Danger ⚠️

After everything, after the gunfire, the chaos, the injuries, the pain—there was finally a moment of stillness.

Ling woke up slowly, her body heavy with exhaustion, her mind foggy from the whirlwind of the past few days. The first thing she registered was warmth. Solid. Familiar.

Orm.

She was curled against Ling’s side, one arm draped over her waist, her face pressed into Ling’s shoulder. The steady rise and fall of her breathing was the only sound in the room, aside from the faint rustling of trees outside.

Ling closed her eyes again, letting herself feel. They were safe. They were together.

For the first time in months, the weight of fear wasn’t pressing against her chest.

She shifted slightly, careful not to wake Orm, but the movement made Orm grumble, her hold tightening instinctively.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Orm’s voice was thick with sleep, husky and low in a way that made Ling’s heart stutter.

Ling smiled, pressing a soft kiss to the top of her head. “Nowhere, baby. I’m right here.”

Orm hummed, satisfied, but didn’t let go. Instead, she buried herself further into Ling’s embrace, her fingers gripping at the fabric of Ling’s shirt like she still wasn’t convinced she was real.

Ling sighed, running a hand up and down Orm’s back, fingers tracing small, lazy circles.

“I missed this,” she admitted softly. “Just… being with you.”

Orm lifted her head slightly, her eyes half-lidded but filled with something warm, something gentle. “Me too my love.”

Ling took a shaky breath, reaching up to tuck a strand of Orm’s hair behind her ear. “I know you’re still mad at me.”

Orm exhaled sharply, dropping her forehead against Ling’s shoulder. “I should be,” she muttered.

Ling swallowed. “Are you?”

A pause. Orm lifted her head again, looking at her properly this time. She reached out, cupping Ling’s face, her thumb brushing over the faint bruise on her cheek, the cut on her lip.

Her lips parted, as if she wanted to say something—something scolding, something desperate, something full of love and frustration all at once—but in the end, all she did was sigh.

“No,” Orm admitted. “I just… I hate that you keep putting yourself in danger. But I get why you did it.”

Ling bit her lip, guilt settling in her chest. “I’m sorry.”

Orm sighed again, but this time, she leaned in, pressing the softest kiss to the corner of Ling’s mouth. “Just—let’s not talk about it today, okay? Just for today. I want to enjoy our rest”

Ling nodded, exhaling as relief flooded through her. She pressed a kiss on Orm’s lips before tugging back in bed for a little moment, savoring each other’s company.

A day. A single day where there was no fear, no threats, no running. Just them.

_______________________

By the time Ling and Orm made their way downstairs, the villa was already alive with movement.

Papa Oct was sitting in an armchair, his leg propped up on a cushion, a thick bandage wrapped around his thigh. Mae Koy was standing beside him, hands on her hips, shooting him the kind of glare only a wife could.

“You’re not moving from that chair today,” she stated firmly.

Papa Oct rolled his eyes. “I’m fine love.”

“You’re injured,” she countered. “And I swear, if you so much as try to leave this villa today, I will personally tie you to that chair. Undesrstppd?.”

Ling bit back a laugh at the defeated look on his face. Orm was like her mither, and ling was in the same position as Papa Oct.

Then, Mae Koy turned her attention to her daughter and Ling, her gaze softening slightly as she took them in.

Ling was still covered in faint bruises, stitches hidden beneath the loose fabric of her shirt. Orm, though moving better than before, was still visibly stiff, her wound still healing.

“You two look like you’ve been through hell,” Mae Koy sighed.

Ling smirked. “We have Mae.”

Orm hummed in agreement, stretching her arms before wincing slightly.

Papa Oct watched them carefully before shaking his head. “You both need to rest. Today, no arguments.”

Ling and Orm exchanged a glance before taking place at the table. For the first time in a long time, they all sat down for a proper meal together.

Papa Oct at the head of the table, Mae Koy by his side. The bodyguards, stationed nearby but relaxed for once. And Orm, sitting beside Ling, their fingers intertwined beneath the table.

It was peaceful. Warm. And for a moment, Ling let herself believe that maybe—just maybe—the worst was behind them.

