We got up around 1 PM. Phu rubbed his eyes, turned to me, and asked, "Still tired?"
I shook my head. "No, why?"
He yawned. "Well, I'm hungry. Let's go out for a meal."
I stretched and smiled. "Let's just walk to the stall nearby. They have pretty good mixed rice dishes."
Phu blinked, then nodded with a grin. "Your hometown's feeding me well."
We washed our faces and headed out to the stall. It was just a short walk, the sun warm but not too harsh. We grabbed our food—simple mixed rice with a bit of everything—and made our way back home.
While Phu set the place, I started preparing drinks. Just something light—a homemade mocktail with lime, soda, and a bit of mint.
We brought everything out to the garden. It wasn't big, but it had charm. Mâe always loved this little corner of the house, with her potted plants and old rattan chairs.
We sit under the soft afternoon light, sharing bites, teasing each other, and laughing over nothing. For a while, it felt like time slowed down—just the two of us, and the comfort of being home.
Phu's phone rang.
He glanced at the screen, then looked at me. "I need to take this call."
I nodded, still busy clearing up our plates. He stepped away, and I could hear the faint murmur of his voice in the distance.
Ten minutes later, he came back. His expression had shifted—brows slightly drawn, lips pressed in thought.
"What happened?" I asked gently.
He let out a breath. "My brother wants to see me… I might need to leave today."
I noticed the tension in his shoulders. "It's okay, babe," I said, placing a hand on his arm. "Please go and settle things. I'll see you tomorrow, yeah?"
A small smile played on his lips, grateful but tired.
"Let's get ready," I added, nudging him. "I'll drop you at the airport. I guess that's how rich guys do it, huh?"
He laughed softly. "Yes, honey."
I was on my way back home, completely unaware that somewhere—someone's eyes were quietly tracking my every move.
When I reached home, a message popped up from my sister:"I'm staying out tonight. Leaving straight after work tomorrow. Don't wait up."
I sighed and tossed my phone on the table. I had been hoping Dad would be home at least. I called him.
"Dad, what time will you be back tonight?"
"I don't know yet, Ian," he said, his voice tired. "Might be late. Don't wait for me. Sleep well."
"Okay," I replied, trying not to sound too disappointed.
It had been a long time since I was completely alone at home. The silence felt… strange. Not bad, just different. Like something was missing—and I knew exactly what it was.
By 6 PM, I had a simple meal, mostly leftovers. After cleaning up, I headed for a shower, letting the warm water wash away the feeling of emptiness that crept in.
I was in the shower longer than I thought. By the time I stepped out, it was already past 7 PM.
I checked my phone, hoping to see a message from Phu—but there was nothing.
My heart sank just a little.
After a moment of hesitation, I typed:"You home?"
Five minutes later, he replied:"Yes. Today's one of my father's wife's birthdays, so they wanted to celebrate. They asked me to stay for the evening."
Reading that, I finally exhaled—relieved.
I hadn't even realized how tense I was. Some part of me had worried—worried that maybe his brother had said something, or worse, done something to upset him.
But knowing he was safe, just caught up in family matters, helped me breathe easier again.
Out of nowhere, I heard a voice behind me.
"So… what did my brother say?"
I froze. My heart skipped a beat as I slowly turned around. The hallway light was dim, and shadows stretching across the floor. But I recognized that voice immediately.
Phaisan Inthanon.
Standing just inside my house.
I glanced toward the front door—it was closing.
Panic crept in. I clutched my phone tighter. "H-How did you get in?"
He smiled, calm, calculated. "Ian… do you remember what I told you the first time we met?"
My pulse quickened. I knew exactly what he meant. His words echoed in my memory:"You're being given time to leave with your dignity intact. Then you'll see how serious the Inthanon family can be."
I held his gaze. "Yes… I remember."
Phaisan tilted his head slightly. "Then you should've expected this, right?"
I swallowed hard. I knew I needed to stay calm—keep him talking. "What do you want?"
He gestured toward the living room. "Let's talk. Over there."
As he stepped aside, I noticed them—figures in the background. At least six men. They weren't just standing. They were waiting.
I knew then… this wasn't just a conversation. And I needed to act smart—fast.
We sat down in the living room. My palms were damp, phone still gripped in one hand—just in case.
Phaisan leaned back, crossing one leg over the other like he owned the place.
"So," he began casually, "when are you planning to leave my brother?"
I held my ground. "That's something between me and Phu. Now, why are you really here?"
