Chapter 4
Ever since the attack, the air around them had shifted. No one dared to say it out loud, but the pressure was palpable, a constant hum beneath the surface. The families had tightened their operations, and everyone had a role to play.
Nanon was a force to be reckoned with, his sharp mind and sharper tongue commanding the room as he coordinated with Marc. They stood in the shadows of the Korapat warehouse, a place where secrets were buried as deeply as the bodies. Marc's voice was calm but deadly as he interrogated a trembling informant, his blade catching the faint glow of a single overhead bulb. Nanon watched with cold detachment, his presence alone enough to make the man stammer out confessions.
Across town, Chimon was at his family’s club, the epicenter of Bangkok’s nightlife. He moved through the crowd with effortless charm, a drink in one hand and a sly grin on his face. But his eyes were scanning the room, catching every whisper, every glance. He wasn’t just here to party—he was here to gather information, to keep his family’s business running smoothly. If anyone had something to hide, Chimon would find it.
Meanwhile, Poon was busy smoothing over alliances, his friendly demeanor a stark contrast to the chaos around him. At a high-end café, he laughed over coffee with a powerful associate, his charm disarming but calculated. Poon’s role was diplomacy, a skill he wielded like a weapon. He hated the pressure, but he couldn’t deny that he was good at it.
Nani had been sent to the Wongravee estate, where Sky was buried in his tech. The youngest Korapat spent his hours poring over blueprints and surveillance footage, his sharp mind piecing together details others might overlook. He hated working so closely with Sky, who always found a way to get under his skin, but he knew it was necessary. Sky, for his part, was in his element, hacking into systems with a smug grin, as if the danger only made him more confident.
Marc’s phone buzzed as he wiped the blood off his blade. He glanced at the screen and smirked—it was a report from Sky. The footage had revealed a new lead. “Looks like we’ve got a name,” he said, tossing the phone to Nanon.
Nanon’s jaw tightened as he read the message. “Good. Let’s pay them a visit.”
Back at the Korapat mansion, Tay sat in his study, his fingers steepled as he read through reports. He had built an empire on fear and respect, and he wasn’t about to let anyone challenge it. The Korapats had survived worse, but this time, the stakes felt different.
Everyone was working, moving like pieces on a chessboard, each with their own role to play. But the cracks were starting to show. The alliances that held them together were fragile, and the unspoken tension threatened to shatter them.
-
In a dimly lit room, the air was heavy with the scent of cigar smoke and the faint hum of distant machinery. The figure at the head of the table leaned back in his chair, the faint glow of a monitor casting sharp shadows across his face. His features were unreadable, a mask of calm that only made him more unnerving.
Before him, a collection of screens displayed live feeds and recorded footage. Each one focused on a different heir. Nanon’s cold interrogation, Chimon’s calculated charm, Poon’s effortless diplomacy, Sky’s technical brilliance, and Nani’s sharp intuition—they were all under watch, their every move scrutinized.
“They’re scattered,” he said, his voice low and measured. “Tensions are high. It won’t take much to break them.”
A man to his right, dressed in a sharp suit, nodded. “The Korapats are reinforcing their defenses. The Wongravees are expanding their surveillance. But they’re all operating independently.”
The figure at the head of the table smirked. “Good. Let them think they’re in control. The more they scramble, the easier it will be to pick them off one by one.”
He turned his attention to a screen showing Chimon at the club, his sly grin as he whispered something to a contact. “That one’s dangerous. Too unpredictable.”
“And the Korapat heir?” another voice asked from the shadows.
“Exactly where we want him,” the man replied. His eyes shifted to a screen showing Nanon, his jaw tight as he gave orders to Marc. “He’s too focused on control to see what’s coming.”
The room fell silent as the man leaned forward, his fingers steepled in thought. “Keep the pressure on. Let them dig their own graves. And when the time comes…”
He let the sentence hang in the air, his smirk deepening as he extinguished his cigar.
-
The group had gathered at a discreet location, an upscale lounge owned by one of the families. The room was dimly lit, its atmosphere a mix of elegance and secrecy. They weren’t friends—far from it. Each one had their own agenda, their own alliances, and their own suspicions. But circumstances had forced them together, and they all knew that something was brewing.
Nanon leaned back in his chair, his sharp gaze scanning the room. Chimon sat across from him, his expression unreadable as he swirled a glass of whiskey. Poon was perched on the armrest of a couch, his usual carefree demeanor dimmed by the tension in the air. Sky was on his phone, likely hacking into something even as he pretended to be uninterested, and Nani sat next to him, arms crossed, exuding annoyance.
“I don’t like this,” Poon said, breaking the silence. “The timing feels too convenient.”
“You think?” Nani muttered, shooting Sky a glare as the older boy smirked at something on his screen.
Chimon chuckled softly, a sound that carried more menace than amusement. “We’re all thinking the same thing. Whoever’s behind this is playing us like pawns.”
“Then let’s not make it easy for them,” Nanon said, his tone cold. He stood and shrugged off his jacket, draping it over Chimon’s shoulders without a word. The smaller man raised an eyebrow but didn’t comment, the faintest smirk tugging at his lips.
“Are we going to keep talking in circles, or are we actually going to do something?” Sky asked, his voice laced with impatience.
Before anyone could respond, a faint hissing sound filled the room. Poon’s eyes darted to the air vents, his heart skipping a beat as he saw a thin mist beginning to spread.
“Gas!” Nanon shouted, already moving toward the door, but it was too late.
The room spun, the world tilting as the gas took hold. Poon stumbled, his vision blurring. He heard Nani curse, Sky’s voice slurring as he tried to shout something, and then everything went black.
-
Poon’s head throbbed as he slowly regained consciousness. The first thing he noticed was the cold—his body ached from lying on a hard surface. The second was the silence, an eerie, oppressive quiet that made his skin crawl.
He blinked, his vision swimming as he tried to make sense of his surroundings. The room was stark and unfamiliar, its walls a dull gray with no windows in sight. A single bulb hung from the ceiling, casting harsh light over the empty space.
He sat up, wincing as pain shot through his head. His clothes were intact, but his watch and phone were gone. Panic bubbled in his chest, but he forced it down, taking a deep breath to steady himself.
“Where the hell am I?” he muttered, his voice hoarse.
He scanned the room, his eyes landing on a door at the far end. It was heavy, metallic, and locked—he could tell just by looking at it. He pushed himself to his feet, his legs shaky but functional, and approached the door.
“Hello?” he called out, pounding on the metal. The sound echoed in the emptiness, but there was no response.
His mind raced. The last thing he remembered was the gas, the way it had filled the room so quickly. The others—were they here too? Were they even alive?
Poon clenched his fists, anger and fear warring within him. Whoever had done this had made a mistake. He wasn’t just some spoiled rich kid; and he wasn’t going down without a fight.
He turned back to the room, his eyes narrowing as he searched for anything—anything—that could give him a clue about where he was or how to get out.