She squeezed Orm’s hand. Orm squeezed back. They weren’t done fighting. But at least, for today, they could pretend. Ling was still thinking about what Papa Oct planned for Thanom, but she decided to leave that question for later, savouring dinner and peace. Once they were over, Orm and Ling decided to go back to the room while Mae Koy and Papa Oct stay together.

__________

The door to their room clicked shut with a soft finality, sealing them away from the outside world, Ling took a slow, shaky breath as she turned, her eyes falling on Orm, who was sitting on the edge of the bed, her body stiff, her lips pressed into a tight line as if even breathing too deeply would make the pain worse.

There was blood on Orm’s bandages again. Ling's throat tightened at the sight.

Orm had always been so strong—unyielding, unshaken—but now, sitting there, her face pale, her body bruised, and her wounds fresh, she looked so fragile. Too fragile.

Ling swallowed hard, her fingers curling into fists at her sides. This was her fault.

She walked forward on autopilot, forcing herself to breathe, forcing herself to focus. She needed to fix this. She couldn’t undo the past, couldn’t take back the pain Orm had endured, but she could at least do this.

“Let me help,” Ling murmured, kneeling before Orm, her hands hovering hesitantly over her.

Orm huffed out a small breath, her lips twitching in amusement despite the pain. “You look like you’re about to perform surgery.”

Ling didn’t smile. She couldn’t.

Instead, she reached for the bowl of warm water and a clean cloth that the doctor had left for them earlier.

“I need to clean your wounds,” she said softly, dipping the cloth into the water and wringing it out.

Orm noticed the way Ling’s hands trembled.

“Ling…”

“Just—just let me do this, okay?” Ling whispered, her voice barely holding together.

Orm didn’t argue.

She sat still as Ling pressed the damp cloth against her side, gently wiping away the blood that had seeped through her bandages. The silence between them was thick—heavy with words Ling couldn’t say, heavy with the pain she couldn’t take away.

Orm winced slightly when Ling touched a particularly deep wound. Ling jerked her hand back immediately.

“Did I hurt you?” Panic flared in her voice.

Orm shook her head, her fingers curling around Ling’s wrist, steadying her. “No. It’s okay. Just… keep going.”

Ling bit her lip, nodding. She continued her movements, slow and careful, but inside, she was screaming.

She hated this. She hated the blood, the bruises, the weakness in Orm’s body that wasn’t supposed to be there. Orm wasn’t supposed to be the one lying in bed, stitched up and fighting through pain.

That was supposed to be her. This should have never happened.

A fresh wave of guilt crashed over Ling, so strong that she felt sick.

This was her fault. All of it.

If she had been smarter, if she had listened, if she had  gone after Thanom awhile ago—

Ling’s hands shook again.

Orm noticed.

“Hey baby,” Orm said softly, her good hand reaching up, cupping Ling’s cheek.

Ling froze.

“You’re crying.”

Ling blinked. She hadn’t even noticed. Orm brushed her thumb against Ling’s skin, wiping away the tear that had slipped free.

“I’m so sorry,” Ling whispered, voice raw, broken.

Orm’s brows furrowed. “Why are you apologizing?”

Ling let out a shaky breath, her composure breaking. “Because you got hurt. Because I dragged you into this. Because I should have protected you. Because—”

“Stop.”

Orm’s voice was gentle but firm.

Ling’s breath hitched.

“This isn’t your fault,” Orm said, holding her gaze. “None of this is your fault, Ling.”

“But—”

“You didn’t pull the trigger,” Orm cut her off. “You didn’t force me into this. I chose to be here. With you.”

Ling’s chest ached. “And look where that got you.”

Orm sighed, shaking her head. “You think I regret this?”

Ling didn’t answer. Orm leaned forward slightly, wincing at the movement, but she didn’t stop until their foreheads were touching.

Ling’s breath stilled.

“I would take a thousand bullets before I ever let anything happen to you,” Orm murmured.

Ling squeezed her eyes shut, more tears slipping free.

