ME AND THEE

"I always get what I want."

A bold declaration from Mr. Thee, a half-Russian businessman, who is
handsome, wealthy, and straight out of a dream romance novel.
Hes enough to make Peach, a simple and laid-back photographer,
scream internally,
"Pull yourself together Mr. Thee!"

Being an unwilling consultant for a ma ia heir is not that easy

But somewhere along the line, amidst all the advice and back-and-forth
discussions,
why does it feel like he's become the object of Mr. Thees interest
instead?

#มีสติหน่ อยคุณธีร ์
Please give a review and encourage us.

Story : LaWila
Translated : Yumi_Chan
Illust : ide_mick

ATTENTION CALL #1
The lash lickered in rhythm with the click of the shutter, as the model
in front of the background effortlessly changed poses. He was a small
man with delicate, almost feminine features—a famous unisex model
who exuded charm as he posed with an expensive perfume, perfectly
embodying his image as a fragrance for all genders.
“Give me a little more of a con ident look… That’s it, perfect,” a rich,
smooth voice instructed, without taking his eyes off the camera. A few
clicks later, the slender igure inally lowered the camera and
announced a short break to prepare for the next scene.
"Hey, Peach, how do I look? Am I breaking it or what?" the model
practically jumped, almost running, half-hopping with excitement; his
exaggerated enthusiasm made Peach laugh as she casually turned the
camera screen so he could see.
"You don't trust my skills or what, Ran?" Peach teased as she unclipped
the camera from her neck. She moved to a nearby chair, plopped down,
and let her younger colleague look through the photos. Meanwhile, he
went back to reviewing the images on his own device.
Aran was grinning from ear to ear until his cheeks were puffed out,
sparkling eyes glued to the images on the screen, "Who wouldn't trust
you, Peach? I already knew the pictures would be amazing—that's why
I couldn't wait to see them!"
And Aran wasn't exaggerating. Peach, or Peachayarat Janekit, was one
of the country's top photographers. Her skills were extraordinary.
Even models who lacked outstanding features or fame could attract
attention after being captured through her lens. Many actors and
celebrities owed their success to a handful of Peach's stunning
photographs.
In addition to his exceptional talent, Peach also had an impeccable
reputation in the industry. Known for his professionalism, impeccable
manners, and calm demeanor, he had never been involved in a scandal
or bad press, not even once.
However, despite being so accomplished in his career, his love life was
a complete mess, almost tragic in a laughable way. After being dumped
by his third girlfriend for the same reason as the previous two, Peach
had resigned himself to the idea that love might not be in the cards for
him.
"Peach, Peach! Are you coming to the closing party tonight?" Aran
asked, inally satis ied with the photos and turning to him. Her wide,
innocent eyes had a slight pleading look that made Peach smile in
amusement.
The stunning model had been close to Peach since his early days in the
industry. Some would even say that Peach was the one who helped him
rise to fame. Still, their bond had always remained super icial, a
professional relationship at best. To Peach, Aran was nothing more
than a doting younger brother.
The only problem? Aran's situation was irritatingly possessive and
overly dramatic – enough to make anyone want to roll their eyes.
"Have you told Tawan yet? If you two start ighting at the party, I'll kick
you both out," Peach warned, crossing her arms. The small model
immediately looked taken aback, shifting uncomfortably before
sheepishly admitting that he hadn't mentioned it yet. Without another
word, he ran off to his dressing room, probably to call and report to his
partner and prepare for the next photo shoot.
Peach let out a long sigh before standing up to inspect the next set.
Pulling out her phone, she checked her messages and glanced at her
schedule.
After a moment, he opened the blue bird app to catch up on the news
while he waited.
His scrolling came to a halt when one headline in particular caught his
eye. It was the latest news about a young half-Thai, half-Russian
entrepreneur who was making waves as a rising star in the perfume
and jewellery industry. Not only was he famous for his sharp business
acumen, but his striking looks and on-again, off-again romances with
multiple actresses had catapulted Theerakit Kian Arseny to the
pinnacle of fame.
Peach glanced at the perfume bottle that was neatly placed on the set,
then turned her focus back to her phone, shaking her head slightly
with a light smile.
His boss really was a clever guy.
This thought brie ly crossed his mind before he returned to his work.
Although he was technically her "boss," the term applied only in the
sense that the man was the CEO of the company Peach was making
commercials for. The likelihood of their paths actually crossing was
virtually zero.
What he really needed was to hope that his young model colleague
wouldn't drag him into some new drama that night. With long strides,
Peach made her way to her small car, deciding to stop by her condo
irst before joining the others at a trendy restaurant-pub in the heart
of the city.
Once at the condo, he parked in the underground parking lot, locked
his car, and gathered his things before heading to the building's
entrance. After tapping his key card on the security panel, he entered
the elevator and pressed his loor.
The mirror re lected a young man with marked features and a slender
igure, who was just over 175 centimeters tall, perhaps closer to 180.
His build was thin, but it, with the toned look of someone who takes
care of himself.
He wasn't dazzlingly handsome, nor extraordinarily beautiful, but he
had the kind of face you'd never tire of looking at.
The elevator dinged softly as it reached her loor. Peach made her way
to her unit, tapped her card on the smart lock, and pushed open the
door as she heard the click.
Their condo was a standard studio, not very big, but just right for one
person. The layout divided the space into a living room and a
bedroom, with a small kitchen on one side and a bathroom on the
other. At the end was a small balcony, just big enough for a washing
machine, a clothesline, and some small plants that added a touch of
green to the space.
Peach's room was simple and understated, just like him. Peach
organized his things; he prided himself on being fairly tidy, though his
version of organized often made no sense to anyone but him.
After putting everything away, watering her plants, and grabbing
something from the fridge to keep her stomach from growling later,
she headed to her closet to pick out an out it for the evening.
Sliding open the closet door, she was met with her usual collection of
plain and solid colored t-shirts in dark shades and a row of well- itting
jeans. She decided to stick with the same pair of jeans she was
wearing.

and changed his casual t-shirt into a short-sleeved button-down shirt.

He left the top two or maybe three buttons undone, just enough to
show a glimpse of his pale chest. After a quick swipe of cologne, he was
ready to go.
Truth be told, Peach wasn't all that surprised when his last girlfriend
dumped him two months ago. Her life was simple, probably too
simple, and so was her personality. She wasn't one for grand gestures
or over-the-top displays. What she offered was stability, someone who
appreciated the little things and took care of the day-to-day life
together.
Most people described him as the perfect con idant, someone who
gave great advice, made them feel comfortable and radiated warmth.
Reliable, dependable… but never someone to fall in love with.
The thought made him laugh to himself, remembering the exact words
his ex had used to end things. The phrase had left him ighting the urge
to respond with a sarcastic comment, "Oh,
So you want someone unreliable? Should I depend on you like a
parasite instead of being the chosen one?!
Of course, he didn't say any of that at the time. When it came down to
it, all he managed was a sad smile as he watched her walk away, hand
in hand with her new boyfriend.
Ah, the tragic story of Peachayarat's love life.
He thought, dismissing the lingering frustration and walking back
down to his car.
Two months after the breakup, Peach was more or less back to normal.
Sure, he wasn't exactly looking forward to meeting up with his ex, but
at least he could think about it without linching.

Slipping back into the city's congested traf ic, she was reminded why
Friday nights were pure chaos. It was as if the entire city had
collectively decided to let loose after a grueling week.
The roads were packed, with barely an inch of space between cars.
After nearly an agonizing hour of stopping and starting, Peach inally
arrived at the restaurant and headed inside to join his friends at their
table, ready to let the night unfold.
The place was a restaurant-pub with live music, not the kind of
crowded, chaotic place you might call a full-blown club. It was busy
enough to feel lively, which made inding your friends' table quite cozy.
Tonight’s gathering was a wrap-up party for the fall collection photo
shoot, which featured a full complement of matching perfumes and
accessories – nearly ten looks in all. The shoot had taken nearly a full
week, combining video commercials and still photography. Sure, there
was still a mountain of editing and post-production work ahead, but
celebrating what they had accomplished so far was a huge morale
boost.
Peach was led to a seat near the head of the table. He offered a polite,
subdued smile and sat quietly. Across from him was Aran, the
campaign's star model, who waved enthusiastically like a puppy
excited to see its owner.
Unfortunately, Aran didn't seem to notice the glare Peach was
receiving from Tawan, the model's boyfriend, sitting right next to her.
"If you look at me any more intensely, Tawan, I'm going to end up
pregnant."
Peach joked with a smile as she reached for the cocktail ingredients to
prepare her own drink. There was no way she was going to trust him

that to his team; they were always plotting to put something in his
drinks for fun.
Tawan responded with an exaggerated glare, his sharp eyes narrowed
in mock warning.
One arm rested on the back of Aran’s chair in a way that made it clear
who the model was. Peach chuckled to himself, keeping his thoughts to
himself this time.
It wasn’t surprising, though – Aran was stunning. There was a softness
to his beauty, with large doe eyes that sparkled with warmth and
charm. Yet the sharp de inition of his jaw gave him an undeniable
masculinity. It was an irresistible mix, drawing the attention of
everyone in the room, both women and men.
Peach looked at Tawan, a masculine man, in the most traditional sense.
His sharp, angular features, toned muscles, and imposing 183cm height
practically screamed alpha male. There was a slight intensity to his
demeanor – a iery temper that Peach had to reprimand more than
once to keep under control.
He really is a protagonist, there's no doubt about that.
Peach, who had recently gotten hooked on a new series, shook her
head slightly. If she had to evaluate it, those two were destined to be in
the spotlight—leading roles from start to inish.
Meanwhile, he was more like the supporting cast—the best friend who
gives sage advice, lights the hero's path, or sometimes stirs things up
just for fun.
He didn't hate playing that kind of role, but from time to time, he felt a
little lonely.

After illing up on food and satisfying his hunger, he stayed for a while
with a drink. But he soon decided to call it a day. He had driven himself
here, and he still had work to do later.
Getting drunk was not an option.
Getting up, Peach headed to the bathroom, planning to splash her face
with water and freshen up before leaving. But the moment she opened
the door, she was met with an unexpected sight: the petite model,
Aran, cornered by three men dressed in black.
What the hell is this mess now?
Peach cursed inwardly but quickly stepped inside, her long legs closing
the distance in seconds. In the back of her mind, she cursed Aran's
glowering boyfriend, so quick to glare at her, but seemingly missing in
a situation like this. Outwardly, however, Peach kept her composure,
forcing a slight smile as she tried to defuse the tension in the room.
“Hey, Ran, why have you been gone so long?” he called nonchalantly,
though he had no idea when Aran had left the table. Gently, he reached
out for the younger man’s arm and maneuvered it behind himself as
naturally as he could. “Are you drunk? Are you okay? You didn’t bother
these gentlemen, did you?”
Peach continued talking, pretending not to notice Aran about to open
his mouth. Before the younger man could say a word, Peach tightened
her grip on his arm – a silent warning. She knew all too well how sharp
Aran’s tongue could be. If she let him speak, this situation would surely
spiral out of control.
Turning to the men surrounding them, Peach offered a polite smile,
hoping to ease the tension. It was then that she inally noticed

the igure leaning casually against the sink at the back of the room.
The man appeared to be of mixed race, with straight black hair
combed back, revealing a broad forehead. Under the neon lights, his
hair seemed to glow with lashes of brown. His eyes, sharp and
commanding, were the color of storm clouds, and his chiseled jaw
added to his intimidating presence. He wore a long-sleeved shirt with
the top three buttons undone, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows,
showing irm muscles and a slight hint of tattoos. Flanked by two burly
men in black suits, he exuded an air of authority that made the small
bathroom feel even more cramped.
The scene screamed danger – so much so that Peach felt an
overwhelming urge to run away right then and there.
"It seems my friend here caused you some trouble. I'm very sorry
about that.
Please don't take it to heart," Peach said, tightening her grip on the
other man's arm and bowing her head politely.
Peach wasn't the type to escalate situations, especially when the other
side radiated that kind of threat. If a quick apology could calm things
down or give her a chance to escape, she would gladly take it.
"Well, if you'll excuse us," he added with a forced smile, turning on his
heel and storming out of the bathroom without waiting for
permission. He dragged the smaller model with him, not letting go
until they were safely out of harm's way.
So that was wanting to cool off before driving home. That little scare
had already sobered him up more effectively than a cold splash.
Once they reached a quiet spot, Peach inally turned to face the
younger man, questions piling up.

"What the hell happened back there, Ran? Who were those guys?"
“I have no idea! I didn’t do anything!” Aran huffed indignantly, his
cheeks lushed—from anger and the alcohol coursing through his
veins. “That mobster tried to touch me! So, I talked back. Then he
called his thugs to scare me. What a jerk!”
Peach resisted the urge to bury her face in her hands. Sure, she knew
this guy was handsome enough – to attract the kinds of scoundrels
who thought of her with their egos and hormones. But Aran’s idea of
con lict resolution clearly needed work.
Barely bigger than a kidney bean, alone in a room full of dangerous-
looking men, and yet he was still talking non-stop? It was a miracle he
hadn't ended up dead or worse. Did this kid not have a shred of
survival instinct?
He was about to open his mouth and say something to defuse the
situation when he was suddenly yanked. A strong hand grabbed his
shoulder hard enough to hurt before pushing him aside without a
shred of compassion. Thankfully, he managed to keep his balance, but
not before the railing he grabbed for support scraped his palm, leaving
a burning cut. His arm throbbed where it had collided with the edge.
Peach turned around, her heart sinking with fear at the thought that
the dangerous man from earlier had followed them. But to her
surprise, the person glaring at her, ready to tear her apart, was none
other than the stern celebrity. Tawan was there, holding the petite
model to his chest. His harsh, biting tone did not match the protective
gesture.
"What the hell is going on here?" Tawan growled, his voice like a whip.
His grip on Aran tightened as if trying to stop him from escaping. "I'll
tell you that."

You've been going for years—turns out you were hanging around with
this damn photographer, huh?"
"Tawan, listen to me!" Aran twisted in the iron grip, trying in vain to
free himself. "It's not what you think! Peach helped me, that's all!"
Aran’s protest only seemed to fan the lames. Tawan’s frustration grew
as he responded, then without another word, he took the smaller man
with him, one arm wrapped around him as if he were a possession.
Before disappearing, Tawan shot Peach a look so sharp it felt like a
dagger in the belly—a clear warning to stay away.
Peach stood frozen, trying to process the whirlwind of chaos that had
just erupted. His thoughts were lagging behind the storm of emotions
that had just happened?! Part of him wanted to scream the raging
inferno that had ripped through the room. But all he did was let his
yellowed, worn pages pass through his hands. Part of him wanted to
express what he felt, but he didn't.
Along the way, she began to wonder if maybe she should take on fewer
jobs related to Aran. She didn't want to be the reason for any more
misunderstandings or tensions between them. And besides, she
wanted to make it clear to Tawan that she had no interest in getting
involved in his drama.
The problem was that Aran had become an ambassador for the Arseny
brand.
With a full contract binding him to the entire fall collection, avoiding
the pair was going to be nearly impossible.
Peach sighed again, a resigned feeling of "whatever"
settling in his chest. He hadn't done anything wrong, but trouble kept
inding him. At this point, all he could do was

shrug his shoulders and focus on the job. The rest? It wasn't his
problem anymore.
He walked to the car and stopped next to it. Just as he was about to
turn back, a sharp pain in his arm reminded him of the cut. Changing
his mind, he rummaged through the trunk for a bottle of water,
thinking it would be a good idea to rinse the wound. He thought he
might need to stop somewhere to get a tetanus shot as well.
It was too dark to see what had cut it, and if it had been rusty metal,
that could be a real problem.
Peach grabbed the water bottle and fumbled to open the lid without
using her injured hand. Her clumsy fumbling made her think of the
man she had encountered earlier in the bathroom – the one who had a
dangerous vibe.
She had to admit that the guy was ridiculously handsome, no doubt
about it.
But the air of danger surrounding him was hard to ignore. Still, what
impressed Peach the most wasn't the man's looks, but his smoky gray
eyes.
They were amazing, almost hypnotic, the kind of eyes that made you
stop dead in your tracks. She even found herself wishing she had a
camera to capture them.
There was also something eerily familiar about them, as if he had seen
them somewhere before. Their beauty, almost like moving smoke, was
rare enough to ignite the photographer's spark in him.
"Do you need help with that?"
The deep voice startled Peach. He looked up and was slightly startled
as he met those same smoky grey eyes he had just been thinking
about.
Great. It looked like that pesky freshman was dragging a whole new
load of trouble right onto him.

ATTENTION CALL #2
The man was only an arm’s length away. Now that he was standing at
full height, it was even more apparent how tall he was, probably
hovering around 190 centimeters. Broad shoulders and a solid frame
gave him the appearance of some sort of mixed-race athlete. In the
clearer light, his smoky grey eyes were even more striking, almost
mesmerizing. His strong jaw, lightly shaded with three-day stubble,
added to his intimidating aura.
Sure, he was handsome – there was no denying it – but the dangerous
vibe he radiated completely overshadowed any attraction. It wasn’t so
much swoon-worthy as run-for-your-life-away-from-him.
"You're not going to get that open with your hand like that," the man
said in a calm, matter-of-fact tone, extending an expectant hand.
Peach blinked, confused. Her guard was still up, but after a moment of
hesitation, she handed him the water bottle.
More than anything, he felt a strange sense of familiarity with the man
in front of him, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't place him.
"Thanks," Peach muttered as the guy easily twisted off the cap and
handed the opened bottle back to her. Peach stepped back to make
sure the water didn't splash anyone, then tilted it to pour it over her
wound, letting it wash away the blood.
"That's what you get for sticking your nose where it doesn't belong,"
the man commented, his deep voice containing a slight tone of
reproach.
Peach paused for a second, the water slowing to a trickle. Then she
smiled weakly and resumed cleaning his wound, her voice light and
easy as she replied.

"Yeah, you're right. It's none of my business. But what can I say? I
couldn't just leave that kid like that. If there's anything I can do to help,
I probably will." She shrugged and grabbed some tissues to gently dry
his arm. The wound wasn't that bad, just a scratch, nothing deep – but
he'd still need a tetanus shot, no doubt about it.
"Do you ever think that helping others might get you into trouble?"
The tall, broad-shouldered man crossed his arms, his eyes narrowing
in clear disapproval.
"I'm always in trouble, so yeah, I'm used to it." Peach chuckled softly,
pausing brie ly before adding in a resigned tone, "But seriously, could
you please not try to woo the guy?"
"I'd rather not deal with him ighting about his... situation or whatever.
Every time they have drama, I'm the one who ends up caught in the
middle."
The other man's expression instantly hardened. His already
intimidating face darkened even further, and his tone, laced with
barely contained anger, came out sharp.
"There's nothing I want that I can't have."
The weight of his words hung in the air for a tense moment before
Peach suddenly burst into uncontrollable laughter. He tried to sti le it,
but it only made him choke, coughing and laughing at the same time.
Eventually, he managed to compose himself, though the other man’s
gaze grew darker with each second.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Peach said, raising a hand in mock surrender, her
voice still shaky with amusement. "I didn't mean to laugh; it just took
me by surprise. Who says things like that in real life?"
"It's so... over the top. Bossy and completely tyrannical."

The man's frown deepened, and the growing irritation on his face
quickly raised both hands in an apologetic gesture, his wide smile
fading into something more sheepish. Damn my big mouth, he cursed
inwardly.
“If you really like Ran, why don’t you just approach him properly?”
Peach suggested, trying to change the mood and de lect any
impending anger. “I mean, those two aren’t of icially a couple yet,
right? Aran is still single. If you just throw yourself at him like a normal
person, it might work.” The frown didn’t budge. If anything, the guy
looked even more annoyed, his jaw set as he stared at Peach with
disdain.
“Why should I waste my time on something like that?” the man replied,
his arms crossed tighter, his demeanor practically screaming mob
boss energy. His piercing gaze carried a tinge of disdain, as if the idea
of following the rules was beneath him.
Looking back on it now, this guy wouldn't be out of place in one of
those alpha male romance novels – the hit-and-run ma ia kind. Yeah,
this guy had all the hallmarks of that trope.
Peach nodded to himself a few times. Yes, he had read this type of
novel before. The hero in these stories was always the same –
aggressive, loud, domineering to the point of being controlling, and
maybe a little unbalanced.
Honestly? This guy was hitting all the right notes.
"Control your emotions, man. Who in their right mind enjoys being
bossed around or pressured? Unless, of course, they're into
masochism." Peach shook her head, leaning casually against the side of
her small car. The way this conversation was going, it was going to take
a lot longer than she had planned.

I still had work to inish tonight, but clearly, that wasn't going to
happen anymore.
"It's just a one-night stand. Why make a big deal out of it?"
"Even if it's just a one-night stand, sex should be about mutual
satisfaction. It's about enjoying the moment together, not about one
person taking what they want while the other is simply dragged along
to tag along or, worse, used as some sort of bargaining chip.
"Where's the fun in that?" Peach's tone was serious now, her
expression as sincere as she could manage.
For him, sex was something that should happen between two willing,
consenting parties. The idea of forcing someone, pressuring them, or
even throwing money at them to get your way—"it all gave him the
creeps."
"It's just sex," the wannabe mobster muttered, though it sounded a
little less ardent this time. Still mimed, sure, but quieter.
"Have you ever actually tried it?" Peach replied, raising an eyebrow.
"Sex where you're both into it, both having fun, not just rushing to get
it over with. I'd bet it feels a lot better."
He sounded like an expert, but the truth is that his experience was
almost laughably minimal.
He'd been in three relationships, none of which had come to fruition.
Sure, he'd had a couple of one-night stands back in the day, but that felt
like an eternity ago. These days, he was too busy to even think about
having an affair.
Mr. Ma ia's face turned blank as he sank into deep thought, his dark
brows furrowed as if trying to igure out a problem.

impossibly complex puzzle. Peach could only stand there, waiting.

Unable to help herself, she let out a soft yawn.
He had been running on fumes for days, staying up late and working
non-stop. Today had started with a photo shoot in the morning and
had continued until...well, now.
Peach wanted to tell Mr. Ma ia to go home and think about things there.
He'd like to go home too, honestly – he was about to pass out from
sheer exhaustion.
"Give me your phone."
Peach, who was on the verge of falling asleep where he stood, snapped
back to attention. He blinked at the outstretched hand, puzzled at how
their conversation had somehow turned to his phone.
When the guy gave the order again, his deep, authoritative tone
brooked no argument. Peach sighed and pulled out her phone,
unlocking it without protest.
What could he say? The guy was at least twice his size, had two
bodyguards at his side, and oh yeah, they both carried guns. Whatever
this mob guy was up to, he de initely wasn't trying to steal an old, beat-
up phone like his.
Peach stood there, watching as the man iddled with his phone. Those
smoky grey eyes held a strange familiarity, a feeling that tugged at the
edges of Peach’s mind and refused to fade.
It only grew stronger as the seconds ticked by. When her phone was
handed back to her, Peach absentmindedly took it, her exhaustion
mixing with that nagging feeling of recognition. Before she could stop
herself, the words slipped out.
"You look a lot like someone. Have we met before?"
Mr. Ma ia froze, a lash of something—disappointment, perhaps—
glimmering in those gray eyes before disappearing behind a wry smile.
“That’s the dumbest pickup line I’ve ever heard. What, have you been
watching too many soap operas?”
Peach blinked a few times and then burst into laughter, the kind of
laughter that left him doubled over and wiping his eyes. Her genuine
amusement instantly wiped the other man's smile away, replacing it
with a frown of confusion.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Peach said quickly, trying to calm down before
things got tense.
The last thing he needed was for Mr. Ma ia to get offended and start
waving his gun around.
"I didn't mean to laugh at you, it's just that, man, that was so over the
top. I swear I wasn't trying to lirt with you or anything. I promise."
He inally managed to control his laughter, although the smile
remained stubbornly on his face.
"I asked because you really do look familiar. I feel like I've seen you
somewhere before, maybe in a magazine? Your eyes, that smoky grey
color...
"They're really shocking. I guess they just stuck in my head."
Mr. Ma ia relaxed his brow, the sharp edge in his eyes softening as if he
were deep in thought. Peach stood there, waiting.
She wanted to beg for permission to go home and sleep, but she was
too afraid that she might end up sleeping permanently.
It wasn't an option. He still had a lot of work waiting for him.

"I'll think about it," the mob guy said at last, then turned and walked
away with his men following him. Peach didn't release the breath he'd
been holding until they were completely out of sight. Relief hit him so
hard he felt like a mountain had lifted off his chest.
All this time they had been talking, he had been terri ied of ending up
dead. But between his usual personality, a hint of alcohol still buzzing
in his system, and extreme exhaustion, he had somehow managed to
act braver than he really was.
At least he hadn't done anything too reckless. That was what he told
himself as he got into his car and drove back to his condo.
At this moment, all she could think about was her soft bed and the
sweet, icy blast of the air conditioning.
Theerakit Kian Arseny was an entrepreneur in his early thirties who
was currently making waves in the public eye. Not just because of
Arseny, his hugely popular perfume and jewellery brand, but also
thanks to his stunning good looks and ever-changing list of celebrity
girlfriends.
But few people knew the truth about the Arseny family. The perfume
and jewelry business was not their irst venture. The Arseny name had
been a big deal on the black market for years as one of Russia’s largest
arms suppliers. They didn’t just deal in weapons – they also invested
heavily in research and development, pushing new technologies.
It started as an arms traf icking business that expanded into
technological dominance, and now, with the eldest son of the Arseny
family at the helm, they had a legitimate brand in luxury goods. On the
surface, it was just a facade, but the huge pro its exceeded
expectations, turning the business into one of the crown jewels of the
Arseny empire.

With everything going for him—power, wealth, in luence—it was no

wonder the man often called "the mob boss" rarely found himself with
something he wanted but couldn't have.
He slowly tapped his ingers rhythmically on the desk, leaving the
document on the screen unsigned. For the irst time, he couldn't
concentrate on work. His mind was tangled with thoughts he couldn't
shake off, no matter how hard he tried.
That hot little model had caught his attention—those big, expressive
eyes, lushed cheeks, and that pert mouth. There was a de iance in her
demeanor that was almost provocative, wrapped up in a petite body
that looked so easy to dominate. He had to admit, he was intrigued. He
couldn’t help but wonder what it would feel like to have that stubborn
little thing trapped beneath him, writhing and yielding to his control.
When you wanted something, you had to get it. And the longer
someone resisted, the more satisfying it was to achieve it.
But it was really strange. The image of that model remained in his
mind, refusing to fade away. However, strangely enough, another
thought had begun to creep in – a warm and soothing voice, calm and
steady like a gentle stream. Just a few words, accompanied by a bright
and genuine laugh, had managed to extinguish his boiling temper in an
instant.
The one who had laughed at him, had told him bluntly to calm down,
and stood his ground without angering him. If anything, the guy's
unyielding, yet disarming attitude had made him cave. No one else had
ever spoken to him like that and he had come away unscathed. Yet here
was this photographer, still very much alive and in one piece.

At irst glance, he wasn't even that remarkable. He wasn't blindingly

beautiful, nor someone you couldn't look away from. And yet, being
around him had been... oddly reassuring.
"Sir, here are the background reports you requested." His assistant
walked over, placing two iles on the desk. Each had a name written
clearly on the cover.
Thee hesitated. Honestly, he had been questioning himself since last
night, when he had ordered the background checks. He had intended to
look into the model’s history. But somehow, he had also told them to
look into the photographer.
Even now, a part of him wondered what the hell he wanted with that
photographer's ile. However, when his hand moved, he bypassed the
model report he was so sure he wanted and picked up the
photographer's ile instead. The other ile sat untouched on the desk.
Thee pursed her lips slightly as she lipped through the pages. The
photographer's record was impeccably clean to the point of being
almost frustrating. No scandals, no hidden secrets. Just a simple life.
As the eldest son in the family, his parents' names were not even listed
in the ile.
The young mob boss's eyes brie ly paused on the section listing
favorite foods. Then, as if making a decision, he picked up his phone,
searched for the number he had saved the night before, and called
without hesitation.
The line barely rang before the other party answered. The sleepy voice
that answered made him glance at the clock. Almost 10am, wasn’t it?

"I'll be downstairs in an hour. I'll pick you up," he said, short and direct,
out of sheer habit.
The person on the other end, however, was clearly not used to such
abrupt orders.
[ Pick me up? Go where? Wait, who is this? ]
"For breakfast," he clari ied, although he only said as much as he felt
like explaining.
He was a little annoyed that the other person didn't remember who he
was, but he let it go. Considering the sleepy tone of the guy's voice, it
was probably too early for his brain to process anything properly.
Oddly enough, rather than feeling irritated, he found the confusion and
drowsiness in the voice somewhat amusing.
The person on the other end still sounded puzzled, but Thee didn’t give
him a chance to ask any more questions. He hung up and turned his
attention back to the documents on his desk. The paperwork, which he
had found irritating before, now felt a little less bothersome. In fact, he
could concentrate on it.
Perhaps the photographer's suggestion to take things slowly and
“Starting with lirting” wasn’t such a bad idea after all. He’d start with a
little reconnaissance – gathering some information about the pretty-
faced model. They seemed close enough that he’d probably ind out
something useful.
Thee was noticeably in better spirits, although he himself did not
know it.
Meanwhile, his secretary and the bodyguards stationed nearby
exchanged silent, nervous glances. Questions illed their minds, but no
one dared to voice a single one.

No one was stupid enough to risk provoking their boss and unleashing
one of his infamous outbursts. If that happened, there would be no one
left standing to calm the storm.
 ATTENTION CALL #3
Peach was a creature of the night.
Sure, he could drag himself out of bed to take photos in the morning or
go to a shoot if he had to, but when it came to tasks that required
focus, precision, and a creative touch—like editing photos, arranging
compositions, or editing videos—he preferred to work at night.
So last night after he got back from the event, even though he was dead
tired, he still ended up sitting down to edit the irst draft of the photos
he needed to send. By the time he inally got to bed, it was already well
past 5 a.m. He igured his next job wasn’t until the afternoon, so staying
up until dawn wasn’t going to be a problem.
He hadn't counted on being called at ten in the morning.
Peach was so stunned that part of him wanted to just ignore the call
altogether. But as soon as he managed to compose himself enough to
check the name lashing on his phone, he was wide awake.
Because those smoky grey eyes had been haunting him all night.
The thought of them had driven him out of bed last night, forcing him
to rummage through every piece of work he'd ever found. It had taken
him barely ten minutes to ind what he was looking for.
Theerakit Kian Arseny – a half-Thai, half-Russian businessman, and
her temporary boss for the Arseny brand’s fall fragrance collection,
which Peach was managing at the time.

So when he saw the name Theerakit pop up on his screen at ten in the
morning, it all clicked. He was sure he didn’t know anyone else by that
name. Combined with the memory of his phone having been brie ly
con iscated the night before, it wasn’t hard to igure out who was
calling.
The real question was why? Why was she calling him? Why not call
Aran instead?
Of course, those questions remained irmly in his head.
All he could do was drag himself out of bed, wash his face, take a quick
shower, and get dressed.
However, she hesitated for a long time when choosing her out it.
His life used to be quiet and uneventful, so much so that it could even
seem a little boring. He didn't like the nightlife and preferred to stay at
home.
On rare occasions, I would go backpacking solo, camera in hand,
choosing the silence of a solitary journey rather than traveling with a
large group.
This simplicity extended to his wardrobe. Most of his clothes were
simple and functional: basic T-shirts, shorts, and a few solid-colored
shirts for work. He had a tailored suit, just in case he had to attend a
formal event. But now, faced with the need to choose an out it for
something more signi icant, he was beginning to see the downside to
keeping his wardrobe so minimalist.
It wasn't like dressing up for a date—far from it. But the person she
was about to meet wasn't just anyone. He was a half-Russian mob
boss.
Your usual relaxed attire might seem disrespectful, but showing up in a
full suit in broad daylight would look ridiculous.

In the end, it took her nearly an hour to settle on a pair of tight black
pants and an oversized gray button-down shirt. By then, the thought of
brewing a cup of strong black coffee before heading out had
completely vanished. Adjusting the strap of her small crossbody bag,
she hurried down the stairs, unwilling to risk keeping the other man
waiting.
The moment Peach stepped out of her condo, a sleek black luxury car
pulled up to the curb beside her. The back window rolled down just
enough for her to catch a glimpse of those smoky grey eyes.
He immediately lowered his head with a polite nod and quickened his
pace toward the car.
Reaching for the door handle, he hesitated for a brief moment. He
wasn’t a guest. He de initely wasn’t a date, not even close. Perhaps the
closest he could get was being a subordinate. And besides, sitting
further away from the boss increased his chances of escape, should
things get complicated.
After a moment's deliberation, he opened the front passenger door
and slid inside.
But before she could even close it, the man in the back seat, who
exuded an air of quiet authority, spoke in a low, commanding voice.
"Sit in the back."
Peach’s hand froze on the door handle. For a moment, he toyed with
the idea of being stubborn and refusing, but the mental image of being
killed before he had a chance to ind coffee stopped him cold. After
weighing all the options, he climbed back out, walked around the car,
and slid into the backseat – feeling completely out of options.