He gave a short laugh, almost amused. "Fair enough." He adjusted the cuff of his sleeve. "Phu is still a child in my eyes. We're fifteen years apart, you know? I practically watched him grow up. And despite everything… he's the only real force left in the Inthanon family."
He paused, his gaze sharpening.
"So yes, I have a soft spot for my baby brother. But I also know what's best for him."
Something was chilling about how calm he was—gentle words wrapped around a very real threat.
I didn't look away. "If you're here because you think I'm hurting him, then you don't know your brother as well as you think."
He smiled thinly. "Oh, I know him very well. That's why I'm here."
I glanced at the clock. It was already 10 PM.
I took a breath, steadying my voice. "If you have nothing else to say, you should leave."
Phaisan's face shifted. The casual smile vanished, replaced by something darker. Colder.
He tilted his head slightly. "I believe your sister is on her way somewhere… what was her name again?"
He turned to one of the men behind him. "Mayuree Miller, wasn't it?"
My blood ran cold.
"How old is she, Ian?" he asked, his voice smooth but full of threat.
I froze, breath catching in my throat. My eyes stung.
"Don't you dare touch her," I said, my voice shaking.
He gave a mock look of surprise. "Me? I'm right here, Ian. How could I possibly touch her?"Then he held up his phone—his screen lit up with a photo.
Mayuree.Walking home with a friend.Taken tonight.
My heart dropped.
I grabbed my phone and dialed her number with trembling fingers. She picked up on the second ring.
"Hi Phi? I just reached the block. What happened?"
"Mayuree, go up right now. Lock the door. I'll call you back."
She paused. "What's going on?"
"Just do what I say," I said, firm and low, trying not to let her hear the panic in my voice.
"Okay, phi."
She hung up.
I lowered the phone slowly, glaring at Phaisan. "What do you want from me?"
He smiled again—but this time, it didn't reach his eyes.
Phaisan leaned back, folding his arms. "Fine. Now we can talk properly."
His voice was calmer now, but the danger was still there—just under the surface."I want you to leave Phu. And I know he won't leave you. So… you'll have to be the one to walk away."
I stared at him, locking eyes. "Why are you doing this?"
There was no smile this time. Just the truth. Cold and unapologetic.
"Because I want what I want," he said flatly. "I want my brother to marry the girl our family picked for him. That way, I get control of the business. You know exactly what I mean, Ian."
He leaned forward slightly. "And between you and him… you're easier to push."
My jaw clenched. I knew I had to do something. I couldn't just sit there and let this happen.
I picked up my phone and quickly dialed Phu's number—he needed to know. He needed to hear everything.
But before the call could even connect, one of Phaisan's guards grabbed me from behind. His grip was strong, painful. My phone slipped from my hand and clattered to the floor.
"No more surprises," Phaisan said coldly, standing up as he walked over. "We'll finish this conversation properly."
My chest tightened, not just from fear, but from fury. I had to find a way out. Not just for me. But for Phu… and Mayuree.
Phaisan's expression turned even darker as he dragged me toward my room. "This is the room you and my brother had your little fun in, right?" he sneered.
I struggled in his grip. "Please… stop. Don't do this." My voice cracked. I was begging now, desperate.
He only smirked. "Don't worry. Your sister's not my type… but you? You're exactly what I want."
I felt sick. Trapped.
"We need to fix that attitude of yours, Ian. Saying no, like you think it matters."
Suddenly, my phone rang from where he'd thrown it. I knew it was Phu.
My heart leapt—but Phaisan picked it up and silenced it.
It rang again. Again. Ten times. I could only pray he was getting worried.
Finally, the ringing stopped.
Phaisan looked at the screen and smiled coldly. "There. Peace and quiet. Now, where were we?"
He pushed me toward the bed, his hands going to his shirt. Panic took over—I tried to run, but the door was blocked. The guard didn't move.
"Please… this isn't right. Don't do this," I said, voice shaking. "I don't understand. What did I ever do to you?"
He grabbed me by the hair, his face inches from mine.
"You made him happy," he spat. "Phu smiles now—laughs, even. He was supposed to be cold like the rest of us. And now he looks… free. Because of you."
Tears blurred my vision. "I'm sorry. Please. Just don't do this…"
Phaisan yanked off his shirt and grabbed at mine, tearing the fabric with force. I begged—again.
"Please, Phaisan… don't. Stop. Please…"
He didn't listen. His face pressed against my neck, and I cried out as he bit down—hard—leaving bruises behind. My body trembled, my voice cracked under the weight of fear.