“You are the love of my life, Ling.” Orm’s voice was barely above a whisper now, but it carried more weight than anything Ling had ever heard. “Nothing—not Thanom, not my injuries, not anything—will ever change that.”

Ling’s hands found Orm’s waist, her grip firm, desperate.

“You are mine,” Orm breathed.

Ling nodded against her, her voice breaking. “And you are mine.”

They stayed like that, tangled in each other’s warmth, in the quiet safety of their love.

Finally, after what felt like forever, Orm leaned back slightly.

A small smirk played at her lips.

“I swear, if you cry again, I’m gonna start thinking you’re soft.”

Ling huffed out a breath, half a laugh, half a sob. “Shut up silly.”

Orm grinned. And for the first time in what felt like forever, Ling smiled too.

She kissed Orm slowly, deeply, carefully—because Orm was still healing, but God, she needed this. She needed Orm. And as Orm kissed her back, Ling made a promise—a vow that no matter what, she would never let anything take this away from them again.

_____________

The day went smoothly and outside was quiet—too quiet for everything that had happened in the last twenty-four hours. Inside the safe house, the air was thick with exhaustion, tension, and the aftermath of a battle that had shaken them all to their core.

Mae Koy stood by the window, arms crossed, her sharp gaze focused on the vast darkness beyond. She had barely slept. She had barely let herself breathe since the moment Orm was shot, since Ling returned covered in bruises, since the nightmare of Thanom reached their doorstep.

And now, her husband sat across the room, too composed, too calm, too… Papa Oct.

She turned, eyes narrowing. “Are you going to tell me what happens next, or do I have to find out like I always do? Through whispers, half-truths, and after our daughter and her girlfriend almost get killed?”

Papa Oct sighed, rubbing his temple. “Mae—”

“Don’t Mae me,” she cut him off, her tone sharp. “I’m tired of your secrets, of your ‘I’ll handle it’ bullshit. I am your wife, and that girl upstairs is my daughter. I have the right to know what’s going to happen to the man who put a bullet in her.”

Papa Oct exhaled deeply, then leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees. “Thanom is taken care of.”

Mae Koy’s brows furrowed. “What does that mean?”

Papa Oct didn’t flinch under her scrutiny. “He’s in one of my warehouses. Under guard. Completely cut off. No calls, no messages, no men to run his orders. He’s done. But I’m keeping him there until I can ensure he has no way to reach Orm or Ling ever again.”

Mae Koy studied him carefully. “And then?”

“Then,” Papa Oct said, his voice heavy with finality, “we handle it legally. I have everything I need to make sure he rots in a cell for the rest of his miserable life.”

Mae Koy huffed out a breath, nodding slowly. “Good.”

But the tension in her shoulders didn’t ease.

Papa Oct tilted his head. “You still look like you want to kill me.”

Mae Koy gave him a sharp look. “Because I do.”

Papa Oct sighed, standing up and walking toward her, his hands slipping into his pockets. “I did what needed to be done.”

“You always do,” Mae Koy murmured. She shook her head, her voice softer now. “But you have to stop doing it alone. Damn, you and Ling are the same”

Papa Oct didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he reached out, taking her hand in his—warm, steady, familiar.

“I know,” he admitted.

Mae Koy squeezed his fingers briefly before pulling away, eyeing him suspiciously. “You’re being agreeable. That means you’re hiding something.”

Papa Oct chuckled. “I am not.”

She crossed her arms. “Oct.”

A small smirk played on his lips. “Fine. There’s something I haven’t told you yet.”

Mae Koy raised a brow, waiting.

Papa Oct’s smirk deepened. “Ling wants to marry our daughter.”

Silence.

Mae Koy blinked. Once. Twice. Then—

“What?”

Papa Oct chuckled. “She told me herself, in the car, before we went after Thanom. She said she intends to marry Orm. That she wants to build a future with her. To protect her, to love her, to give her the life she deserves.”

Mae Koy stared at him, her expression unreadable. Then, slowly, her lips curved into the widest smile he had seen in days.

“That little brat,” she muttered, but her voice was filled with nothing but warmth.

Papa Oct tilted his head. “You’re happy about it.”