Peach sat stiff as a board. His discomfort was re lected in his frown.
His mind was racing, trying to igure out why he had been summoned.
Had he done something to piss this guy off?
He replayed the events of the previous night in his head, but couldn't
think of anything inappropriate.
Unless...maybe Mr. Big Mob Boss was holding a grudge over something
he'd said – which he'd laughed at. But if this was about anger and
retaliation, wouldn't it make more sense to deal with him under the
cover of night rather than call him out in broad daylight?
"Why so tense? You're not half as bold as you were last night," Thee
commented, her sharp gaze ixed on him. Peach snapped out of her
spiraling thoughts, giving a hollow smile and trying to smooth things
over. Not that he thought that would help much.
"I may have had a little too much to drink last night. I'm sorry if I did or
said anything inappropriate."
"I didn't say it was inappropriate," Thee replied calmly, her eyes still
piercing him, her voice carrying an edge of mimicry. "Why don't you
speak like you did last night?"
"Well, I didn't know who you were last night," Peach blurted out,
running a hand through his hair in frustration. Socializing wasn't
exactly his strong suit, and this whole dance of minding his words and
tiptoeing was starting to get on his nerves.
Thee paused, the sharpness in his gaze softening slightly, almost as if
he were amused. The more Peach squirmed, the more amused he
seemed to become.
"Are you scared now that you know?"

"I was scared last night too," Peach said in a neutral tone, turning to
give him a lat look. "Who wouldn't be scared of someone lanked by
bodyguards with guns strapped to their waists?"
Thee's lips twitched, her tone irm but undeniably smug. "Then it's no
different."
Peach rolled her eyes so hard she almost gave herself whiplash. She
couldn't believe she was having this conversation. Dealing with
someone whose sense of normal was light years away from the
average person's was mentally exhausting.
Big shots in general were one thing, but a large-scale arms-dealing
mob boss? Seriously, who wouldn't be more terri ied?
Peach muttered something under his breath – complaining in a tone so
low it couldn’t be understood – but he didn’t dare say it out loud. In the
end, he let out a long sigh, deciding it was probably smarter to focus on
the strange situation in front of him. Subtlety wasn’t exactly his forte,
so he got straight to the point.
"So, uh... why exactly did you call me here, Mr. Arseny?"
He asked, frowning suspiciously. "It's not because you're angry about
last night, is it?"
Thee watched him with barely contained amusement, like a cat playing
with a restless mouse. Though her sour, pensive face remained
impassive, her eyes sparkled with mischief.
There was an air of unusual joy radiating from him, enough that the
bodyguard who also acted as driver in the front seat couldn't help but
cast furtive glances in the rearview mirror.

It was downright surprising. Not even Thee's favorite adventures

managed to elicit this kind of reaction from her.
"How's your arm?"
Peach blinked in surprise. He looked down at his arm before
remembering.
Sure – the night before, he’d scraped it badly enough that they’d been
diverted to a hospital for a tetanus shot. He never thought Thee would
remember, though.
"It's okay, just a small scratch," he quickly replied. "I already got the
shot, so I'm ine," he hesitated for a moment, pressing his lips together
as his confusion grew. "Wait... you called me just to ask about that?"
"I called you to ask about that model boy," the young mobster said
nonchalantly, leaning back as if this was the most natural thing in the
world. "You told me to start lirting, right? Show me how."
“Yo,” Peach pointed a inger at her chest, eyes wide as if she’d just been
told the world was lat. Any remaining fear instantly disappeared,
swept away by the sheer absurdity of what she’d just heard. “Uh. Just
so you know, Mr. Arseny. I got dumped two months ago because I was,
quote, “too boring to be a boyfriend.”
Apparently, I’m better at being a therapist than I am at being
someone’s signi icant other.
And you think I’m quali ied to teach you how to lirt? Are you sure
about that? Really?”
Thee's lips curved into a light smile. Not only did he seem completely
unfazed by Peach's wide-eyed gaze, he actually looked more amused
than ever. When he spoke, his tone was brimming with con idence.
"Well, aren't you supposed to be a...

good advisor? You're also close to that model guy. Seems like a solid
choice to me."
This time, it was Peach who opened her mouth to argue, but she
quickly closed it, not knowing what to say. As much as she wanted to
deny it, Thee wasn’t exactly wrong. And to make matters worse, her
words resonated a little too close to home. Still, no matter how logical
it sounded, Peach couldn’t igure out how she was supposed to help
the mob boss with… this.
With a deep sigh, he resigned himself to the fact that things were
quickly spiraling out of control. But on the other hand, part of him was
genuinely worried for his younger friend. Aran didn’t exactly have the
best judgment when it came to people. Most of the people around Thee
seemed to be as far removed from common sense as the man himself.
As someone who still clung to a glimmer of rationality, Peach felt
compelled to step in.
"May I ask what you really think of Aran?" Peach inally ventured.
Thee didn't respond immediately. For a moment, she looked away, as if
she was considering something deeply. But when she looked back, her
expression was cold and composed, almost indifferent.
"Close to my type. I wouldn't mind having sex with him."
"So… what about anything else?" Peach pressed.
"Interesting. Pretty face."
"…"

Peach slapped her hand against her forehead, feeling the beginnings of
a headache throbbing behind her temples. Sure, she knew Thee was
gruff to the point of being oblivious to social norms, but this level of
brutal honesty was almost too much.
“But wasn’t Aran pretty clear in saying that he’s not interested in a
one-night stand with you?” Peach said quickly, her tone irm as she
tried – desperately – to inject some basic common sense into Thee. “I
think we should really respect his boundaries.” She leaned forward, her
voice irm despite the nerves that were starting to creep in. “Look, I
know someone like you probably has plenty of ways to get Aran to
conform. But forcing someone emotionally or in any other way isn’t
going to lead to anything good in the long run. Honestly, I don't think
it's worth it."
Thee fell silent, her gaze falling as if she was pondering something.
Peach, worried for her companion's safety, quickly chimed in again.
"You said Aran was more interesting than the usual models you know,
right?" Peach prompted, feeling like she was trying to tame a lion with
nothing but a toothpick.
"Why don't you start with something normal? You know, without
expecting sex to be the main focus?" he suggested, moving forward
cautiously.
"But that's my approach," Thee said, matter-of-factly.
Peach could barely resist the urge to slam her forehead against the car
window…

His brain felt fried, and he hadn't even done anything yet. He found
himself daydreaming about an iced Americano to calm his nerves.
What the hell was this mess? The urge to scream in frustration
bubbled up, but

He suppressed it. There was no way he was going to risk upsetting the
mob boss sitting right next to him.
“Just make it a part of the whole picture, okay?” Peach tried again,
forcing a calm tone. “If you think Aran is interesting, why don’t you try
to get to know him? Talk to him. Who knows? It might turn into
something real. Maybe even love. And when that happens, sex will
just…
It will happen… naturally, you know? It doesn't have to be the goal."
He described the explanation in one breath, barely pausing. To his
surprise, Thee did not interrupt or argue. He simply listened, his
expression serious.
"That's an interesting idea. You're close to Aran, right? Help me with
this."
Peach almost rolled her eyes, but managed to restrain herself. Of
course, Thee would try to woo someone like it was a business deal.
Forget about romance.
"We're not that close," Peach replied with a sigh. "We've worked
together a lot, sure, but it's not like we're best friends or anything.
I doubt I can be of much help."
"I don't expect that much from you," Thee said, dismissing it as if it
didn't matter.
Before Peach could igure out what to make of that, Thee waved to the
driver and waved her hand for him to start the car. No further
explanation. No clari ication.
Peach watched as the car glided smoothly, her wide, panicked eyes
looking around. He thought Thee would just call him for a quick chat
and then kick him out of the car.
Isn't that how it always happens in the movies?

"Mr. Arseny!"
“Tell me about Thee. Leave the ‘Arseny’ out – it’s annoying.” Thee
interrupted, her tone laced with irritation. However, the way she
glanced at Peach out of the corner of her eye seemed to say she was
waiting for the next question.
"Uh, well, Mr. Thee. So... where exactly are we going?"
The corner of Thee's mouth curved into a subtle smile, her eyes
shining with slight amusement.
"Let's have lunch. Do you have anything special in mind?"
Peach was still trying to wrap his head around the situation, but the
mention of food managed to snap him out of his confusion a bit. His
mind immediately went to the one thing he had been craving since he
picked up the phone that morning.
"Can we have a coffee irst? An iced americano, with extra coffee,
please," he blurted out almost desperately.
He needed something to anchor him, and caffeine was de initely at the
top of the list.

ATTENTION CALL #4
The sleek luxury car pulled into the parking lot of a high-end mall in
the city center. Too exhausted to argue or protest, Peach followed the
mob boss like a docile shadow.
It wasn't until he got an iced Americano from a fancy coffee shop and
took a few much-needed sips of caffeine that his fatigued mind inally
began to reset.
Walking behind Thee, the young photographer blended almost
effortlessly into the entourage, sipping his coffee from time to time as
he let his gaze wander aimlessly around the mall. At this point, he was
too resigned to care about being caught in the middle of a security
detail. The coffee in his hand and the bustling atmosphere of the mall
seemed a better focus than the awkwardness of his situation.
By the time his cup was halfway full, Thee had led him to a high-end
Japanese restaurant. Peach paused to stare at the sign, a little dazed,
until Thee’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts. Without much
choice, he followed the mob boss inside, still dazed.
It was exciting, though. Peach loved Japanese food, and eating at such
an expensive restaurant – one she had never even dreamed of visiting
–
It was de initely a thrill. But that thrill was accompanied by an
uncomfortable, oddly out-of-place feeling.
Perhaps it had something to do with the armed escorts and the fact
that his dinner companion was a mob boss.
She stood there silently lamenting her fate for a good three seconds
before one of the escorts gave her a gentle push forward. Following his
lead, she walked deeper into the restaurant, to the private dining area.
As the escort slid the door open, Peach

He was surprised to see that they didn't follow him. Instead, they left
him alone with the mob boss.
Seriously, guys? You're just going to leave me here with your boss? Alone?
Peach screamed internally, but obediently entered the private room.
What was she supposed to do? She was not a beautiful model whom
Thee would treat with indulgent patience if she decided to throw a
tantrum.
No, there was no point in trying his luck.
The sheer cost of this restaurant was staggering—there was no way
Peach could afford to eat here on her own. However, if someone else
was footing the bill, she wasn't going to turn down the opportunity.
“Order something,” Thee said, arms crossed, as the waiter placed the
menu on the table. Peach opened it and glanced at the options, but her
gaze was caught on the prices. Her brow furrowed slightly, a twinge of
discomfort emerging.
It wasn't like he didn't have any money, but spending thousands on a
single meal? That just...wasn't going to happen.
"Is this on you?" he asked, just to be sure, casting a wary glance at Thee
—complete with unintentional puppy dog eyes.
The mob boss hesitated for a moment, his expression unreadable,
before answering.
“I’m putting you to work. Of course, I’m paying.” His gruff tone might
have intimidated most people, but the con irmation had the opposite
effect on Peach. A bright smile spread across her face and she dove
back into the menu with renewed enthusiasm.

Peach had read glowing reviews of this place before – it was on one of
those “places you must eat before you die” lists. Back then, she could
only stare longingly at the photos on her phone, promising herself that
if she ever landed a big job, she would treat herself to a meal here. Now
that the opportunity had fallen into her lap (at no cost, at that), she
couldn’t help but take her time choosing.
After some internal debate, she inally settled on a large bowl of unagi
don. She heard Thee order something that sounded fancy, a steak of
some sort. Once the waiter served her food and quietly left, closing the
door behind him, the realization hit Peach like a barrel of bricks.
I was alone. In a private room. With Thee.
Good grief. The lure of good food had completely distracted him from
the blatantly obvious danger of being trapped with a mob boss.
How had I allowed this to happen?
Internally, Peach was screaming. His brow furrowed tightly and tension
returned to his body. He sat there, frozen, trying to think of how he
should handle this situation. But the more he tried to think, the more
blank his mind became, which only frustrated him more.
Between the lack of sleep and the mounting pressure of the past few
hours, Peach's bear had reached his limit. There was no way he could
come up with a clever plan to make sense of all this right now.
"Well, what's this about you needing me for something?" he asked,
getting straight to the point after hesitating for a moment. The sooner
they talked, the sooner he could eat, and the sooner he could fall into
bed.
Thee paused for a moment, looking like she was pondering something.
Finally, she spoke.

"You said that if I was interested, I should try lirting irst.

"How does that work?"
The young photographer blinked, completely confused, until the
previous night's conversation hit him like a ton of bricks.
Oh, right. He had told Thee not to use force; if he wanted someone, he
should just try lirting. But he hadn't thought the boy would actually
take him seriously.
A tough and strong ma ia boss who wants to woo someone? It seemed
like Aman's cuteness had really affected him.
But on the other hand, Aran was stupidly cute. That kind of face could
make a bad mob guy go crazy with love – classic romance novel stuff,
right? The tormented hero who starts out all strength, but is softened
by the person he loves. As his superior and his friend, it was probably
his job to keep the situation under control and make sure things didn’t
escalate into something violent or, God forbid, an actual assault. Just a
bit of harmless banter and maybe a little “love-hate,” and everything
should be ine.
"I'm not exactly an expert at winning people over," he said with a small
shrug. Now that he knew why Thee had come to him, all of his previous
tension and uneasiness began to fade away. Plus, it was clearly none of
his business directly, which made him feel even more at ease. The
conversation began to low more naturally.
"But you've dated someone before, right?" Thee pressed.
He shook his head quickly, an awkward smile tugging at his lips as he
scratched the back of his neck. “Not really. We were friends irst.”
She asked me out after breaking up with her ex, and we lasted, like, a
month before she lamed out.

The mob boss frowned, his forehead wrinkling as if he wanted to say

something, but the food arrived just then. He waited until everything
was served before continuing, probably so as not to seem pushy
without really having any experience.
"I think courtship is a personal art," she said, "it's about showing
genuine intent, getting to know each other better and inding out if
you're compatible. It's a step toward seeing if a relationship can grow."
"Why bother? It's just sex. Does it need to be so complicated?"
"It may just be sex for you, but if the other person doesn't want it, you
can't just go around forcing it on them, right?" he said irmly, trying to
talk some sense into Thee. The thought of this mob boss losing his
patience and actually forcing himself on Aran sent a chill down her
spine.
Thee’s eyebrows furrowed further, as if she was about to retort, and
the sight of that gave her a headache. Seriously, what kind of
upbringing made someone’s logic so twisted?
"Put yourself in their shoes for a second," he insisted. "If someone
forced you to do something you didn't want to do, wouldn't you be
angry?"
Thee snorted loudly, full of disdain. “Who dares?”
Peach rolled her eyes, resisting the urge to bang her head against the
nearest wall. Why was this conversation so exhausting?
"It's a hypothetical, okay?" He sighed, feeling the conversation
draining him of all his energy. He decided to change tactics. "If it were
me, I'd be devastated. I'd be furious. I'd hate them for the rest of my
life. There would be no chance of forgiveness, ever."

He waded into the drama, building it up to make his point, watching as

Thee's frown deepened further and further. He waited until he felt he
had scared Thee enough before he softened his tone.
"Look, just think about it, Mr. Thee. Don't act on impulse. Imagine if
someone did that to you – wouldn't it hurt?" Even if it's just a one-
night stand, if the other person isn't willing, it's not right. Using
money, power, or manipulation to make someone give in doesn't lead
to anything good."
With that, Peach turned his attention to the huge bowl of eel rice in
front of him. He grabbed a big bite with his chopsticks, and as soon as
the food touched his tongue, his mood lifted.
He focused on eating, savoring each bite, not caring about the look
Thee was giving him from across the table.
They both focused on their food for a while, letting the silence stretch
between them, until the conversation unexpectedly came up again. To
Peach's surprise, it was Mr. Ma ia who broke it.
"I'm interested in that model. Can you help me get in touch with him?"
Peach froze mid-bite, chopsticks still in his mouth, and looked up in
confusion. "I mean, I could do it , but...
"Wouldn't it be better if you addressed it yourself? It would probably
feel more genuine."
"And how exactly should I approach it?" Thee asked, sounding more
and more like a curious child.
"Well, maybe you start by giving him a small gift."
"What kind of gift? Should I buy him a car?"

Peach nearly choked on his food, feeling grateful that he had swallowed
his mouthful of cel rice. "A car??? Are you crazy, Mr. Thee?"
"No? How about a diamond ring? Or maybe a condo?"
"OMGGGGGGG," Peach whispered, dropping her forehead onto the table
in dramatic fashion. The more Thee talked, the more she realized this
conversation was getting out of hand. "Control your thinking, Mr. Thee!
You can't just throw money around like that – it's too much!"
"I don't think it's that expensive," Thee replied, her tone completely
serious.
Peach stared at him, stunned, before raising a hand to stop him. This
needed to be stopped before Thee's next idea crossed the line from
ridiculous to downright terrifying.
"Let's rewind and start with something simple," Peach suggested,
trying to steer things in a safer direction. "Why don't you learn more
about Aran irst? Like what he likes. That way, you'll be able to give him
something thoughtful, and that'll make things easier for you. Plus,
you'll have an advantage over Tawan."
The ma ia lord raised an eyebrow at the unfamiliar name, looking
intrigued. Peach, who had been observing his reaction, quickly
explained.
"Tawan is a rising star – super popular right now."
Peach explained. "He's really close to Aran, almost like they're a couple,
but Aran told me they're just talking. Still, Tawan cares a lot for him,
he's handsome, kind, generous, but incredibly jealous."
The more Peach spoke, the more Thee's eyebrows furrowed, her face
darkening with obvious irritation. It was as if a storm cloud had
gathered around her, radiating an ominous energy. Peach paused,
realizing a little too late that she had been

praising Thee's love rival. Probably not the smartest move.

But, uh, his status is still just “talking,” he quickly added, offering a
sheepish smile. “Nothing is really of icial, you know?”
Thee didn't move, her frown as deep as ever. Peach let the awkward
silence linger for a moment, her mind struggling to ind a way to
salvage the conversation. Finally, she spoke again.
"Why don't we start with a bouquet of pretty lowers?" he suggested,
desperate to change the subject. "Your irst conversation didn't exactly
go smoothly, so sending lowers as an apology might be a good idea."
He hesitated brie ly, realizing he could offer more useful advice, and
continued.
"In fact, since Aran is the new brand ambassador for Arseny and has
just inished shooting his fall collection, you could send him a small
gift to congratulate him. Something simple, like chocolates, which are
classic and most people like them. Although, for Aran, they should be
extra sweet. He has a great love for sweets."
"What about you? What do you like?"
"…"
The abrupt question surprised Peach, making him widen his eyes
slightly in confusion. He seemed completely out of place in their
discussion, leaving an awkward pause between them.

"I'm just asking for reference. I've never actually given a gift to anyone
before."
Peach blinked a few times before replying with a murmur, her earlier
confusion disappearing in an instant. “You can’t use that as a
reference, though. When you choose a gift, the irst thing you should
think about is the recipient’s preferences. That’s the basic way to show
sincerity.”
Thee frowned slightly, looking both annoyed and a little exasperated,
but not angry enough to be intimidating.
Peach watched him tilt his head in mild frustration, and then—
Surprisingly—a faint smile appeared on Thee's lips. Peach's own
thoughts betrayed him. Wow. Does he almost look...
endearing?
...Wait. Nice? The mob boss who probably kept a gun within easy reach
and carried an air of constant menace? What? what the hell is wrong
with me?
He let out a long sigh, dismissing the ridiculous thought, and looked
down at the eel in his bowl. Fine. For the sake of this ridiculously good
lunch, he would help. But it had nothing to do with inding Thee
pleasant. Not. One. Bit.
“Don’t worry about it, Mr. Thee. I already promised to help, didn’t I? I’ll
investigate and see if I can ind out what Aran likes. Once I know, you
can buy him something based on that.” With that, Peach returned her
focus to her bowl of eel, savoring every bite. Honestly, when she
thought about Tawan—the temperamental rising star that he was—
she found herself silently awarding another point to the young heir of
the Arseny family.
In the end, Peach decided to treat this whole situation like watching a
play

develop – just with a front row seat. Not bad. Could be fun.

ATTENTION CALL #5
This brunch would go down in history as one of the most unforgettable
meals of Peach's life.
Not just because it was at his dream restaurant that he had been
longing to visit, or because the meal lived up to expectations – but
because of the man sitting across from him. A bona ide Russian ma ia
boss, complete with a gun and bodyguards at his side. That alone
would have been enough to make this a memorable meal.
If the food hadn't been so ridiculously expensive and deliciously good,
Peach would have run out the moment she sat down. Instead, she
stayed, her nerves so tense that she felt as if her stomach might stop
working altogether.
She popped a couple of antacids and digestive pills into her mouth,
chasing them down with water without a thought to when she was
supposed to take them. Honestly, the fact that she wasn't swallowing a
migraine pill on top of that was nothing short of a miracle.
"Well, I guess I should go now. Thanks for the meal."
Peach said with an awkward smile, his voice stiff. Now that he had
inished eating, the conversation had dried up, leaving him unsure of
what to do with himself.
He wanted to turn and walk away, but the other man was still there,
staring at him silently. The weight of Thee's gaze froze Peach in place,
her feet refusing to move.
Thee stood with her arms crossed, her expression indescribable as if
she was weighing something in her mind. After a long moment, she
inally spoke.

"You gave good advice. How much do you want for it? Ten thousand?
Would that do?"
"Hey?"
Peach blinked, completely lost. How had the conversation gotten back
to money?
The mob boss, however, seemed to take Peach's confusion lightly.
Instead of clarifying, Thee touched her chin, her expression thoughtful.
"Not enough? I intentionally thought of paying ten thousand for each
tip, and your tip was pretty solid. Okay, I'll increase it to ifty. Happy
now?"
The young photographer groaned, rubbing his temples as if he was
trying to keep his head from exploding. He felt like he might actually
cry. Why was it so fucking hard to talk to a Russian mob boss?
Sure, the guy's words were frustrating as hell – like he was trying to
solve every problem by throwing money at her – but Peach couldn't
blow up at him. Losing her temper could make her
"drive" before she even inished her next fashion shoot.
Do I want money? Of course. But accepting it would be like signing up
to be this man’s personal lackey, and he was pretty sure that tangling
with Thee wouldn’t end well. He would most likely end up dead long
before he spent a cent of it.
Peach took a deep breath, calming herself, then asked, "Why are you
trying to give me money?"
"You did a good job. I'm satis ied. I reward people when I'm satis ied."

Peach let out a long, tired sigh. Did she really have to break this down
to the basics?
"Please do me a favor and never say that to Aran. He'll get irritated,"
Peach said, exhaling dramatically as if the weight of the world was on
his shoulders. He wasn't even sure how to formulate his next thought.
Thee frowned, looking more confused than offended. It wasn't exactly
encouraging, but at least he wasn't pulling out a gun. That gave Peach
the courage to push her luck a little and offer some advice.
"That kind of formulation sounds really harsh," he explained, trying to
sound both serious and a little pitiful. "It's like you're just throwing
money around to buy people off. But I came here out of good will.
"I really wanted to help you, Mr. Thee." Peach wasn't just explaining,
she was boosting her own value. Maybe, just maybe, she could get
some sympathy from this mob boss.
I know my name wasn't Aran.
But seriously, would you stop frowning like that? It was exhausting.
“How is it cruel to reward someone for being good to me?” Thee
frowned again, her irritation seeming to deepen.
"The meal just now was more than enough as a thank you," Peach said
with a small nervous pause before continuing. "It was delicious,
honestly, I've wanted to eat there for a long time, but never got the
chance." She hesitated, then added, "And if someone does something
kind for you and makes you happy, all you really have to do is say thank
you."
The mob boss remained silent, his expression unreadable. The
bodyguards nearby exchanged strange glances,

caught between sti ling laughter and mild panic. But Thee paid them
no attention, her gaze ixed irmly on Peach.
Despite knowing she wouldn't hear what she expected, Peach couldn't
help but hold her breath in anticipation.
Thee seemed to be pondering something, her lips moving slightly as if
she were trying out unfamiliar words. Finally, after what seemed like
an eternity, she said in a calm, monotonous voice.
"Thank you."
That was all it took to light up Peach's face. A radiant smile spread
across her lips, reaching her eyes and making them curve into crescent
moons. She hadn't expected it, not really, but now that she'd heard it,
she couldn't deny how happy it made her.
Finally, her words seemed to have reached the man.
"You're welcome," Peach replied warmly.
………………..
Theerakit was a Russian ma ia boss through and through.
His father had been a Russian ma ia leader – an arms dealer who
started out as a middleman and worked his way to the top, eventually
owning his own weapons manufacturing company.
Today, his father dominated the global black market arms trade,
supplying everyone from small-time gangsters to national
governments. The Arseny name was infamous in the shadows of the
underworld.
In recent years, various organizations had begun to investigate his
empire. Although no one dared to take a direct step, the constant

meddling had become a nuisance. In response, Thee had created a

legitimate front: a luxury brand specializing in jewelry and perfumes,
which turned out to be the perfect machine for laundering money from
the family's arms business.
Of course, many of the pieces of jewelry contained hidden surprises –
Some were modi ied to become weapons, others made from the same
high-grade metal used in the manufacture of weapons. With Thee’s
keen business sense and determined leadership, the Arseny jewelry
and perfume brand soared to prominence within its irst year of
launch, achieving a prominent position in the luxury market.
It was a classic case of "the apple doesn't fall far from the tree. With a
father like hers, how could Thee have turned out any different?
I had grown up learning that if you wanted something, you had to ight,
claw, and manipulate to get it. Reward those who cooperate. Punish
those who don't, and always make sure people feared you. That was
the way it had always been.
But today – right here, right now – someone looked him in the eye and
asked for nothing more than a meal and a simple "thank you."
Apologies and gratitude. Words as empty as they come. Thee never
thought those words could get her anything worthwhile.
So when Peach asked him, Thee hesitated. He, a man who had never
uttered such words in his life, found himself considering the request
carefully. But then he saw those bright, honest eyes looking at him, half
expectant, half resigned. And he thought, okay. He had already
promised a reward. If a two-syllable word was all it took, it wasn’t
much effort.

What he didn't expect was that those two simple syllables would light
up Peach's face like the sun breaking through storm clouds. Her
radiant smile was so dazzling it was almost blinding.
For a moment, he wondered – if the guy actually liked hearing that.
Was it in any way more valuable to him than receiving ten thousand?
Shaking off that ridiculous thought, he dismissed it as nothing more
than… a quirk of Peach's. There was nothing particularly fascinating
about it.
Shaking that strange moment from his mind, he returned to his work,
tapping the screen of his tablet. He preferred to have all his documents
sent digitally, ready to be uploaded and read on any of his devices.
Given how much he traveled, maintaining paper documents was a
nuisance he had no patience for. Thanks to this setup, he could work
anywhere, even in the middle of a traf ic jam on a congested street in
the city center.
Thee had been reading documents for a while when she inally sat back
and looked up to rest her tired eyes. Her sharp, piercing eyes fell on a
small lower shop along the sidewalk outside. For some reason, a
conversation from three days ago replayed in her mind.
She igured lowers were a good starting point.
"Mok, order a small bouquet and send it to Aran," he said calmly to his
bodyguard-secretary sitting in front. His tone was indifferent, and his
eyes remained ixed on the lower shop without much enthusiasm for
the task.
"What kind of lowers should I buy, boss?"
"Any."

That answer made his secretary hesitate slightly, not knowing what to
make of the situation. He had heard rumors that Thee, for the irst
time, seemed to be genuinely interested in the famous Aran model.
The fact that Thee had bothered to order lowers, a gesture he had
never done for anyone else, was signi icant. However, when asked for
speci ics, Thee seemed almost disinterested.
Unaware of Mok’s thoughts, Thee’s mind had drifted elsewhere.
Normally, her thoughts would be illed with Aran’s strikingly beautiful
features: the captivating eyes, the con ident smile, the aura that
demanded attention. But lately, another face had begun to break
through. The soft, warm voice from that day kept echoing in her mind,
accompanied by the memory of a radiant smile that seemed to light up
an otherwise ordinary face.
Peach's features were not conventionally impressive, nor did they
demand a second glance.
However, for a brief moment, that smile had rendered him completely
still, something no one had ever managed before. The simple smile he
had received after muttering a "thank you" hadn't left his thoughts
since.
"Send some chocolates to Peachayarat too."
"Yes, boss."
"Choose something that's not too sweet."
"...Yes, boss." Mok almost choked on his breath before he could answer.
How could he not be surprised? The boss had never given such
detailed instructions for a gift - not even to his own father.

Thee pressed her lips together, hesitating a moment before adding

another instruction.
"Write a card to go with it," he said, his tone casual but measured.
After a brief pause, he continued, "Write: 'I leave it in your hands.'"
A slight smile tugged at the corner of his lips, a rare, subtle expression
of satisfaction.

From now on, I will leave myself in your capable hands.

.......... .

More iles here

ATTENTION CALL #6
The fragrances in Arseny’s fall collection were divided into four
distinct advertising segments, with Aran as the brand ambassador for
the season. Although the promotional photo shoot had just ended,
there was still the commercials to be ilmed and additional photos to
be taken for the current season’s promotions.
Yesterday, there was a pre- ilming meeting to inalize plans, and Peach,
the collection's lead photographer, had to attend to prepare to capture
behind-the-scenes images and promotional shots during ilming.
During that meeting, Peach saw Aran holding a huge bouquet of
lowers. It was an elegant arrangement of various lowers in soft white
hues, with nothing but a sleek black business card discreetly placed
among the lowers. The model looked visibly confused, probably
wondering what to make of the gesture.
Yes, the opponent was the head of the Russian ma ia, and the two had
exchanged some heated words just a few days ago. Now, out of the
blue, a huge bouquet arrived – no card, no apology, just an enigmatic
business card indicating who had sent it. Anyone who received such a
gift would understand feeling trapped and uncomfortable.
Peach rubbed her temples, resisting the urge to groan. She didn't
expect Thee to take her advice so literally! Couldn't she at least include
a simple card that said "I'm sorry"?
Taking a risk, Peach stepped in to calm the situation, suggesting that
perhaps the bouquet was Thee's way of apologizing for their argument
the other day. Aran's large, doe-like eyes illed with skepticism as he
grabbed Peach's arm and shook it, as if demanding to know how he
could be so sure of that.

Before Peach could fully explain, Tawan unexpectedly appeared. Seeing

Aran holding the huge bouquet with one arm and irmly gripping
Peach’s arm with the other was enough to make Tawan’s temper lare.
The young photographer quickly broke free and took three large steps
back while stammering that the lowers weren’t his.
The young actor turned and gave her a withering look before grabbing
Peach by the arm and dragging him out of the of ice at breakneck
speed. On the way, he grabbed the bouquet and threw it into the trash
without a second thought.
Should she have asked him about it irst? Of course she had. Aran was
attractive, but that didn’t mean everyone was madly in love with him
like Thee seemed to believe. How many times would she have to
explain herself before they actually listened to her?
Honestly, maybe Mr. Thee wasn't the only one who needed a reality
check.
Peach sighed and rubbed her temples, already considering bringing a
stick of smelling salts with her if every day was going to be this
stressful.
It was the irst day of shooting a commercial, and Peach was on set to
take additional photos.
For once, he was free from playing the big boss and had left the reins in
the hands of the commercial's director. With only his trusty camera
hanging around his neck, he strolled around the set, casually capturing
interesting shots.
He exchanged greetings with a few colleagues and had barely started
photographing when one of the team members came running up,
panting heavily. Without saying a word, the team member handed him
a sleek black box.

