Defiance
Orm’s heels clicked against the polished airport floor as she strode through the terminal, her patience already thinning. The moment her plane landed, she had called her phone—twice. No answer.
She exhaled sharply, dialing once more. Nothing.
Her jaw clenched. That cleaning lady better not have lost her phone.
Without wasting another second, she made her way straight to the lounge where she had left it days ago. The receptionist’s eyes widened slightly at the sight of her, recognizing her at once. Orm didn’t bother with pleasantries.
“I need to speak with Lingling,” she said, her voice firm and authoritative. “Get her here immediately.”
The receptionist fumbled with her words before quickly nodding and picking up the phone. Orm sighed and walked toward one of the private chairs, crossing her legs as she made herself comfortable. She reached for a glass of juice from the refreshment table but frowned.
Juice? At this hour?
Without hesitation, she called over a staff member. “Martini.”
The young woman hesitated. “Miss, it’s still morning—”
“I know what time it is,” Orm interrupted smoothly. “Martini.”
The staff member hurried away, returning moments later with the drink. Orm took a slow sip, savoring the crisp taste. It wasn’t that she needed alcohol—it was simply that she refused to be told what she could or couldn’t have.
Minutes passed.
Orm glanced at her watch, irritation creeping up her spine. What is taking so long?
Finally, she heard footsteps approaching.
Lingling.
She looked just as unimpressed as Orm felt. Her uniform was slightly wrinkled, and her face glistened with a thin sheen of sweat—clearly, she had been working nonstop.
And now, here Orm was, sitting comfortably with a martini in hand, demanding her presence like some entitled heiress.
Lingling exhaled through her nose, folding her arms. “I was in the middle of work.”
Orm tilted her head, her lips curling slightly. “And yet, here you are.”
Lingling rolled her eyes. “What do you want?”
Orm took another slow sip of her drink, eyes locked onto the woman in front of her. So blunt. So unimpressed.
She placed her glass down. “My phone.”
Lingling sighed, fishing the phone from her apron pocket. She extended it toward Orm, but not before muttering, “Finally.”
Orm raised an eyebrow. “Excuse me?”
Lingling shrugged. “You left this here days ago. I’ve been stuck babysitting it. Not my problem if you took your time getting back.”
Orm chuckled. She was used to people scrambling to please her, used to them treating her with admiration—or fear.
But Lingling?
She didn’t care.
And for some reason, Orm found that highly entertaining.
Orm scoffed, her patience hanging by a thread. She narrowed her eyes at Lingling and said, “Watch your tone. Don’t you know who I am?”
Lingling let out a frustrated sigh, crossing her arms over her chest. “Some entitled heiress, obviously.”
Orm’s brows shot up at the audacity. She stood up, towering slightly over Lingling, and gave her a slow once-over from head to toe. How dare she talk to me like that?
“How dare you speak to me like that?” Orm asked, her voice sharp.
Lingling didn’t even flinch. “How dare you disturb my work just for a freaking cellphone that you misplaced?” she shot back.
Orm was taken aback. She was used to people bending over backward to accommodate her, not challenging her. Most people would have apologized and scurried away. But Lingling? She stood her ground.
Interesting.
Orm took a deep breath, clearing her thoughts. She had expected irritation, maybe an apology, but not this level of defiance. And oddly enough, she liked it.
Her voice dropped into something calmer, more composed. “I’m sorry,” she said, surprising even herself. “What time do you finish work?”
Lingling narrowed her eyes. “Why? So you can disturb me again?”
Orm exhaled sharply, her patience dwindling. “Just answer me. What time?”
Lingling remained silent, her expression unreadable.
Orm’s lips pressed into a thin line. “What time?” she repeated, her voice dropping an octave lower. “And don’t make me ask again. Otherwise, I’ll wait right here.”
Lingling frowned. “Then learn to wait.” And with that, she turned on her heel and walked away, not sparing Orm another glance.
Orm stood frozen for a moment, blinking in disbelief. What the hell is wrong with this woman?
She scoffed, shaking her head. No one had ever dared to dismiss her like that. It was absurd, irritating—and kind of entertaining.
Still, she wasn’t about to let it slide.
Orm turned to her assistant, Pring, and her driver, who had been waiting nearby. “Leave,” she ordered.
Pring hesitated. “Miss Orm, are you sure? We can—”
“I said leave,” Orm repeated, cutting her off.
Her assistant gave a small bow before stepping away, whispering something to the driver before they both disappeared from sight.
Orm straightened her suit, adjusted the cuff of her blazer, and walked back toward the private lounge seating. She wasn’t going anywhere.
If Lingling thought she could just brush her off, she was sorely mistaken.