Mae Koy laughed, shaking her head. “Of course, I am. I’ve known for a long time how much they love each other. But hearing it… knowing Ling said it to you, knowing she means it…” She exhaled, eyes softening. “It’s everything.”

Papa Oct nodded. “She loves Orm.”

Mae Koy’s gaze flickered toward the hallway, toward the room where their daughter was resting. “And Orm loves her. Deeply.”

Papa Oct hummed. “She was terrified last night. She tried to act tough, but I saw it in her eyes.”

Mae Koy sighed, sitting down on the couch. “She didn’t just fear losing Ling.” Her voice softened, thoughtful. “She feared what life would be without her.”

Papa Oct sat beside her. “I know.”

They sat in silence for a moment, the weight of everything settling between them.

Then, a mischievous glint entered Mae Koy’s eyes.

“So,” she said, crossing her legs. “What do you think? How long before Ling comes to ask for our blessings?”

Papa Oct smirked. “A week.”

Mae Koy laughed. “A week? I say three days.”

Papa Oct chuckled. “You’re on.”

Mae Koy grinned. “The moment Ling steps in front of us with that serious look on her face, I’m going to drag her inside and tell her she has our blessing before she even gets the words out.”

Papa Oct shook his head, but the warmth in his expression was unmistakable.

“She’ll take care of Orm,” he said after a pause.

Mae Koy smiled, leaning her head against his shoulder. “She already does.”

And with that, for the first time in days, they allowed themselves to breathe. They know that their daughter was in good hands with Ling as her life partner.

_______________

The room was dim, the only light coming from the soft glow of a bedside lamp. The air smelled faintly of antiseptic, lingering from when the nurse had re-dressed Orm’s wounds. The bandages were fresh, her breathing slow and steady, her body finally at rest.

Ling hadn’t moved in over an hour. She sat beside Orm, legs folded beneath her, watching her sleep. Her fingers lightly traced circles on Orm’s wrist, careful not to wake her but needing the connection, needing to feel her warmth.

Orm looked peaceful.

Finally.

After everything. After the gunfire, the blood, the fear that had nearly ripped Ling’s heart apart—Orm was here. With her. Alive.

Ling swallowed hard, her throat tight. She had never been so scared in her life. Not even when she lost her memories, not even when she woke up in that hospital bed with no recollection of the woman who loved her.

But seeing her in pain?  It had shattered her.

Seeing Orm hurt again. Seeing the blood seep through her clothes. Seeing the pain in her eyes, and knowing—knowing—that she had put her through that.

It was almost too much.

Ling exhaled shakily, shifting closer, brushing Orm’s hair away from her face. God, she was beautiful. Even with the exhaustion weighing down her features, Orm was the most beautiful thing Ling had ever seen.

Her fingers ghosted over Orm’s cheek, her jaw, her lips—soft, slightly parted in sleep.

Ling bit her lip. She wanted to stay. To curl up beside her and never leave.

But she also knew she wouldn’t be able to sleep. Not yet.

She pressed a lingering kiss to Orm’s forehead, inhaling deeply, letting the scent of her ground her.

“I love you” she whispers. Then, careful not to make a sound, she stood.

Ling padded softly across the room, glancing back one last time before slipping out the door.

The house was eerily quiet. It felt unnatural, considering the chaos that had surrounded them for the past few days. Ling made her way downstairs, following the faint glow of the kitchen lights. She expected to find it empty, but when she stepped inside, she stopped short.

Mae Koy was there, sitting at the dining table, nursing a cup of tea.

She glanced up as Ling entered, her sharp eyes immediately scanning her.

“You should be in bed,” she said, though there was no real reprimand in her voice.

Ling offered a small, tired smile. “Could say the same for you Mae.”

Mae Koy hummed, taking another sip. “I have too much on my mind to sleep.”

Ling hesitated, then stepped forward, slowly sinking into the chair across from her.

Mae Koy set her cup down, tilting her head. “Couldn’t sleep?”

Ling shook her head. “No. Orm’s resting, but…” She sighed, running a hand through her hair. “I just… needed air.”