Peach raised an eyebrow in confusion, but took the box anyway. It was a
high-end, all-black box of chocolates, labeled as America’s Premium
Dark Chocolate, with 90% cocoa content. The packaging exuded luxury,
and attached to it was a small note.
The handwriting was quick and somewhat messy, but still elegant, and
contained only two words:
"I'll leave it to you."
Peach froze, completely baf led. Who was this chocolate for? And what
did they want him to do with it? Before he could ponder further, he
turned the note over to look at the other side. There, a sleek black
business card with shiny silver edges greeted him. In large,
unmistakable letters, it bore the name Arseny Enterprises.
He turned the note over again, looking at the cryptic message again.
What exactly did he – the mob boss himself – want to leave for him?
Or maybe it means, "Could you give this to Aran for me?"
Peach nodded to himself, convinced that this was what it must be.
Yesterday it was lowers to apologize; today it was chocolates to
celebrate the irst day of ilming the commercial. However, the plan
had gone a little off track.
I had reminded them over and over to choose something sweet – Aran
loves desserts!
Still, it was premium chocolate. Maybe it was the most delicious, top-
notch recipe in the store or something.
With that in mind, Peach felt torn. Sure, he could feel a little proud that,
for once, they were taking his suggestion seriously.
But now that the plan had gone astray, there wasn't much he could do
except improvise to make this seem like a success. The more

The more impressive it might seem, the more points Arseny would
accumulate on Aran's list – and the safer Peach himself would be.
Peach headed straight for the staff lounge, walking until she saw Aran's
name on the door. She knocked once and waited for the soft sound of
permission before pushing the door open.
Inside, Aran, the stunningly handsome model, sat at his vanity table.
His makeup was already lawless, leaving only his hair to be done.
"Peach! You're here too," Aran greeted him with a bright, cheerful
smile. He turned to thank the stylist before practically skipping over to
Peach.
"I had to come take some behind-the-scenes photos. Plus, it's your
irst commercial – I had to introduce myself and cheer you on," Peach
replied with a smile, which only made Aran smile even more.
The photographer handed her a small bouquet – just three or four
lowers, arranged simply but sweetly, as a gesture of support for Aran’s
big day. But when Peach looked at the table behind Aran, a wave of
embarrassment washed over him.
The table was laden with gifts – and they were lavish, too. Her modest
bouquet of lowers looked downright plain in comparison. And there it
was –
a huge bouquet of red roses, easily numbering close to a hundred
stems, by his estimation.
No prize was needed to guess who it was from.
It was de initely from Tawan.
Was this his way of getting back at Theerakit for the apology bouquet
last time?
He couldn’t help but feel both amused and annoyed. Tawan – a young
actor and the only son of a billionaire – was spoiled and stubborn,
always eager to win. It was no surprise that he would put so much
effort into something like this.
Despite appearing to be a problem, Tawan wasn't all bad. Deep down,
he was polite, respectful, and well-mannered. His charming way of
speaking often won him the affection of others. Even his demanding
attitude was seen by many as endearing.
It seemed like he was the only one who, whenever he met Tawan, was
greeted with a look that screamed that she wanted him dead. Not once
had there been a hint of kindness.
Peach sighed, exasperated. He had no idea what else he could do to
convince the actor that he wasn't interested in the model. This jealous,
irrational rage that Tawan displayed whenever Aran interacted with
another man... what was so fascinating about it? And yet, the makeup
artists were shrieking about it like it was the juiciest drama they'd
ever seen.
Shaking off her wandering thoughts, Peach held out the bouquet. She
wasn't concerned if her small gift looked unimpressive compared to
the others. She was just there to show some professional courtesy as a
senior colleague, nothing more.
"This is from me. I wish you a smooth shoot," he said with a smile,
handing her the bouquet before continuing with the luxurious box of
chocolates. "And this is from someone who wanted to congratulate you
on your irst commercial."
Aran took the bouquet, hugging it carefully, and then reached out for
the elegant box. Her perfectly de ined eyebrows furrowed as she
turned it over, searching for some card that would reveal who the
sender was.

"Whose is this?" the model asked, raising his eyebrows in confusion.

"From the sender of yesterday's white bouquet."
Aran froze. The model's delicate features transformed, a mix of
confusion and wariness crossing his face. Peach simply smiled at him,
her expression soft, trying to reassure him.
"He probably just wants to congratulate you on your irst commercial.
Just accept it," Peach urged, trying to igure everything out quickly. He
was terri ied that Aran might reject him and give him back the box of
chocolates. He didn't even want to imagine what would happen if he
failed this mission. Would that infernal mob boss show his true colors?
No way. There was absolutely no chance he was going to let his neck –
or his head – end up on the wrong end of a bullet.
Aran hesitated for a moment before inally giving in and opening the
box. A faint sweet and sour aroma spread out the instant the lid was
lifted, and his eyes lit up with curiosity. Taking out a piece, he brought
it to his mouth only to instantly frown, his lips pressed together in an
obvious display of displeasure.
“It’s so bitter, Peach!” Aran complained, fumbling around for a bottle of
water to wash it down. Peach simply shook her head with a
sympathetic look. Of course it was bitter – it was 90% cocoa. What did
Aran expect?
Now that the box had been of icially opened, Peach didn't hold back.
He took a piece for himself and let it melt on his tongue. The intense
chocolate lavor spread through his mouth, balanced by a slight
sweetness at the end.

The light scent of cocoa lingering in the air was oddly soothing.
Nodding to himself, he couldn't help but admit: This is some top-notch
chocolate.
"Don't you think it's bitter, Peach?" Aran growled, eyeing him warily as
he held the water bottle like it was his lifeline.
"Nah, just a little. It's very good, it's very good quality."
Aran rested his chin on his hand, watching as Peach absentmindedly
took another bite. He looked so absorbed in the rich lavor that Aran
couldn't help but tease him.
You know, I think that guy probably wanted to give this chocolate to
you, not me.
Peach froze mid-chew, choking on the piece in his mouth. He coughed
violently, the sound echoing in the small room as Aran hurriedly
grabbed a bottle of water for him. Peach downed half of it in one gulp
before inally catching his breath, though his arms were still covered in
goosebumps. There was no way—not in a million years—that Russian
mob guy had bought the chocolates from him. Just thinking about it
made his skin crawl.
"It's not like that – it's for you," Peach explained hastily, pausing before
taking another piece of chocolate. Suddenly, the rich taste didn't seem
so appetizing anymore.
"How could it be mine?" Aran replied, crossing his arms. "I only eat
sweet things. Desserts, cakes – anything sugary. The only person I
know who likes bitter dark chocolate is you , Peach."

Peach instantly frowned. The question had crossed her mind as soon
as she received the chocolates. Someone like Arseny, a real mob boss,
probably wouldn’t have the time—or the interest—to hand-pick gifts.
That was something his secretary would de initely have handled.
But there was no way he could say that out loud! Otherwise, the
ma ia's points with Aran would be in the dumps.
"He probably didn't know," Peach said quickly, trying to smooth things
over. "It's probably just the best chocolate in the store, so he asked for
it. I mean, you've only met him once, right? How would he know what
you like or dislike? Give him a chance to ind out. Next time, I'm sure
he'll bring you something sweeter."
And please, Peach thought to himself , that mob guy really listen and get
it right next time!
He chatted a bit more with Aran before getting up to take some
behind-the-scenes photos. It wasn't long before Aran took his place in
front of the camera, ready to shoot the commercial.
Peach paced back and forth, looking for the perfect angle to capture the
action. For a brief moment, her mind wandered back to the young
mobster. That box of chocolates was probably for Aran, the mob boss’s
favorite model, but there Peach was, having already eaten half of it.
Would he be mad if he found out?
The thought made Peach frown uncomfortably. After mulling it over,
she decided to do something about it. Taking out her phone, she
snapped a photo of Aran, making sure to capture his soft, charming
smile.
Once he was satis ied with the edit, he sent the image to the man who
had sent the chocolates.

After saving the number in her phone, the messaging app had
automatically added the mob boss to her contacts, but Peach had
never dared to contact him before. Today, however, she thought it was
probably a good idea – at least for her own safety.
– as a loyal subordinate who was required to keep the boss informed.
PE@CH: Mission accomplished with chocolates.
Here's something extra for you.
Send Photo
Peach saw the “read” noti ication pop up on her message and calmly
put the phone back in her pocket. She thought that would be it. But just
as she was locking the screen, the phone vibrated insistently in her
hand. It was a reply.
T: Where are you?
Peach blinked, confused. Why would he want to know that? Still, he
quickly typed out a polite reply.
PE@CH: Study A.
T: On the way.
Wait! What? He froze. On the way? Here? Why? Did he get angry? Did he
somehow ind out that Peach had eaten half of the chocolates?
Peach felt like she was about to scream inside as she held her phone in
one hand and an imaginary stress ball in the other. She wished she
could come up with some urgent excuse to disappear from this place.
Please let him go!

ATTENTION CALL #7
Click.
Peach continued taking photos, ful illing her duties perfectly, though
her mind kept returning to the message from before. Her heart was
beating so loudly it was alarming.
No, this wasn't a romantic emotion. Her racing heart was fueled by
pure panic, nothing more.
He let out a silent sigh, still unable to understand why this Russian
mob boss would bother coming to such a small studio. Sure, this
commercial shoot was under the umbrella of his company, but did the
CEO really have to oversee it in person?
Peach snapped another photo and then looked down to check her
work. The last shot was of Arseny, the young model turning to smile at
the camera.
His smile stretched wide, his eyes narrowed in that charming way that
made anyone who looked at the photo smile, too.
He really was a naturally charming model.
Peach found herself getting lost for a moment before she froze. A
memory suddenly surfaced. What had she said to Thee earlier? Oh
right, she had sent him a picture. A picture of Aran ready on set,
looking fresh and cheerful, and she had captioned it as a “Souvenir” for
the mob boss who had been so obsessed with the young model.
That's it! He's here for Arseny.
With this revelation, Peach felt her tense shoulders relax a little. The
urgency in Thee's messages, her quick arrival – it all had

sense now he wanted to see Aran. In the past few weeks, the two hadn't
had a chance to see each other at all. Things had been so stagnant
between them that the young ma ia man didn't even have Aran's
phone number!
But on the other hand, maybe Thee already had Aran's number. With
her in luence, getting a model's contact information shouldn't be a
challenge. Still, she probably wouldn't dare call and arrange a date on
her own.
That was probably for the best. If Aran found out that Thee had gotten
her number through dubious means, it might leave a bad impression.
Feeling a little more at ease with that thought, Peach went back to
taking photos. Time was lying by, and the next thing he noticed was a
commotion in a corner of the studio. However, he was so focused on
his work that he didn't pay much attention to it.
It wasn't until the director called a break, allowing Aran to change for
the next session, that Peach began to notice something wasn't right.
As he was going through the photos on his camera, he noticed
someone was staring at him. Lifting his head, he was met with a sharp,
intense gaze that made him jump slightly.
There, sitting behind the director with his arms crossed, was the
imposing igure of the Russian-Thai mob boss. But Thee’s piercing
eyes were not ixed on the director’s screen as they should have been,
but were ixed on Peach with a predatory glint, as if he had found his
prey. The intensity of that gaze made a shiver run down Peach’s spine,
raising the hairs on her neck.
Why are you looking at me? Did I do something wrong?

Peach frowned, breaking eye contact and pretending to focus on her

camera, even though her mind was racing.
After a while, looking at the camera time screen, something clicked.
It's already late. Maybe he's just waiting for Aran. Or maybe he's upset
because I didn't schedule him properly.
Peach glanced at the director, who looked visibly uncomfortable with
Thee sitting right behind him. The poor man eventually excused
himself to go check on the set, probably to escape the overwhelming
pressure of the mob boss’s presence. Taking advantage of the moment,
Peach walked over, giving the middle-aged director a slight bow before
leaning in and whispering something softly.
"I think we should call it a day." Peach suggested quietly, stealing a
glance at the mob boss, whose gaze seemed even sharper than before.
The director wiped his forehead, visibly uncomfortable.
After taking a quick look at his imposing guest, he quickly nodded in
agreement.
Peach stood back as the director announced the end of the day,
shouting for everyone to pack up. Smiling quickly at her peers, Peach
headed straight to the model's changing room with determined steps.
He knocked on the door, and when a voice from inside said to come in,
he opened it.
Inside, Aran was removing his makeup, looking relaxed.
Someone had probably already informed him that the session was
over for the day. When Aran saw who it was, he immediately perked up
and asked.
"Why did they cancel, Peach?"
"We inished faster than planned, so the director said we could take a
break."
Peach replied, half seriously, half jokingly. She walked over, hesitating
for a moment as she tried to ind the words for what she had to say.
Finally, she managed to say:
"Aran, Mr. Arseny passed by here today."
The young man froze, turning completely towards him, his large eyes
wide with a mix of surprise and distrust. He looked like a scared little
animal, fragile and vulnerable. Peach couldn't help but smile slightly as
she reached out to gently stroke the young man's head a few times,
trying to comfort him.
Just for a moment – he quickly pulled his hand back, knowing perfectly
well that if Tawan walked in and saw this, he would probably end up
with a black eye.
“Why is he here? Is he mad at me?” Aran frowned deeply, his lips
pressed into a tight line as doubt crossed his face. Peach couldn’t help
but let out a laugh, tempted to ask how on earth Aran had come to that
conclusion.
That mob boss would probably eat you if he could!
Peach kept the thought to himself. There was no way he was going to
blurt that out and send the guy in front of him into a full-blown panic. If
that happened, Peach igured he would probably be the one who would
end up getting shot.
"Maybe he just wants to patch things up with you," Peach said casually,
her tone soft and relaxed. "You're going to be working together for a
while, right?" Of course, Peach knew that a company president
wouldn't bother making peace with a model just because he was the
brand ambassador of

this season. But well, it was the most reasonable excuse he could think
of to calm Aran down.
The model fell silent, his face set in deep concentration. Peach decided
to give him a little push.
"Come on, why don't you come out and say hello? It's the polite thing
to do," Peach suggested.
Then, sensing Aran's hesitation, he added, "Oh, and I wouldn't be
surprised if someone mentions that Tawan threw Arseny's bouquet.
Better to clear things up before it causes any drama, don't you think?"
Aran frowned even more at that, but eventually nodded slowly, albeit
reluctantly. Seeing him give in, Peach smiled widely.
He was about to suggest to Aran that he freshen up his look a bit when
his phone vibrated in his pocket.
Peach pulled it out, leaving Aran to continue packing his things. The
noti ication on the screen was hard to miss: T: It's already dark outside.
Are you not having dinner?
Peach blinked, looking at the message as if it had come out of nowhere.
What is that supposed to mean? Was Thee implying that I should invite
Aran to dinner or something?
The photographer sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling an
imaginary bead of sweat run down his forehead. Just today, how many
times had he played mediator, lied, and bent his back for these two?
Why couldn't they just fall in love or start dating without dragging the
rest of the world with them?

Peach groaned internally, her frustration boiling over. She wanted to

grab Cupid by the collar and beat some sense into him. Why aren’t you
doing your job? Why are you dumping all of this on me? But as soon as
she pictured Cupid’s face, it ended up looking suspiciously like
Arseny’s. Resigned, Peach sighed again and accepted her role in this
ridiculous drama, as much of a pain in the ass as it was.
Before long, Aran adjusted the strap of his bag and walked over to
Peach, nodding like a soldier preparing for battle. Peach quickly
changed her attitude, softening her expression into a gentle smile as if
to reassure him. He approached the manager and told him that he
could leave now, because Peach would be the one accompanying the
model.
After all, he had Thee waiting. He could always pass the baton to her
later.
They walked side by side, Peach keeping the conversation light,
throwing in playful banter to get a laugh or two from Aran. The model
relaxed, the tension in his shoulders easing. It wasn’t long before they
reached the studio exit, where Mr. Thee was already waiting for them,
arms crossed, radiating his usual authoritative presence.
Peach tilted her head and walked forward with a forced smile.
"Good evening, Mr. Thee. What an honor to have you personally
supervising our work."
Thee’s frown deepened instantly, her face darkening with clear
disapproval. Not even trying to hide her annoyance, she glared at
Peach with obvious fury. But Peach didn’t care. Mission accomplished:
she had managed to drag Aran here. And with Tawan out of the picture
today, there wouldn’t be a better opportunity than that.

Peach smiled widely and pointed at the model. "Allow me to formally

introduce Aran, our main model for the fall collection."
Then, turning to Aran, he nudged him lightly. "Come on,
Ran, say hello. This is Theerakit Arseny, Chairman of the
Arseny Corporation."
Aran glanced brie ly at Thee, then bowed politely with his hands
clasped together in a perfect wai. Peach let out a subtle sigh of relief,
grateful that Aran still had the presence of mind to do things correctly
at the right time.
The mobster's piercing grey eyes softened – if only slightly.
– but Peach noticed. She gave herself a mental pat on the back for her
success and wasted no time in getting straight to the point.
"Wow, it's already late, isn't it? I totally forgot that I have an urgent
meeting tonight," Peach said, giving herself a theatrical slap to the
forehead. "I can't believe you forgot about our dinner plans, Mr. Thee.
I'm so sorry!"
The mobster turned to him abruptly, his steely grey gaze now illed
with an almost predatory intensity. His displeasure was palpable, so
much so that one of his nearby subordinates instinctively took a step
back. But Peach, blissfully oblivious, was unfazed. Instead, she turned
to Aran, taking his hands in her own and putting on the most pitiful
voice she could muster to plead with him.
"Mr. Thee is really involved in this fall collection project. And since you
don't have anything scheduled today, I beg you, Ran, could you please
talk to him for me? On the way back, I'm sure Thee's team can drop you
off."
"I don't need a ride, Peach, I can go home on my own," Aran replied,
shaking his head so quickly that his hair lew everywhere. But Peach
wasn't about to give up now, not now.

when she had already committed herself to this task. She squeezed
Aran's hands tighter, looking at him with the most pleading expression
she could muster.
"I promised our manager, Ran. How can I break my word?"
Plus, you're getting more and more popular. What if you stop the
wrong driver or run into some obsessed fan? What would you do
then?" Peach blurted out the words, not giving Aran a chance to
respond.
Without wasting a second, Peach turned back to Thee, grabbed her
larger hand and directed it towards Aran's smaller hand, physically
joining their hands together.
In her hurried nervousness, Peach completely forgot that she shouldn't
touch Thee so casually. But there she was, slipping Aran's delicate
hand into Thee's broad palm as if she were sealing some sort of deal.
"Okay, I'll leave it in your hands then!"
Peach declared with a quick bow. Before any of them could react, she
released their hands, turned on her heel, and ran towards a taxi
waiting nearby.
Professionalism at its inest! he thought, already imagining eating a
wagyu steak after having achieved such a trick.
………………..
Theerakit froze for a moment because no one had ever forced anything
—or anyone—on him like that and then ran away.
Her sharp eyes followed Peach until the photographer disappeared
into the taxi. Thee's eyebrows furrowed, a mix of irritation and
bewilderment.

But before he could stop to re lect on the audacity of it all, the sound of
his phone ringing brought him back to the moment.
Releasing Aran’s hand, he reached for his phone. His gaze lingered on
the noti ication lashing on the screen, and his expression
transformed into something more complex, as if the emotions inside
him were stirring in a way that even he couldn’t fully decipher.
PE@CH: I have delivered the perfect opportunity.
Now it's all up to you. Good luck!
Thee pressed his lips together and shoved his phone back into his
pocket. When he looked up, Aran was already there, staring at him
nervously, his expression a mix of worry and slight fear. Something
about it tugged at his heart, easing the storm that had been brewing
inside him.
She couldn’t deny it—Aran was stunning. A man with delicate, almost
ethereal features, a slim igure that still carried a hint of muscle, and
skin so clear and smooth it practically glowed. Thee could still feel the
soft warmth of that skin from when she had held Aran’s hand earlier.
And yet, curiously, the sensation that lasted the longest was the rough
warmth of another person's hand.
“Er… have you eaten yet, Mr. Thee?” Aran’s hesitant voice broke the
silence.
His tone wavered, but there was determination in his words. “I’m
willing to answer any questions about the fall collection shoot on
Peach’s behalf. I mean, he knows most of the details, but… I’ve been
checking in often to check on the progress.” Maybe I can make up
for it, at least a little."
Theerakit looked down, his chest still tight from the lingering
irritation. What frustrated him most was that he couldn't quite
pinpoint

why he was upset. Taking a deep breath, he held back the whirlwind
swirling inside him and replied in a dry, authoritative tone.
"Get in the car."
Peach had gone to so much trouble to prepare all of this for him. The
least he could do was take advantage of the opportunity he had been
given.
Even though his mind was more tangled and confused than ever.
 ATTENTION CALL #8
A famous Japanese restaurant in the heart of the city, known not only
for its authentic
Japanese ingredients, but also for bringing in chefs directly from
renowned restaurants in Japan. They spared no effort to provide the
best dishes, which explained why each dish was priced so high that
saving up for a whole year could only get you a single serving.
Upstairs, in one of the private rooms with an open view of the river,
two men sat in the midst of an array of exquisite meals spread out on
the table. This room, notoriously dif icult to reserve, was the most
coveted spot in the restaurant.
It didn't take a genius to igure out what kind of connections were
needed to secure that room in such a short time.
However, the man who pulled the strings to secure this luxurious room
didn't seem at all interested in enjoying the ambiance of savoring the
carefully crafted dishes in front of him. Instead, his irritation was
almost palpable, making the air in the room even thicker than it
already was.
The knot of frustration in Thee’s chest, which had been growing ever
since she left the studio, hadn’t loosened one bit. She had come here
for the sole purpose of meeting this photographer. She had even had
her secretary hastily make the reservation just to make sure they
could meet today. But when she arrived, the person she had been so
bothered about barely acknowledged her existence. The guy didn’t
even spare her a glance, either…
He came closer, whispering and making nice with the director instead.

Thee told himself to calm down. At least Peach was still trying hard to
ful ill her responsibilities.
Letting out a slow, controlled breath, Thee tried to focus. There was no
point in being angry when he couldn't even identify what had upset
him in the irst place.
He needed to focus on the here and now.
“The food looks amazing,” Aran blurted out, breaking the awkward
silence with a nervous tone, every muscle in his body on alert. Not just
because of Thee, the man with whom he had a history of bad relations
– but also because Thee was the president of the company he worked
for, and, to top it off, the boss of the mob.
If it weren't for wanting to help Peach, Aran wouldn't have agreed to be
there, not in a million years.
Theerakit didn’t say a word. His tall igure was relaxed as he leaned
back with his arms crossed, his gaze ixed and impenetrable. The lack
of any visible emotion only made Aran feel more out of place.
“What a shame Peach couldn’t come…” Aran ventured, trying to make
small talk while iddling with his chopsticks. His tone became a little
brighter as he added, “Peach loves Japanese food, but I actually prefer
Thai food.”
"It seems so," Thee replied, her tone lat, but with a slight, almost
imperceptible twitch at the corner of her lips.
"Yeah, Peach doesn't like anything too spicy. He has stomach problems,
so Japanese food is perfect for him – it's pretty mild in general," Aran
said, relaxing a bit as she turned the topic to someone else. She took a
piece of tamagoyaki and popped it into her mouth,

savoring the sweet taste. Spicy food was more his style, however, and
when it came to desserts, he was a real fan of all things sweet.
"Oh, by the way, I haven't thanked you yet. Thank you for the lower
banquet... and also for the chocolates today."
Thee's eyes immediately shot up, his thick eyebrows instantly
furrowed. He looked genuinely surprised, as if he had overlooked
something important.
"Thank me? For what?"
“For the lower banquet. They were beautiful – I loved them,” Aran
clari ied, his smile fading slightly as uncertainty began to creep in. For
a moment, he wondered if someone had gossiped to him about the
bouquet that had been tossed outside earlier. Regardless, he thought
he should clear it up and show his appreciation for the gesture. “And
the chocolates you sent via Peach – thank you for those too. They
smelled amazing. Though a little bitter for my taste. Peach did enjoy
them very much, though.”
"..."
Arseny, the owner of the brand, fell silent, a strange and unfamiliar mix
of emotions gathering in his chest.
A mob boss who always got what he wanted, and was notoriously
possessive. Anything – or anyone – he considered his was guarded
iercely, sometimes to the point of irritation. Whether it was his
possessions or his people, he never failed to assert his claim.
But now, he wasn't sure what bothered him more – was it because the
model in front of him kept talking about that photographer? Or was it
because

the chocolates he had speci ically intended for someone else had
ended up being enjoyed by someone completely different?
He frowned, looking down as he tried to calm himself down. Once his
emotions were under control, he raised his eyes to meet those of the
person in front of him.
The person in front of him still managed to captivate his attention.
That stunning face—beautiful and attractive at the same time—was
exactly his type. Those lushed cheeks seemed to beg for a touch, and
those big, bright eyes kept glancing nervously at him. He found the
nervous energy endearing, almost protective in a way.
This was the person he was interested in, the same person he had set
his eyes on that day.
At this conclusion, Theerakit visibly relaxed and returned his attention
to the conversation, pushing the lingering image of the photographer's
simple, honest smile from his mind.
"How was work?" he asked casually.
“It went great! Everyone on the team is so nice,” Aran replied with a
soft smile, relaxing a bit as he noticed Theerakit continuing the
conversation. “Peach takes amazing photos too. He was guiding me
the whole time. If it wasn’t for him, the photos wouldn’t have turned
out anywhere near as good as they did.”
"Too bad you haven't seen them yet," Theerakit commented, making a
mental note to ask his assistant to track down the photos for him.
"The originals should still be with Peach. She said she needed to do
some editing irst so the art team wouldn't have so much
work. I can let him know and send them to you if you want," Aran
replied, noticing how Thee paused for a moment.
Thee paused, a spark of satisfaction crossing her sharp eyes.
Any thoughts of asking his assistant to take care of it disappeared from
his mind almost instantly.
"No need. I'll ask Peach later," he said, a slight smile playing at the
corner of his lips before quickly fading. His piercing gaze shifted to his
companion, who immediately tensed again, his eyes darting around as
if lost in thought, clearly overthinking the situation.
People always acted like that around him – nervous, a mix of
apprehension and fear. If it wasn’t that, then it was greed, those
expectant eyes hoping to get something from him. It was rare, if not
unheard of, for someone to be genuinely relaxed in his presence.
Except maybe that one photographer who always seemed immune,
especially when food was involved—then Peach's mood would turn
completely cheerful.
Theerakit froze, realizing that Peachayarat had somehow snuck back
into his thoughts, even though he had just promised himself he
wouldn't think about him anymore.
"Are you and that photographer close?"
The words were out before he could stop himself, his mind still tangled
and con licted.
Opposite him, Arseny brightened slightly at the mention of his dear
friend, though his smile still looked a little stiff and nervous.

"We're very close, actually. I think of Peach as an older brother," Arseny

said, looking down at the ish on his plate. He picked at it carefully
before continuing, "He's so kind and sweet, I honestly don't
understand how some of those women can treat him so cruelly."
Theerakit's frown deepened with each word, though he still couldn't
igure out what it was that irritated him so much. He looked down and
absentmindedly picked up the wine glass beside him, slowly moving it
between his ingers.
"How did you two meet?"
“I was feeling pretty down at the time – I had just found out that I
hadn’t been accepted into the university I wanted. Peach was there and
asked me to model for some photos. That’s how it started. If it weren’t
for him, I wouldn’t be a model today – I owe everything to him.” Aran
let out a soft chuckle, the sound tinged with genuine tenderness. For
the irst time, he felt grateful for that failed exam, a moment that
turned out to be a blessing in disguise.
"I didn't feel like going home that day, so Peach even let me stay at her
place. She's so kind, even to a stranger."
Theerakit’s hand tightened around the wine glass, his knuckles turning
pale as his brow furrowed in annoyance. It was only for a moment,
though, and as soon as he noticed her reaction, he forced himself to
relax, loosening his grip.
I couldn't lose my composure over the story that Aran had slept at that
photographer's house.
He told himself irmly, though the boiling frustration in his chest was
not easily dissipated. His sharp eyes darkened with irritation, and

He had to close them brie ly to control his emotions. When he opened

them again, his gaze was calmer, although the slight edge of annoyance
had not completely disappeared.
He inished the list of his wines before turning the conversation to
another topic.
"And that young actor? Are you two dating?"
The question made Arseny's delicate face lush red as she bit her lip
and avoided Theerakit's gaze. Her cheeks tinted a light pink, and
though she shook her head, her embarrassment was evident.
"...We're not dating," he muttered.
Theerakit’s eyes narrowed slightly as he took in the scene before him.
The image was unexpectedly captivating – the blush spreading across
Aran’s cheeks, those large eyes shining as if on the verge of tears, and
his soft lips pressed together nervously. It was a picture of innocence
and sweetness.
Blushing at another man's name... Strangely, Theerakit didn't feel upset
this time.
"So, you're telling me they're courting?" he asked, testing the waters.
Aran hesitated for a moment, but inally nodded slightly.
"In that case…" Theerakit said playfully, "If I were to make the irst
move, that would mean I still have a chance, right?"
The unexpected answer made Arseny snap his head up, his wide eyes
illed with surprise. The slight blush on his cheeks intensi ied.

until it turned into a full blush that rose to the tips of her round ears.
"W-what? Me?" Aran stammered, looking around nervously as if
searching for a way out. "That's... not right! I don't like talking to more
than one person at a time. I'd rather focus on getting to know someone
properly, step by step!"
"I don't need to talk to you – I'm just planning to court you," Theerakit
said, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms. Although his
bewildered reaction was amusing, like a frightened little animal
seeking shelter, his heart remained completely still.
It wasn’t surprising. Ever since he of icially took over as his father’s
successor, nothing had managed to shake him. He had learned the hard
way that letting anything affect his emotions could make him
vulnerable – a weakness he could never allow himself to be.
"Wait, you're going to court me without talking to me?" Arseny
repeated, blinking in confusion. "Doesn't that sound a little... weird?"
Theerakit glanced sideways at the bewildered model, then looked
down.
Arseny didn't seem thrilled with the idea, but he was too intimidated
to reject it outright.
Instead, he stammered and hesitated, which only made him seem even
more exasperated.
There was only one person who had ever dared to speak frankly to him
– that photographer.
His hand, absentmindedly toying with the wine glass, paused for a
moment. For reasons he couldn't explain, his thoughts returned to that
guy once again. Despite having the model in front of him, so
determined to win him over, his attention was diverted elsewhere.

Even stranger, the burning desire to claim the person in front of him,
the heat that normally drove him, was slowly starting to fade away. He
hadn't even kissed Aran yet, but a feeling of exhaustion was already
starting to creep in.
It wasn't something new. She'd been through countless leeting
adventures and hot nights with a succession of faces. The moment
boredom or irritation set in, her interest would disappear in the blink
of an eye.
But losing interest so quickly – before just one kiss, that was de initely
something new.
Theerakit took another slow sip of wine, letting its warmth soothe
him. Deep down, he felt strangely relieved to have come to a
conclusion.
After all, he was a mob boss, a man who lived by his own rules. He
didn't need to chase reasons for anything.
He was already tired of this model. And there was someone else –
someone much more intriguing – occupying his mind.
"How long have you been working with Peach?"
Aran blinked in surprise. His previous shyness quickly disappeared,
replaced by confusion. Just moments before, they were talking about
something completely different. He hadn’t expected the conversation
to take such a sudden turn.
"I've known Peach for about ive years," he said after a pause. "But
we've only worked together maybe four or ive times." He paused,
thinking for a moment, and the corners of his mouth lifted into a small,
sweet smile. "But if we're talking about long-term projects, this is the
irst one. The campaign with Arseny is the irst one for me."

The set, which included perfumes and accessories, was designed to be

launched in four collections, each tied to a different season. Arseny
and Tawan were the main ambassadors of the brand, alternating
campaigns throughout the four seasons. Peachayarat, a renowned
photographer, had been in charge of all the promotional shoots.
"That's ine," Theerakit replied, his sharp gaze rising to meet Arseny's.
"Eat all you want – it's on me. But I have to go."
Aran quickly bowed his head in courtesy, offering a formal farewell.
Thee gave him a curt nod, rose from her seat, and turned to give some
instructions to her men in a low voice.
Then, just as he was about to leave, he turned back to Aran, his tone
irm.
"I told my people to take you home. They'll take you back to your
condo."
"…"
"Don't ever sleep in Peach's room again."

ATTENTION CALL #9
Peach had just sent the last batch of photos to the art team at six in the
morning. With what little energy she had left, she managed to plug in
her phone charger before collapsing into bed. Wrapping herself
comfortably in a blanket, she shut off all her senses and fell into a deep
sleep almost instantly.
Spending sleepless nights before collapsing had become second nature
to him. Plus, the previous night had been peaceful. Once he managed to
deliver the model to the mob boss, he felt immense relief. His mind
cleared, ideas lowed like a dream, and before dawn, he had inished all
his work.
Peach had already igured it out – tomorrow would be his day off, and
the day after tomorrow he only had one meeting scheduled in the
afternoon. That left him with a full day and a half to himself. Sleeping
through the day and waking up at dusk seemed like a solid plan.
But barely two hours into his blissful sleep, the phone on his bedside
table began ringing shrilly, dragging him back into the conscious world
in a fog of exhaustion.
Groaning, the young photographer fumbled for the phone. When he
inally managed to answer, his voice sounded hoarse and half-awake.
[Peach, when did you send the iles? I can't ind them] came the voice of
Plub, one of her teammates – who also happened to be her younger
sister – blurred by the noise of people shouting in the background.
Without bothering to open her eyes, Peach instantly knew who it was.
Her sister and fellow art department member was brilliant at her job,
no doubt, but she had a knack for losing things. There were even times
when she misplaced iles so often that she had started keeping backup
copies with her.
Mumbling, he gave a lazy reply without even considering getting up to
check his computer.
"Check your mail. I sent them this morning."
His words were more fragmented grunts than coherent sentences, but
that didn't faze her. She was used to his half-awake ramblings and
continued the conversation without missing a beat.
[What about the behind-the-scenes photos for the magazine interview?
When will they be ready? I need to schedule the next steps.
Peach let out a long sigh. The more she talked, the more she wanted to
bury herself under her blanket and pretend the world didn't exist. "Just
open the iles, Plub."
[Huh? Wait – It’s all done already? You didn’t even sleep last night?]
"I'm sleeping now," he muttered, too tired to muster the energy to
scold her properly.
[We're having a barbecue tonight. Are you coming, Peach?]
"No".
With that, he hung up, fully aware that she had no real business with
him other than interrupting his much-needed rest. He pulled the
blanket over his head, hugged his pillow, and tried to return to his
dreams.
But just as he was about to slip back into unconsciousness, his phone
rang again.
[Peach, come on! Let's go out tonight. I want to drink.]

