BIA Ch. 9

He truly couldn’t have imagined it. That Wiseman would be such a handsome man. Moreover, the atmosphere was different from what he had expected. Wiseman’s surname and the fact that he was an Ivy League graduate led him to vaguely assume he would be a sharp-looking man, like a tax accountant but that wasn’t the case at all.

Rather, he projected a gentle and relaxed image. Perhaps it was the restaurant lighting. The slightly yellowish lighting gave his brown hair and light brown eyes a softer glow, which might have contributed to Isaiah’s misperception.

In fact, as Isaiah had expected, there was a high probability that Wiseman had a cold, harsh demeanor and was just as intimidating. After all, he was mafia. And even before he became mafia, it was said he had beaten two men nearly to death and crippled them for life simply because they had started a fight with him in a bar. Whatever the truth, he probably wasn’t a normal person.

But what did it matter? He was so handsome.

Isaiah had thought Chester was quite pretty, a doll-like handsome man but next to Bran he just looked like a child. He had heard they were the same age, but that’s how they appeared. It felt even more pronounced because Bran had an above-average physique, while Chester was as thin as a fashion model.

Isaiah felt truly sorry. As his lover, he really hadn’t wanted to think this but just looking at their faces it was clear Chester had already lost. If he voiced this thought, people would scoff and ask who chose a boss based on their looks but he didn’t care. If he were given the right to vote, it would definitely be for Bran.

Isaiah was staring, lost in thought, forgetting where he was, when…

“…….”

Bran suddenly looked his way. Only then did Isaiah realize he had been staring too intently and quickly averted his gaze. After looking away for a moment, he glanced back, and Bran was still staring at him. Their eyes met. Startled, Isaiah quickly turned his head away completely this time.

“What’s the matter?”

Manny finally spoke, noticing Isaiah’s flustered movements.

“No, I think I made eye contact with Wiseman….”

“What?”

Manny glanced nervously towards Bran.

“Not at all? He’s not looking this way.”

“Oh, really? Then that’s good.”

Isaiah said, embarrassed. Manny looked at him for a moment, then whispered in a low voice,

“Hey, just so you know, you absolutely cannot let Bran notice your current state. If he does, it’s all over. Got it?”

Isaiah nodded silently. Manny gave him a look that clearly conveyed his lack of confidence.

“Manny.”

“What.”

Isaiah lowered his voice, just as Manny had.

“Manny, who do you think the boss will nominate as successor tomorrow?”

“I don’t know. Who cares who he nominates?”

Manny clicked his tongue.

“You just have to kill that bastard.”

The fact that Manny clicked his tongue and sounded irritated, even though he could have just answered the question, suggested he also believed there was a high probability of Bran being chosen as successor.

Most of Chester’s subordinates including Manny, probably supported Chester because he was the boss’s son. Manny, in particular, must have endured Chester’s foul temper and constant nagging, clinging to the hope that Chester would become boss. It was understandable that he would be on edge, facing the prospect of losing that position to a newcomer.

Isaiah sighed and stood up.

“Where are you going?”

Manny asked immediately, his eyes widening.

“Restroom.”

Isaiah replied curtly and left.

However, no matter how much he searched he couldn’t find the restroom. After wandering for a while, Isaiah stopped a passing employee and asked for directions. The employee kindly offered to escort him.

As expected of a high-end restaurant, the restroom was very large and clean. Moreover, perhaps because there were no other customers around, it was completely empty. It was so large and quiet that Isaiah hesitated to use the facilities out in the open. He ended up entering the nearest private stall.

After relieving himself, as he was leaving, he was grabbed by the collar and shoved back inside.

“Wha—!”

Due to the sudden situation, he couldn’t even scream and ended up sitting down on the toilet. When he came to his senses later and looked up, Bran was standing in front of him.

“Hello.”

“Hi.”

Unlike Isaiah, who was so shocked he couldn’t close his mouth, Bran looked very relaxed. He locked the bathroom door with the same gentle smile he would use when greeting Chester.

“Did you like the gift?”

“Uh… … ?”

Gift? Isaiah blinked. What gift?

When he couldn’t even ask and just stared blankly, Bran narrowed his eyes slightly and smiled even more deeply.

