Next Time We Meet, I’ll Let You Kill Me - Chapter 2

“Ah. Lucky bastard. How nice would it be if I could end up on Liselotte Botany’s table too.”

A man dressed as a waiter approached from the corridor, scattering a sly smile.

It looked like the rumor had already spread all over the company. Every guy she ran into kept tossing some annoying comment her way.

“Sorry, but you’re not even appetizer material.”

Clicking her tongue in irritation, Liselotte flicked up the tray he was holding.

The waiter wobbled with an “Uh, ah,” and the mountain of plates went crashing down onto the carpeted floor.

“That damn woman…!”

A stream of curses flew at her back, but the steady click of her heels continued forward without slowing.

Doug’s restaurant.

It was the workplace where Doug Hozan served as manager. In truth, it was one of the company’s branches disguised as an ordinary restaurant.

Since it occupied a prime location in the center of the city, it did legitimately operate as a business as well. Liselotte worked here as the piano performer.

She had barely sat down on the velvet chair when another female employee hurried over to whisper.

“Hey, the new main dish is really….”

“Yeah. It’s that troublemaking Hugo Schwartz.”

How many times had she said this now? Liselotte opened her sheet music with a fed-up expression.

The woman ignored her mood and leaned her body over the grand piano’s lid.

“I saw the photo. He looks insanely delicious. How’d you catch such a big meal? Don’t tell me you crawled into Doug’s bed for it?”

Before, they used to whisper behind her back. Now they insulted her outright. They must’ve changed tactics after realizing she didn’t respond no matter how much they gossiped.

Honestly, why did low-grade people all talk the same way? Calling someone ‘delicious’?

Ugh. She’d planned to behave herself here.

Liselotte closed the sheet music and smiled sweetly.

“Your name was… Martha?”

“What?”

“No? Margaret?”

‘Whatever.’ Liselotte waved it off casually and jerked her chin toward the staff door.

“Go check the mirror in the locker room. You’ll understand why I’m the chef and not you.”

Even though the woman’s nametag clearly said ‘Amanda,’ Liselotte kept smiling and called her by the wrong name.

“My playing might be the worst in the whole restaurant. But I’m still the pianist, and you’re still the waitress. Ever wonder why?”

That last line, far more humiliating than the wrong name, made Amanda’s face turn as red as the carpet.

“I’m busy, so shoo.”

Waving her hand like brushing away a bug, Liselotte gently placed her delicate fingers on the keys. Amanda ground her teeth but had no choice except to stomp away.

In an atmosphere suited for a graceful melody, what rang out instead was the bright, bouncy tune of Chopsticks.

Pretending to play nonchalantly, Liselotte recalled the events of the previous night.

The moment Hugo Schwartz suddenly spoke to her.

Even thinking about it again made the hairs on her whole body stand on end. She’d acted calm in front of Amanda, but she’d nearly failed before she even had the chance to start cooking.

The main dish was not an opponent to take lightly. Without a doubt, he was the kind who would harm not only women but also children and the elderly without hesitation. He’d smiled throughout the conversation, but in that fleeting instant, the glint above his dark eyes had unmistakably been killing intent.

Who did he think he was fooling? Did he really think he could hide that from someone who specialized in this field?

After that casual ‘Hello,’ a black leather glove had waved right in front of her eyes. If not for the body she’d trained so rigorously, her legs might have buckled the moment he noticed her.

She’d switched cars over and over and never once gotten close enough for someone to notice. She’d done this ‘cooking’ hundreds of times and had never been caught tailing anyone, not even once. So how the hell did he figure it out?

‘You’ve been following me for days. Journalist?’

His sweet voice sounded lazy at first, but he wasn’t drunk at all. Under the gentle red lighting, his features were so vivid it gave her goosebumps.

The silver hair fluttering softly in the night breeze above her head belonged to the man looking down at her. He didn’t feel real.

Some said he inherited the silver from his foreign mother. Others insisted he dyed it for style. Whatever the truth was, the man seen up close exuded such an overwhelming presence that she momentarily lost her breath.

It wasn’t because he was tall and broad like a warrior. It was because of those pitch-black eyes, impossible to read.

Men who approached based on looks alone were unsettling. But men whose thoughts you couldn’t read were dangerous.