"I'm not going. And no more than two drinks, got it?" Peach replied,
ending the call with no patience for his antics. She threw the phone out
of reach, but the damn thing rang again almost immediately.
This time, irritation took over him. Without opening his eyes, he slid
to answer and snapped.
"Plub. I said I'm not going. I'm trying to sleep. We'll talk tonight."
He hung up before she could say another word, tossed the phone even
further away and buried himself back into his cocoon of blankets.
Sleep claimed him again, as if nothing else in the world mattered.
When Peach inally woke up, she felt as if she had been unconscious for
a century. She sat up awkwardly, each limb moving sluggishly, as if rust
had taken hold of her joints.
His room was pitch black. Heavy blackout curtains blocked out every
trace of sunlight, leaving him totally disoriented as to the time of day.
On autopilot, his hand fumbled for his phone, vaguely remembering
he’d tossed it near the headboard.
The moment his eyes fell on the screen, any traces of sleep that still
enveloped him instantly vanished.
It was already 6pm, but Peach’s phone screen was still looded with
noti ications: missed calls and unread messages had been piling up
relentlessly since 8am, with the most recent one arriving just ifteen
minutes ago. The count included almost ten missed calls and countless
texts awaiting her attention.
T: Who is Plub?
What time is your "night"?
You have ten minutes left.

Peach stared wide-eyed at the last message, sent thirty minutes ago.
Her mouth hung open as confusion swirled through her mind,
desperately trying to piece together the blurry details.
He quickly opened the call log.
The last call he had answered before falling asleep was not from Plub
calling him back to insist, but from the head of the Russian ma ia.
After hanging up that call, Peach must have put her phone on silent,
which explained why the ten missed calls that followed hadn't
disturbed her peaceful sleep.
But why the hell was he calling so early!?
Peach had no idea if Thee’s ominous ten-minute countdown was still
going on or if she had already lost her patience. Either way, panic set
in, and Peach launched herself from the bed into the bathroom. Her
haste was so frantic that she tripped over the pile of blankets on the
loor, hitting her head on the closet with an audible thud. Luckily, she
didn’t hit a sharp corner, so there was no blood. Without stopping to
lament her wounded pride, she jumped into the shower, changed into
fresh clothes, and ran out of her apartment.
Practically running, Peach made it to the elevator, pressed hard on the
button for the bottom loor, and shot out as soon as the doors opened.
He stopped dead in the condo’s lobby, leaning over with his hands on
his knees to catch his breath. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a
pair of bodyguards in black suits, tense and ready to move, before
quickly returning to their still, composed stance.
Peach's heart nearly jumped out of her chest. She almost got them to
pull out their weapons!

"Forty- ive minutes."

The cold tone of the man sitting across from him made a chill run
down Peach's spine. Once he steadied his breathing, he looked up
cautiously, feeling a tremor of unease deep within his chest.
The sight of those piercing smoky-grey eyes, ixed on him with a
mixture of disdain and icy indifference, only made his heart sink
further.
Until now, Mr. Thee had always been intimidating, of course – but
never had the atmosphere been so sti ling.
“I’m sorry,” Peach muttered, lowering his gaze as he bowed his head
respectfully. Deep down, though, a part of him still grumbled. Was this
really my fault? Still, with this capricious mobster having waited forty-
ive minutes for him, Peach igured apologizing was the least he could
do.
The silence that followed was deafening, leaving Peach increasingly
nervous. She took a quick glance up, only to be met with Thee’s
unrelenting gaze. The longer Thee remained silent, the harder it
became to breathe.
After what seemed like an eternity, Thee’s hand moved, Peach
instinctively squeezing her eyes shut, heart pounding as she braced
herself. Is she going to hit me? Instead, warm ingertips brushed
against her forehead, cradling her head gently. The pad of Thee’s
thumb pressed lightly against the center of Peach’s forehead, a touch
so unexpectedly tender it left him momentarily stunned.
"Who did this?" Thee's voice, casual, but with a steely tone, made
Peach shiver again. Her bodyguards, who had been silently watching
from the sidelines, visibly tensed, the hairs on their arms standing up.
But Peach couldn't see any of that. All that
What I knew was that Thee's voice had softened slightly, and the
oppressive tension seemed to have dissipated enough that she could
breathe again.
"I ran to my wardrobe like an idiot. But it's your fault for rushing me
like that!"
Since you were no longer glaring daggers at him, Peach felt a bit of his
courage return. He decided to plead his case. “I didn’t get to sleep until
six thirty this morning, and before that, my phone kept ringing off the
hook. I thought your call was from a member of my team, so I just
silenced it.”
"Who is Plub?"
The completely unrelated question left Peach perplexed.
But with Thee’s irm ingers holding him down and his face squeezed
shut, Peach couldn’t even lift his head enough to see the man’s
expression. His line of vision was stuck frustratingly low, making the
whole situation seem even more oppressive.
“Plub is my little sister. She’s part of the Arseny brand art team.” He
couldn’t help but feel a pang of worry – would Thee think he’d pulled
strings to get where he was?
"She's been working on Arseny for a long time. She's very talented, I
promise. As for me, I just did some freelance work for the brand. When
this project came up, Plub invited me to join the meeting with her. I
swear I didn't use any connections to get involved."
The air was illed with silence, save for the gentle, rhythmic pressure of
Thee's thumb lightly brushing her forehead. Peach felt as if she was

standing on the gallows, silently praying for mercy. Please let it be

reasonable , she pleaded inwardly. Finally, as if her call had been heard,
Theerakit loosened his grip and let her hand slowly fall.
Peach, who had been slightly hunched over throughout the entire test,
straightened up and took a deep breath. Her heart, which had been
hammering in her chest, began to slow down. It seemed like she had
been acquitted!
"So, is there a reason you came to see me today?" she asked tentatively,
still testing the waters. The idea reminded her of a certain young
model, and Peach couldn't help but wonder if Thee's bad mood was a
consequence of a failed date.
He sighed inwardly. With Theerakit’s unpredictable behavior and
Aran’s meddling tendencies, trusting someone seemed like a gamble
these days.
"It's just boring."
"…"
Peach blinked and frowned instinctively before he could stop himself.
For a moment, he was completely lost.
Last time, Mr. Thee had said he wanted it so badly he'd practically
dragged him into bed. That hadn't even been a week ago! Peach had
gone out of her way to arrange a nice dinner date, only for them to
show up now and casually declare he was bored.
He rubbed his temples, feeling exasperated. Was this what people
meant when they called someone a "rich kid with too many toys"?

They got bored and put things aside, just like that. It didn't even seem
like Aran had reached the "toy" status yet.
Of course, Peach didn't want his junior model friend to end up as a
disposable toy. If there was ever a chance for a relationship to
blossom, he wanted it to become something real and genuine.
Especially when that clingy Tawan boy kept hanging around and not
making anything clear.
Someone needs to take a stand and ix things soon.
"What do you mean boring? Did something happen? Did Aran do
something that upset you?"
He was really worried about the younger model. If Aran had somehow
managed to anger the mob in front of him, that would ensure that he
would come out of this encounter in one piece.
“I’m just bored.” Theerakit shrugged, a slight look of irritation crossing
his sharp features before he waved a dismissive hand.
"It's time for dinner"
With that, the mob stood up from the couch, turned on his heels, and
strode out of the condo, not bothering to wait for Peach. The
photographer blinked, completely bewildered. What does that mean?
Do you mean you're going to have dinner without me? Or do you mean
we're going to eat? together?
Peachayarat, the photographer, knew very well that his name was not
Aran nor did he have a career as a model, he hesitated only a moment
before deciding to return to his room. He turned on his heels and took
just one step before the

Black-clad bodyguards lanking the room grabbed him by the arms,

lifted him off the ground and spun him around to face the mob, who
now stood with their arms crossed.
staring at him with an intensity that could burn a hole through steel.
“Where do you think you’re going?” The mob’s icy tone sent a chill
down Peach’s spine. The bodyguards’ tight grips kept him suspended
in the air, and he didn’t dare utter even a single complaint.
"Back to my room, obviously. I didn't bring anything with me." I didn't
see the point in ighting. Have you seen the muscles on these guys?
One punch from any of them and he'd wake up in a hospital bed.
"No need. It's all up to me."
"When exactly did we agree to have dinner together?"
Peach blinked a few times, completely bewildered, her confusion only
increased by her growing hunger. The moment the words left her
mouth, she realized she had made a mistake. Ti's gaze grew icier,
practically freezing him in place. Struggling to ix the situation, Peach
forced a nervous smile, awkwardly looking away.
He wanted to ask: did you really say something about dinner? but the
weight of Thee's cold gaze was enough to keep him silent.
Calm down, Peach. You're not Aran. Don't push your luck unless you want
to. get into trouble .
"Mr. Thee, I already have plans with my sister tonight." Peach said
irmly. "I can't go with you."
"I heard you tell him you weren't going."

"Even so, I'm still worried about her. She's planning to go drinking and,
as her brother, I want to pick her up later," Peach insisted, this time
with more conviction. Her sister always came irst – there was no
room for compromise when it came to her safety.
"We'll eat irst and then you can pick her up."
Without waiting for a reply, he turned around and got into the car.
Peach, who had nothing but his phone, found himself pushed forward
by the bodyguards. A few steps further, he was unceremoniously
shoved into the car, right next to the mob.
I thought I had handed this whole mess over to Aran. How the hell did it
end up? on my lap?

ATTENTION CALL #10

"What are you in the mood for?"
The moment Peach closed the car door, Thee, already sitting beside
her, casually asked the question. Her eyes, however, remained ixed on
the tablet on her lap, scanning some documents. Peach blinked in
surprise.
It was not like Theerakit to ask anyone's opinion.
Usually, he just did what he wanted without thinking twice.
"It's all good with me," Peach replied, tossing the ball back into Thee's
court. He wasn't a picky eater, and honestly, under the pressure of this
guy's presence, his brain wasn't working well enough to think of
anything speci ic.
"Then we will head to the restaurant at the hotel downtown."
Peach's stomach dropped the moment she heard him. Her eyes quickly
darted to his current attire - an old white t-shirt, jeans, and sandals. A
place like this would never let him in dressed like that.
But could you blame him? It wasn't like he had much time to get ready.
He'd just put on whatever was closest to him and didn't think twice.
At least he wasn't in his pajamas yet.
"Mr. Thee, I don't think they'll let me in dressed like that," he said
cautiously.
He inally looked up from his tablet. He raised an eyebrow, as if silently
asking. Why didn't they let him in?
"You are with me. Who will stop you from entering?"

Peach fought the urge to roll her eyes. Great, here we go again with the
big ish routine!
"I'm not saying they won't let me in. I'm saying it doesn't look good. It's
disrespectful to the place," he tried to explain.
Being a photographer meant that Peach had attended her fair share of
fancy dinners and high-pro ile events. Exclusive restaurants like this
often had dress codes for a reason – respect for the venue and the
other guests. Showing up in her wrinkled t-shirt and jeans wasn’t
exactly appropriate.
“No need to overthink it. I’ve booked a private room.” She closed her
iPad, crossed her arms, and turned to him with a serious expression,
clearly ready to argue her point. Peach couldn’t help but laugh
internally.
Sometimes this mob boss acts like a stubborn child.
Peach froze for a second as that thought hit him. What was he doing,
risking his life by inding this boy adorable? This wasn’t just anyone –
this was an arms dealer with armed bodyguards and enough irepower
to level a building. Had he completely lost his mind?
She shook her head slightly, trying to chase away the ridiculous
thought, and forced herself to focus. "This isn't about the private room,
Thee. Walking into a place like that dressed like that?" It's
disrespectful. Show respect for the place.
"I can buy the whole restaurant!"
Oh, please understand my point!

Peach resisted the urge to pull out her own hair. Clearly, trying to
explain this was a lost cause. How could Thee understand if she
believed money could ix absolutely everything?
"I'm not going," Peach said irmly, abandoning the idea of reasoning
altogether. The way Thee operated, there was no way she would ever
understand.
The mob boss’s eyebrows instantly furrowed, his displeasure radiating
so strongly that Peach could almost see it. He was calculating
something – probably trying to come up with an alternative.
Peach realized she needed a distraction, something to change the
conversation, fast. Out of nowhere, a memory of her little sister's
words popped into her head.
"How about we go for Moo Kata instead?"
As soon as the words left her mouth, Peach regretted them. What the
hell was she saying? Moo Kata? To the mob, sitting there in a tailored
suit that probably cost more than her entire life savings? She must
have lost her mind.
In her mind, she began praying to God, silently begging for a quick and
painless end.
The more Thee frowned, the more Peach wanted to disappear into the
car seat. Discomfort washed over him, wishing he could sink into the
upholstery and disappear.
Thee rubbed his chin lightly with his knuckles, deep in thought. Then,
to Peach's utter surprise, Thee nodded and said something that felt
like it shattered her world at that very moment.

"Moo Kata is ine, then."

Wait, what? Seriously?

In the end, Peach didn't have the courage to drag a mob boss to the
kind of roadside barbecue joint he and his sister frequented. After a
lengthy negotiation that lasted nearly ten minutes, they reached a
compromise and ended up at a high-end barbecue restaurant. It wasn't
exactly what Peach had imagined, but at least it wasn't a ive-star
establishment.
The restaurant, located in the heart of a shopping mall, had a warm
and welcoming atmosphere with wooden decorations. Thanks to its
exorbitant prices, it wasn’t crowded. A quick glance around con irmed
Peach’s suspicion – most of the customers seemed to have wallets fat
enough to solve their problems the same way the mob did: by
throwing money at them.
Thee’s bodyguards had spread out, blending seamlessly with the other
patrons. It wasn’t unusual for the afternoon crowd to include diners in
summer attire enjoying a meal in such an elegant venue. Meanwhile,
Thee led the way as they made their way deeper into the restaurant,
slipping behind a curtain and climbing a staircase to one of the private
rooms on the upper loor.
Only two people followed them into the restaurant, both familiar faces
who were frequently in the same car as Mr. Thee.
Thee's secretary-compliment opened the door to a room. Peach
nodded politely and gave the man a small, friendly smile. It at least
helped calm his nerves until the door closed behind him, leaving him
alone once again with Mr. Thee.
That smile… was it supposed to be encouragement before sending me
to war?

Peach let out a quiet sigh as she slid into the seat across from the
young mob boss without protest. Thee tossed her the menu before
immediately diving into her iPad, completely uninterested in what
Peach might order.
If I maxed out the bill by ordering every expensive item on the menu, I
wouldn't have right to complain later.
Peach thought to himself with a hint of mischief. Then he sighed again,
this time with slight amusement. The Arseny empire was swimming in
wealth. Even if he ordered the most expensive items on the menu, it
wouldn't make a dent.
– probably less than a quarter of its quarterly earnings.
"Is there anything special you'd like to eat?" Peach asked, holding up
the menu as she nervously pressed her lips together and cast a wary
glance at Thee.
He was starving. He wanted to order everything! But with the host
acting so indifferent, he didn't dare make a move.
"Just ask, I'll eat anything."
As soon as he got Thee’s blessing, Peach’s face lit up with a smile. He
opened the menu without a hint of hesitation. He was famished, and
since Thee was the one who dragged him here – and had explicitly
offered to treat him – he was going to eat to his heart’s content.
Peach ended up pointing out nearly ten plates of premium cuts of
meat, not counting all the sides she added for good measure. The
whole time, the young mobster remained glued to his iPad, not sparing
her a single glance.
Peach didn't mind, though. Many of her friends worked while they ate
together – being an adult comes with responsibilities. Besides, he
wasn't so special that Thee had to pause her work just to tend to him.
This is terrifying!
Swallowing hard, Peach felt a shiver of fear run through him. His wrist
throbbed under Thee’s iron grip, and his eyes burned with unshed
tears. But he didn’t dare pull his hand away. His hand trembled slightly,
forcing him to tense his muscles to keep from shaking too much. All he
could do was bite his lower lip, trying to keep himself composed.
Peach had grown too comfortable. He had forgotten Thee's true
nature, lulled by the rare moments of indulgence. He was a mob boss
through and through.
“I’m sorry. I grilled you some meat and I thought I’d change your dish
since you seemed busy with work and hadn’t eaten yet.” She forced a
shaky smile, even as her wrist began to go numb. Judging by the
tingling, her blood low was probably being cut off.
Theerakit froze for a moment, his gaze shifting to the table.
Sure enough, Peach's hand had been reaching for an empty plate.
Beside it was another plate neatly stacked with perfectly grilled slices
of meat, not to mention the cubes of steak still sizzling on the grill,
releasing an irresistible aroma.
After a moment, the mobster's eyes returned to Peach.
Slowly, almost reluctantly, he loosened his grip on her wrist. Peach,
who had been holding on to her faint smile for dear life, immediately
slid the clean plate in front of Thee, took the empty one, and quickly
retreated to her seat.
Peach let out a silent sigh, glancing down at her hands, which were still
shaking slightly. Her pale wrist bore red, irritated marks, the clear
impression of Thee's grip.

He clenched and unclenched his ists several times, trying to shake off
the lingering tension and steady his nerves. With a shaky breath, he
turned his attention back to the grill.
The tight knot of fear in her chest hadn't completely undone, so she
focused on her food, eating in silence without uttering a word.
He didn’t look at Thee directly, but from the corner of his eye, he
noticed the mob boss putting away his iPad; Thee’s hand moved to
pick up a pair of chopsticks instead. His ingers were long, strong, and
precise; no wonder his grip had left such vivid marks.
"I wasn't angry with you."
Thee’s voice was softer now, but Peach only gave her a faint smile and
a soft hum of acknowledgement, keeping her head down. She held her
chopsticks, a little tighter to keep her hands from shaking. Out of
nowhere, her appetite seemed to fade, despite how hungry she had
been just a few minutes before.
He shouldn't have come.
Peach forced herself to take a piece of meat and pop it into her mouth.
The rich, buttery lavor of the tender beef melted on her tongue, a
delicacy she rarely had the chance to enjoy.
She should take advantage of this, she thought.
Who knows? This might be the last fancy meal I ever have.
"How did you know what I wanted to eat?"
The question came out of nowhere, soft enough to sound like Thee was
talking to himself. But in the room almost

quiet, where the only other noise was the soft crackle of coals, Peach
heard her clear and crisp.
His body tensed. He couldn't tell if the question was a compliment or a
criticism.
"I just noticed things. Last time, you ordered a medium rare steak. And
since it's already late, I thought too much greasy food might upset
your stomach." He hesitated, suddenly unsure of himself. "If I was
wrong, I'm sorry."
Thee didn't reply, he simply picked up a piece of meat and ate it
without saying a word. Peach didn't press for an answer. Instead, he
focused on the grill in front of him, though he couldn't help but
continue to place perfectly grilled pieces of meat on Thee's plate from
time to time.
But one thing was certain – he avoided making eye contact with Thee
entirely.
He realized that he had let his guard down too much.
Even though Thee seemed calm and perhaps even kind at times, it
didn't change the fact that he was still a mob boss.
…And Peach wasn’t Aran – the person Thee had fallen in love with.
If he forgot that next time, it could cost him his life.

ATTENTION CALL #11

He had never been ignored by anyone before. Sitting cross-legged in
the car, his iPad open to a document in his hand, he couldn’t focus on a
single word. Everything around him was silent, too silent – in fact. No
distractions. Nothing at all to break the silence.
It was too quiet.
She glanced at the young photographer sitting next to her. Ever since
they left the restaurant, Peach had been unusually quiet, avoiding eye
contact and walking away. Even now, as they sat together in the car,
there was only this oppressive silence between them.
Normally, Peach wasn't much of a talker either. When they shared trips
like this, silence was a given. But back then, Peach's presence felt...
warm. Like sitting under a big tree on a sunny day – quiet, safe, yet
peaceful and relaxing.
However, this time it was not like that. This silence was not warm or
comfortable. It was suffocating, and Thee disliked it.
She stole another glance at Peach’s face. Objectively, he was handsome,
perhaps not the type to turn heads in a crowd, but his appearance was
undeniably pleasing – fair skin, slightly narrow, almond-shaped eyes,
always shining with a soft glint.
Thee had always liked those eyes.
He liked the way they re lected him, as if he could see himself clearly
within them.
But now? There wasn't even a shadow of him left in those eyes.

The mob boss let his gaze drift down to Peach’s slender shoulders
before stopping at her wrist. The red marks stood out vividly, the
shape of Thee’s ingers still visible. Peach’s pale skin made the bruises
even more apparent, almost startling.
Thee pressed her lips together, suddenly feeling like she had to say
something.
Thee turned his gaze back to the iPad in his hand, but try as he might,
he still couldn't focus on the document in front of him. His thoughts
kept returning to Peach.
It wasn't long before the car stopped. It seemed like they had arrived at
the place Peach had mentioned earlier.
Thee had offered to drop him off, but Peach had declined, saying she
needed to pick up her sister's car and didn't want to be a bother.
A nuisance? Thee had offered! People were practically begging for the
chance to travel with him, and this guy turned it down?
“I appreciate the ride. Thank you, Mr. Mok,” Peach said, slightly bowing
her head towards Thee before lashing a faint smile at Mok, Thee’s
bodyguard-slash-secretary, who was also functioning as her driver
that night. Thee’s brow instantly furrowed as she saw Mok smiling
back at Peach through the rearview mirror. She opened her mouth to
say something, but before she could utter a word, Peach had already
opened the door and stepped out.
Thee watched as Peach closed the door and entered the shop. She
didn't look away until she saw Peach disappear inside. Only then did
she nod to Mok to leave.

For the fourth time, his eyes scanned the same line of text on the iPad
without registering a single word. Frustrated, he snapped the device
shut and crossed his arms, ixing Mok with a sharp gaze that could cut
glass.
"How long have you two been friends?"
His voice was calm, almost eerily so, but the icy tone could make a
lesser man crumble to the ground in panic.
Mok, however, was used to this kind of mood from his boss. Still, he
couldn't help but tense his shoulders slightly, choosing his words with
special care.
"We are not friends, sir. We have met twice," Mok said calmly before
adding, "Mr. Peach has a good memory for faces.
He mentioned that I gave him a ride once before and he wanted to
thank me for that."
Thee's gaze dropped, and she didn't press any further. She already
knew that Peach had a way of being effortlessly friendly with people.
The guy was easy to talk to, quick to smile, and always seemed to have
this natural instinct to care for others.
Thee pressed her lips together, unable to help but think of the dinner
earlier. It was the irst time someone genuinely cared about whether or
not she had eaten. Even though Peach was upset, she still roasted the
meat and put it on Thee’s plate, as if she knew somehow that Thee
wasn’t used to making such things for himself.
Many people were willing to please him, but Peach's actions felt so
natural. To one, it didn't make him feel annoyed or uncomfortable.
That was new.

Her thoughts returned to the red marks on Peach's wrist, clear and
angry against her pale skin. Thee frowned, irritation bubbling up
again.
"Send her some ointment for bruises tonight," he said, his tone casual,
almost detached. "And make sure someone delivers it in person."
Mok responded with a silent acknowledgement, no longer surprised by
Thee’s occasional lashes of unusual kindness. The secretary decided
to commit this moment to memory. Peach might not have any of icial
status in Thee’s life yet, and the air between them today had been
thick with unspoken tension, but Mok was sure of one thing – this
photograph would become someone important to him.
He thought it might be wise to start preparing to welcome a future
"boss" into their lives.
Peach followed the pin her sister had sent, arriving at the bar-
restaurant she had mentioned. The place had a rooftop barbecue area
on the second loor, with live music from the lower level echoing out to
the outdoor space above. She headed straight up, scanning the area
until she spotted her right away. Her sister was small, barely reaching
her shoulder, with a slim frame dressed in an oversized shirt and tight
pants.
Her hair had bright red highlights that sparkled under the lights, and
her face, dotted with light freckles, was framed by large, round, silver
glasses.
Her look was a chaotic mix of styles, but somehow, she made it work.
Plus, it suited her, considering she had graduated from a ine arts
program and now worked in an art department.

"Are you drunk, Plub?" she asked, planting a hand on her hip and
narrowing her eyes suspiciously. Plub smiled at her, his smile so wide
it nearly closed her eyes, and raised his glass to show her.
"Two beers on tap. Do you think that's enough to get me drunk?"
He joked, drawing out his words in a playful tone. He chuckled,
exchanging greetings with his sister's coworkers in a relaxed manner.
They all moved to make room for him to sit, as if it were the most
natural thing in the world.
It wasn’t the irst time she’d come to pick Plub up. With just the two of
them in the family, it was only natural for him to be protective. Still,
they’d learned to give each other enough space so they didn’t feel
overwhelmed. But one rule had always remained unspoken – whenever
Plub went out drinking, whether she was slightly drunk or completely
sober, even if it was just one drink – she’d ask him to pick her up, and
he never said no. Not once. He’d also worked with Plub’s seamstress
many times before, helping out with small tasks so often that he was
practically an honorary member of their group’s backup.
"So, what's the celebration tonight?" he asked, declining a drink
offered to him by one of his coworkers.
He had to take Plub home, and there was no way he was going to risk it
with alcohol in his system.
"Nuch's leaving," Plub replied, his plate full of food as he plopped down
beside her, squeezing into the tight space. He pushed the plate into
their hands. "We'll probably stay a little longer. You should eat
something, Peach. Don't tell me you just woke up. I told you to stop
staying up late, didn't I?"
Peach, still full from the expensive roast earlier, shook his head and
refused the food. His sister looked at him suspiciously.

"Have you eaten yet? What did you eat? If you tell me it was instant
noodles again, I swear I'll slap you."
He blinked at her, internally struggling to ind an answer.
If he admitted to eating roast beef, he would never leave him alone.
Plub knew he rarely left the house, let alone went out alone for
something as indulgent as a roast meal.
But the alternative wasn't much better. If he said he'd gone with
someone, she'd want to know who, and letting the mob name slip
would only open up a new problem.
The young man hesitated for a moment before forcing a dry smile and
dodging the question entirely. Instead, he quickly changed the subject.
"So why is Nuch leaving?"
She was referring to the project leader, someone she had worked with
three out of four times before. Nuch was brilliant – she made good
decisions, had strong leadership, and always looked after her team.
Everyone who had the opportunity to work on a project with her was
thrilled.
"She's pregnant and wants to focus on preparing for the baby."
Plub replied, accepting the change of topic without much fuss. "At irst,
Nuch wasn't even going to take on the ' All Seasons: One' project." Word
," you know? But after you helped brainstorm the concept, she decided
to go for it. And now that the fall collection turned out so well, she feels
safe letting things go and just quit."
“All Seasons: One Word” project – a massive campaign pairing perfume
with matching jewelry – was massive. It included four seasonal mini-
ad campaigns, and the main advertising strategy, concept, and even
storyboard drafts? All of it.

Honestly, he was just messing around at the time. He had inished all
his other work and had nothing else on his plate when Nuch presented
the project. Chatting casually with Plub, ideas started to low, and he
developed the concept for fun.
I didn't expect him to actually bring it to the meeting, let alone have
the team approve it!
"So, who's going to take over the team now?" he asked, opening the can
of Coke Plub had passed him and taking a sip. His mind ran through a
list of people he knew who could take over the leadership.
A change in leadership sometimes meant a change in the dynamics of
the entire team – or worse, a complete overhaul of the project
direction.
"I have no idea yet. I'm curious too." Plub said casually, craning his
neck to look around before enthusiastically greeting someone. "Nuch!
Peach is here!"
Peach tapped her sister on the forehead, reprimanding her casual way
of calling out to her superior, before quickly standing up to greet
Nucharin.
Nuch was tall and elegant, dressed in tight trousers that emphasised
her long legs, complemented by a short crop top under a itted blazer.
Her pixie cut was perfectly styled, giving her a chic and bold look that
turned heads.
Who would have thought that she was already a mother-to-be three
months into her pregnancy?
"Congratulations, Nuch," Peach greeted her with a warm smile, brie ly
glancing at her abdomen. With her pregnancy still in its early stages,
there weren't many visible changes, but she couldn't help but feel
excited.

"Thank you, Peach. But don't forget that this isn't just a farewell party
for me – it's also a thank you party." She smiled widely, beaming,
clearly in good spirits, before clapping him on the shoulder a couple of
times. "The campaign turned out amazing as always.
The feedback has been fantastic!
"Is he up for promotion yet?" he asked, rubbing his shoulder
re lexively. Nach always had a heavy hand. He couldn't help but wonder
how his son would feel if he ever misbehaved and received a
reprimanding spanking.
Although, perhaps she would be condescending. At least Plub had
never been on the receiving end of such pats on the shoulder.
"The irst promotional images for the fall collection have just been
released. The response has been phenomenal. We're inishing up the
ad shoot tomorrow, and after some inishing touches, everything
should be ready to launch right away."
"That's great to hear," Peach replied in a calm tone of voice.
As the person behind the concept, hearing such positive feedback
always gave him a sense of pride. "By the way, do you know who will
take the lead of the team?"
The moment he asked, the atmosphere around Nuch changed.
It was as if a cloud had suddenly descended upon her usual gentle
demeanor. She took his arm and led him away from the table, her voice
lowered to almost a whisper.
"The new team leader hasn't been of icially announced yet. They're
still inalizing it at the higher-ups' meeting. Tomorrow's team meeting
is when they'll make the announcement. You should be there too." She
paused, looking so uncomfortable that Peach felt compelled to offer
her a reassuring smile.

"Don't worry, Nuch. You don't have to tell me now. I'll just show up
tomorrow and ind out with Plub in the meeting room."
Although Peach had taken it lightly, her soon-to-be ex-boss had a
serious expression. "I've heard some things," Nuch admitted quietly.
"I've tried to hold on, I really have. But I'm afraid the odds are not in my
favor."
Peach frowned, now genuinely curious. Nuch was the type of person
who got along with everyone. So, anyone she actively antagonized to
the point of being visibly worried had to be a big problem. She pursed
her lips together, clearly uncomfortable, before patting him on the
shoulder a couple of times and speaking in a low, reassuring voice.
"Just be prepared, okay? But don't overthink it. You're the most
talented person I know. Seriously."
With that, she let out another long sigh and told him to go back to
enjoying the party. Her expression turned into a cheerful smile and she
joined the others without any trouble, chatting and laughing as if
nothing had happened.
Meanwhile, Peach stood there with a mountain of questions weighing
down on him, wondering if he would even be able to sleep tonight.
The more she tried to comfort him, the more uncomfortable she felt. If
she wanted to calm him down, she should have told him the truth. At
least then he would know what to expect.
Peach sighed heavily, one name in particular popping into her mind.
She ran a hand through her hair in frustration.
What kind of rotten luck was it today, anyway?
 ATTENTION CALL #12
Peach was too restless to sleep that night – not from excitement, but
from pure anxiety that made his head throb.
After the party, she stayed by Plub's side, making sure her little sister
didn't get too drunk, not mentioning a single word about her
conversation with Nuch. Around 11pm, she gently nudged her and
suggested they go back home. Plub, ever the carefree one, waved
goodbye and left without making a fuss.
Although they lived in separate condos, Plub had chosen one closer to
his of ice to avoid the city’s infamous traf ic, while Peach preferred a
place near the BTS station to have lexibility in her freelance work.
Despite living separately, they had each other’s keys and access cards –
in case of emergency.
After parking his car underneath her building, he walked up with Plub
to her unit, made sure he got in safely, and handed her back her keys.
With one last farewell, he headed back down, ready to call a cab home.
But the moment his foot touched the last step outside the condo’s
entrance, a sleek black car smoothly stopped right in front of him.
Peach blinked, paralyzed for a second, before instinctively taking three
or four large steps back, heart pounding in suspicion. Was this some
squad of ma ia hats sent to take him down after what happened? Just
then, the driver's side window rolled down, revealing a familiar face
with a wide, friendly smile.
"Mr. Mok?" Peach greeted the secretary she had met earlier that night,
still bewildered. Then it occurred to her – Mok worked for that

mob boss Arseny. Peach took another two giant steps back without
thinking, causing Mok to laugh in amusement despite himself.
He couldn't decide whether to praise Peach for her impressive re lexes
or be exasperated that his boss had scared the poor photographer
enough to make him consider running away on the spot.
"Good evening, Mr. Peach. Heading back to your condo?" The young
secretary decided to crack a small, disarming smile, hoping to ease the
tension radiating from the photographer. Peach's shoulders relaxed a
little, though suspicion still clouded her eyes.
"Yeah... Just passing through?"
He asked cautiously, silently praying that Mok would say it was a
coincidence, just a friendly greeting. Too bad the secretary's smile
widened, and his next words landed like a punch to the gut.
“No, sir. My boss sent me to ind you.” Peach turned pale in an instant,
feeling dizzy. He could already imagine himself being dragged into that
sleek black car if he didn’t move now. The thought sent a fresh wave of
panic through him. He inhaled sharply, forcing himself to stay
conscious. Passing out wasn’t an option. “Why are you looking for me?”
“Are you still angry about what happened earlier?” Peach ired off the
questions, her voice growing more frantic with each second, “Mr. Mok,
please let me go! I swear I won’t go near him ever again!”
Mok watched Peach's growing anxiety and couldn't help but sigh
inwardly. He quickly raised both hands in a non-threatening gesture.
Thank God he had come in person instead of sending someone else;
overtime pay be damned. If things got any worse, he would be the one
in serious trouble.

