuse me~ Just for a moment."

As the women nodded politely, she slipped away from them and followed her father toward a quieter corner behind one of the decorative floral partitions.

There, out of view.

Satomi reached into her evening pouch.

From its velvet lining, she pulled a tiny sealed packet.

One small white pill. Odorless. Tasteless.

She held it between her fingers briefly...

Then, with a graceful flick, dropped it into the bubbling champagne.

It dissolved instantly, invisible.

Satoshi handed the glass back to her.

Satomi took it with a soft, well-practiced smile.

And her eyes found Kyouko—still standing with Haruki and Kazuma at the far edge of the ballroom.

She smirked.

After she drinks this... I’ll pull her to dance with Papa first.

"Mom~ here, drink."

Satomi’s voice was sweet, affectionate.

Kyouko turned slightly, her eyes still soft behind her facemask.

"Ah... thank you, Satomi," she replied kindly, reaching out and accepting the glass of champagne.

Her fingers curled delicately around the stem. The chilled glass pressed against her palm as she continued standing with Kazuma and Haruki, both of whom were now engaged by several guests, quietly exchanging cards and brief nods.

She was waiting, listening, still half-focused on Haruki’s low, polite voice as he answered a corporate director’s question about overseas expansions.

Satomi, meanwhile, offered one last smile.

Then stepped back slowly.

Not rushed. Not suspicious.

Just another guest making room.

Once she was clear of the small crowd, she turned, walking casually through the golden-lit hall until she reached Satoshi, who stood alone beside a column, watching.

She leaned in, her voice barely audible under the music and murmurs.

"Papa~"

She grinned. "After she drinks... make sure you force her to dance with you."

Satoshi’s eyes narrowed, a satisfied gleam settling there.

"Good girl."

He adjusted the cuff of his sleeve. "I know. Don’t worry."

They stood in silence for a moment longer.

And across the room.

The glass was still in Kyouko’s hand.

Kyouko held the delicate flute of champagne, her fingers still lightly curled around the stem.

She hadn’t sipped yet, too caught in the flow of voices and polite smiles as more guests came to greet Kazuma and Haruki.

Haruki glanced down at the glass in her hand.

He leaned in slightly, his voice low but casual.

"Let me drink it."

Kyouko blinked. "Eh?"

Haruki smiled softly. "Just a sip. It looks good."

She hesitated, then gave a tiny nod and passed it to him.

"Okay... but don’t finish it alone," she added with a quiet smile behind her mask.

"Leave some for me."

Haruki chuckled under his breath.

"Alright."

He lifted the glass, took half a sip, then handed it back.

"Yours," he said simply, before turning back toward a group of guests approaching them.

Kyouko watched him.

She didn’t say a word.

Just stared at the glass in her hand.

The faint trace of his lips still warm on the rim.

She turned it slightly, found the exact place where he had sipped...

And drank from it.

Her lips touched where his had been.

Just a small taste.

But her smile softened behind the mask.

She was happy.

Because they shared something, even something as small and intimate as this.

A shared glass, in a sea of strangers.

And far across the room.

Satoshi and Satomi watched.

( End Of Chapter )

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