Damn! Damn! Chapter 17

As Achim shook his head at the guard as if in a bind, the guard finally let go of his wrist and asked cautiously,

“Um… do you mean me, sir?”

At the guard’s words, Michael shook his head firmly with a smiling face. It was just around the moment Achim’s face contorted as he thought, No way.

Michael turned toward Achim and asked,

“Have you eaten?”

“…”

Achim’s eyes widened. That gentle tone sounded so much like words shared with a lover that goosebumps instantly erupted over his limbs.

What is wrong with this bastard? As the chill crept all the way up his neck, Achim secretly gripped the back of his nape tightly and forced a smile onto his face.

“Yes. Have you… had your meal, Mr. Michael?”

Achim let his hand drop back down, pretending to rub his neck. Even though he had shown such a pathetic display yesterday, “Yvonne” hadn’t been fired, and since the guard wouldn’t know about that incident, Achim had to do his best to act this time as well.

When Achim pulled his cheeks to force a smile, Michael suddenly tilted his head and thrust his hands into his suit pockets. Then, he let out a sound like a hum.

“Hmm…”

That bastard is doing it again…

Anxious at the groan uttered out of habit, Achim reflexively widened his eyes, and Michael spoke with a slight, troubled knit of his brows.

“That’s strange. According to Wolfgang, you didn’t eat breakfast.”

“…”

Michael even went through the motions of scratching the side of his head.

That foxy bastard…

Achim cursed him internally, tightly clenching his hands hidden behind his back.

With the guard present, he was undoubtedly acting the part of “Michael, the representative of the welfare organization.” Martina wasn’t the one who deserved praise. Michael’s acting skills were so flawless they could be put on a movie screen right this instance.

Furthermore, though the words he uttered sounded puzzled at a glance, Achim could grasp two things the moment he heard them.

First, he had asked the question despite already knowing the fact that Achim had skipped breakfast, and second, Wolfgang had reported his daily routine to him down to the last detail.

The fellow was even shameless. Was there any need to openly expose the fact that he was tailing him like that? Did he intend to keep tabs on him just because he had reduced the warehouse manager to that state?

If that was the case, wouldn’t it be better to just kick him out? Asking if he had eaten. What on earth was his angle?

“…”

Unlike Achim’s chaotic mind, the guard was simply bewildered by the current situation. However, it felt like a somewhat familiar flow. Affectionately asking if he had breakfast, receiving reports on his routine from the butler as if it were natural…

Could it be? The guard turned back to look at Achim with vastly widened eyes.

Achim, who had been staring at Michael as if glaring him down, hurriedly shifted his expression and smiled with crinkled eyes the moment he met the guard’s gaze. At that seemingly shy expression, the guard’s face eventually filled with great disappointment.

Because his mind was preoccupied, Achim failed to notice the change in the guard’s expression, continuing his train of thought before finally arriving at a conclusion.

He concluded that Michael’s bone-chilling behavior was entirely for the sake of image management as “Michael, the representative of the welfare organization.”

However, it was the very next day that the conclusion he had reached became utterly meaningless.

Incredibly, he ended up receiving a bizarre question from a fellow maid asking whether it was true that he was dating Michael Bernhard.

Achim instantly wore a face as if he had been struck by lightning. What kind of bullshit is that? Having barely swallowed the words that almost burst out, he asked back with a semblance of calmness.

“…What?”

It was to the extent that he wondered if he was hearing things because he wasn’t fully awake yet, so Achim stared blankly at the colleague maid who was fidgeting in front of him.

“There’s a rumor going around the mansion right now…”

“…”

“Didn’t you know, Yvonne?”

There was no way he would know about any rumors. It was because he consciously avoided mingling words with anyone, and at most, he exchanged a word or two a day—and even those were work-related conversations—so it was completely impossible for Achim to encounter hot-off-the-press private gossip that had just spawned in the mansion.

Why on earth had such an absurd rumor spread? He tried to guess, but unfortunately, nothing came to mind at all.