“Please calm down, Mister Peach. I’m not here to hurt you,” Mok said
hurriedly, his voice soothing but irm. Seeing Peach practically ready to
run away, he did his best to shrink his ample frame, trying to look as
harmless as possible. “Please don’t run. If you do, I’m dead. I beg you –
don’t make this any harder on me.”
Peach looked at the imposing bodyguard, who now looked half
desperate, half pleading. She couldn't help but let out a small, tired
sigh. Back to work. Mok was always so stiff and formal around Mr.
Thee. Peach never imagined the guy could be... well, like that.
However, the exaggerated pleading worked – it calmed him down, if
only a little.
Peach's smile softened slightly. She cautiously approached the car, but
didn't let her guard down completely.
"So... why exactly did your boss send you to pick me up?"
"I was worried about you coming home alone so late," Mok replied
softly, his expression serious as he worked to rack up points for his
boss. Every word out of his mouth had been
"revised" thoroughly from the original message I had received. "He
asked me to take it home and also sent this bruise cream as an
apology."
Peach raised an eyebrow, her lips curving into a slightly wider smile. Of
course, she didn't believe a word of it.
Worried? That's amazing. Apologize? Not in this lifetime.
By no means!

However, he didn't draw attention to Mok's obvious lies. Instead, he

simply smiled weakly, already calculating how much money he would
save on the taxi fare. Since The Boss wasn't in the car, it seemed safe
enough... for now. With that, he opened the passenger door and slid
into the seat without any further fuss.
The silence inside the car was deafening, broken only by the constant
hum of the air conditioning. Peach sat rigidly, pressed against the door
as if ready to open it at the irst sign of trouble. Meanwhile, the young
secretary debated whether to lock the doors, but worried that she
might. The last thing she needed was for the photographer to panic
and think he was being kidnapped. So she settled for driving as
carefully as possible, maintaining a moderate speed the whole way.
When the car inally pulled to a stop at the curb in front of Peach’s
condo, he practically jumped out, eager to escape. But just as he was
about to close the door, something tugged at his consciousness. He
hesitated, then turned around to bow his head politely in thanks.
Before Peach could leave, Mok reached into the console and pulled out
an expensive tube of bruise cream, handing it to her with a sheepish
smile.
Peach hesitated, tempted to refuse, but Mok's expression was so
sincerely apologetic that she sighed inwardly and accepted.
"I know I exaggerated a bit about my boss," Mok admitted with a rueful
smile, clearly aware that his earlier story was way over the top. He
wanted to help him gain some points. But guessing that whoever was
listening to this was too smart to fall for any of that stuff.

Honesty like that was hard to ind.

"But it's true that Mr. Thee told me to make sure you got home safely,"
Mok added seriously. "And the part about getting the cream for the
bruises... that was his order too."
Peach looked down, her thoughts spinning in a chaotic whirl.
He had always thought that the intimidating mob boss couldn't
possibly care less about someone like him – someone small and
insigni icant. Thee seemed like the kind of man it would be wise to
stay away from at all costs.
But that worried look Thee thought he'd hidden on the ride. Peach had
noticed. He wasn't blind to it.
"Mr. Thee might look scary, but he's not a bad person."
Peach slowly raised her head, her lips curving into a faint smile. It
wasn't as bright as before, but the heaviness in her eyes had eased a
little.
Now he had an answer – one just for him.
"I don't hate him," Peach said with a shrug, her shoulders relaxing at
last. "But if you ask me if I'm afraid of him... yes, I am."
"We only got into a tangle because of the Aran situation. From what I
can tell, things seem to be resolved now. There's no reason for us to
meet again."
He gave Mok a polite nod, a silent farewell, before turning and heading
back to his apartment. Though he had slept most of the day, the
moment he closed the door to his home, an overwhelming wave of
exhaustion washed over him. Perhaps it was the sheer number of
stressful surprises he had faced today – or how tense he had been the
entire time. His body inally demanded rest.

She sat heavily on the edge of her bed, letting out a long, tired sigh.
Mok’s words still echoed faintly in her mind. And every now and then,
she couldn’t help but imagine that tall, stern-faced man with his
piercing eyes – so intense, so intimidating.
No matter how many times they met, Thee would always be terrifying.
Too much, too intense, too much everything. But… at the same time,
Peach couldn’t deny that Thee had softened towards him more than he
ever expected. She had softened just enough that Peach could
momentarily let down her guard… just enough to wonder if they could
ever be friends.
Don't be ridiculous. A dangerous beast could never be friends with a
timid and defenseless rabbit.
Deciding to shake off the tangle of thoughts, Peach stood up and
headed to the shower. After changing into an old, baggy t-shirt and a
pair of comfy shorts, she inally lopped down onto her bed.
Her eyes drifted to the small tube of bruise cream on the
nightstand...and stayed there longer than she'd planned.
The bruise cream was from a premium brand—not overly expensive,
but de initely more expensive than what you ind at your average
drugstore. Peach rolled the tube between her ingers, then inally
squeezed some onto her wrist. She gently massaged the cool, soothing
cream into her skin until it disappeared.
Satis ied, he grimaced at the tube.
Okay, I'll use it... but that doesn't mean I've forgiven him.
The thought made him laugh. He knew perfectly well that Thee
wouldn't care if he was still angry or not. And really, his decision to
keep some of it

distance wasn’t about holding a grudge. With that settled in her mind,
Peach snuggled into her blanket, hoping to get a decent night’s sleep.
But the words of his former boss – stern and full of
warnings – resonated tirelessly in his head.
He spent the night tossing and turning, drifting in and out of restless
sleep. In the morning, he inally dragged himself out of bed, dazed and
disheveled, his hair a hopeless mess. His head ached, forcing him to
rub his temples with a grimace.
Grabbing her phone, she placed a quick coffee order at the cafe
downstairs, then stumbled into the bathroom to freshen up. After a
inal check of her things, she locked her apartment and went
downstairs to pick up her drink before heading straight to the Arseny
Group of ice.
Once she parked and got inside, she took the elevator to a familiar
loor. She had worked on several projects with her former team leader,
Nuch, and they always used the same meeting room. Nuch managed
four sub-teams and often juggled two major projects at once, which
meant Peach had spent countless hours there. By now, most of the
staff recognized him on sight.
Peach pushed open the door to the meeting room and saw only a few
people inside. Relieved, he quickly found a seat next to his younger
sister, Plub. Seeing him enter alone with a cup of coffee, she sighed
dramatically and rummaged through her bag. It was almost an hour
before the door inally opened, revealing Nuch – who looked decidedly
disgruntled.
Peach wasn't surprised. Nuch was never late. Something must have
happened to throw her off schedule, and knowing her, she was
probably still upset about it.

The meeting started with a quick update on the project. It seemed that
the fall collection was almost ready – only the inal editing phase for
the promotional materials remained.
Nuch nodded in satisfaction, glad that everything was progressing
according to schedule. Then, she straightened up, her expression
changing to something more serious, even a little uncomfortable.
Finally, she spoke about the last item on the agenda.
“Today will be my last day working here.” Her voice was irm, though
there was a slight bittersweet smile on her lips. “I want to say how
proud I am of each and every one of you. I have managed four sub-
teams, and this team has always delivered the best results. Every.
Single. Time. I am beyond proud of us.”
Some of the team members discreetly wiped their eyes with tissues.
Even Plub squeezed Peach's hand tightly, though he simply smiled, a
warm, genuine smile that he rarely showed.
"But all good things must come to an end. Following the board's
selection process, they have appointed a new team leader. This
morning I introduced the other three sub-teams. Now, it's time for all
of you to meet them."
As if perfectly timed, the door to the meeting room opened. It almost
seemed like the person outside had been waiting for the right signal. A
tall, thin man with remarkably clear skin entered. His honey-blond
hair, tied back at shoulder length, gleamed under the luorescent lights.
His sharp, fox-like eyes curved subtly at the corners, giving him an air
of mystery.
His inely sculpted face was framed by a soft, perpetual smile that
never wavered.

Peach's smile slowly faded, her heart pounding uneasily.

I knew it. I had a feeling, but I didn't think it was really him.
“This is Wivit. He is currently the deputy leader of Sub-Team Two, so
most of you probably already know him.” Nuch paused, taking a deep
breath before delivering the inal blow.
“From today onwards, he will be your team leader. Listen to him and
follow his lead.”
Some of the younger members of the team murmured polite
acknowledgements, but the more senior staff remained silent, their
faces openly hostile.
"Hello everyone. My name is Wivit, but feel free to call me Vit.
"I'm really excited about this opportunity to be your new team leader. I
look forward to working with all of you," he said with a warm,
rehearsed smile.
"If you want to say something to the team, please do so. I have to go to
a meeting."
Nuch gave him a small nod before gathering his belongings.
Just as he was about to leave the room, he looked back at Peach,
concern evident in his eyes. He quickly forced a reassuring smile in
return, though his stomach churned with unease.
"Okay, everyone. I know your time is valuable, so I'll be brief."
Peach snapped out of her thoughts and redirected her gaze towards
the head of the table, where Wivit stood, radiating an air of casual
authority. Their gazes met – intense and deliberate – but Wivit quickly
looked away, pretending it was just a passing glance.

"I want to have a quick meeting before we get back to work,"

Wivit continued softly. “Changing team leaders can be an adjustment,
so let’s set some clear expectations to avoid any… confusion.” He
glanced at his watch, feigning mild surprise – an overly rehearsed
gesture that rang hollow.
“We’ll have a joint meeting with all four teams in the main conference
room in an hour.” Wivit paused. His lips curved into a slightly wider
smile. “Only full-time team members need to attend. Part-timers and
freelancers – they’re off the book. It doesn’t affect them anyway.”
Peach crossed her arms over her chest, her eyes narrowing as
Summer's frustration began to simmer beneath her calm exterior.
Starting a war from the beginning, huh?

.......... .

More iles here

 ATTENTION CALL #13
Peach was a freelance photographer. Despite having a wide network of
contacts and a reputation as an exceptional photographer, he had his
own strict rules when it came to accepting work.
First of all, she latly refused to shoot nude photos, no exceptions. As
for sexy or risqué photos, she would only agree if the model was of
legal age and requested it herself. Even then, Peach had clear
boundaries about how far she would go, no matter how passionate the
shoot was.
It wasn't about trying to act like a gentleman or anything.
Peach simply saw himself as an older brother with a younger sister,
and the thought of someone looking at her with raw, objectifying eyes
made her skin crawl.
He always made sure to lay out these rules for potential clients up
front. His goal was to keep things professional and comfortable for
both parties.
But with Wivit things did not go so well.
A couple of years ago, Wivit had hired him for a photo shoot, of course
– unof icially. The job was to capture some sexy swimsuit photos for
an up-and-coming young actress as part of a summer campaign. Peach
had heard rumors that Wivit and the actress were more than just
professional acquaintances. Rumor had it that they had been seen
entering the same condo at night. To top it off, Wivit had apparently
used his connections in Arseny to get the actress a spot as one of his
product ambassadors. From there the gossip only grew.

Peach had a problem with that, though. Wivit and the actress could
have kissed in front of the entire crew, and Peach wouldn't have even
linched. She was there to work, not to butt in.
…The problem? That “promising actress” was only sixteen years old.
Wivit conveniently didn't mention this little detail until the day they
sat down to draw up the contract. It wasn't until Peach saw his ID card
that she realized the truth. The moment it clicked, Peach lat out
refused the job. No matter how much Wivit tried to cajole or cajole
him, Peach stood irm, unwavering in her decision.
She later discovered that Wivit had been bragging to the actress about
pulling strings to hire a renowned photographer like Peachayarat for
her photoshoot.
Peach wanted to roll her eyes. It wasn't that hard to book it, really.
If this schedule was open, he rarely turned down jobs and didn't care if
the model was famous or not. As long as the pay was fair, he was good
to go. The only time he said no was if the job con licted with his
personal rules or if his schedule was full.
But for Wivit, Peach's refusal must have been a hard blow to his ego.
Not long after, some nasty rumors about Peach began to circulate.
However, nothing stuck – there was no real evidence to back them up.
Plus, her work was still in high demand. Sure, there were some
awkward incidents – like models trying to
"pay" her with their bodies, but Peach handled it as professionally as
possible. The rumors eventually faded away on their own.
Peach doesn't mind gossip, but her younger sister, Plub, was a different
story. She wasn't about to let it go.

Around this time, Peach had just started getting to know Arseny
because Plub had gotten a job there. The company’s art team, who had
become close to him after discovering that he was Plub’s older brother,
often asked him for help, whether it was taking photographs or
tweaking some edits. Plub acted as his manager, reviewing requests
and organizing his work like a pro.
He ended up collaborating with the team so often that they became
friends. Before long, even the team leaders were dragging him to
meetings. He vividly remembered one of those early sessions. It was
the irst time he had met the iery Nuch, the assistant to the leader of
one of the sub-teams. His bright red hair was impossible to miss, and
he presented his team’s project with such pride that he couldn’t help
but be impressed.
At the end of her presentation, the team leader asked for comments.
Everyone chimed in here and there with minor suggestions until it was
Peach's turn. By this point, she was already feeling comfortable with
the group and giving constructive criticism was just part of her
routine. She pointed out several areas where the promotional photos
could be improved to better convey the intended message.
What Peach didn't know at irst was that the work the sub-team leader
had asked her to critique wasn't actually hers. It belonged to sub-team
two – the one under Wivit's supervision.
She only found out after the meeting was over. It was hard to miss the
tension on Wivit's face. Feeling bad, Peach approached him to
apologize, explaining that she hadn't meant to upset anyone.
Wivit responded with a polite smile, but his eyes told a different story:
dark and stormy, barely masking his simmering anger. He didn't say
much, but the message was loud and clear: he wasn't happy.

Soon after, Peach's work caught Nuch's attention. Impressed, she

began assigning her more important tasks, moving her from quick,
one-off favors to a full- ledged role in projects.
Plub, ever the ef icient little sister, took care of the paperwork to
of icially add him to a sub-team for an upcoming project. She had
every intention of having her brother's name recognized on the team
roster. But by the time the paperwork was delivered in the morning, it
was returned in the afternoon "with a call to Nuch to explain himself."
Apparently, involving an “outsider” on the team posed a security risk
to the company’s data, but he couldn’t understand the inconsistency.
There was no rule against hiring freelancers; Arseny had done it many
times before for entire projects. But somehow, when it came to his
brother, it suddenly wasn’t allowed.
Peach brushed it off and told him to overthink it. "If that's the rule, so
be it," she said. But Peach's frustration persisted.
From then on, even minor Peach-related tasks seemed to hit a snag:
budgets were cut, deadlines were rushed – there was always
something. And behind every setback?
Wivit's name. He never openly admitted anything but he never denied
it either. If anything, he seemed almost smug whenever Peach found
out who was behind the disaster.
Peach couldn't make sense of it.
As luck would have it, Peach started receiving offers from some high-
pro ile magazines. To simplify things, she decided to step away from
Arseny's projects for a while and instead pursue other freelance work.

This was how things went for almost four months, until Nuch was
promoted to team leader.
The moment she took the position, Nuch wasted no time and called
Peach. She insisted that she come back to work with them, this time on
of icial terms. Peach had just inished a few other concerts and since
she trusted Nuch, she agreed. It felt good to be back.
Everyone seemed happy to have him... well, almost everyone.
Peach had been keeping her head down, avoiding unnecessary drama.
With Nuch now in charge, everything was going smoothly. No more
interruptions, no more headaches. At least, until today, when it
seemed like their fragile cease ire was about to end.
Peach leaned back in her chair, arms crossed and one leg resting
casually over the other.
He had already inished his part in the Fall Collection project. Even if
he were to be kicked out halfway through the project, he couldn't care
less at this point. He had decided to stay out of the way, no matter how
much Wivit tried to stir up the pet. Being dragged into Wivit's
nonsense would only make things harder for Plub.
And now that Wivit was taking over as team leader, Peach was starting
to worry about her sister's safety in the workplace.
The conference room was packed with people. The four sub-teams
were gathered together. At the head of the table, Wivit stood with his
arms crossed and a warm, almost brotherly smile.

“Hello, everyone,” he began in his usual gentle tone. “Thank you for
taking the time to join us today.” Wivit’s voice was calm, almost
reassuring, like an older brother talking to his siblings.
"I'm Vit, and from today on, I'll be your team leader."
Peach suppressed a roll of her eyes. If there was one thing Wivit
excelled at, it was putting on a show. It was no surprise that she had
managed to convince a sixteen-year-old boy with a promising future
to fall for her charm.
“First of all, I want to say how impressed I was with the Fall Collection
project.” Wivit continued in a tone full of praise: “It was a huge task for
the four teams, but you all pulled it off wonderfully. We still have three
more seasons left, so let’s keep up the good work! It might be dif icult,
but I know we can do it together.”
Dif icult? Of course it is dif icult when you and your cronies don't lift a
damn inger!
Peach was seething inside, but managed to hide his irritation, looking
away as if he wasn't interested. There was no way he was going to let
Wivit notice the furious stream of insults going through his head.
He reminded himself to remain calm; he was not about to cause
trouble that could come back to haunt his sister.
“Actually, today’s meeting was meant to discuss the Winter Collection,”
Wivit said, his annoyed smile still plastered in place.
"But since the fall project is already inished, I thought we could take a
moment to appreciate everyone's hard work. As a little morale boost,
I'll show you the promotional clip for the TRANSLATION Collection:
Fx|Sx

Autumn. Wivit's gaze shifted brie ly to Peach, and for a split second,
there was a smugness there, a smile that faded so quickly Peach wasn't
sure she'd imagined it.
"What is your angle?"
Peach wasn't too concerned about the job itself. As petty as Wivit could
be, the guy cared too much about his own reputation to sabotage a
project that had his name attached to it. So, Peach just sat back and
watched the promotional video without saying a word.
“All Seasons: One Word” project was created as a mini drama, narrating
the love story of two people as they navigated life through the seasons.
The fall collection depicted charm and allure, with the male lead, Arun,
exuding a subtle and sexy vibe in the bustling urban landscape,
enveloped in the scent of his favorite fragrance.
Once the clip was inished, it was on to magazine layouts and
promotional images. The shots of Aran, decked out in Arseny’s
signature accessories and cologne, were striking and polished. Peach
scanned the images quickly but thoroughly, checking every detail.
They were de initely his photos and nothing was out of place. Satis ied,
he nodded slightly to himself.
Although she doubted Wivit would go so far as to sabotage her work,
Peach still couldn't trust the guy.
That distrust was justi ied when, after all the images were offended,
the storyboard details appeared, ending with the team credits. This
was the presentation that Wivit planned to pitch to the highest levels.
If it was approved without problems, it would be approved for
publication. But there was one problem...

Peach pursed her lips and frowned slightly. But before she could say
anything, her younger sister, Plub, was already there. As soon as the
video presentation ended, she raised her hand, quick as lightning.
"Excuse me, Vit. I think there's some information missing from the
video."
"Is there any information missing? How is that?" Wivit's response
came with his characteristic soft, friendly and open smile, as if he were
willing to accept any criticism with the utmost sincerity.
"Why isn't Peach's name appearing?" Plub's tone was irm, but his
piercing gaze made it clear that he wasn't going to back down.
The problem was that Peach's name didn't appear anywhere in the
credits. Worse, the spots that should have been hers had been replaced
by someone completely different.
"Peach spearheaded the theme concept for this project. She attended
every team meeting and photographed the entire fall collection. Why
doesn't her name appear in any of those roles?"
“Oh, that,” Wivit replied, his expression not faltering. “We rearranged
the team credits, and your name may have been omitted by mistake.”
He gave an apologetic chuckle before adding, “But I suppose we can
include your name in the photograph. As for the topic of the project,
well…” He trailed off, turning to Peach with that infuriatingly serene
smile. “It wouldn’t really be accurate to say it was your idea, would it?
After all, it was a collaborative effort by the entire team. I’m sure you
understand that, Peachayarat.”
Peach clenched his jaw and his hand tightened lightly on Plub's arm, a
silent signal for her to hold back. The fury boiling inside him was
dangerously close to boiling over, but he forced himself to remain
calm.
Keep calm. Don't make Plub's life harder.
"Just make sure you ix it. We don't want anyone thinking you're only
good at stealing other people's work," Peach said, her tone even and
cold. Her lips twitched into a slight smile, but the slight twitch of her
brow betrayed her irritation.
"Of course. I'll have the team ix it right away," Wivit replied softly,
though a lash of something unreadable crossed his face.
"While we're at it, let me introduce a new member of the team."
The new team leader walked to the door, opened it and called someone
from outside. A slender young man with a sweet and delicate face with
big round eyes that sparkled with youthful energy. His bright smile lit
up the room, exuding a cheerful knowingness, and around his neck
hung a heavy DSLR camera. He walked in, following hesitantly behind
Wivit.
“Let me introduce someone,” Wivit announced with a proud smile, his
tone brimming with the satisfaction of a man who had inally pulled off
a great festival to bene it his team – or so he liked to think. “This is
Trend, our new full-time photographer. He will be joining us starting
with the Winter Collection project.”
Wivit smiled like an older brother showing off his brother's
accomplishments, clearly pleased with himself.
"From now on, we will no longer have to struggle to ind part-time
photographers for every project."

ATTENTION CALL #14

Peach gripped her sister's arm tightly, knowing full well how stubborn
Plub could be. The chances of her getting up and causing a scene were
extremely high, but she couldn't let that happen. Wivit was a master at
keeping up appearances, and if Plub lost his cool, she would be the one
to take the blame instantly.
“Nuch didn’t hire Peach until the end of the project?” One of the team
members chimed in, his brow furrowed in confusion. They had worked
with Peach several times before and found his skills and attention to
detail to be impeccable. The thought of replacing him had never
crossed their minds.
“Nuch only signed a contract for the fall collection,” Wivit replied
calmly, lashing his trademark wide smile. “The rest of the project was
just a verbal agreement. I thought it would save us the trouble of
writing up new documents. Besides, it’s more cost-effective for the
team if we hire a full-time photographer from the company.” He lightly
patted Tren on the shoulder and then slid his arm around the young
man’s shoulders in an all-too-familiar manner.
“Also, while Tren might not be as experienced as Peach,” he continued,
his tone dripping with condescending sweetness. “This new
perspective and enthusiasm as part of the new generation should
make up for it. I would appreciate it if everyone gave him a fair chance
before jumping to conclusions.”
Pausing for effect. Wivat ixed his gaze on Peach, his expression
polished to a fault: suave and professional yet brimming with
unspoken de iance. “Mr Peachayarat is a well-known photographer
with a busy schedule,” Wivit added, his words deceptively polite.
"I'm sure it's inconvenient for him that we call him all the time"

time. Stepping aside to let younger talents take over this project
wouldn't be too much of a burden, right?"
Peach pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes slightly. But in a split
second, he hid his irritation with a calm, casual smile, as if none of this
had bothered him in the slightest.
"I have no problem. I'm happy to support new talent," Peach said softly.
"But if you ever need a hand, you know I'll always be here – all you have
to do is ask, Mr. Wivit."
The new team leader's smile faltered slightly, his eyes hardening for
only a fraction of a second before softening again.
Don't screw this up... or you'll be done for.
Although the meeting had of icially ended, in Plub's eyes it hadn't been
a smooth one. If it weren't for her brother holding her back, she would
have already done something about it.
She followed him to the parking lot, her hand lowering her phone after
a frustrating call with her former team leader, now a stay-at-home
mom.
"Nuch said that moron already sent the team list to upper
management. He only found out about it by yelling it out right before
the meeting this morning. Nobody could ix it in time."
Peach patted his head gently, as if calming a hissing, ruf led cat. She
knew Nuch meant well.

Originally, he had drawn up a contract covering only the fall collection,

hoping that if the work turned out excellent, he could negotiate a
better rate for himself next time. No one expected Wivit to use that as
leverage.
Peach knew exactly what Wivit was after: he wanted her to come
crawling back, begging for the job. But Peach wasn't that desperate.
She didn't need a job so badly that she would grovel before someone
like that.
Still, a pang of regret twisted in his chest. The project he had worked so
hard to build from scratch...
gone. He clenched his jaw, frustration boiling beneath his skin, bottled
up with nowhere to go.
"I'll go talk to the department head," Plub declared, determination
shining in his eyes.
"Don't even think about it. Plub. Let it go. Stay away from that guy."
He put an arm around her shoulders and gently guided her to a nearby
bench. Peach knelt in front of her, his large hand gently squeezing hers.
"Don't give up, Peach," Plah pleaded. "We may not have the connections
to ight him, but I won't give up that easily."
"Plub, it's not about winning or losing. That jerk is a rabid dog and he
won't stop chasing me no matter what. Even without this job, I have a
lot of work ahead of me. You know that." She tried to keep her voice as
calm as possible. He could see how angry she was, he felt the same
way, but she couldn't let this mess drag her down too.

"Stay out of this. Plub. If he hates me, let him come after me alone. If
you try to reject him, I'm afraid he'll come after you too. You're my
sister... and I've already caused you enough trouble."
“You’re my brother too,” she replied, her voice shaking. “Why should I
stand by and watch someone hurt you?” Her tears spilled over and ran
down her cheeks. She was furious, at Wivit for what he had done and at
herself for not being able to ix it.
Peach hugged her tightly, gently pressing her face into his shoulder as
she ran her ingers through his soft hair. Seeing her cry made his chest
ache.
It had always been just the two of them against the world, and now he
had made his beloved sister cry.
"Shh... it's okay," he murmured softly. "Don't cry, darling. If you cry too
much, your eyes will swell up... what will your brother do if his
beautiful sister isn't so pretty anymore?" He rocked her gently, as if
soothing a child.
“Why, Peach? Just because we don’t have connections like he does… is
that why he has to treat you like that?” His voice cracked. “What did
you do to him? Why don’t we just leave you alone?” Peach didn’t
respond. She simply gave him a tender kiss on the top of his head and
continued to rub his back and shoulders until she stopped shaking.
When she inally seemed calm enough, he gently wiped away her
lingering tears with his ingertips. Peach managed a slight, shaky smile
before heading back inside. Peach stayed behind, watching her
disappear into the drugs before getting into her car.
Peach leaned her head back against the steering wheel and let out a
long, tired sigh. Her chest felt as tight and heavy as his chest must have
felt.

Plub. But as his older brother, he could only force a smile and pretend
that everything was okay.
His gaze turned to his phone. When Plub mentioned "connections," his
mind involuntarily recalled that man: the heir of the ma ia.
Since their last tense encounter, whatever it was, there hadn't been a
single call or text from the other end, Peach had wanted to put some
distance between them, feeling like maybe she had crossed too many
lines already.
Asking for help now seemed... unthinkable.
He exhaled sharply, trying to push the thought away. He hadn't lied to
Plub: Peachyarat was one of the best photographers in the country. His
schedule was packed, probably until next year. He didn't need to hold
on to anything related to Wivit's name.
But even knowing that, bitterness still simmered beneath his skin,
bottled up with no way out in sight.
……………………………
Mok played the dual role of personal secretary and bodyguard to the
president of Arseny Corporation, a responsibility entrusted to him by
the family patriarch himself. From a young age, he had been trained to
follow and protect the eldest son of the Arseny family.
In addition to the documents related to the Russian family
conglomerate that Theerakit had to master, there were also iles from
the fragrance company in Thailand, which Thee had built from scratch.
This made Theerakit's workload much heavier than that of an average
corporate president.
Mok typically organized paperwork into four main categories.

Non-urgent and unimportant documents, urgent documents,

important documents, and inally, documents that were both urgent
and important.
"All Project" ile Seasons: One Word" to the "important" category.
Most of the bodyguards, ignorant of the iner details, assumed that
Mok moved the ile because the president's latest ling was a
handsome young model. But only he knew better. It wasn't because of
the model: why would the president's new toy matter anyway?
The real reason he moved the ile was because of a certain
photographer whose status was unclear in his mind.
New documents were delivered that day. Mok quickly opened the ile
and noticed the title of the project he had already classi ied in
"Important." He decided to read it irst, his eyes scanning the pages as
a slight frown tugged at his forehead.
He had done his own research on Peach and knew exactly who the
photographer's former team leader was. He also knew that his
resignation of icially took effect yesterday. This meant that the
previous team leader, Ms. Nuch, had only inished her work for one day.
However, in his hands was a new team template for the project, dated
two days earlier. Somehow, the ile had circulated through the usual
corporate channels, reaching the president's desk much faster than
usual.
Too fast to have been formally drafted. Too fast for the document to be
submitted through procedures

of icials, especially since the former team leader's signature was

conspicuously missing.
Mok put aside his growing suspicions and read the ile more carefully.
He turned to the last page, where he inally saw what was wrong.
The photographer's name did not appear anywhere.
Having served the president long enough, Mok immediately
reclassi ied the ile as “Urgent and Important” and even retrieved
previous related documents for cross-reference.
After organizing the papers and sliding the updated team list to the
bottom of the pile, he walked to the executive of ice and knocked
irmly on the door, requesting permission to enter.
Theerakit sat behind his massive desk, multiple stock charts lashing
on the screen in front of him. An iPad loaded with documents waited
beside him, along with a large stack of printed iles. The atmosphere in
the room was thick with tension, making it clear that a person not in
their right mind would willingly approach him.
Yet, despite the heavy workload, the chairman of the Arseny Group
stared at his phone, his dark brow furrowed in deep concentration.
The air around him felt oppressive, as if he was about to close a
billion-dollar deal.
Mok couldn't help but shake his head slightly, unsurprised by the
scene. After reporting the night before that he had safely left Peach,
even slipping in the last words Peach had left for him to pass on, his
bons had become eerily silent. Since then, Thee had been glued to his
phone, alternating between furtive glances at the phone screen and
simply

picking it up, only to put it down again as if ighting an internal battle.

Mok had never seen his boss like this before, although, strangely, he
didn't seem so out of place now.
"Mr. Thee, urgent documents for approval," the secretary announced,
moving forward to place the papers on the desk.
completely unfazed by the sti ling atmosphere radiating from his
employer.
Thee hummed in acknowledgement without looking up, sparing only a
leeting glance before returning her attention to her phone as if it held
the secrets of the universe.
For God's sake, if you want to call, do it now.
Mok thought with mild exasperation. As much as he was tempted to let
his boss muddle through his own mess for a while, the matter at hand
couldn't wait.
If he found out later, he would only end up blaming Mok for the delay.
"Boss, these documents really need your urgent
attention." pressed irmly.
He gave her a sharp, slightly annoyed look before reluctantly looking
away from his phone and back to the stack of documents. Mok still had
the old list of the project team. Silently hoping that they would notice
something was wrong and ask him for the old ile himself. If he
overlooked the inconsistency and signed the approval blindly, Mok
would have to hand it over anyway.
Mok, who was already leaning a little towards the photographer's side
in his heart
– combined with his boss's unpredictable mood swings – came to

a solid conclusion: if Thee didn't realize the problem, she would have
to speak up for the sake of her own survival.
The young secretary remained silent, watching his boss sift through
the stack of documents with practiced ef iciency. Thee's keen
analytical skills and decisive nature allowed him to tackle problems at
lightning speed. Everything was going well, until he reached the last
ile in the stack.
His already frowned brow deepened and his hand stopped mid-turn.
His ingers traced the names listed on the document for the third time,
moving faster with each pass.
"Where is Peach's name?"
Mok suppressed a knowing smile. It seemed like the photographer's
importance had just been raised to a new level.
“The new project leader requested a replacement,” Mok replied evenly,
repeating the exact line from the document. “They proposed using the
company’s in-house photographer to cut costs.” His voice was calm
and distant, devoid of any emotion.
“I don’t approve!” Thee’s voice dropped dangerously low, laced with a
growl that could freeze one’s blood, “That child can’t just walk away
from a project he’s responsible for.” Despite the intensity of the cold,
demanding tone, Mok didn’t even blink. He’d been through this
countless times and was already completely numb to it.
“I’m sure Peach wouldn’t give up on her job. I checked her schedule
myself. She’s ine for the next three months; I cleared her schedule
speci ically for this project.” Mok stated irmly. He had personally
checked the photographer’s availability when he investigated her
background earlier.

The room pulsed with an oppressive tension, the kind that would make
most people's knees buckle in fear. But Mok, experienced from years of
navigating his boss's volatile moods, remained unfazed.
"Who suggested the change?"
"The new team leader is called Wivit, sir. The marketing head has
already approved the approval. All that remains is your signature to
make the document of icial."
"Freeze all the documents in the marketing department. Tell the head
of the department to write me a proper explanation 'in detail,'"
Theerakit snapped, his voice high and relentless. He stood up abruptly,
his long strides propelling him towards the door as he gave orders for
the car to be ready.
Mok shook his head, half amused. It was a good thing he had saved that
particular ile for last. He had thought his boss wouldn't just sit back
and let this go.
Maybe it was time to start drafting a recruitment for the marketing
department, as they might soon need a couple of new hires.

