Wizardo's Pov
"Jastine," my mother's voice rang inside the car the moment it came to a stop. She looked at me with a stern expression on her face. "I need you to be on your best behavior. Do you understand?"
I nodded, crossing my fingers behind my back. My mother smiled, satisfied thinking she and I had an agreement.
Too bad a kid will always be a kid.
I remember running off from my mother's tight grip and never looking back upon entering the grand mansion.
Needless to say, I was scolded when we went home. But did I regret what I had done?
No.
I treasured every minute of the reason I was scolded.
Fierce.
Her eyes were staring daggers at me, while in her hand was the paintbrush she had just retrieved after I ran away with it.
She was painting a butterfly when I stumbled upon her.
It was a pretty painting, to be honest, but she was too concentrated on what she was doing that I couldn't help but do everything in my power to grab her attention.
To this day, I don't know why it was essential to have her look at me.
But that same fierce eyes were glaring at me. Her gaze could freeze anyone in place if they weren't accustomed to it.
If she found out who I am, she would probably curse me for life.
Folding my arms over my chest, I smirked, teasing her and hoping I could keep up with the pretense.
"I'm Jace," I replied, watching her facial expression turn into a scowl. "That's all you needed to know."
I know I should be scolding her.
Her secret could have been discovered if I had been some other guy. But at the same time, I didn't expect her to watch at the side while injustice was happening before her eyes.
Amiel shook her head, scoffing as she rolled her eyes.
I could tell I had pushed her patience button a little too far.
Seven might have trained her to be the best assassin, but she could still be provoked.
If the man were not in a coma right now, I wouldn't have dared to show myself to Amiel. He prohibited it from happening.
I couldn't understand that when I was young.
But after coming of age, Seven told me we could not mix work with pleasure.
At first, I thought that it was absurd.
Amiel was like a sister to me.
Yet, that night, something changed when she opened her heart about what she felt.
And then, carelessly, she got herself drunk the next day.
In my defense, I had to swoop in, or something could have happened to her.
However, I knew I could have stopped there. But for some reason, I wanted to keep seeing her.
Talking to her over the phone felt different from being with her in person.
Amiel can be reckless sometimes. She was stubborn, and despite being an assassin, she tried to give back to society.
She has a big heart.
According to Seven, that would be her weakness. But I don't see it as that. In fact, that could turn out to be her strength.
Amiel chuckled sarcastically. She caught my unwavering gaze.
"I give up," she mumbled, reaching for the fork beside her plate. She jabbed the piece of meat forcefully, shaking our shared table.
I wish, at this moment, I could just drop the pretense and come clean. I wanted to see how she would react if she finally learned that truth.
She'd been nagging me about showing up.
She had been so close to convincing me to do so. But that one-second difference was to my relief.
I will have to wait for the perfect moment to tell her the truth.
Right now, all she needed to know was that I was Jace, someone whom she found annoying.
The old man came back and gave Amiel her card. He lowered his head to bow to her respectfully.
Amiel got to her feet and stopped him from doing it. She murmured something I couldn't hear. But I was guessing she had uttered some curses, scolding herself instead of the old man.
"Please," Amiel pleaded. "Don't treat me like I'm some god you need to bow to. I only honored the promise I made."
"Still," the old man insisted. "You have done enough. You even put your life in the line."
I watched Amiel shake her head but refused to comment.
I knew what she must be thinking about.
When she accepted the proposal to work for Seven as an assassin, Seven told me that Amiel was the best at what she did. But her emotions could get in the way.
If the old man ended up being part of her target list due to unfortunate occurrences, she wouldn't be able to do it.
"Sheesh," Amiel let out a sigh. "I didn't do anything. Plus, I told you, right? I can handle myself. This is one tough cookie."
I watched the exchange, thinking about Seven.
He surely wouldn't like the bit about Amiel exposing herself like this.
But in the end, his compassion for her would win.
Seven may have been strict at our training. But he cared for us like we were his children.
I wish there were a way to save him from his current state.
Doctors had given their word that he would live but no promise of him ever waking up again.
Looking at Amiel, I hope Seven would understand why I had to break the deal about never showing my face to her.
But it would continue to stand as long as she doesn't know who I am.
By the time she does, I'll make sure that we were close to the goal. That meant we already infiltrated the enemy base and cut off all other connections that could keep it running once the head was killed.
"Tch," I interrupted, calling Amiel's and the old man's attention. "Take her money, old man. She seems to have an abundant supply if she carelessly throws it away like this."
Amiel turned to me, the expression on her face clearly showing her disapproval.
"How I spend my money is none of your business."
I shrugged.
"I wasn't trying to butt in, lady. Tch. You must think of me as an enemy."
"I do."
I chuckled.
"So do I."