Compared to her sister Rika Kawasaki’s bright blue Lamborghini, which was eye-catching no matter where it went, Chinatsu Ayase’s black Cadillac CT5 was undoubtedly much more ordinary and low-key.
It sat quietly on the roadside by the entrance of the dining room, its lines smooth but not ostentatious.
In truth, Chinatsu Ayase did not lack the money to buy a supercar that could rival her sister’s.
After returning to the country, her mother had given her a bank card with nearly 50,000,000 yen on it, enough for her to squander as she pleased for a very long time.
But she knew her identity all too well—she was the bastard daughter, an existence that could not be openly acknowledged.
She couldn’t be like Rika Kawasaki, acting unrestrained, arrogant, and doing whatever she wanted without a care in the world.
Any behavior that was too high-profile might invite unnecessary scrutiny and gossip, breaking the balance she so carefully maintained.
Moreover, she needed to uphold her persona as a well-behaved, sensible, and harmless “good girl.”
This persona was her best camouflage and her best pass to get close to her target.
But if someone were to ask Kaoru Hoshitani right now whose car he preferred, he would choose Chinatsu Ayase’s Cadillac without a moment’s hesitation.
The reason was simple—this car had a spacious back seat.
This way, he could choose to sit in the back instead of being forced to squeeze into a cramped front passenger seat like in Rika Kawasaki’s car.
He wouldn’t have to be so close to that terrifying woman, close enough to clearly feel the heat and breath radiating from her, close enough that every breath felt like his space was being violated by her presence.
When Chinatsu Ayase politely opened the back door for him, Kaoru Hoshitani felt almost relieved as he scrambled inside.
He chose the window seat, shrinking himself into the corner to maintain a relatively safe distance from the girl in the driver’s seat.
Chinatsu Ayase glanced at him through the rearview mirror but said nothing.
She simply gave a light smile and started the car.
The interior was very quiet.
There was only the low hum of the engine and the occasional sound of the wind passing by the window.
The warm air from the air conditioner carried a faint, unfamiliar scent—a cool fragrance similar to a forest after rain.
It wasn’t strong, but it filled the space just right.
Kaoru Hoshitani turned his head, his gaze fixed on the neon lights and street scenes flashing past outside.
He tried his best not to think about the terrible memories that the passenger seat might hold, nor about the actions the girl driving had taken in the private room… whether those actions were out of kindness or for some other purpose.
Originally, he had been a bit nervous and wary due to the physical contact in the private room that had exceeded normal social boundaries.
His body was tense against the seat, and his fingers unconsciously gripped the seatbelt.
But along the way, Chinatsu Ayase seemed to be focused entirely on driving.
She occasionally glanced at the navigation or adjusted the steering wheel, but she barely spoke throughout the trip.
Nor did she cast that unsettling, scrutinizing gaze through the rearview mirror again.
The car moved steadily and quietly, with soft background music flowing from the speakers—a soothing, unknown piano piece.
This silence actually allowed Kaoru Hoshitani’s tensed nerves to gradually relax.
Perhaps it was because the negative emotions he had suppressed for so long had finally found some release, or perhaps today’s shock, fear, and crying had consumed too much of his physical strength.
He only felt waves of irresistible exhaustion seeping out from his bones.
His eyelids grew heavier and heavier, as if weighted down by invisible lead.
The lights flowing past the window gradually blurred into a halo, and the piano music in his ears grew more and more distant.
Finally, his head tilted slightly, leaning against the cool window glass.
His breathing became even and long as he fell into a deep sleep…
…
“You haven’t come to the company again these past few days?”
Inside the office of the President of Izumimori Corporation, a heavy silence filled the air.
Outside the floor-to-ceiling windows was the bustling Tokyo skyline, where the lights of ten thousand homes looked like a star-studded river hanging upside down, yet all the noise was blocked by the thick glass.
Behind a large solid wood desk, a well-maintained middle-aged woman in a sophisticated dark gray suit frowned, looking at her daughter who was sitting lazily on the opposite sofa.
Her tone carried a hint of weariness, but more so a sense of helplessness, as if she were frustrated that her daughter wasn’t living up to her potential.
Previously, Rika Kawasaki had unexpectedly taken the initiative to ask for an internship at the company.
Hana Kawasaki thought her eldest daughter had finally started to become sensible and was planning for the future.