ATTENTION CALL #15

Peach lay sprawled across the bed, arms and legs outstretched, staring
at the ceiling. An indescribable emptiness weighed on his chest,
leaving him feeling detached and exhausted.
Yesterday's emotional storm had calmed, but a lingering heaviness
still stubbornly clung to her chest, making even the thought of moving
feel exhausting.
The contract for the “All Seasons: One Word” project had only been a
verbal agreement with Nuch, but he had cleared his entire work
schedule for three months just for that. Now, with the project
cancelled, he was left with absolutely nothing on his plate: an unknown
and unsettling reality.
He could try to reschedule old work or accept new assignments, but
the mere thought of working exhausted him even more.
With a long, resigned sigh, his frustration dissolved into paralyzing
laziness.
To tell the truth, he couldn't remember the last time he had been so
genuinely free. As a child, he had worked tirelessly to support himself
and his younger brother. After sending his brother to school, working
non-stop had become second nature!
Maybe taking a break wasn’t such a bad idea after all. His eyes drifted
to the calendar, its empty slots staring back at him mockingly. He felt
lost, like a car forced to brake hard after speeding too hard on the
highway.
Pursing her lips, Peach's gaze drifted to the bookshelf against the wall.
Among the work-related reference books was a stack of travel guides
that Plub had left behind years ago.

Maybe... he could go on a trip.

The thought brought a slight sense of relief. He picked up his phone
and started looking at potential destinations, preferring somewhere
relaxing and quiet. He wasn't in the mood for anything adventurous or
demanding, just a relaxing getaway to clear his mind.
The beach looked perfect.
Once Peach made up her mind, she set about packing. She pulled out
some comfortable clothes she rarely wore and began mentally
planning her trip. Driving along the coast with a camera seemed like
the escape she needed.
She had just inished packing her essentials into her bag. She was
planning to hit the road the next day, when suddenly the doorbell rang.
Pausing, he walked out of the bedroom, his brow furrowed in
confusion.
She had lived in this condo for years and could count on one hand how
many times she had interacted with her neighbors, and even then, it
was just passing politeness. Who the hell would be ringing her
doorbell now?
Before he could understand it, the doorbell rang again, this time more
insistently. The shrill sound made him jump. Worried about disturbing
the neighbors, he hurried, practically running. And he lung open the
door, completely forgetting to check the peephole.
The last person he expected to see was Thee, standing in the doorway
with his arms crossed and a dark, unforgiving expression.
"Mr. Thee?" Each managed to gasp, mouths slightly agape. Before he
could ask what the man was doing there, the head of the

The stern-faced ma ia pushed the door open with ease, forcing his
broad frame inside. Still stunned, Peach could only stare, frozen for a
moment. But as soon as she saw you casually enter the apartment like
you owned the place, indignation erupted.
“Mr. Thee, change your shoes irst,” Peach snapped, his voice carrying a
hint of urgency. He was too lazy to mop the loor again if there was any
dirt left. Without thinking, he grabbed Thee’s arm, holding on irmly,
his mind completely focused on inding a pair of slippers.
He looked at the hand gripping his arm, something unreadable
lashing in his eyes, though his expression remained neutral. He
stopped short, silently pleased, though his voice remained cold as ever
as he asked.
"Why should I do that?"
"Your shoes are dirty. I won't clean the loor again."
"I'll call housekeeping." You deadpan, already reaching for your phone
like you meant it. Peach then grabbed an old pair of sneakers from her
sister.
"Just change your shoes, that's all. Here, I have my sister's slippers..."
Peach trailed off, suddenly noticing that the boots were bright pink
with a giant luffy bunny tail on the back.
His breath hitched as he looked at you again, his heart skipping a beat
at the thought of making him wear them. Not missing a single bit of
heat, he tossed the slippers across the room.

That was close. As if he had let a ruthless mob boss would wear those
slippers. He would surely be signing his own sentence of death.
"... Just take off your shoes, please. It's much easier than calling
housekeeping."
Theerakit hesitated, but when he caught sight of Peach's pleading
expression, he sighed and stepped back, kicking off his shoes. Then,
with the air of someone who owned the place, he walked into the living
room and lay down on the couch, propping his feet up on the coffee
table as if it were his personal lounge.
Arguing was useless, so Peach hurriedly fetched a glass of water,
practically on autopilot, and set it down in front of her important
guest.
"Why didn't you call me?"
The abrupt question left him cold. He was getting used to Thee's
random interrogations, though, so he didn't let it show. He silently set
down his glass before sinking into the chair opposite.
"I had no reason to," he replied with a slight smile and looked down. "I
didn't know what I would say.
The lingering fear from that day still clung to him.
You studied him silently. Large, unreadable expression: less cold and
authoritative than usual, almost… dull. Even his voice was calmer
when he spoke again. “Why did you abandon the project?”
"I didn't quit. The team told me they didn't need me anymore. What
else was I supposed to do?" Peach said, shrugging, though the
tightness in her chest lared again. "If you're worried about Aran, don't
worry."

"I hope you are. It seems like you two are working things out nicely.
You can go on without me... I'll even send you her number."
"I'm not worried about Aran. I'm worried about you."
Peach froze and raised his head to stare at the young man in front of
him in disbelief. The man's face remained unreadable, calm as ever, as
if he hadn't just dropped a bombshell. His tone was irm, unwavering,
there was no softness in his gaze, but his intensity carried something
stronger: unwavering determination.
"You're not the type to give up easily. That project was yours.
Why didn't you ight for him?
“I couldn’t… I couldn’t do anything.” Peach’s voice faltered, breaking
under the weight of the emotions she’d bottled up for so long, rage
with no outlet, resentment with no resolution. It all crushed her chest,
making it hard to breathe. “If I had fought back, Plub would have been
the one to suffer. They have connections… power, I couldn’t let my
sister get hurt because of me. But I’m so angry, so furious that I can’t
even think straight, but I was powerless.”
"So why didn't you call me?"
The same question – again. Peach stood still, waltzing; she might have
misunderstood his meaning all along. She had assumed the mob was
simply angry that she wasn’t keeping an eye on Aran, as usual. But
now… it seemed the meaning was deeper.
Was it possible... to believe that someone really wanted to protect him?
"Could... I really have called you?" Peach asked quietly, her voice
distant. Ever since Mr. Thee had given her that number, she had never

I had considered using it other than to respond when I called it,

demand updates, or issue commands.
He was a mobster, after all. How could Peach have thought he had the
right to ask for anything?
"There are hundreds, thousands, of people who would kill to have my
number," Theerakit said, his tone dripping with arrogance. "But you?
You've had this all along... which means I've given you permission to
call me."
Peach blinked, her mind reeling. Her chest felt tight, her emotions
tangled into an impossible knot.
"...If I had called...would you have helped me?"
"Why wouldn't I help you? You're mine. No one can mess with what's
mine."
Peach froze. Thee’s gaze remained irm, unwavering, as if daring him
to question her sincerity. Her voice had a gravity that felt almost
tangible, rooting Peach to the spot. There was no deception there, only
resolute conviction, as sold as a lone tree standing irm in the heart of
a raging ocean.
"I... can I really call you? If I do, will you really help me? I won't have to
ight alone anymore?
I won't have to be afraid of that bastard's connections... Won't I just
have to accept it?"
Thee crossed her arms and squared her shoulders with an air of
superiority, as if to ask:
What part of that didn't you understand?
“You’re mine. Isn’t that connection enough?” His lips curved into a
con ident smile, exuding authority as if he could rule the world with
just a lick of his ingers. “Even if the sky falls, I’ll help you carry it, or
have my men do it.”

Her words, so typically ma ia-like, struck harder than any vow of

protection. The emotions Peach had fought so desperately to suppress
rose, spilling over like foam from an over illed glass of beer. She
couldn’t speak, couldn’t look away from Thee’s resolute eyes. Her chest
heaved, and before she knew it, hot tears were spilling down her
cheeks.
Thee stiffened, startled, instinctively straightening up. His thick
eyebrows furrowed in frustration; he was clearly not used to handling
something like this. But in the end, he simply stayed where he was,
letting Peach cry until every trace of anguish was washed away with
her tears.
Whether it was her blurry vision of something else, Peach thought she
saw a softness in those familiar smoky grey eyes, a tenderness that
was rarely revealed, hidden behind the usual hardness.
Whatever it was, for the irst time in a long time, Peach felt like he was
standing on solid ground.
After crying her heart out in front of someone for the irst time in her
life during a ifteen-minute total meltdown, Peach inally managed to
pull herself together. She mumbled an apology for the emotional
outburst and excused herself to go to the bathroom to clean herself up.
Thee hadn't hugged him or tried to comfort him, or told him to stop
crying. She'd simply sat there, watching intently and waiting patiently,
giving Peach the space to let out every pent-up emotion she'd been
carrying.
Oddly enough, that silent support made him feel... better.
Peach wiped her tear-stained face with a towel and returned to the
living room, only to ind the couch empty. You were nowhere to be
seen. She frowned.

and looked around. His condo wasn't exactly spacious - there weren't
many places a mob boss could go.
Just as he reached the bedroom, he saw you standing in the doorway,
your broad frame tense and your expression dark and stormy. Gone
was the calm, steady presence of before; now you radiated pure fury,
like a gathering storm.
What the hell now?

“What’s going on?” Peach asked cautiously, choosing her words

carefully despite the confusion swirling in her mind. Theerakit turned
sharply, his eyes burning as he pointed a shaking inger at something
inside the room.
"Tell me, what the hell is this? Were you planning on running away? Let
me make one thing very clear: with the Arseny family's in luence, you
could ly to the other side of the damn planet, and I would still ind
you."
Peach blinked in bewilderment before leaning over to see what had
sparked such outrage.
Her gaze fell on her half-open suitcase and the pile of clothes strewn
across the bed. Understanding came instantly.
"I wasn't planning on running"
"You didn't call me, but your irst thought was to run? Remember this:
the only way to escape me... is through death!"
The young photographer turned away, making a monumental effort
not to roll his eyes. He racked his brain, trying to remember if there
were any currently successful soap operas that might have planted
another strange idea in Thee’s head. He made a mental note to tell Mok
to pick better shows for Mr. Thee, ones with less over-the-top plots.

"Mr. Thee, calm down. Calm down, okay?" Peach reached out and
grabbed Thee's broad hand, giving it a irm squeeze to make sure she
had his attention. "I'm not running away. I'm not packing up my stuff
or moving or anything like that. I'm just going on a trip."
The mob boss looked at the slender hand holding his own. Instantly,
the air around him seemed to lighten, the suffocating tension
dissipating enough that he could inally breathe properly again.
He let out a sigh, about to pull his hand away, but Thee held on tightly.
Her ingers lazily traced circles on the back of Peach's hand as if she
was enjoying herself a little too much.
"Where are you going? I'll buy you a plane so your trip will be much
easier: go and come back quickly."
Mr. Thee, get a hold of yourself!

ATTENTION CALL #16

Theerakit felt an inexplicable sense of comfort.
The young photographer's hands were not soft like the ones he usually
preferred.
They were calloused in places, rough from hard work – hands that told
a story of effort, not the smooth, silky kind. And yet, he found himself
liking this closeness far more than he expected.
He lexed Peach's hand, bringing his inger up to her wrist. Seeing that
the faint red marks had completely disappeared brought him a
satisfaction he couldn't quite explain.
For the past two days that Peach had been away, perhaps it was
because their last encounter had left a bad taste in her mouth, and
there was a mix of frustration and confusion that refused to dissipate.
It wasn't just discomfort; it was something heavier. I didn't know what
it was.
When he heard that Peach had been bullied, anger lared up – how dare
anyone touch what was his? Yet somewhere deep down, he felt
strangely… excited. It had given him an excuse to look for Peach again.
Even when Peach had cried – something that should have been
awkward or even annoying – it hadn't bothered him at all.
He had seen countless people cry in front of him before. Beautiful
women with perfect igures, adorable boys with soft, pleading eyes,
even old men with faces twisted in pitiful despair. Whether they were
sobbing as if their world was ending or trying to cry in a way that
looked seductive, he found it all irritating.
But not Peach. Not even a little.

Thee's eyes darted to the open suitcase lying on the loor, and she
cleared her throat, suddenly self-conscious. Then she realized: maybe
she had overreacted a little.
Still, he couldn't get the thought of Peach disappearing out of his head.
The thought had sent a pain through his chest, an emptiness that left
him reeling. It had irritated him so much that he exploded without
even meaning to.
Thee pressed her lips together lightly, frowning deeper as she caught
the exasperated look on Peach's face.
He decided to steer the conversation in a completely different
direction.
“So, what made you suddenly decide to take a trip?” He moved subtly,
blocking the bedroom door, not intending to revisit the embarrassing
moment from before. “You don’t have any work to do, so you take the
opportunity to sneak out and play?”
"I've got three months of nothing but free time. And I'm too pissed off
at that jerk to take any jobs, so yeah, I igured I'd go on a trip," Peach
replied, her tone high-pitched and illed with lingering annoyance.
"You sure you don't want the plane?" Thee asked again, frowning
slightly. That earned her a squinty-eyed look of disdain from Peach.
"No. Absolutely not: Don't spend money on unnecessary things."
Thee's lips quivered with the faintest of smiles, so subtle it was barely
visible.
Somehow, Peach's scolding was... adorable.
Thee froze for a second, shocked by her own thoughts. She quickly let
go of Peach's hand, her expression a

a mix of surprise and panic. That, of course, made Peach tilt her head
slightly, looking at him with curious eyes, the slight redness still visible
around her.
… Adorable
"Are you okay? Do you feel sick or something?" Peach asked, her tone
softening as she instinctively leaned forward, only to hesitate and step
back instead.
“…” Thee’s frown deepened, irritation bubbling in her chest.
Why go back?
"Why don't you sit down for a while? I'll get you some water."
The young mobster didn’t bother to respond. Instead, his strong hand
caught Peach by the arm and guided him halfway, half-dragged him, to
the couch. He pressed him against it with enough force to ensure he
stayed still, ignoring the bewildered looks thrown his way. Without a
word, Thee walked into the small kitchen and grabbed a clean towel
and some ice cubes.
Thee returned, wrapping the ice securely in the towel, one hand irmly
holding Peach's chin, tilting it up, keeping him in place, as if he could
barely move.
"Close your eyes," Thee ordered sharply when he noticed Peach
looking at him with those big, round eyes.
At the command, Peach immediately closed her eyes tightly. Thee used
her ingertips to gently massage her eyelids before pressing the towel-
wrapped ice pack against them.

"Keep it like that. It's so swollen that if you don't, it'll be swollen like
crazy tomorrow."
"You're really good at this. Do you do this often for people?"
Peach asked with a slight playful smile, "You don't seem like you're the
type to cry a lot, more like the type to make others cry."
Thee's gaze shifted to Peach's lips, which were still moving with her
teasing remarks. Her soft cheeks, peeking out from beneath the towel,
had a slight blush that hinted at shyness.
Thee liked it that way: more natural, less scared.
Realizing that she had been staring at Peach's lips for too long, Thee
quickly looked away.
"Do you want to get back to work?" he asked, his tone serious as he
tried to steer the conversation elsewhere. "I'll take care of your team
leader myself. You can start tomorrow if you want."
"I think it's best to leave it for now," Peach said, removing the towel
and lipping it over to ind a cooler side before pressing again.
"Someone like Wivit, if you take them down by force, they'll only hold a
grudge. I don't want Plub to be dragged into this."
"So what? You're not going back to work?"
Thee's brow furrowed, her displeasure evident. Peach noticed and
couldn't help but giggle, her lips curling into a mischievous smile as
she arched an eyebrow in a playful challenge.
"Only if that guy begs me to come back. That would be satisfying."

Thee looked at Peach, and instead of inding him unpleasant or

villainous, she just thought he looked endearing. Too endearing. She
looked away, crossing her arms to keep from reaching out and
caressing Peach's soft, blushing cheeks.
Peach wasn't even remotely close to the type of person Thee usually
liked: slim and tall with a well-groomed face. He wasn't the small,
sweet-looking guy she was usually attracted to. And his personality? It
couldn't be more different.
But somehow, being around Peach brought Thee a strange sense of
calm that he couldn't put into words. It was a kind of comfort that
allowed him to let his guard down, to follow what Peach wanted
without overthinking. It felt liberating, like he could truly be himself.
And when Peach wasn't around, he felt strangely irritated.
He paused, trying to work it out in his head.
Was it possible that he already thought of Peach as a friend?
With a small nod, Thee decided that was the most reasonable
explanation. She mentally placed Peach in the trusted friend category.
Her gaze lingered on Peach's sly smile, on the way her eyes sparkled
with the mischief she was planning. He didn't look threatening at all. In
fact, it gave Thee a strange, warm feeling inside.
You should keep him as a close friend.

“So, what’s your plan?” Thee asked as she sat down on the couch,
crossing one leg over the other in her usual con ident manner. She put
her hands together and

hands, clearly interested in whatever nonsense Peach was about to

suggest.
Even if it was just harmless entertainment, Thee felt strangely inclined
to play along.
“I’m thinking of taking a relaxing road trip, driving wherever I feel like,
stopping to take pictures, enjoying some good food, and then staying
overnight wherever,” Peach said, a soft smile on her lips. Her eyes were
sparkling. “In the meantime, I plan to give the newbie a chance to
handle things. But, if his work isn’t up to par, you’ll surely call me back
to ix it anyway.”
Thee smiled weakly. It was like watching a little boy trying to plan
something big. As a good senior, he thought that maybe he should let
the boy lead for once.
"Yeah, it looks like there's going to be a lot of trouble with that job," he
said, nodding in agreement. If Peach said there would be trouble, then
there better be trouble!
“But don’t tease them too much, okay?” Peach warned, her tone light
but irm. “If they do a good job, give them credit. They’re just newbies,
they have no idea about all this drama. Besides, a project like this
could be very important for their portfolio.” For the young
photographer, the real target of his frustration was Wivit. He didn’t
want the new employees’ future to be derailed just because of petty
of ice politics or some immature power play.
Thee didn't make any promises. Instead, his smile widened slightly,
hinting at thoughts that no one could possibly guess. Who would dare
try to understand the mind of a mob boss? When it came to settling
scores, he wasn't the type to forgive or forget, not even a penny's
worth of interest.
"Have you decided where you're going?" he asked nonchalantly, though
he was secretly calculating how long he could let Peach be gone before
he needed to call him back. He didn't want the guy to disappear for too
long, but he igured a little break wouldn't hurt either, a chance to
escape the chaos for a while.
"I'm thinking about the beach," Peach said, removing the cloth from
her eyes and gently rubbing her temples. "It's been forever since I
went."
"I was just imagining myself driving along the coast, enjoying the view,
maybe taking some sunset photos. Sounds nice, right?"
"I have a hotel next to the beach."
The passing comment made Peach pause. She looked at Thee with a
mix of suspicion and mild exasperation, prompting Theo to quickly
clarify. "I'm a co-owner, I can give you a discount. It'll save you some
money."
"To be honest, as a somewhat successful photographer, I have a fair
amount of savings," Peach replied seriously, though it seemed the
implication was completely lost on Thee. What did a hotel have to do
with savings, anyway?
"Why don't you just come in and drop my name? Or better yet, I could
call and reserve a room for you."
Peach shook her head irmly, her expression turning adorably grumpy.
"That's your privilege, Mr. Thee. I can't just go around throwing your
name around like that."
The mob frowned deeper, clearly confused.
I offered, so why can't he? Crossing his arms, he tried to igure out
what else he could do. He wanted to make up for all the trouble Peach
had been through, both for him and his company.

"How about I just give you my credit card instead?"

"Mr. Thee!"
Theerakit emerged from the condominium looking much more
cheerful than when he arrived. Mok, waiting downstairs, felt a surge of
relief at the sight of him. It seemed the conversation between the two
upstairs had gone better than he had feared.
At irst, he had been worried. Knowing his boss’s… unique way of
thinking and how easily he could misread situations, Mok had been
tense, especially when Theerakit had stormed in earlier like a raging
storm cloud. Mok couldn’t help but worry about the safety of the
photographer who had been left alone in that room. He had even tried
to follow his boss inside, only to receive a sharp look and a silent order
to wait by the car downstairs.
Four hours later, the discussion upstairs seemed to have come to an
end. Mok closed the passenger door after his boss settled into his seat,
then moved to the driver’s side. As the car began to roll down the
narrow alley leading to the main road, Mok’s thoughts wandered. The
condo was in a prime location, close to the main road and right next to
the BTS line. For such a place, it wasn’t overpriced.
The comment caught the young secretary by surprise, leaving him
blinking blankly in confusion. Years of working for his eccentric boss
had taught him to remain calm, so he restrained himself from stopping
short in surprise.
“Should I cancel the marketing department’s documentation, then?”
Mok decided to change to a safer topic, convinced that Theerakit’s
comment had not been meant to provoke a real response.
Plus, he wasn't particularly eager to ind out why his boss

He was suddenly interested in buying another condo. However, the

response he received only deepened his confusion.
"No. Don't cancel it."
"Wait, really? So... you're just going to let Mr. Peach go?"
"Peach is going on vacation," Theerakit said simply, stretching out his
legs and crossing one over the other. He leaned back against the seat
with the lazy grace of a big cat settling in for a nap, though this
particular cat felt more like a lion than a house cat.
"But I think it's time for us to make some changes in the company."
Thee said, her voice calm but imbued with a quiet authority. A faint
smile played at the corners of her lips, but her sharp eyes burned with
a menacing glint. The air in the car grew heavier, prompting her
secretary to shift uncomfortably in her seat.
Even when a predator seemed to rest its claws and remain silent,
under your care, it was still a predator.
"Let's start by closing Studio A for renovations." He continued in a
calm tone. "It seems like we'll need a sizable budget to renovate it as
well. I guess that means there won't be any funds available to support
photo shoots for now."
Mok's lips curved into a small, understanding smile, his eyes lickering
brie ly with silent understanding.

ATTENTION CALL #17

The Arseny Corporation was a massive conglomerate with both grey
and black market companies under its wing. Given its vast scale, the
company boasted a colossal marketing budget, enough to build its
own fully equipped studio facilities for photo shoots and video
production.
The largest and most advanced of these was Studio A, currently fully
booked for three months for the "All Seasons: One Word" project .
The studio was booked to complete four collections in one go, leaving
smaller projects and subsidiary shoots scattered across other studios.
But this morning, upon arriving at Studio A, the team was met with an
unexpected sight. The main doors were locked with heavy chains, and
a bold vinyl banner hung across the front announcing that the studio
was undergoing renovations. The schedule indicated that it would
remain closed for a full month starting today.
None of the team members had been informed beforehand, and they
stood stunned at the entrance. Today marked the irst day of shooting
promotional photos for the winter collection, with the lead model
Tawan, a rising star and a household name. Mistakes or delays were
simply out of the question.
"What now, Vit?" Trend asked nervously, his face a portrait of worry. He
had only joined Arseny as a photographer a year ago and had not yet
had the chance to make a name for himself.
When Wivit personally recruited him to be the lead photographer for
such an important project, Tren enthusiastically accepted, thrilled by
the opportunity.
Even if the position came with his own body, Tren hadn't regretted
saying yes for a second.
Wivit’s eyebrows furrowed tightly as he tried to process the situation.
He couldn’t get through to his department head, the very person he
had managed to align himself with before this chaos. But now, when a
crisis erupted, they had conveniently disappeared into thin air.
"Vit, the facilities manager said that Studio A is off-limits.
"Emergency renovations. There's no way to open it," one of the team
members reported, having gotten off the phone, Wivit's face darkening
even further at the news.
"Why now? I told you we've booked Studio A for three months.
"Can't you wait until we're done?" His voice was calm, but frustration
was bubbling just beneath the surface. The polite, easy-going smile he
usually wore was nowhere to be found.
The team member hesitated, looking uncomfortable and unsure of
how to delicately break the news.
"It's an order from the president."
Damn!
Wivit ran a hand through his hair, his imitation burning hot as time
slipped by. The session with the actor was scheduled for tomorrow,
and if he couldn't igure this out, they would end up paying overtime
rates.
Worse yet, he would lose face in his irst project as team leader.
"Vit, the facility says there's a study available," another team member
commented hesitantly.

"Which one?!" he asked, hope lickering faintly in his expression. At

this point, he'd take anything.
"Studio Four"
The answer dashed that hope in an instant. Studio Four was old, one of
the original spaces built when the company started. Sure, it wasn’t
completely unusable – the structure was still intact – but the interior
was horribly outdated, lacking modern equipment. It was practically a
glori ied storage room.
That studio was usually reserved for rookies trying out or as a last-
resort location for remote shoots. Hardly anyone chose to work there
anymore.
Biting his teeth, Wivit clenched his ists in frustration, nails digging
into his palms. But after a few moments, he forced a thin smile and
turned back to his team.
There were four studios available in total, and the fourth was the
furthest away. It was relatively small – only about a third of the size of
the one they normally used. Inside, it was spotless and spacious, free
of the clutter I feared.
But it was too empty. The entire studio had nothing but a plain white
backdrop, some basic lights, and an old mid-range camera that had
clearly seen better days.
"Vit, is this really all we have to work with?" the young photographer
complained. He was used to working with state-of-the-art cameras,
editing software, automatic color-adjusting lights, and a full range of
support equipment. To be reduced to just a camera and some dim
lights? Unacceptable!

"We can borrow from the other studios for now," Vit said reassuringly,
affectionately stroking Train's head. He took out his phone and called
the team's deputy leader to coordinate with the other studios.
However, after calling each studio, the answer was the same –
No.
"Mr. Mok ordered all studios to speed up their work. No one is willing
to lend us anything," the deputy leader reported apologetically.
Vit frowned, puzzled. Why the sudden urgency across all departments?
That had never happened before.
"Okay. I'll submit a request for approval of an additional budget," he
replied con idently. His current project was the company's largest.
There was no way he would be denied his budget.
Just ifteen minutes after he had instructed his assistant to prepare the
urgent budget request, his phone rang with bad news – all expense
requests had been frozen.
"Why?" she hissed, suppressing the urge to scream. The studio was
still full of crew members working hard to get the place camera-ready
for the next day.
[ The president ordered all requests for the [marketing department ]
came the hesitant reply from the other end. Vit's chest tightened at
those words, an ominous feeling of dread washing over him.
"The president again?"
[ Apparently the marketing chief is being investigated for accepting
bribes. All documents are temporarily on hold except

for urgent requests, which Mok will personally review before sending
them to the president. ]
What the devil?!
Wivit bit his lip hard, barely holding back a string of curses. Why did
everything have to go wrong at once?
Panic twisted in his chest, bribery investigations? If that's the case, his
past actions might also come to light!
"No problem. Thank you."
After ending the call, his hand gripped the phone so tightly that it
trembled. Scene after scene of what he had done in the past appeared
vividly in his mind, his nerves coiling more tightly with each one. He
was practically vibrating with the urge to storm into the marketing
department and confront the head of marketing right then and there.
Noticing the growing discomfort on his boss's face, Trend walked over.
The young photographer wrapped his slender arms around Vit's,
giving him a little shake with a playful pout.
"Vit. I'll get what I need tomorrow, right?"
Trend's tone was sweetly persuasive, the kind that had always worked
for him. He was used to being pampered, to getting what he wanted
with just a little charm.
But Wivit surprised him by pulling his arm away, not abruptly, but with
enough irritation to do damage.
He already had more than enough on his plate. There was no way he
could deal with anyone else's needs right now. Still, he forced himself
to

keeping up appearances. The "good boss" mask could not be dropped –

not here, not now.
"We'll see tomorrow," he said vaguely, dismissing Train with a tight
smile before turning on his heel and walking away without a second
glance.
He could barely keep his own head above water – how the hell was I
supposed to care about anyone else? What a joke!
"Sounds like great fun!"
Peach said lazily, leaning back in a brightly colored beach chair that
practically screamed “vacation.” Her bare feet were buried in the soft
sand, and the cool ocean breeze kissed her face, leaving a slight salty
stickiness behind. It was annoying but refreshing at the same time.
[Fun? More like a nightmare for me, Peach! But… I can't lying – was
quite satisfying. ] Her younger sister’s voice crackled through the
phone, followed by a mischievous laugh that practically dripped with
arrogance.
Peach frowned. Who the hell taught her sweet little sister to be a
sneak? She almost asked – but then remembered the absolute mess
she had been in two days ago and decided to let it go. Instead, she sat
back with a satis ied smile.
"I bet Tawan's in the clouds," he mused, thinking of the ever-scowling
celebrity who seemed to hate him since the dawn of time. Tawan could
charm anyone with that killer smile – anyone except him. If Peach had
to guess, the guy was probably throwing a private party just to
celebrate not working with him.

[ I was happy at irst ] Plub snorted, sounding completely unimpressed.

I could practically see her pouting on the other end.
[ But after dealing with the new photographer? His good mood lasted
like an hour before he started getting moody. ]
"Newbies are like that," Peach offered with a shrug, though Plub huffed
in frustration.
[ Better keep your phone handy! Work is horrible, and now the The
president is on top of everyone, demanding results as soon as possible.
art team is about to quit. Everyone misses you like crazy.
Honestly, I'm starting to regret letting you go. vacation. ]
Peach laughed, already mentally noting that she would bring souvenirs
for the team.
They were drowning in chaos while he was off the grid living his best
life, after all. A peace offering couldn't hurt.
After surviving the headache-inducing call with Ms.
Ma ia boss and successfully seeing Mr. Thee off back home where he
belonged. Peach's spirits lifted. She inished packing her bag with a
renewed sense of purpose, phone in hand, scrolling through travel
guides.
After some thought, Peach decided she wanted a relaxing trip
somewhere not too far away, just enough to relax for about a week. She
happily pinned places on her map app, planning her route with almost
childlike excitement.
The next morning, she packed up and left her condo. Before she left,
she texted her sister, promising to bring back souvenirs.
She called him right away, sounding excited that he was inally taking
some time off. After reminding him once again

Regarding the souvenirs, he told her to drive carefully and enjoy her
vacation.
He promised that he would do what his sister suggested.
Turning off her internet and putting her phone away in her bag, Peach
allowed herself to enjoy the peaceful surroundings. Normally, she
handled work through chat apps or email. Only close friends or family
had her real phone number.
...Well, maybe I'd make an exception for a certain grumpy mob.
After chatting with her sister for a few more minutes, Peach ended the
call and lazily placed her phone on her stomach. Just as she closed her
eyes, thinking she could take a quick nap, the phone vibrated.
He picked it up, his lips curling into a slight smile. Funny how the
phone rang the second he thought about it.
When he left that morning, he didn't bother to send a message to Mr.
Thee.
Honestly, I didn't see the point. He had already mentioned that he was
going on vacation, not that he was going to disappear off the face of
the earth. Plus, he didn't have any work lined up, so there was no
reason to "check in."
On the second day, Peach inally turned his internet back on, planning
to post some pictures just to let people know he was still alive. That's
when he saw over a hundred noti ications waiting for him.
Two were from his sister. Four were from his team, venting about
work. The remaining cellar messages were from Theerakit Kian
Arseny, the one and only.

Almost ninety messages in two days – what the hell was going through
his head?
Peach wanted to ask, but thought that would only make things worse.
He sighed and began reading through the avalanche of texts instead.
As much as he wanted to complain about the amount of messages,
deep down, he couldn't ind it in himself to be upset.
Despite the over-the-top behavior, there was something sincere about
Thee's efforts – sincere even. Sure, some things were a little excessive,
bordering on ridiculous, but not enough to truly anger him.
With a small nod, Peach responded with a picture of a serene, endless
blue ocean and an adorable sticker. After hitting send, she turned off
her internet again and called her sister. When she received a call while
she was still online, she pointedly ignored it, continuing the
conversation with her sister until they hung up. The phone rang again
almost instantly.
Peach looked at the screen, smiling slightly as she saw Mr. Thee's name
lashing. After a brief pause, she inally accepted the call.
"Hello, Mr. Thee,"
[ Where are you? ] The deep, growling voice on the other end sounded
more like a menacing growl than a question. Peach raised an eyebrow.
If they were face to face, he might have been a little intimidated.
However, over the phone, he found it amusing.
"On the beach, of course," he replied, his tone cheerful,
even playful. "Didn't I tell you I was going on vacation?"
[ …You didn’t respond to my messages. ] The menacing tone in the
mob's voice softened, replaced by something that almost sounded...
rude?

Are you in a bad mood?

"You told me to enjoy my vacation to the fullest, so that's exactly what
I'm doing."
Peach's voice softened unconsciously, taking on a persuasive, almost
mocking tone, though she still didn't know why Thee sounded upset or
why she felt the need to appease him.
Seeing Thee like this was… oddly endearing.
[ …Um ] Thee’s resigned sigh was heard over the phone.
He remained silent for almost a full minute, the only sound being his
steady breathing. Just as he was about to hang up, Thee's voice cut
through the silence:
[ Wait. ] The sharp command sounded almost like a scolding. There
was a faint thumping in the background, as if someone was pacing
back and forth.
[ When are you coming back? It's been three days. ]
"It's only been two. How did you count the days?" Peach corrected with
a laugh.
[ I can ind something for you right now ] Thee replied immediately,
making him laugh even more.
"No thanks. Let me enjoy my trip irst. If anything urgent comes up,
you can drag me back then." He stretched his arms, feeling the pleasant
sensation of relaxation settle into his muscles. The vacation was really
starting to make him too lazy to think about work.
[But traveling alone for too long can be dangerous.] Thee still sounded
grumpy, his frustration barely concealed. [I should have taken time off
to come with you. At least you'd be safe.]