Mae Koy studied her for a long moment, then gestured toward the teapot. “Tea?”

Ling blinked, surprised by the offer, but nodded. “Sure.”

Mae Koy poured her a cup, sliding it across the table. Ling wrapped her hands around the warmth, inhaling the faint scent of jasmine.

A moment of silence passed between them, the weight of unspoken emotions settling like a thick fog in the room.

Then—

“How are you feeling?” Mae Koy’s voice was gentle, but Ling knew better.

It wasn’t about the bruises, the stitches, or the physical exhaustion. It was about everything else.

The fear. The guilt. The unbearable weight pressing against her ribs like a vice.

Ling’s fingers curled tighter around the cup, her knuckles white. She swallowed hard. “I’m… okay.”

Mae Koy arched a perfectly skeptical brow. “Try again.”

Ling let out a quiet, humorless laugh, shaking her head. “I feel like shit.”

Mae Koy smirked. “There it is.”

Ling exhaled, her gaze fixed on the swirling liquid in her cup, as if the tea leaves held answers she wasn’t ready to hear. “I keep thinking about how close we were to losing her. How this—everything that happened—was because of me. She almost died because she loves me.”

Mae Koy’s expression softened, but her voice remained firm, unwavering. “She almost died because a monster wanted to own her.”

Ling clenched her jaw, her pulse pounding. “And I gave him a reason to hate me even more.”

Mae Koy leaned forward, resting her arms on the table, her presence grounding. “Do you really believe, even for a second, that Orm would have been safe if you weren’t in her life?”

Ling hesitated, her breath caught somewhere between uncertainty and guilt.

Mae Koy shook her head. “Thanom was always going to come after her. Whether you were here or not, he would have found a way. You weren’t the reason he targeted her—you were the reason she fought back.”

Ling exhaled slowly, letting the words settle into the cracks of her heart.

Mae Koy’s voice softened, yet held the same strength. “And you saved her. Again.”

Ling’s throat tightened. The ache in her chest deepened, twisting into something raw and desperate. “I just… I can’t stand seeing her hurt.”

Mae Koy reached across the table, her hand warm and steady as it covered Ling’s. A mother’s reassurance. A silent promise.

“Then love her,” she said simply. “Heal with her. Move forward with her. That’s all she wants.”

Ling looked up, her eyes glassy with unshed emotion.

And then, without hesitation, she whispered, “I want to marry her.”

Mae Koy’s lips curved into a knowing smile, her eyes gleaming with warmth. “I know.”

Ling blinked. “You… know?”

Mae Koy chuckled, leaning back slightly. “Darling, I have eyes. You look at my daughter like she hung the damn stars. You really think I haven’t noticed?”

Ling felt her face heat, her pulse stuttering. “I was… going to ask for your blessing.”

Mae Koy sighed dramatically, placing a hand over her heart. “Oh, sweetheart, I would’ve given it before you even finished asking.”

Ling let out a breathless laugh—light, free, unburdened for the first time in what felt like forever.

Mae Koy squeezed her hand, her expression tender. “I know Orm. And I know how much she loves you. You two belong together.”

Ling inhaled sharply, a newfound determination settling into her bones. “Then… when all of this is over, I’ll do it.”

Mae Koy’s eyes twinkled mischievously. “Perfect. I’ll start planning the wedding.”

Ling’s mouth fell open. “What?! I haven’t even proposed yet—”

Mae Koy waved her off with a grin. “Details.”

Ling groaned, shaking her head as Mae Koy laughed.

Then, with a sly smile, Mae Koy glanced toward the hallway. “Well, looks like we lost our bet with Orm’s father.”

Ling’s brows furrowed. “Bet?”

Mae Koy’s laughter bubbled up again. “Of course, darling. He said you’d ask for our blessing in a week. I said three days. But turns out, we were both wrong.”

Ling’s jaw dropped. “You two were betting on when I’d propose?!”

Mae Koy winked. “Oh, sweetheart, the whole house was.”

Ling shook her head in disbelief before breaking into a genuine, full-bodied laugh.