Hugo Schwartz was undeniably the latter.

The moment she met those eyes head-on, her instincts screamed. One mistake here, even a small one, and everything would end.

Get a grip. Liselotte Botany.

‘Sorry if I made you uncomfortable. I just didn’t know how to talk to someone I fell for at first sight….’

Liselotte blinked her big eyes and hunched her shoulders, innocent as a clueless young lady who knew nothing, with just a touch of awkwardness added in.

‘So… I just followed you around. Pathetically.’

It was the kind of excuse only someone with his appearance could get away with. At least his outer shell was attractive enough that women stalking him wasn’t unbelievable.

‘Please fall for it.’ Liselotte begged silently as she watched his reaction.

‘….’

His gaze stripped her bare as if peeling her apart piece by piece. His emotionless eyes traveled slowly from her head to her toes, then back up again.

Only when her throat dried and her fingertips turned cold did Hugo tilt his head and ask,

‘What’s this pretty girl’s name?’

Every word that came out of his mouth was so cheap it made her nauseous. If it weren’t for that polished exterior, she would’ve already punched him square in the face.

But eliminating the main dish wasn’t the mission. So Liselotte gave the fake name she’d prepared in advance.

‘Liselotte. Liselotte Graham.’

She’d only changed her last name.

Hugo whispered, “Liselotte,” tasting each syllable, then smiled with his eyes. He was smiling, yet the back of her neck prickled with goosebumps.

‘Pretty.’

He slowly tucked a fallen strand of her hair behind her ear. The cold leather glove against her cheek made her flinch. Of course, even that reaction was intentional.

‘Can I call you Lottie?’

She shouldn’t have said yes. No, she shouldn’t have accepted this mission in the first place.

If she hadn’t ignored the storm of warnings roaring through her body… if she’d taken them seriously… she wouldn’t be walking straight toward the disaster waiting for her in the near future.

Completely oblivious to what lay ahead, Liselotte gave him a perfectly crafted smile.

The ingredients had been laid out. The cooking had already begun.

“The main dish is here.”

The whisper from a floor server snapped Liselotte out of her thoughts.

She turned her head, and the man whose image still lingered vividly from last night filled her vision.

“…!”

Hugo Schwartz stood at the restaurant entrance.

The moment the target appeared, the air shifted sharply. Servers continued guiding guests to their seats and setting glasses and water, but their eyes darted everywhere.

‘No one said the main dish was coming today.’

‘When did the cooking even start?’’

The gazes flying toward Liselotte were all throwing similar questions at her. But she was just as taken aback as they were.

He came this quickly?

After telling him her name, she had tacked on the fact that she worked at Doug’s restaurant….

It had just passed eleven in the morning. At this hour, someone like him should normally still be at the mansion.

Liselotte unconsciously resumed the performance she had stopped and watched the man.

Hugo had moved to a table not far from the piano stage and was, once again, dressed in a flashy suit today.

The way he shrugged off his burgundy jacket and flung it to a server was the height of swagger. With no tie and his shirt unbuttoned halfway, the solid build of his body was laid bare without mercy.

Shoving both hands into his pants pockets, he perched on the edge of the chair and stretched his legs out past the table. After crossing one leg at an angle, he sent Liselotte a light nod of greeting.

Hugo’s mouth curled up slowly, as if he had been born without any sense of decorum or shame. From that brazen smile, she could almost hear his inner voice saying, ‘So you really do work here.’

The reason he had gone so far as to change his routine to come to this restaurant.

It was to check whether her words were true. Was that really so important? What would he have done if it had been a lie?

He sat there with his arms crossed, fixing his gaze on her. No, observing was probably the more accurate word.

Now that he had finished confirming it, it was hard to guess what he was thinking. On the surface, he looked like nothing more than a rich punk, yet the way he looked at her was almost like a seasoned politician.

Liselotte slowly began to play the next piece. A peaceful melody flowed on, but inside her mind, it was no different from a battlefield riddled with bullets.

Since her tailing had been discovered, the chance for a natural first meeting had already failed.

By the time the performance neared its end, she had to fully become Liselotte Graham, the empty-headed woman who followed the man she had fallen for without a plan.