But she hadn’t expected that after only a short while, she would hear reports from her subordinates: Rika Kawasaki was not only arriving late and leaving early, but she had even stopped showing up for several days without saying a word.
The head of the Marketing Department had come to ask the President euphemistically if there were any changes to the “Missy’s” internship arrangements, forcing her to give a vague excuse to brush it off.
In sharp contrast was her second daughter, whom she could not publicly acknowledge—Chinatsu Ayase.
That child not only arrived at work on time every day but was also impeccable in her dealings with others.
In a short time, she had become very popular in the Human Resources Department.
Almost everyone had a good impression of her, praising her for being “sensible and capable.”
Two daughters—one legitimate but idle, the other illegitimate but so outstanding.
The contrast left Hana Kawasaki with mixed feelings.
She couldn’t help but sigh in her heart.
If Chinatsu Ayase weren’t a bastard daughter and didn’t have that awkward status, she could have fully trained her as a true successor.
After all, to Hana Kawasaki, both Rika Kawasaki and Chinatsu Ayase were her own flesh and blood.
She wasn’t like her husband, who felt disgusted and uncomfortable as soon as he saw Chinatsu.
At this moment, the yellow-haired eldest daughter sitting before her had no sense of decorum.
She was focused on scrolling through her mobile phone, not even bothering to look up, as if her mother’s words were just an insignificant breeze passing by her ears.
That look of utter indifference caused a fire to rise in Hana Kawasaki’s heart, yet she had nowhere to vent it.
Looking at Rika Kawasaki like this, Hana Kawasaki felt a deep sense of powerlessness.
She was decisive and vigorous in the company, and not one of the 100s or 1,000s of people under her dared to be impudent in her presence.
Yet, she could do nothing about this eldest daughter who had been by her side since childhood.
Perhaps it was because of the guilt deep in her heart.
Due to various complex reasons, she hadn’t been able to provide a complete and healthy family environment, which led to her daughter turning out this way.
So even though she knew Rika Kawasaki was fooling around and neglecting her duties, she just turned a blind eye.
Every month, she still punctually deposited a large sum of allowance into her card, enough for an ordinary person to live on for one year, without ever questioning where it went.
“Forget it…”
Hana Kawasaki sighed tiredly, leaning back into her large leather chair and rubbing her temples.
She hadn’t held much hope for this matter anyway; speaking was useless.
She changed the subject, her tone becoming a bit more scrutinizing.
“I heard… you brought a man back to your villa recently?”
The moment those words fell, Rika Kawasaki, who had been looking down and sliding her fingers aimlessly across the screen, finally reacted.
Her sliding motion paused, and then she slowly raised her head as if drawn by some force.
Those gray eyes looked calmly at the middle-aged woman sitting behind the desk.
There was no surprise, no panic, and not even any annoyance at having her privacy intruded upon.
She just stared straight at her mother with such composure, as if to say: ‘You found out. So what?’
She wasn’t surprised that her mother knew about Kaoru Hoshitani.
When she took that little man to the villa, she had never intentionally hidden it.
She had come and gone quite openly.
The security in the villa district, the property management, and even neighbors passing by could have seen her entering and leaving with a remarkably handsome man.
It was only a matter of time before this information reached her mother’s ears.
But she didn’t explain anything, nor did she deny it.
She just sat there quietly, looking at the woman who was her mother with a level of calm that could almost be called “provocative.”
Hana Kawasaki had already received a clear answer from her daughter’s reaction.
She didn’t press for the man’s background, nor did she criticize or point fingers.
She simply fell silent for a few seconds before saying very briefly in an almost flat tone:
“If you really like him, bring him home to see your father.”
These words were simple but contained complex meanings—they were both a form of tacit approval of her daughter’s personal choice and a subtle reminder: if she was serious, she shouldn’t hide it and should bring him into the light.
“…Mm.”
Rika Kawasaki let out an extremely faint response from her nose, almost inaudible.
She didn’t say yes, nor did she say no.
She just gave that one sound and then lowered her head again, looking back at her mobile phone screen.
But in those downcast gray eyes, a complex light quietly flashed—perhaps even she hadn’t noticed that when her mother mentioned the words “bring him home,” the image that surfaced in her mind was that little man curled up in her arms, his Little Deer Eyes filled with nothing but her reflection…