For the first time in days, she felt light. Safe. Like she could finally breathe.

And in her heart, there was only one certainty left—Orm was hers. And soon, the whole world would know it.

__________

The warehouse was cold.

Not in the way a normal building was cold, but in the way death was. It clung to the walls, soaked into the cracked concrete, settled into the very air. The kind of place that swallowed screams whole and didn’t let them out.

Thanom Ratchada knelt on the floor, wrists bound behind his back, his once-pristine suit now torn and stained with blood. His face was swollen, his bottom lip split, one eye nearly shut from the force of the last punch. His breath came in ragged, uneven gasps, his body slumping under the weight of every hit, but his eyes—his damn eyes—still burned with defiance.

Two of Papa Oct’s men stood before him, their knuckles bruised, blood smearing across their shirts. Thanom had put up a fight. But fights didn’t matter when you had already lost.

“Where are the files?”

The question came sharp and steady, spoken by a man who had no patience left.

Thanom let out a breathless, bitter laugh, his head lolling forward. His entire body hurt, but the pain had started to blur into something almost distant.

“Go to hell.” His voice was raw, hoarse from hours of this. He wouldn’t break.

One of the men crouched down beside him, gripping his jaw roughly, forcing him to look up. “I asked you a question, boss.” The last word was a mockery. A reminder that he wasn’t in control anymore.

Thanom’s lip curled into a smirk, even as blood dripped from the corner of his mouth. “You think you’re winning?” His voice was barely more than a rasp. “You’re nothing but errand boys. Papa Oct won’t always be there to save your asses.”

The man gripping him let out a short, humorless laugh. Then he punched him.

Hard. Thanom’s head snapped back, a sharp pain exploding through his skull as he crashed onto his side. The warehouse spun.

The second man rolled his shoulders, cracking his knuckles as he stepped closer. “We’ll ask again. Do you still have anything on them?”

Thanom spat blood onto the floor. He knew what they were looking for—leverage. Information. A reason to kill him right here and now.

But Thanom wasn’t an idiot. He had nothing left.

His men? Gone.

His empire? Crumbling.

His money? Frozen.

The last power he had was the power not to beg.

One of the men pulled out a phone and dialed. The call rang twice before it was answered.

“Boss,” the man said, his voice level. “He’s got nothing left.” A pause. “What do you want us to do?”

Thanom closed his eyes briefly.

This was it.

Would they put a bullet in him?

Would they make him disappear into some nameless grave?

The voice on the other end—Papa Oct’s voice—was calm. Too calm.

“We’re done here.”

Thanom’s stomach twisted.

“We’ll build the case,” Papa Oct continued. “We have enough now. Turn him in.”

Thanom’s fingers curled into fists, his nails digging into his palms.

That was worse than dying.

A bullet would’ve been clean. Quick.

But Papa Oct? He wasn’t that merciful.

One of the men crouched down beside Thanom again, grinning. “Guess you’re taking a trip.”

Thanom lifted his head slowly, eyes burning with hatred. “You think prison will stop me?” His voice was a whisper, but it cut through the silence like a knife. “I have power you don’t even understand. People will come for me.”

The man shrugged. “Maybe.”

Then his smirk widened.

“But I doubt they’ll find you.”

Thanom’s blood ran cold. The reality of it settled in.

This wasn’t just any prison. This wasn’t the kind of place where connections could buy you a comfortable cell, where money could make problems disappear.

Papa Oct was sending him somewhere worse. A place where men like him—weak men who thought they were kings—didn’t last long. The second man grabbed him by the collar, hauling him up onto his feet. “You should’ve stayed in your lane, Thanom. Don’t mess with Papa Oct’s girls”

Thanom gritted his teeth.

They were dragging him toward the door now, his legs barely working beneath him. His body screamed in protest, but he refused to show weakness.

As they stepped out into the cold night, into the waiting car that would take him to his final destination, Thanom forced a smile.

“Orm will never be yours,” he rasped.

The punch that landed next made sure he didn’t speak again for a long, long time.

And as the car doors slammed shut behind him, Thanom realized—

For the first time in his life…

He had lost.