Then— A loud gunshot echoed from downstairs.
Phaisan froze.
His head jerked toward the door, face hardening.
"What the hell was that?" he barked at the guard by the door.
No reply.
"I said—what happened?!"
Still silence.
He cursed under his breath and moved toward the door, motioning for one of his men to follow.
As soon as he stepped out, I scrambled to the corner of the room. My breath came in short, broken gasps. I pulled a blanket off the bed and wrapped it around myself, curling up tightly, trying to disappear.
Tears streamed down my face. My whole body shook. The room was spinning. I couldn't think—only feel the panic, the violation, the shame, the helplessness.
I cried, silently at first, then louder. And I didn't even know who I was crying for—me, Phu, Mayuree—or just the part of me that felt shattered beyond repair.
I heard footsteps pounding up the stairs—fast, heavy, coming closer.
My chest tightened.
No… no, not again. Please… stop. I don't want this. Not again…
I curled tighter in the corner, shaking, whispering through broken sobs, "Please… stop… I don't want—"
The door burst open.
"Phi!"
I flinched, bracing myself—until I heard her voice.
It was Mayuree.
She rushed to me, her face pale and shocked. "Phi… what happened?"
I couldn't stop crying. My voice cracked as I rocked back and forth, blanket clutched tightly around me.
"I was… Mayuree, I was… I didn't do anything… it was him…"
Tears spilled down my cheeks. My words barely made sense.
"I'm sorry… I'm so sorry… for everything…"
Mayuree didn't hesitate. She dropped beside me and wrapped her arms around me, holding me like she did when we were kids and I had bad dreams.
"Ian—breathe," she whispered, voice trembling but firm. "You're okay now. I'm here. You're safe. Just breathe with me, okay? In and out… I'm not going anywhere."
Her hand gently rubbed my back as she realized I was having a full-blown panic attack. She stayed close, anchoring me with her warmth, her voice, her love.
And for the first time since it all began, I felt just a little less alone.
There were voices downstairs—loud, angry, arguing. But I couldn't make out the words.
My mind felt foggy. My thoughts were scattered. Everything was too loud, too heavy. My body felt like it was floating and sinking at the same time.
I clutched the blanket tighter, still trembling. "What… what happened?" I asked Mayuree in a whisper. "Who… fired the gun?"
She looked at me, eyes soft but serious. "It was Phu. He was the one who fired the shot earlier."
My eyes widened slightly, tears still hanging on my lashes.
"After you called me, I got worried," she continued gently. "I knew something wasn't right. You didn't sound like you. So I called Phu… and when I asked if he was with you, he said no. That's when I told him—something's happening, and you're not telling me what."
She took a shaky breath, holding my gaze. "I told him: I'm going home. And if he didn't hear from me within three hours, he should call the police."
My heart twisted.
"I drove for over an hour to get here," she said. "Phu couldn't wait. He couldn't reach you at all. So… he took a private plane and flew straight here. We got here around the same time."
I blinked, still struggling to absorb everything.
"When we arrived, we heard you shouting from upstairs. We saw some men outside the room—you weren't alone. That's why Phu fired into the air."
A fresh wave of emotion crashed over me. I couldn't speak—I just leaned into her hug, breathing shakily, holding onto her as if I'd fall apart without it.
I whispered, "I want to see Phu."
Mayuree hesitated. "Now? They're still talking…"
"Please," I said, barely above a breath.
She gave a small nod and helped me up, her arm supporting me as we walked slowly toward the living room.
From the stairs, I could already hear raised voices.
Phu and Phaisan were arguing—sharp words exchanged under tight control. I couldn't make out everything, but I knew… I knew it was about me.
Then I stepped into view.
"Phu…" I called out, my voice fragile.
He turned.
His eyes landed on me—and I saw it instantly. The change. His face fell, all the fury draining into something softer, more devastated.
His gaze dropped to my torn clothing… the red marks blooming across my chest. I saw it—the pain in his expression, the storm behind his eyes.
And I panicked.
"I didn't ask for this, Phu—he wouldn't stop—I kept saying no, I was terrified—I swear, I didn't do anything…"
My voice broke. I started to shake, to mumble. The words tumbled out, messy and desperate.
I couldn't stop crying.
Phu rushed to me and wrapped his arms around me, holding me tight like he was trying to protect me from the whole world.
"Ian… It's okay. I'm here."
His voice was gentle, but fierce with love.
And in that moment, something inside me shattered. I broke down in his arms, sobbing like a child—because finally, I know I'm in safe hands.