Orm Sethratanapong doesn’t back down.
With a smirk, she settled into the chair and picked up another glass of alcohol from the refreshment table. If she was going to wait, she might as well enjoy herself.
She crossed her legs, sipped her drink, and watched the lounge staff bustling about.
And despite her irritation, she found herself waiting.
For the first time in her life, someone had the audacity to make her wait.
And damn it—she wanted to see what Lingling would do next.
____________________
Orm sat back in her chair, eyes flicking between her iPad and the lounge around her. She checked her watch. Three hours.
She wasn’t used to waiting, let alone being ignored. Yet here she was, still sitting in the same spot, swirling the remnants of her martini in one hand while her other scrolled through work emails.
Despite keeping herself occupied, her attention constantly drifted toward Lingling, who was busy cleaning the lounge. She really made me wait.
Orm smirked, an idea forming in her mind. She glanced at her glass and, without hesitation, tipped it over. The clear liquid spilled onto the floor, the soft splash barely noticeable in the quiet luxury of the lounge.
Lingling snapped her head in Orm’s direction, eyes narrowing in clear frustration. Orm met her gaze and mouthed, “Oops.”
Lingling exhaled sharply, clearly holding back her irritation. Without a word, she grabbed a mop and trudged over. She kneeled slightly to clean the mess, strands of hair sticking to her forehead from exhaustion.
Orm watched her closely, her teasing grin faltering. Up close, Lingling really looked tired. Sweat glistened on her forehead, her uniform slightly wrinkled from a long day of work.
For the first time since this whole game started, Orm felt… guilty.
“I’m sorry,” Orm said smoothly, though it didn’t sound as playful as before. “It slipped.”
Lingling ignored her, focusing on cleaning. Her silence made Orm uncomfortable in a way she couldn’t explain.
Then, across the lounge, another guest accidentally knocked over a drink at the counter.
Lingling sighed, finishing up Orm’s mess before hurrying off to handle the new one.
Orm watched as she moved across the room, her body language heavy with exhaustion. She didn’t like it.
That’s Lingling’s job, but… something about it irritated her.
Orm sat up, debating whether to call out to her. “Lingling—”
But Lingling was already bending down, wiping the other spill, not paying her the slightest attention.
Orm clenched her jaw, gripping the edge of the table.
She won’t even look at me now?
For once, Orm Sethratanapong felt something entirely unfamiliar.
And she didn’t like it.
__________________
As soon as the clock hit 5 PM, Lingling let out a relieved sigh. Finally. Another exhausting shift was over.
She walked briskly to the locker room, eager to get out of her uniform and into something more comfortable. Pulling out a simple t-shirt and a pair of jeans from her locker, she changed quickly, slipping on her crossbody bag and adjusting her glasses.
No designer labels. No flashy accessories. Just her.
Unlike Orm, who was always wrapped in luxury, looking like she had just stepped out of a fashion magazine.
Lingling didn’t care.
She just wanted to go home, eat, and sleep.
As she stepped out of the lounge, she barely noticed Orm.
But Orm noticed her.
Orm had been watching, waiting, expecting some kind of acknowledgment. But Lingling walked right past her, completely ignoring her existence.
What the hell?
Orm stood up abruptly, not bothering to smooth out her expensive blazer as she hurried after her.
“Hey!” she called out.
Lingling kept walking.
Orm frowned and picked up her pace. “Hey! Why did you leave me? I was waiting for you!”
Still, Lingling didn’t slow down. She didn’t even turn her head.
Frustrated, Orm grabbed her arm, forcing her to stop.
Lingling spun around, eyes sharp. “What do you want? You already have your phone. Now leave me alone.”
Orm tightened her grip, refusing to let go. “I said stop.”
Lingling yanked her arm back, her glare unwavering. “No, you stop. Stop acting like some entitled heiress because I am not here for your entertainment.”
Orm blinked, momentarily stunned.
No one talked to her like that.
She was Orm Sethratanapong. People fawned over her. They chased after her.
But this woman?
She couldn’t care less.
That was… new.
And somehow, it entertained her even more.
Orm exhaled, forcing herself to stay calm. “Look, I just want to invite you to dinner. That’s all.”
Lingling scoffed. “Dinner?”
Orm nodded, giving her best charming smile. “Just one dinner. And I promise, after that, I’ll leave you alone.”
That was a lie.
She had no intention of stopping.
Lingling studied her for a moment, then sighed in resignation. “Fine. One dinner. Then leave me alone.”
Orm’s lips curled into a satisfied smirk. “Sure.”
She pulled out her phone and called her driver.
“Pick us up. Take us to somewhere nice.”
She glanced at Lingling.
This is going to be interesting.