“No way! You have a lot of work to do – you can’t just leave like that.”
Peach immediately dismissed the idea, her tone irm. Taking the mob
on a trip would be the opposite of relaxing. She could already imagine
the army of bodyguards following them around. And she’d probably
end up acting as a personal assistant, catering to Thee’s every whim.
One wrong move, and who knows, she might end up thrown into the
ocean because she’s nearby.
Sure, he liked the ocean – but de initely not the idea of drowning. in it.
[ Why not? Mok could take care of things while I'm away.
No matter where you want to go, I can go with you. Just say the word. Or
if you believe that will be too crowded, we can go to a private island. I
can even buy a new one if you prefer s.]
Peach sighed. Does Mr. Thee ever think like a normal person?
“You have responsibilities, Thee. At least show some consideration for
Mok.” Peach carefully avoided all the meaningless conversation and
focused on the practical point. “That’s all for now – I’m going back to
enjoying my vacation.”
Peach ended the call with a satis ied smile, placing the phone back on
her stomach. She grabbed her straw hat, placed it over her face, and
closed her eyes, letting the soothing sound of the waves wash over her.
The soft smile that lingered on her lips refused to fade.
It really was a good day.

ATTENTION CALL #18

"Are you absolutely sure this is the kind of job you want to present to
me?"
The room seemed to drop a few degrees as the most powerful person
at the table spoke, his tone laced with irritation. His sharp, piercing
gaze remained irm and intimidating, projecting a suffocating pressure
that made everyone hold their breath. Heads instinctively bowed, each
person silently praying not to become the target of that domineering
gaze.
Today was the irst presentation of the Winter Collection, part of the
ongoing project “All Seasons: One Word ”. Just yesterday, promotional
images were published in major fashion magazines, generating an
overwhelmingly positive response. The campaign photos featuring
Aran wearing the Fall Collection products had gone viral on social
media.
Part of the buzz came from Aran's striking appearance in the photos,
mesmerizing and androgynous, combining beauty and charm with an
irresistible touch of mischief. Her captivating presence left people
spellbound. Not only had the magazines sold out, but pre-orders for
the Fall Collection's matching perfume and accessories had reached
record numbers.
For Wivit, who had recently been promoted to team leader, these
glowing reviews were something he accepted with pride, without a
hint of shame. After all, he had been the sub-team leader during the
Fall Collection project, playing a key role throughout it all.
But now the challenge was even greater. Expectations for the Winter
Collection were sky-high.

The ongoing project aimed to tell a story through the brand

ambassador's journey through the seasons, with matching perfumes
and accessories symbolising each phase. With the Fall Collection
setting such a high standard – and teasers already hinting at a follow-
up – People were eagerly awaiting the unveiling of the Winter
Collection with bated breath.
The team hadn't expected the pressure to be so intense that the
company's president himself would show up for an initial meeting. He
was supposed to be sitting comfortably in the executive boardroom
upstairs, waiting for the inal presentation after everything had been
polished – wasn't he?
Theerakit didn’t care what anyone thought. Truth be told, even if he
had been explicitly told to stay away, he would have come down
anyway. He had been suppressing a storm of emotions for days,
bottled up so tightly that he didn’t know where else to direct them.
He wasn't even sure what exactly was bothering him. As a boss, he
tried hard not to take it out on his subordinates, even if those closest
to him could sense the tension radiating off of him like an oppressive
fog.
The young mobster sat with one leg crossed over the other on the
oversized leather chair, one hand holding his chin while the other
rhythmically tapped on the conference table.
The constant drumbeat echoed through the room, matching the frantic
heartbeat of every employee present.
"Did you even look at the photos of the Fall Collection?" His voice cut
through the silence like a blade when no one dared to speak. "What is
this supposed to be? I can't feel any emotion or narrative from these."
images."
I wasn't exaggerating, nor was I trying to be harsh. The photos weren't
bad; they met the technical standards expected of any professional
photographer. But they were absolutely lifeless: bland and forgettable,
lacking the magnetic appeal that had made the last campaign a
success.
"We deeply apologize, CEO. The usual studio was not available, and we
were short of equipment, so the results were worse than the previous
collection..."
"Oh, so now you're saying it's my fault for not passing the budget?"
Thee interrupted coldly, her tone sharp enough to make the air in the
room drop a few more degrees. Vit’s eyes widened and she quickly
shook her head, stumbling over her words to deny it. Theerakit’s lips
curved into a bitter smile, his dark gaze hardening with even more
intensity.
"If the next presentation doesn't show signi icant improvement,
maybe you're not cut out to be a team leader after all."
With that, Theerakit stood up from his chair, ending the tense meeting
on a chilling note. As he walked out, he reached into his pocket, pulling
out his phone to check for messages or missed calls.
Seeing no one, he let out a long, frustrated sigh, his emotions swirling
inside him in a mess he couldn't untangle.
It had been ive days since Peach had left on a solo trip. He had become
completely silent, only replying with a random vacation picture
whenever Theerakit texted him, something that managed to irritate
him even more each time.
He wasn't used to feeling this way. He didn't even understand what this
was.

A few days ago, he had found himself impulsively calling the young
photographer. Peach had answered, her voice muf led by sleep. They
had exchanged only a few words, just enough to con irm that he was
still alive and well, before ending the call.
For the irst time in days, the raging storm inside him had calmed, if
only for a leeting moment.
Now, Thee crossed her arms, her eyes ixed on her phone as if it could
ring through sheer force of will. She had already called Peach once that
morning, asking the same question she had been asking about when
she would be back. As usual, Peach had dodged the question, steering
the conversation toward light chatter before ending the call abruptly.
Theerakit thought about calling again to press for an answer, but
couldn’t bring herself to do so.
Five days...
His brow furrowed in frustration. He couldn't take it anymore. Picking
up the phone, he called his secretary, instructing her to summon Plub
to his of ice immediately. He leaned back and waited. It wasn't long
before the young woman arrived.
He gestured for her to enter, studying her silently as she approached.
Small and slim, she barely reached his chest. Her red-highlighted hair
framed a well-de ined face with sharp, familiar features. The
resemblance to her older brother was unmistakable.
But what stood out most were her big eyes, serene, imperturbable and
completely brave when they met his.
Theerakit was silently, grudgingly impressed. But his voice was all
business when he inally spoke.

"You're Panatchakorn from the Art Department, right? What happened

to the project? Why is the quality so bad?"
"Apologies, CEO. Today's presentation was just a irst draft. The Art
Department hasn't done much retouching work yet, so the photos may
look rough or unpolished. I'm very sorry about that."
"I remember your supervisor told me that the Art Department already
approved it." He raised an eyebrow, surprised that she would admit it
so easily.
“Honestly speaking, editing the raw photos was harder than expected.
The iles weren’t color corrected or adjusted in any way. So we had to
start from scratch. With our team handling multiple magazine
projects, we simply couldn’t meet the deadline. I’m so sorry.” Plub
pressed her lips together. She was direct by nature, honest to a fault,
even if she was a little intimidated by the man towering before her.
There was something else I hadn't mentioned: the team was used to
Peach's photos, which were usually edited in some way.
This time, having to adjust everything themselves disrupted their
entire schedule.
“I’m not blaming you,” Theerakit interrupted when he saw her lower
her head in apology. He paused brie ly, hesitating. His voice softened
unconsciously. “Did your brother mention when he’ll be back?”
Plub was taken aback. There was something oddly personal about the
way he asked, a strange undercurrent she couldn't quite put her inger
on.
Pushing the thought aside, he answered truthfully.
“He didn't say anything. He's been thinking about taking a long trip for
a while now.”

time, but the work kept piling up. Now that you're inally on vacation, I
assume you plan to be away for a while.”
Theerakit's gaze shifted, a lash of disappointment crossing his face
before he could suppress it. Still, something in him silently registered
her words. He should let Peach take more breaks from work.
But the thought of not hearing from him, even for less than a week, had
him already restless and nervous. He hated feeling like this. He never
wanted to feel like this again.
Next time, I would go with him.
Resolute in his decision, the young mobster straightened his back,
pushing away those rebellious thoughts. He turned his attention back
to his subordinate.
Plub stood frowning in front of Thee's desk, clearly deep in thought.
Whatever was on her mind didn't interest her in the slightest. With a
dismissive wave of her hand, she waved Thee back to work, offering no
explanation.
After a brief moment of hesitation, Thee picked up his phone and
called Mok, issuing additional orders.
"Tell Wivit I want another round of project reviews in three days.
"The next installment better be a major improvement," he said, his
voice calm but irm. A slight smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
"Remember, the photos of the entire collection were exceptional. I
expect that level of quality again... from the same photographer."
A little extra pressure should speed things up.
………………..

Meanwhile, Peach had been beach-hopping for ive days straight,

enjoying the sun and sea until the salt practically covered her skin. It
was the longest vacation she had ever taken. On the morning of the
sixth day, after buying souvenirs for everyone, she inally got into her
car and headed back to Bangkok.
He had already sent a message to Plub about his return. As for Mr.
Thee, as she had called him that morning, Peach thought there was no
need to message him again.
Since that particular phone call, the young mobster seemed to have
had a sudden epiphany – he could call every day . After that, Peach’s
phone would ring like clockwork. Sometimes it was just a brief
exchange, barely a few words before the call ended, as if Thee just
needed to hear his voice.
Even with the daily calls, Thee's messages kept coming in on the chat
app. Every time Peach went online to upload vacation photos, there
was a new batch of noti ications waiting for him.
I wasn't exactly upset – but I was curious. What does Mr.
Thee?
Despite his brilliance, Thee's thought process could be strange at
times, so much so that Peach never bothered to try to understand him.
Normally, he would have just asked directly, but since it didn't seem
like a big deal, he let Thee do as she pleased.
After a quick roadside lunch on that sixth day, his phone started
ringing again.
The unfamiliar number lashing on her phone didn't faze Peach; she
already had a good idea who it could be. A sly smile and

mischievousness spread across her face as she let the phone ring a few
more times before inally answering.
"Peachayarat speaking."
[ This is Wivit, team leader of Arseny's project. ]
"Oh, Mr. Wivit! How may I help you?" Peach replied in a deliberately
neutral tone, though his face betrayed how amused he really was.
[…]
There was nothing but tense silence on the other end. Peach could
hear Wivit breathing heavily, clearly still on the line, but struggling to
ind the right words. Her smile widened a little more.
I didn't hate Wivit – but right now, this was just too satisfying.
"If there's nothing important, I'll hang up."
[ Wait! ] Wivit snapped, panicking. After a brief pause, he inally
managed to [ As long as I wanted to offer you, I'd hire you back for
overseeing the "All Seasons: One Word" project, would you be available ?
Peach rolled her eyes silently. Same old Wtvir.
Always obsessed with saving face, pretending that nothing ever
happened, as if they had never faced each other before, required a
certain level of audacity.
If Wivit was willing to swallow his pride and make this decision, he
must have been under a lot of pressure.
Did Mr. Thee pull some strings behind the scenes?

"I seem to recall you clearly stating that you no longer needed a part-
time photographer. Didn't you already have a full-time photographer
lined up?" Peach replied softly, her voice illed with mocking
politeness.
[ Well... the president is really stepping on our necks... And the new full-
time photographer is still pretty green. You may not can keep up. ]
"My goodness, that sounds awfully inconvenient," Peach said with
exaggerated sympathy, her tone as insincere as could be. She could tell
that Wivit picked up on the sarcasm.
Peach heard the faint sound of teeth grinding along the line, which
made Wivit's next sentence even more icy: [So,
Will you take the job or not? If it's about money, just say it. I can talk to
the president and arrange something.
“Don’t make it sound like you’re trying to buy me off. As one of the
country’s top photographers, I barely have a bit of money.” Peach
replied, his tone silky yet sharp. It wasn’t like him to brag, but watching
Wivit squirm was highly entertaining. He added casually, “I haven’t
taken on any new projects yet, but last time you kicked me out.”
Showing up and asking to rejoin your team out of the blue... that might
seem a little desperate, don't you think?
The sound of teeth grinding came back this time harsher, angrier.
Peach could practically feel Wivit's frustration seeping through the
phone, causing her smile to widen.
[...Mr. Peachayarat... Would you please... go back and take care of the "All
Seasons: One Word" project... ] There was a brief, tortured pause, as if he
were summoning up every ounce of pride he had left. [ …Please ]

Peach's smile grew so wide it almost hurt. She barely managed to

suppress a laugh, clearing her throat as her eyes sparkled with
triumph.
"Well, since you're begging so politely – and we go back a long way – I'll
take the job," he replied with feigned reluctance. "But this time, I'll
have to read the contract irst. You know, with the cost of living going
up and all, someone needs to cover that."
Without waiting for a reply, he ended the call, feeling more energetic
than ever. With a satis ied hum, he started the car and headed back to
Bangkok, completely satis ied.
Supply and demand baby.

ATTENTION CALL #19

Peach returned that afternoon, feeling refreshed after six days on the
run.
Once he unpacked, he called Tawan's manager to schedule a new shoot
for the next day.
Tawan's contract already covered the possibility of an extra day of
ilming, though usually only one was allotted. If things went wrong
again, Peach would have to cover the damage himself, not to mention
the serious damage it could do to the company's reputation. It
wouldn't be a complete disaster, but it was de initely something he
wanted to avoid.
The next morning, Peach stood outside Studio 4 with her trusty camera
slung over one shoulder and a messenger bag packed with essentials.
His usual relaxed working style was on full display – there was nothing
out of the ordinary. What was unusual, however, was the imposing
igure standing stif ly beside him. Arms crossed lightly exuding a slight
aura of authority and tension. You hadn’t taken your eyes off Peach for
even a second.
“Do you want me to open Studio A for you?” The CEO offered seriously,
his brow furrowed in concern. “Should I order more equipment? I can
have it rushed over right now.”
"No, thanks," Peach dismissed the suggestion instantly,
her tone irm. "Just having you here talking to me makes
me a target."
He could practically feel the curious gazes burning into him. Even
though those gazes were illed more with concern and sympathy than
jealousy, they still made him feel uncomfortable.

Their conversation was kept low, ensuring that no one else could listen
in. From an outsider's perspective, all they saw was the serious,
authoritative-looking CEO giving brief, precise instructions.
Standing next to the photographer was the much smaller
photographer, who barely reached his shoulder. Peach wore a slight,
uneasy smile, clearly worried about the situation. Given the explosive
incident at the last meeting, all the onlookers naturally assumed that
the CEO was there to intimidate the young photographer.
You were used to being under a watchful eye, though this time, most of
the gazes weren't directed at him but at the man beside him. He'd
been in a good mood after seeing Peach irst thing in the morning, but
now irritation was simmering beneath the surface.
Meanwhile, Peach, much less accustomed to being the center of
attention, felt more and more uncomfortable by the second.
“I don’t want you to ight.” The mob muttered in clear disapproval. He
had already done a lot to pressure Wivit and he didn’t see why Peach
should suffer for it as well, but the smaller man shook his head irmly.
Peach not only looked unfazed, but there was a spark of excitement in
her eyes as well.
"People will think I'm using connections," Peach shrugged, her smile
widening playfully, "I've been pushed around before, so I'm not about
to stoop to the same level. Besides..." Her eyes twinkled mischievously,
"Don, don't you think this makes things a little more… exciting?"
Thee's intense gaze softened upon seeing that smile, and the heavy
atmosphere that had been radiating seemed to ease. Everyone around
them could inally breathe a little easier. Her face

Sharp and stoic, he seemed to contain even the slightest hint of a

smile, though it was barely noticeable.
“I trust in your abilities,” she replied evenly, though Peach could sense
her mood lifting. After exchanging a few brief gestures with others on
set, Thee turned and left, allowing the tense air around the studio to
completely dissipate.
When things returned to normal, familiar faces from the team came
over to pat Peach on the shoulder in support. Some even offered words
of encouragement, though she couldn't quite igure out why.
He accepted them with a polite smile, still bewildered. Even Plub came
over with teary eyes and wrapped him in a tight witch-like grip,
whispering iercely. “Stay strong, okay?” before biting his lip to hold
back a sob.
What the hell is going on now?
Peach wondered, but didn't bother asking. Time was running out, so
focus on getting the studio ready. She'd brought a small string of fairy
lights to enhance the ambiance of the room, along with some sheer
fabric she'd borrowed from the art department, ready to work her
creative magic.
The main reason Peach refused to change studios was that she felt that
forcing the other side like this would be applying too much pressure. If
she went back and demanded a bigger studio, it would lead to endless
comparisons and accusations of favoritism. Honestly, just knowing
what she would be up against beforehand already felt like cheating.
If he wanted Wivit to accept defeat fairly, the only way was to ight on
the same playing ield.
Before long the young actor arrived. His long legs carried him into the
studio, a scowl plastered on his handsome, sharp face. However, when
his gaze fell on the familiar photographer behind the camera, his scowl
seemed to relax a little, only to furrow again in irritation a moment
later.
Peach shook her head, practically listening to the storm of thoughts
swirling around in the actor's mind. She sometimes wondered if
people who were madly in love were inherently irrational.
Could you please just listen to reason for once?
Discarding that thought, he turned his attention back to the task at
hand. Today was his only chance – half a day, to be exact. There was no
room for mistakes.
The shoot went off without a hitch. The photos came out just as I had
imagined and within two hours the job was done.
As he reviewed the inal shots with his camera, he let one of the
assistants escort Tawan back into his street clothes. He was so
engrossed in reviewing the images that he didn't notice the shadow
creeping into his light until it completely blocked the screen.
Looking up, he found himself face to face with a small, fair-skinned
young man with wide, bright eyes and an irresistibly cute face. If
Arseny was the de inition of beautiful, this boy was adorable.
There was just one problem: Peach was almost certain that this was
Wivit's new full-time photographer – the one hired to replace him.
And for the life of him, he couldn't understand why the guy was
standing there smiling at him, his eyes practically shining like stars.
What was even more disconcerting was that the kid greeted him loudly
right there,

in front of the entire crew. Everyone still in the studio knew exactly
who he was and why he was there. So… what was he supposed to do?
what did this mean?
“Hello! My name is Trend.” The young man bowed politely, his
respectful demeanor making it impossible for Peach to ignore him.
"Peach." He nodded, keeping it short. Judging by the boy's baby face, he
was probably younger. Still, Peach remained on guard; she had no idea
if this approach was friendly or something more calculated.
After all, Tren was on Wivit's team. Peach had been removed from the
project halfway through, her name erased and replaced.
Expecting this sudden greeting to be pure and innocent felt... naive.
"I've heard a lot about you, Peach," Trend said, using the respectful
Thai pre ix for a senior, "I couldn't miss the chance to see you work in
person today. Like a junior trying to learn how to drive. I hope I don't
bother you." He tilted his head with a charming, adorable smile, but
Peach only felt tenser.
Honestly, dealing with Wivit's obvious hostility would have been
easier than facing a smile he couldn't stand.
He forced a stiff smile in return, but said nothing. Tren, seemingly
unfazed, took a breath and stepped closer. Cradling his neck to look at
the camera hanging around Peach's neck. "Wow! These shots are
amazing! Totally out of my league."
Peach frowned and instinctively took a step back. She hated it when
people she didn't trust entered her personal space. Even with Arseny,
whom she considered family, she kept some boundaries, this was far
from okay.

"They'd look clearer on the computer," he muttered, taking another

step back.
His shoulders felt stiff and his grip on the camera was shaking slightly.
Trend chuckled awkwardly before changing to check the pictures on
the computer. His eyes sparkled with admiration, though a lash of
envy crossed his face.
Peach, very attuned to people's emotions, could tell that Trend's
astonishment was genuine, but so was the underlying disgust. So
when the other party turned back with another bright, innocent smile,
Peach only felt more uneasy.
“They’re really impressive, even unedited,” Trend exhaled in awe,
clearly mesmerized by the images. “I always wanted to be a
photographer. I got straight A’s in school, but once I graduated… it’s
been tough.”
“You majored in photography,” Peach inally replied, keeping the
conversation going now that Trend had retreated to the computer
screen. He still felt awkward, but he couldn’t help but be curious about
Tren’s motives.
“Yes! I graduated in Communication Arts, with a minor in
Photography.” Trend’s proud smile widened. “Where did you graduate
from?”
Peach's brow twitched slightly, her eyes narrowing as the pieces began
to fall into place.
"I didn't specialize in this."
"Really? You're so talented. I thought you must have studied
photography!" Trend exclaimed with what seemed like genuine
surprise, his expression so perfectly innocent it almost seemed
calculated. "I

I was wondering why you weren't hired full-time here. You're so good...
how could Vit let someone like you get away?"
Peach calmly picked up her camera, then crossed her arms and leaned
casually against the edge of the table. Her lips stretched into a wol ish
grin, the kind that would make her little sister scream in horror, not
joy.
What a horrible smile.
“I’m pretty picky about what work I take on. Freelancing is nice—you
can choose which jobs to take on. You don’t need to take orders from
anyone.” Peach shrugged casually. Her tone was light, free of tension.
“And honestly, no one’s ever asked me about my degree or my GPA
when I’m working. But it’s a shame. I graduated with a degree in
German Studies with honors, but I can never brag about it.”
He paused brie ly, then added with a slight smile, "But as you said, this
job is about skills, not quali ications, right?"
The smaller boy's cheeks lushed a deep pink, his delicate hands
clenched into ists. His large eyes glistened with unshed tears, making
him look so pitiful that anyone who looked at him would think Peach
was bullying some helpless newbie. Peach's smile widened a little, his
eyes curving into something dangerously gentle.
Slowly, he raised one hand and gently wiped a tear from Trend's
lushed cheek with the tip of his soft, almost tender inger.
He was not simply a self-taught photographer feeling his way through
the trade. If this was a game of make-believe, Trend arrived years too
late to even attempt to match his skill.

"I know you're upset, but don't worry. Photography is all about
practice. Your work isn't bad, it just has room to grow."
Peach's voice softened into something warm and reassuring.
designed to attract sympathy from the onlookers who were now
casting worried glances at them. Peach reached out and gently shook
his trembling hand. Her soft smile twitched for only a second, but
remained irm.
"If you ever want some advice, don't hesitate to ask me. I'll be happy to
help."
She barely inished her sentence when a sudden sharp pain shot
through her wrist. Her entire body was yanked backwards, causing her
to stumble until her head collided with something solid – a warm,
unyielding wall that shouldn’t have been there. Blinking in confusion,
Peach struggled to regain her bearings. She looked down at the iron
grip holding her wrist, ingers strong and unforgiving. Slowly, her gaze
traveled up from the sleeve of the black suit stretched over irm
muscles to a chiseled face twisted into a ierce scowl, dark eyes
burning with barely contained anger. Only then did she realize that the
“wall” was the young mobster. Landing so close that their bodies were
almost touching.
Thee's brow furrowed into a hard line, her expression radiating such
intense disgust that Peach momentarily forgot how to react.
Despite the tight grip, there was no real pain, just a irm restraint, as if
taking care not to hurt him while simultaneously making escape
impossible. After what seemed like an eternity, Theo’s icy gaze shifted
to Tren, pinning the smaller man down with a gaze so frigid it could
have frozen anyone in place. Cold, calculating, and completely devoid
of warmth, it held an unspoken threat that made Tren’s breath catch.

“What’s going on here?” Thee’s low, steady voice cut through the air
like a sword, its deadly calm charged with intimidating pressure.
Trend’s mouth opened as if to stammer out an excuse, but fear rooted
him in place. He couldn’t speak…he couldn’t even think. All he wanted
to do was rant.
As tension rose around her, Peach simply stared at you with an
expression of pure bewilderment, completely unfazed by the sti ling
atmosphere. Inwardly, she couldn’t help but wonder: What the hell
happened to her this time?
He was still scared. He looked like he might kill him in a it of rage.
But the hand gripping her wrist, though strong, was careful, deliberate.
Reassurance iltered through him, silently whispering that things were
still under control, even if he didn't know what had triggered Thee's
sudden outburst.
"Mr. Thee, calm down, okay?" Peach gently rested her ingers on the
back of Thee's hand, still gripping his wrist. "Is there something
bothering you?"
Thee’s sharp gaze returned to him. Peach cocked her head, genuinely
puzzled. The mob boss let out a low, throaty chuckle before asking
coldly. “Shouldn’t I ask what you two were doing? Getting so close… Do
you have no shame?”
Peach stared back at him, expressionless. The words seemed like
something out of a bad soap opera. She decided to let it go and answer
only what seemed important.
“I was just giving some photography tips to a young man in the
countryside,” he explained, stopping to look around. They were
de initely drawing attention again – thanks to Ti’s looming presence,
practically piling him on in front of everyone. Peach sighed inwardly
and shifted gears. “You came because you wanted to see.”

the photos, right?" he offered softly. "Why don't you have a seat while I
go get them for you?"
Without waiting for a response, Peach gently released his wrist, her
large, pleading eyes shining with practiced charm. He hesitated brie ly
before her grip loosened and she let him go. Peach gave a small,
respectful nod and turned around, walking back to the young, full-time
photographer.
Trend was still in front of the same computer, his hands clenched into
ists, though his eyes were practically glowing with determination.
Peach watched for a moment before taking a step closer and clearing
her throat to snap Trend out of his thoughts.
The smaller one forked slightly and quickly turned around. The forced,
fake smile he had shown earlier had long since disappeared, though
there was still a slight tremor in his body. His eyes were lively.
Peach realized that she really loved photography.
"A photographer's weapon... is the camera. The irst thing you must
master is to know your weapon inside out," Peach said quietly, almost
as if he were talking to himself.
He felt ridiculous, like a guardian spirit, but he went ahead anyway.
"It's true that expensive weapons are of better quality. But if you don't
know your own weapon, don't understand what it's capable of, you
won't be able to use it effectively, even if it's divine-level."
Trend's trembling had vanished, replaced by a sharp determination
that lit up his eyes, his composure snapping back into place like a
sword drawn from its sheath.

"It's not just about reading the manufacturer's manual. True

understanding comes from practical experience. You need to know
what works and what doesn't - that's what really matters."
Peach let out a small sigh, brushing back her already messy short hair,
making it even more unruly. “After that, it all comes down to
experience. I’ll post the photography program on the team board.”
You can come by if you want to see it, but just so you know, I won't sit
there and teach you. Find out for yourself."
Trend's head snapped back. His eyes were shining with renewed
determination, though his lips were still pressed together as if holding
back a lood of emotions. Peach saw the ire burning there and decided
enough was enough. She turns away, completely ignoring the smaller
man. She could tell that Trend loved photography, but where that
passion would lead from now on was entirely up to him.
However, when Peach turned around, he froze. Standing motionless
was the mob, the imposing mob boss who, instead of retreating to the
couch as he had suggested earlier, was now standing with his arms
crossed, staring at him. He was still within reach of his hand, those
long limbs ready to grab him in a second if he so desired.
Great, I just inished one problem – now on to the next one.

ATTENTION CALL #20

He couldn't for the life of him igure out what had set you off this time.
He seemed in a good mood this morning before he left for work, so
what the hell had happened to put him in such a bad mood all of a
sudden? She wondered if Bat didn't dare ask. The last thing she wanted
was to poke the bear and make things worse.
“Mr. Thee, did you come here because you needed something from
me?” Peach asked, diverting the conversation as she subtly led them
away from the curious onlookers. The way You stood there, arms
crossed and face dark with irritation, had already caused the young
men to work themselves into a frenzy, heads down and ingers lying
over the keyboards as if their lives depended on it.
Even Peach couldn't help but feel like she was offering herself to the
devil.
“What? This is my studio. I can go wherever the hell I want,” Thee
snapped, her arms tightening over her chest. Her displeasure was
abundantly clear. But when Peach moved in, she followed you without
hesitation, keeping you close enough that her long arms could reach
out if needed.
Peach let out another sigh. They clearly needed to have a serious
conversation. If she kept acting like this, they wouldn’t get anywhere.
Turning completely to face him, Peach leveled her back with a calm
and irm gaze, and asked evenly. “Mr. Thee, are you… angry with me
about something?”
Thee frowned, still looking like he was going to explode again, but
when his eyes met Peach's calm, unwavering gaze, something in him
seemed to de late. The stormy tension surrounding him slowly faded
away.

“I’m not mad at you,” you said, your voice softening and the furrow in
your brow creasing. Peach had no idea what caused the sudden change
in mood, but if Thee was calming down, she wasn’t going to complain.
Her own shoulders relaxed and a soft, warm smile spread across her
face, her eyes softening into crescent moons.
Finally! The possessed demon seemed to have left the building.
You stiffened, your eyes widening slightly before you quickly looked
away, leaving only a faint pink tint creeping up the tips of your cars.
Peach blinked, bewildered, but decided not to press.
As long as Thee wasn't nervous, that was enough for him.
"Don't be so... nice," the young mobster muttered after a moment, his
voice low and almost too soft to hear. "You don't have to be nice to
people who have been terrible to you."
"But technically, I was also terrible to him. He took my name off the
project and put his own on it. So, I made sure I had to take his name
and beg him to put mine back on." Peach replied with a slight shrug.
She was speaking matter-of-factly.
Peach wasn't the type to hold grudges. In fact, he was the classic
introvert – reserved, quiet, and drama-averse. He usually let things
slide unless absolutely necessary.
But after being screwed by Wivit one too many times, even he couldn't
just turn the other cheek.
Seeing that Thee seemed to be back to normal, Peach returned to the
question that had been bothering him from the beginning. "So... why
did you come here? Did you need something from me?"
Please don't say you're here to harass me about deadlines...

Therekit's expression went blank for a second, as if he had completely

forgotten his original reason. Then he cleared his throat and got to the
point.
"There's a company event tonight – a party celebrating how the Falcon
Collection broke its previous sales record. We've invited several media
outlets," she paused, looking a little...
awkward. "Do you want to... come with me?"
Peach raised an eyebrow and pulled out her phone to check her emails.
Her brow furrowed slightly as she walked forward. “I didn’t get an
invitation email. Am I supposed to go?”
“It was… a mix-up.” Thee’s face hardened again, serious, but clearly
uncomfortable. “The team sent out invitations to all the participants in
the project, but… there was a bit of a mess at the time, so the email…
was never sent to you.”
Peach nodded slightly, understanding the situation. Given the recent
ordeal of having her name removed from the project list.
HR should have sent the invitation based on the updated list, leaving
your name out entirely.
“Alright. Let Trend go in my place.” But the scowl on Thee’s face only
deepened, turning into a picture of de iance.
Clearly he didn't agree with that idea.
"Do you want to go? I can add your name."
"No, thank you." Peach's reply came without hesitation, her expression
unreadable.
"You don't want to go after those people, do you? I can get that jerk's
name removed if it bothers you."

"You can't do that." Peach sighed. "He's the leader of the project. If you
remove him from the list, it will cause even more rumors for the press
to write about."
"Then come with me."
"No way. I hate parties." Her refusal was irm, accompanied by a look of
disinterest and sleepy eyes. "Besides, I have work to inish tonight. I'm
not going to waste my time on a pointless event."
The moment Peach rejected him, the mob's expression darkened
again, his sharp features tightening with something almost predatory.
His gaze narrowed and the air grew thick with intensity.
like a beast sizing up its prey.
“What kind of ‘job’? Are you meeting someone else?” His voice dropped
dangerously low, a lurking edge vibrating in the back of his throat. “You
dare reject me… for someone else? You’ve got some guts,
Peachayarat.”
Peach was stunned into silence. Only coming back to reality when You
took a decisive step forward, closing the space between them.
Instinctively, Peach brought a hand to her face, sti ling a groan of
frustration.
For the irst time, he seriously considered screaming into his own
palm. Peach took a deep, steadying breath, lowering his hand and
meeting Thee's intense gaze in silent exasperation. He wasn't about to
be intimidated by this absurd possessiveness.
"Calm down, Mr. Thee. I told you I have work, not a date." His voice was
irm, no trace of fear despite Thee's imposing posture. "And that 'work'
It turns out to be his project. Did you forget about tomorrow's
meeting? You asked for

review progress in the evening. If I don't stay up all night, the art team
won't have the revisions ready in time."
Thee stood still, her clenched jaw loosening as she realized. Her frown
faded, replaced by a lash of satisfaction.
But despite regaining his composure, he made no move to step back.
Peach shifted, uncomfortable with the sudden closeness. Just as she
was about to take a step back, Thee's large hand encircled her wrist,
irm but not harsh.
"It's past noon. Have you eaten yet?" the young mobster asked quietly,
her thumb absentmindedly brushing the inside of Peach's wrist. "You
have stomach problems. You need to eat on time."
Caught off guard by the sudden change of topic, Peach allowed herself
to follow him softly, realizing what was happening only when they
were already halfway out of the studio. Following them, Thee's
secretary had carefully packed Peach's bag and equipment.
making sure that nothing was left behind.
Mok, Thee's right-hand man, shouted orders to another bodyguard to
leave Peach's belongings in the black European car parked in the
underground garage. Before Peach could protest, Thee opened the car
door and irmly guided him inside.
He's just supposed to open the door... How did this turn into being
pushed into the car?
She sighed internally but didn't complain. A delicious, free meal in
exchange for being "kidnapped" didn't seem like the worst deal. Peach
leaned back in the plush leather seat and allowed herself to relax. Her
lips curved into a slight, satis ied smile.