“Was it too big of a gift for our little bird?”

For a moment, he remembered the beautiful handwriting left on the receipt.

You have a surprisingly cute sleeping face. It doesn’t suit you. But I understand why you were named after that cute little bird. There’s a gift at the front door. I hope you like it.

Finally, Isaiah screamed and bolted upright.

“Wait…, was it that thing at the front door? Did you do that?”

“Or not?”

Bran still smiled sweetly and held Isaiah’s shoulder.

“Could it be that someone else went there after that?”

But only his face was friendly. Bran, who forced Isaiah back down onto the toilet with a terrifying grip, smiled with his eyes crinkling at the corners. It was a captivating, charming eye smile, but Isaiah felt a chill run down his spine. He had no time to be moved by the fact that this frighteningly handsome man had left that sweet message. Because the gift was that, that… the corpse with a broken neck.

“Huh? Isaiah?”

Hearing his own name in Bran’s voice was sacred, almost majestic. It was probably because the already deep voice resonated off the tiled walls, becoming even deeper and more imposing.

“No, that’s… probably not, maybe….”

“It sounds like you’re not sure.”

“That’s….”

I have amnesia. So I don’t know what happened last night. I don’t even remember what I would have done with you.

––If he said that, he would never believe him. He couldn’t even say it anyway.

“So, what’s the answer?”

Bran asked, crossing his arms. When Isaiah looked up, the smile had already disappeared from his face.

“What answer?”

“An answer to the gift.”

“…….”

I’m going crazy.

Isaiah now began to break out in a cold sweat on his forehead. It seemed like Bran had a specific reason for putting the body there. He couldn’t ask what it was here…. What should he do? Manny had told him he should never let Bran find out about his condition.

“Well, that’s…”

Isaiah, who finally managed to speak, put on a look of deep thought.

“Could I have a little more time to think about it?”

“You still need time to think about it?”

“It’s good to be cautious about these kinds of things.”

Bran smiled again. Isaiah’s heart seemed to shrivel at the unreadable expression.

“Alright. Until when?”

“Um… well. Two days, no, three days should be enough.”

Isaiah blurted out whatever came to mind.

“Three days.”

Bran repeated, his arms still crossed.

“So, that’s your answer.”

Nodding, he reached inside his jacket and calmly pulled out a gun.

“No, no!”

Isaiah screamed.

“That’s not my answer! Actually, I don’t remember anything right now!”

“I see.”

Bran pulled back the slide of the pistol. With a click, the trigger was pulled, and the muzzle was immediately pressed against Isaiah’s head. Isaiah, half out of his mind, grabbed Bran’s gun with both hands.

“No, really! I have amnesia!”

“What?”

Bran asked back with an expressionless face. The fact that he asked so coldly, without anger, was even more terrifying.

“I, I’m serious.”

Isaiah spoke desperately, trembling.

“I woke up this morning and I don’t remember anything. No, I do remember, but they aren’t my memories. I’m Isaiah Diaz, but everyone calls me Isaiah Cole. I’m, I’m definitely a nineteen-year-old college student, but they say I’m not. They say I’m a mafia member, more than ten years older. And that I’ve killed a lot of people… a terrifying number of people. That I did.”

The more he spoke, the more his throat choked up with an inexplicable sadness and sense of injustice. And finally, tears spilled over. Isaiah sobbed, wiping his tears furiously with his palms.

“It’s not a lie. I’m not saying this to deceive you. It’s true, please believe me.”

“…….”

“Please, Bran.”

Bran simply stared silently at the pleading Isaiah, then finally lowered the gun.

“You certainly don’t seem to be yourself.”

Unlike Chester, who carried a gun in his jacket pocket, Bran dutifully wore a holster strap. This meant it wasn’t for intimidation like Chester’s, but clearly meant for actual use.

“…….”

More than the relief of having survived, his whole body was tense with the fear that he might pull out the gun again at any moment. Bran asked Isaiah, who was sitting on the toilet rubbing his face with his hands,

“Does Chester know?”

“Huh?”

“Does Chester know about this?”

“He knows. Chester and Manny know.”

“I see.”

Bran buttoned his jacket with a casual air. Isaiah was taken aback by his nonchalant reaction to such an unbelievable story.