Along with a stifling feeling, a surge of anger welled up.

Why would I be with that psychopath?

Achim, who was in the middle of lunch, asked while holding his knife.

“Which bastard… I mean, who said such a thing?”

“Ah…”

At a reaction that was clearer than anyone else’s, the fellow maid instantly wore a relieved expression.

“It’s not true?”

“Of course not,” Achim replied immediately.

If he had it his way, he wanted to grab every single servant who had encountered the rumor and repeat the same words like a parrot, but it was merely an impossible wish.

Achim simply hoped this maid would quickly carry and spread his words.

“I see, Yvonne.”

The moment she heard it wasn’t true, the fellow maid smiled so brightly that one couldn’t even remember the expression she had worn before.

At that, Achim secretly shook his head as if looking at something pitiful.

Tsk, everyone gets fooled by the outer skin…

“How did such a rumor even start?”

“Right?”

Achim responded nonchalantly to the maid who sat down across from him while setting down her tableware.

The maid, who stared blankly at him for a moment, lowered her head and spoke as she spread Nutella sauce over a pancake.

“I was really surprised.”

Achim, who was jabbing his fork deeply into an apple, thoughtlessly raised his eyes. The maid set down the knife coated with Nutella to the side and continued in a calm voice.

“As you probably know…”

“…”

“He is incredibly kind and gentle to everyone.”

“…!”

Achim momentarily felt a bout of indigestion and thumped his chest with a clenched fist.

The maid slid a glass of water in front of Achim and continued speaking.

“Hmm… but I’ve never seen him meet anyone privately. Of course, I’ve never heard of it either. It’s really unexpected, right? Why someone so kind and perfect doesn’t have a lover…”

The maid wore an expression indicating she completely couldn’t understand, but Achim now knew the reason all too well.

He had realized from experience that his insides, which appeared to have everything on the surface, were actually blacker and more opaque than ink.

If he were in a position to meddle, Achim wanted to offer some advice to the maid in front of him. To stay out of the fellow’s sight if possible.

“Ah, anyway, that’s why I was surprised. Besides, what I heard was quite specific.”

“…Specific?”

Achim, who had been roughly wiping his mouth with the back of his hand with a napkin before him, asked. The maid nodded.

“Yeah. That he asked after you in the morning. On top of that, that he received a report about your routine from Wolfgang…”

Achim knitted his brows. It wouldn’t have been a greeting but a provocation, and the report would have been surveillance. The nuance was definitely different, but at any rate, nothing was incorrect.

Even so, when he wore a strangely twisted expression because it felt unpleasant to affirm it, the maid opened her eyes wide after a moment.

“Is it true?”

“…”

“Did he ask after you?”

The maid rapidly blinked her long eyelashes.

Is that really something to be that surprised about?

When Achim, who was rather startled by the intense reaction, momentarily hesitated to speak, the maid leaned her upper body forward across the table and spoke in a raised voice.

“So that rumor was all true?”

“It is true, but it’s not like that…”

“Oh my god.”

The maid covered her mouth with her palm. At the same time, an inexplicable sense of anxiety suddenly washed over him.

Fearing that trying to remove a lump would only result in adding another one, Achim urgently started speaking.

“Listen to me. Just as you said, he’s a, well, kind… person. So a greeting or something is no big deal…”

“No…”

The maid slowly shook her head while keeping her mouth covered with her palm.

“It’s true he’s kind, but he has never once extended a greeting first.”

Where exactly is he kind…?

Achim wanted to ask seriously, but he couldn’t bring himself to utter it aloud. He had an ominous presentiment that if he carelessly brought it up again, a disadvantageous situation would unfold for him.

He needed to live like a ghost, so why did these obstacles keep popping up? At the face of Michael that suddenly came to mind, Achim stared intently at the sausage on his plate as if glaring at it. Why did that bastard suddenly say something unnecessary…

It was just when Achim was immersed in thought, keeping his mouth firmly shut.

“Yvonne Rasch.”

At the familiar voice, Achim abruptly raised his head.