Strange... When had her fear of the mob boss sitting next to her faded
away to nothing more than quiet comfort?
Since Peach had asked for someplace close to the of ice, explaining
that she needed to report to the art team again in the afternoon so that
she could work smoothly tonight.
The young mob complied without a word of protest. After parking at a
large shopping mall nearby, Thee led the way inside.
With his tall, broad frame and long, purposeful strides, Thee naturally
pulled ahead of Peach, whose height was above average but still
couldn't compete with Thee's pace.
However, Peach made no effort to catch up. Lunch breaks were
supposed to be relaxing, not a race.
Besides, it wasn't like he was going to get lost. The imposing mob boss
stood out like a beacon in the crowd, and his strong presence was
enhanced by the two bodyguards following him. Peach could see Ham
clearly even from behind. Realizing that he was leaving Peach behind,
Thee looked back, slowed her steps, and adjusted her pace to match
Peach's.
That subtle act of consideration brought a slight, strange warmth to
her chest.
"What are you in the mood for?" he asked, scanning the restaurant
signs with a frown. "Looks like everything is full."
"It's past 1:00 pm, still the lunch rush hour," Peach replied with a shrug.
The restaurants were packed with people at that time of day.

days were normal for him. For Thee, who probably frequented private
dining rooms at fancy restaurants, it was a different story.
The young photographer's eyes scanned the options, looking for
somewhere with a short wait. They both had work waiting for them at
the of ice.
Besides, the CEO besides him would de initely have a large volume of
tasks piled up. He had been locked in his of ice for only three hours
and judging by the exhausted expression on his secretary's face when
they emerged, the workload must have been anything but light.
After scanning around, his eyes landed on a bright green sandwich
shop that stood out. It was the famous place with six-foot-long bread
and fully customizable illings.
Fast, convenient and portable - perfect for capturing a site without
wasting time. Better yet, there was no queue.
Without a word, he grabbed Thee's chest and pulled him into the shop.
The taller man followed without resistance, making it seem almost too
easy. Before long, they were standing in front of the sandwich shop.
“Have you tried this place before?” Peach asked, her eyes lighting up as
she pointed at the menu. “It’s so good! I order it all the time when I’m
working late. You can eat it with one hand – it’s got everything: bread,
vegetables, meat, and it tastes delicious.”
He looked at the menu with interest, his professional concentration
piqued at the mention of Peach's enthusiasm. It was as if he were
evaluating a potential investment. Peach ordered his usual mix of
sliced chicken, ham and bacon, topped with extra cheese and turned to
Thee, who was standing there with a slight frown, clearly lost. In the
end, Thee gave in and let Peach order for him.

Peach happily picked out a large steak and cheese sandwich for you,
and added a tuna sandwich for the assistant waiting nearby.
Once they had their food, Peach folded the wrapper and took a big bite,
her cheeks puf ing out slightly as she chewed.
She walked over leisurely. The sandwich lifted her spirits. Looking at it,
You did the same, after her irst bite. Thee's expression changed to
mild surprise: she hadn't expected something so affordable to taste so
good.
They walked a little further, inishing their sandwiches bite by bite.
Once the crumb was gone, they returned to the car. Despite the traf ic,
Mok managed to get his boss and the photographer back to the of ice
on time. Peach asked if they could stop by the parking lot on the other
side to drop it off; the meeting materials were still in her car, which
was parked in the general lot, while the executive spaces were in an
upper-level lot on the opposite side.
Peach got out of the car and turned to thank them with her usual
politeness.
But just as Mok was about to walk away, Peach yelled at him to stop
and wait a moment.
The young photographer rushed to his car, almost running. After
rummaging through the trunk for a few seconds, he returned with a
large package of three- lavored crunchy squid snacks.
"Mr. Mok, this is for you. This brand is amazing. Great to eat while
working." Peach said, handing the large package of squid snacks to
Thee's secretary with a wide smile. He gave a small nod in thanks,
turned on his heel, and headed into the building, heading towards the
art department to meet his younger sister in the Art Department with
another large bag of goodies.

Meanwhile, Theerakit narrowed his eyes and a faint air of displeasure

began to seep in. His gaze ixed on the bag of squid snacks in Mok’s
hands, unwavering. Sensing trouble, Mok quickly stuffed the package
into his bag.
"Boss, he doesn't even like spicy food, let alone squid."
Mok pointed out, keeping his tone neutral. He was internally
screaming in protest; how could the young mobster even consider
snatching away his favorite snack when he clearly didn’t enjoy it? But
the oppressive aura radiating from the mob boss showed no signs of
dissipating.
“There will be no bonuses this year,” Thee casually remarked, folding
her arms and turning her face away, radiating icy indifference. The
young secretary gaped. He desperately wanted to point out that Peach
had just carried a huge bag of snacks upstairs for the art team. Why
was he the only one punished here? But in the end, he could only
swallow his frustration along with his unshed tears.
Being a secretary was an unfortunate job.

.......... .

More iles here

ATTENTION CALL #21

Theerakit Kian Arseny, the half-Russian ma ia heir turned luxury
tycoon, had built an empire in the world of perfumes and jewellery. His
fame was not just due to his striking good looks or his unfathomable
wealth; it was the enigmatic allure he carried – an irresistible
magnetism that drew people in wherever he went.
But tonight’s gala was different. The usual air of untouchable
arrogance that surrounded him had turned into something far more
chilling – a cold, cutting aura that made the room feel ten degrees
colder. Tension rolled off him in waves so intense that no one dared
come within a hundred-meter radius.
Speculation ran wild, desperately trying to igure out what had gone
wrong – what could have caused the young mob boss to radiate such
simmering discontent. His barely contained irritation created an
oppressive atmosphere that made even the boldest journalists think
twice. Sure, they were hungry for a headline, but no story was worth
risking their lives for.
Who would have guessed that his furious imitation came from
something as ridiculous as...
a lost bag of spicy, crispy calamari?
He let out a long, frustrated sigh, the lingering annoyance still churning
in his chest. He was rarely one to get worked up about anything. In fact,
emotions had always seemed distant and irrelevant to him – neither
warmth nor bitterness could touch him.
He wasn't numb, just... empty. Separated. The only softness he ever felt
was reserved for his family, the only ones who could stir some
tenderness in him. The outside world had never managed to provoke a
single tremor in his carefully guarded heart.

However, now... a lost bag of squid was enough to put him in a bad
mood.
Accepting a glass of wine from a passing waiter, Thee gently swirled
the crimson liquid, letting its aroma unfold before taking a slow sip.
His gaze drifted to the stage, where models were displaying Falk’s
latest collection of perfumes and jewelry. He felt utterly bored.
Wivit took the stage and introduced the project as the team leader
after delivering the opening speech. Behind him, the screen showed
the Fall Collection – a captivating image of Aran in a lowing suit, her
wrist adorned with a striking rose gold bracelet.
His expression was perfectly serene, his gaze steady and unreadable.
But then, his eyes fell on a familiar, elegant signature etched discreetly
in the corner of the picture. His gaze softened.
Oddly enough, the model's alluring beauty, something that had once
fascinated him, paled in comparison to the allure of that small, family-
run irm.
The young ma ia boss lowered his eyes slightly. This was not the irst
time his heart was still and cautious. Apart from his family, he had
never cared deeply about anyone else.
But Peach... Peach made him feel at peace, a calming presence that
enveloped his restless mind. With Peach, he felt safe, free to be his true
self without fear of being betrayed or hurt.
That unexpected warmth blossomed within his chest, sweet and
comforting.
It was something he wasn't willing to let go of now, a feeling that grew
stronger with each passing day.

He wanted Peach to see only him, care only about him, and stay close
enough to reach him.
The intensity of that need increased, coming dangerously close to the
surface.
A sudden burst of applause brought you out of your thoughts. You
looked up to see Wivit standing proudly on the stage, his chest puffed
out and a triumphant smile on his face. Thee’s expression darkened
and the cold edge returned to her gaze. The brief softness in her
features vanished like a passing breeze.
Peach might be shy, she might push and pull enough to tense up. But
not with him. Never with him.
The darkness swirling in Theerakit's eyes dimmed only when the
secretary approached, breaking the tense atmosphere, though his
frown deepened further.
"Boss, why don't you eat something?" The secretary offered a plate of
food and skillfully took the wine glass from Thee's hand. "Drinking
wine on an empty stomach will make you drunk."
"Bring him the spicy calamari."
"You don't eat squid, boss," Mok insisted irmly, his voice steady,
though he lied through his teeth without the slightest hint of guilt.
"Whether I eat it or not is my business – but I want it"
"Maybe you should tell Peach directly that you're angry that she didn't
bring you a souvenir."

Mok sighed, genuinely regretting the crispy squid he still kept in his
own bag. Theerakit crossed his arms, raising his chin slightly, his pride
practically tangible.
"Why should I beg for a cheap sandwich?"
As he said this, he questioned himself. He didn't like squid.
He hated spicy food. And that was just a common snack, easy to ind
anywhere. Why was he so upset about something so trivial?
His lips pressed into a thin line as he dismissed the irritation boiling
inside him. He wasn't about to waste time analyzing his emotions...
not now.
As the young mobster struggled with his thoughts, he failed to notice
the sly, mischievous glint lighting up Mok's eyes as his assistant
offered him a deceptively sweet smile.
"If it was a gift from Mr. Aran, would you still be this upset, boss?"
Theerakit stiffened. He had almost forgotten that name, but hearing it
now brought back an image of Aran’s impossibly perfect face from a
previous promotional shoot. Strangely, he felt nothing. Just a faint,
distant memory, like an old photograph he had stopped looking at a
long time ago.
He realized that his interest had faded so completely that even
thinking about Aran seemed useless.
But then… Another face emerged – Peach’s. That quiet smile, her
cheeks puffed out a little from biting into an overstuffed sandwich. The
sheen of tears sliding down her face like falling gems.

Peach wasn't conventionally beautiful, not like Arseny was. But

something about him made Theerakit's heart twist in a way she
couldn't explain.
Mok, noticing his boss was lost in thought, smiled even wider, unable
to resist twisting the knife a little further. "That's called being
possessive, boss."
At that instant, Mok noticed his boss's ears turning bright red. The
sharp, intimidating eyes widened slightly in surprise.
“Ridiculous!” Theerakit muttered under his breath, his voice low and
raspy like a growl – but the lingering blush robbed the words of any
threat.
Smiling silently, Mok mentally upgraded the photographer's
importance in his boss's life. Satis ied with his little coup, he stopped
joking around... for now. His gaze swept around, making sure no one
was within earshot. Most of the crowd seemed ixated on the stage,
leaving them be.
Lowering his voice, Mok shifted into business mode, delivering the
day’s updates. As Theerakit’s assistant, he handled all non-critical
communications. Everyone in his circles knew that if they wanted
anything from the Arseny family, they had to go to him, not only for
safety but because of the family’s many hidden agendas. Every matter
had to be routed through the night channels.
After a brief pause, Mok looked down before handing over the inal
report. "Mr. Krich informed me that he will be lying to Thailand next
week."

Theerakit's eyebrow arched at the mention of his younger brother. His

eyes sparkled with mischief as he turned to Mok, a smile tugging at the
corner of his mouth. "How long will Rome be staying?"
"A month."
"Great. I'll take the whole month off and leave it in your hands."
"That's not happening. There's still a lot of work to be done." Mok
replied irmly, his lips moving slightly downwards.
“You should get ready to leave, Boss.” He continued, his tone turning
professional again.
“You have an online meeting irst thing in the morning.
“Put the meeting back a couple of hours.” He stopped renting and went
into command mode with his secretary. His mind wandered to
someone who probably worked late into the night. “And make me two
sets of sandwiches and iced Americanos.”
Exhausted beyond measure, Peach slumped into his of ice chair, barely
able to keep his eyes open. The computer screen con irmed that his
last email had been sent, allowing him to inally collapse with a sense
of relief.
It wasn't like he'd never pulled an all-nighter before, but that didn't
mean he enjoyed it, especially after a full day of acting, only to come
home and dive straight into more work. The routine had left him dry…
He took off his computer glasses and rubbed his temples, trying to
ease the pain radiating from his tired eyes. His stomach growled
loudly, reminding him that the instant noodles from earlier had long
since been digested. He was too exhausted to bother preparing a
proper meal, so he decided to ignore the hunger and curl up in his
chair for a quick nap.

Just as he was about to enjoy some much-needed rest, the shrill sound
of his doorbell pierced the silence like a sword.
Peach groaned, sinking deeper into her chair in stubborn denial. But
the incessant ringing would not cease. After a moment of internal
groaning, she forced her tired body to straighten and trudged to the
door. Standing on her tiptoes, she peered through the peephole and
froze. Standing on the other side was none other than Thee, seemingly
seconds away from ringing the bell again. Peach yanked the door open.
"What brings you here so early, Mr. Thee?" she muttered, suppressing a
yawn so hard that tears sprang to her eyes.
The mob boss hesitated for a split second, his stormy grey eyes
heartbreaking as they scanned Peach from head to toe –
messy hair, sleepy, tear- illed eyes, an oversized, stretched-out t-shirt
that left her collarbones exposed, and shorts barely visible beneath the
hem of the shirt, leaving long, toned legs on display.
To Peach, this was a perfectly normal home out it. After all, she was
about to crash. But for some reason. Thee's expression darkened
ominously.
Without a word, Thee grabbed him irmly by the shoulders and shoved
him back into the apartment. His sharp gaze darted down the hallway
of the condo, searching for any possible witnesses. Once he was sure
that no one had seen Peach in such a state, he slammed the door shut
and locked it. He turned and gave Peach a hard, disapproving look.
“Your out it looks awkward. Are you planning to show off to someone?”
Thee’s voice came out low and gruff, her expression stern. Too tired to
understand what she meant, Peach simply frowned in confusion and
replied latly, unfazed by the intimidating tone.
"I'm about to go to sleep, so of course I'm in my pajamas. What are you
expecting, a suit?" He paused to yawn, squeezing his eyes shut as he
massaged his temples. "And it's six in the morning. Who else would be
coming but you?"
His face instantly softened, as if someone had lipped a switch. For a
moment, Peach could have sworn there were sparkles lashing in the
air behind him. Apparently, the sarcasm didn't register with Thee's
selective audience.
"Just me, right?" she asked, her voice suddenly light and cheerful.
Peach, still dazed and with her eyes half-closed, could only nod lazily.
Normal people didn't show up at someone's house at six in the morning.
Ignoring Peach's unenthusiastic look, he walked further into the
apartment, his long legs moving with determination. He grabbed
Peach's arm and guided him towards the dining table, gently pressing
him into a chair. It was only then that Peach noticed the two plastic
bags he was carrying, releasing a delicious porridge-like aroma.
“I was going to have that sandwich you like, but Mok said porridge
would be better.” He explained, frowning slightly as he questioned
himself. Peach nodded enthusiastically, instantly on board. Something
light and easy on the stomach was exactly what she needed after such
a long night.

The savory aroma of the food brought him out of his daze a little
further.
Giving you a quick glance, he stood up and without a second thought,
pulled out two bowls from the cupboard. Returning to the table, he
carefully opened the bags and poured the hot porridge into the bowls,
white steam lazily wafting through the air. He added mini crispy dough
sticks, thinly sliced ginger, and a splash of soy sauce for extra lavor.
Pushing a bowl towards Thee, Peach smiled warmly.
"Thanks. Come eat with me," Peach said with a wide smile.
Peach's stomach was growling, and having food appear on his
doorstep without lifting a inger instantly put him in a better mood.
The young mobster paused brie ly, his eyes softening in a way that was
almost noticeable.
"Do you want me to buy you a porridge shop?
"No, thank you," Peach latly declined, already accustomed to Thee's
over-the-top offers. He didn't take the suggestion seriously one bit.
After inishing the bowl of oatmeal, her stomach felt comfortably full
and the warmth spread through the ham, making her eyelids even
heavier as it weighed down with lead. Peach lazily stacked the empty
bowls in the sink and decided to deal with them after waking up
around noon.
"I brought you some coffee, it's in the fridge. Go get some sleep and
have it at noon when you wake up," the mobster said as he followed
him into the kitchen, holding a cup of a popular coffee. A slight smile
tugged at his lips as he noticed Peach looking sleepy again. "I'll be back
at noon to pick you up."
Peach nodded absentmindedly, barely processing the words. As Thee
headed for the door, a sudden thought struck him. He called out to

Thee to wait and ran to her workspace. When she returned, she was
carrying a wind chime in her hand.
The crystal wind chime faded from deep blue at the edges to pure
white in the center, decorated with elegant swirling wave patterns that
looked almost alive. A delicate shell with a soft pink hue hung from the
end, producing a clear, soothing sound with the slightest movement.
"This is for you. Sorry it's a little late. I painted the waves myself and it
just inished drying."
Peach said with a proud smile. "They say the sound of wind chimes
helps calm the mind. Maybe you can hang it up and see if it works for
you."

ATTENTION CALL #22

The morning meeting was a joint conference attended by the entire
Arseny conglomerate. With several branches operating abroad, most
meetings were held online via video calls, allowing representatives to
report from different corners of the world.
Even through the cold lens of a camera, the intimidating atmosphere
generated by Arseny's heirs was still as palpable as ever. The
company's executives not only prepared detailed reports, but also
steeled their nerves in anticipation of the usual intensity.
But today something unexpected happened. You, the young mobster,
seemed… cheerful. Not just mildly pleasant – your demeanor
bordered on downright nice. Your lips even curved upwards at times,
almost as if a ield of lowers were spread out behind you.
The image clashed absurdly with the severe and ruthless igure to
which everyone was accustomed.
Yet no one dared comment on the strange change. After delivering
their reports, the executives quickly turned off their cameras and
logged off, disappearing with almost military precision. Only two
brothers remained on the call, locked in an intense stare.
Krichdanai Rome Arseny, Thee's only younger brother, studied him
with narrowed, piercing grey eyes that glittered with curiosity.
A mischievous smile appeared on his lips, as if he had just discovered a
well-kept secret.
"Alright, say it, Kian. What happened?"

“Nothing.” Thee’s response was as deadpan as ever. However, Rome

immediately straightened up and pointed an accusatory inger at the
camera as if trying to break through the screen.
"No way! You? Are you in a good mood? Don't even try to pass that off
as 'normal'. I don't believe it."
Leaning back in his chair, Rome's smile widened slightly. His gaze
softened, tinged with genuine warmth. "Seeing me happy for a change
isn't so bad, is it?"
"Creepy!" Rome responded instantly, though his blow didn't seem to
faze you at all.
The Arseny brothers couldn't have had more different personalities,
but their bond was unbreakable. They had grown up together.
shaped by hard lessons: never trust anyone, because a true friend
doesn’t exist in a ma ia world. But one rule stood above all – trust your
brother more than anyone else. No matter how brutal the outside
world might be, family was the one constant.
That's why Thee's unusually calm humor stood out like a beacon for
Rome, impossible to ignore.
Thee’s smile widened a little as she relaxed back into her chair, her
shoulders visibly loosening. She reached out to pick up a glass wind
chime resting nearby and gently twirled it between her ingers. “How’s
everything going on your end? Are Mom and Dad okay?”
“They’re great. They don’t act like retirees at all.” Rome shrugged,
though his gaze lingered on his brother’s hand, still absentmindedly
iddling with the delicate wind chime, “What’s that in your hand?”

“A wind chime.” Thee held it up with silent pride and turned it around
for Rome to see. “Pretty, isn’t it? The wave patterns are adorable and
the shell at the bottom is just the right size. Plus, it sounds beautiful.”
Krich rolled his eyes, looking exasperated. “You’re talking about that
trinket like it’s worth ten thousand.”
“It’s worth more than those expensive designer pieces. You just don’t
have an eye for quality,” Thee snapped, her voice high-pitched as she
carefully placed the wind chime back into place, protecting it like a
precious heirloom. She didn’t spare a glance at her brother’s stunned,
ghostly expression.
"Hey! Kian. Is something wrong? Since when do you like decorative
knickknacks like that?" Rome leaned closer, bewildered, as if trying to
decode some hidden meaning behind the wind chime.
"Is it a brand name? It doesn't look expensive."
“I like this one.” he snapped, his face hardening slightly. “Is that a
problem, Roma? Because if it is, I can send Mok on a mission abroad
for a month next week.”
“Wow, there’s no need for that, Kian!” Rome raised his hands in
surrender, his face adopting a perfect mask of de pair mockery, like a
scolded puppy. “There’s no problem? That wind chime is a
masterpiece. A true work of art. I’ve never seen one so exquisite and
absolutely priceless, big brother.”
Thee's expression softened enough to show approval.
Rome smiled, his eyes sparkling with mischief again.
"So... who gave it to you?"

He narrowed his eyes coldly and ended the call without another word.
He turned his attention back to the wind chime in his hand.
I knew it wasn't worth much. The painted waves were uneven, the
strokes were clumsy, and there were even loose spots where the paint
had dripped.
Normally, he couldn't care less about useless decorations. However,
holding it illed him with warmth.
She rocked him gently, a faint smile tugging at her lips. The frustrating
encounter still lingered in her mind, but just seeing the wind chime
seemed to ease the tension.
"Boss, here are the additional documents from the previous online
meeting."
Her secretary, Mok, entered the room after knocking three times with
no response. He looked at the wind chime in Thee's hand and sighed
inwardly, feeling a surge of pity for the poor thing. If he were alive, he
would probably have withered away from over-handling. "Boss... wind
chimes are supposed to be hung up." Mok reminded cautiously, hoping
Thee hadn't forgotten its true purpose, not as a makeshift stress ball.
"I'm dealing with a serious problem here," the mobster muttered
coldly, his expression very serious. "Where should I hang it? If I put it
in my condo, I won't see it while I'm at work. But if I hang it at work, I
won't see it when I get back to the condo."
Mok closed his eyes and silently counted to ten in an effort to remain
calm. He stepped forward and handed over the documents,
deliberately ignoring the previous comment.

"These are additional reports from the last meeting," he explained.

"And this game is for the afternoon meeting."
Thee’s concentration sharpened at the mention of the afternoon
meeting. He had a session scheduled with Peachayarat. He planned to
pick him up at noon, there was no way he was going to let the other
drive himself after pulling an all-nighter. It would also be a good excuse
to have lunch together.
As he lipped through the documents, his ingers drummed lightly on
the desk.
His mind wandered: he had received a gift, but he had never given
Peach anything in return.
He hadn't even attended the celebration of the successful launch of the
fall collection.
"Book me a full omakase course – book the full session.
"I want a private room," Thee ordered, looking up from the documents
in her hands, completely unrelated to the conversation.
"Get the most expensive course. I expect top-notch quality, worth
every penny.
Mok blinked a few times before letting out a long sigh. Still, he nodded.
If that made his boss happy, maybe – just maybe – he would inally get
that job. end of year bonus.
………………..
The deafening sound of an alarm woke Peach. She blindly reached out
to silence it, groaning as she forced herself to get up. Her pounding
headache was a harsh reminder of her sleep-deprived state, but with
the afternoon meeting hanging over her head, staying in bed wasn't an
option.

Dragging his tired body into the bathroom, he hoped a cold shower
would help clear the fog in his mind. He was feeling more unwell than
usual lately.
Since he got back from the beach trip, he thought it was just heat
exhaustion; he wasn't exactly used to being outside, having spent most
of his time cooped up inside.
After spending several days under the scorching sun, Peach thought
she might be feeling a little under the weather - nothing a day of rest
couldn't ix.
But he had clearly miscalculated. Since returning, he had been burning
up until midnight without getting proper rest, and now his body was
making its protests known.
Once dressed, he headed straight to the medicine cabinet, took a
painkiller, and continued searching through the fridge. The morning
porridge was long gone, leaving his stomach growling in protest.
Thinking about the porridge made him pause. Even through the haze
of exhaustion and near-blinding fatigue, he could still vividly see it.
When Peach handed Thee the wind chime, the usually stoic man’s
expression softened, unmistakably so. The corner of Thee’s mouth
lifted into a genuine smile, his eyes shining with quiet delight, like a
child receiving the toy they’d always wanted. Peach doubted he’d even
registered what he’d said next.
Oddly enough, that smile remained in her mind, etched so deeply that
it made her cheeks blush involuntarily.
Peach caressed her warm cheeks, dismissing them as a lingering fever,
though she couldn't help but smile at the memory.

You were quite charming when he wasn't in his usual grumpy, bossy
mode.
Without thinking, Peach was brought back to reality when her phone
rang. She reached over, closed the refrigerator door, and checked the
caller ID. Seeing the name displayed, she blinked slightly in surprise
before answering without hesitation.
"Hello? "
[ Peach, why so formal? ] The sweet and familiar voice on the other end
of the line made him smile slightly. Phone balanced between his ear
and shoulder; he went back to searching the refrigerator for the coffee
Mr. Thee had thoughtfully kept there.
"It's nothing, just a little surprise," Peach replied casually, opening the
bag of coffee and pouring it over ice. "So, what's wrong, Mim? What
made you call me out of the blue?"
[ What if I say I miss you? Would you believe me? ]
“I’ll consider it the day the sun rises in the west.” His tone was calm,
but a small smile appeared on his lips. Hearing the echo of Mim’s
laughter through the phone made his smile widen.
Mim was his most recent ex. Their breakup hadn't been particularly
painful for him. She'd asked him out shortly after her previous
relationship ended, clearly stating that she was looking for emotional
support and a rebound, Peach hadn't minded; they were already
somewhat close, so she agreed to give it a try. But when it became
clear that their feelings wouldn't deepen, they mutually decided to call
it quits.
Her reason for ending things had been mildly irritating, but not
enough for him to harbor any resentment. After all, he hadn't been able
to grow any fonder of her either.

[ I need a small favor from you .] Mim said after her laughter subsided,
her voice taking on a playful and persuasive tone. [ My boss likes it. ] love
your job, but as much as we tried, we couldn't communicate with you.
So... I took the liberty of calling you myself. same. ]
Peach nodded to himself in understanding. He had been on a much-
needed vacation, completely unplugged, lounging on the beach with no
worries. He hadn't listed his phone number on his work website either
because he liked to keep his personal and business life separate.
So you're taking advantage of your old privileges to hire me,
"Huh? But there are no discounts."
[ Please! I was more worried about you raising the price because of that.
] Mim grumbled, clearly aware that the reason for their breakup hadn't
been all that graceful. [ The project is super urgent, Peach, I'm so sorry . ]
having taken a shortcut like this. ]
Peach sighed and picked up her americano for another sip. The bitter
tutte sharpened her senses, dissipating some of her lingering fatigue.
"It's okay. I understand," he said calmly. "But I'm tied up with a project
right now. If the job is urgent, I might not be able to accept it."
[ At least meet with my bosses irst ], Mim pleaded gently.
[ Then we can go over the details. Think of it as a opportunity to catch up
over dinner. Are you free tonight?
I'll reserve your favorite restaurant .
Peach frowned thoughtfully, looking at her calendar. She only had one
meeting scheduled for the afternoon, with nothing planned for the
evening. Even

I had marked the next day as a rest day, hoping to catch up on sleep
after several nights.
A quick meeting wouldn't hurt.
"Okay, but no promises. We'll talk about the details tonight."
[ Deal! I’ll make the reservation, see you tonight! ] His voice sparkled
with excitement before the line disconnected, Peach exhaled slowly,
raising a hand to massage her temples, tiredness setting in once again.
At that moment, her phone vibrated again. This time, the caller ID
displayed the name of a certain mob boss.
For some reason. A strange feeling of foreboding ran through his spine.
Something told him things were about to get complicated.

ATTENTION CALL #23

The afternoon meeting was a complete 180-degree turn from the
morning meeting – day and night, really. Things were so tense that even
Mok, the ever-patient secretary, could only sigh inwardly. If he had to
trace the root of the problem.
It certainly started with what happened in the car at lunchtime.
By the time Peachayarat, freshly dressed and ready, came down
from his condo, he was already getting used to seeing him waiting
at the front entrance. He didn't even question him anymore. He
greeted him with a cheerful "I'm starving!" a clear sign that he
wanted company for lunch.
Peach still couldn’t understand why Thee kept tagging along, but hey,
free food was free food. She didn’t bother arguing. This time, Peach
suggested switching things up with some Thai food. As much as she
liked Japanese cuisine, eating it every day was just too much. She even
considered suggesting a roadside food stall, but judging by Thee’s
polished appearance, she opted for a proper restaurant.
That's ine. It doesn't affect him at all – he wasn't the one paying the
bill.
While Peach was busy smashing the liquid police yolk on her plate,
Thee cleared his throat, looking awkward and a little shy. His cars
turned slightly red, though he was trying his hardest to keep his
composure on his face.
“That night… at the company banquet… you didn’t attend.” She began
hesitantly. “So… I thought maybe we could celebrate tonight. You did
really well on the fall collection project.” Her lips curved into a faint
smile. “Don’t bother thanking me. It’s only fair to reward good work.”

Peach froze, her mouth slightly agape, completely caught off guard. Her
mind raced as she blinked in disbelief.
"Uh. Sorry, but I already have plans for tonight."
As soon as the words left her mouth, Thee’s expression turned stone
cold. Her previously gentle features hardened and the atmosphere in
the room became dark and heavy. Her eyes narrowed like a predator
locking on to its prey.
The Arseny mob was back.
"I won't let you go. You'll come with me."
"Mr. Thee, I already promised you. I can't just back out." Peach sighed
inwardly.
The possessive and unpredictable Thee had resurfaced.
“Who is the meeting with? I checked your schedule, you don’t have
anything.” Thee’s voice was calm, but irritation seeped through.
Feeling cornered, Peach reluctantly mentioned the client’s company.
"They want to discuss a last-minute project, so they asked me to meet
with them tonight," he explained. "But don't worry, I already told them
that I have a long-term project to handle.
I haven't committed to anything yet and I won't let that interfere with
your work."
“Since when do you meet customers in restaurants? That’s not your
usual way.” Thee’s eyes narrowed suspiciously.
“A friend of mine arranged it,” she replied calmly. “I thought I’d
combine work with catching up over dinner.” Peach paused, realizing
where this was going.

"Am I not your friend?" he asked dryly. Peach fell silent, taken aback by
the unexpected question. She wanted to ask. Since when were we close
enough to be friends? but I thought better of it.
Despite herself, the corners of her mouth lifted slightly. She couldn’t
deny the warmth she felt, like a hazy comfort settling in her chest. Ever
since that day when Thee let her guard down and cried in front of him,
Peach felt… something changed. Somehow, this complicated, intense
man had become a strange kind of safe space.
Even if being in that “safe space” came with a bit of emotional
whiplash.
“The other meeting was scheduled irst,” Peach reasoned gently,
knowing better than to ight ire with ire. “I already gave them my
word. You didn’t book me in advance, Thee.
Could you maybe… ask next time before you decide on anything
involving me?”
"Why are they more important to you than me?"
Peach blinked at the sarcastic comment, feeling a sudden sting behind
her eyes. What answer could possibly satisfy you when he asked you
that?
"It's not about who's more important. I have a business meeting, it's a
real commitment," Peach explained, pressing her lips together.
Thee's intense gaze ixed on him, sharp and unwavering. "Maybe you
shouldn't take the job. You're already overworked."
"If I stop working, how am I supposed to eat?"

She bit back the urge to point out that he wasn't rich like Thee.
"Besides, for the past three months, all I've been doing is your
projects."
Thee's expression softened, though she conveniently chose to hear
only the words Everything I've done is yours. Satis ied for a brief
moment, she continued forward, still unwilling to turn back.
"I've seen your schedule. You have a lot of jobs lined up. Skipping this
one won't kill you."
"It's just a meeting. I haven't even agreed to take on the project yet."
"Then don't go," Thee replied immediately, her tone leaving no room
for negotiation. "I mean it. You don't need to work anymore."
Peach let out a deep sigh, rubbing her temples to relieve the growing
headache. "And what would I live on if I stopped working?"
“I’ll take care of you.” Thee’s quick reply was laced with satisfaction, as
if she’d found the perfect solution. But Peach’s brow furrowed even
further, mimicry creeping into her voice. "You expect me to take
advantage of you? What kind of friend supports someone for life?" he
exhaled slowly, struggling to maintain his composure.
It took every ounce of self-control not to bite at Thee's infuriating
stubbornness.
Mr. Thee's intense gaze remained ixed, his expression hardening with
determination.
"I can take care of you – for life if necessary."
Peach froze, sensing something odd about Thee's statement.
He probably just meant paying for occasional meals. There couldn't be
more to it than that... right?

He forced a polite, distant smile.

"No, thanks. I love my job and I already have plans for tonight. I won't
bother you."
Thee's frown deepened at Peach's irm tone, sensing the resolve in her
words. Reluctantly, she shifted her stance, though backing away went
against her nature.
"I just wanted to celebrate you." His voice softened, though the
annoyance still lingered.
She crossed her arms and looked away, as if dismissing her own
vulnerability. "I didn't want anyone to say that you work harder than
everyone else and never get anything in return."
Peach sighed quietly, her irritation melting into something
softer. Dealing with you sometimes felt like sailing a stormy
sea – unpredictable and relentless.
"You've already raised my contract rate," he replied evenly, restoring
his usual calm tone.
"That's different." Thee's eyes returned to him, glittering with
something unreadable.
His voice dropped to a growl. "It's nearly impossible to book the
restaurant tonight. If you miss it, you may never get another chance."
"I have a work appointment."
He cursed under his breath, clearly frustrated. An awkward silence
settled between them, lasting for the rest of the meal and persisting
even as they moved to the meeting room. Thee’s scowl remained
intact, his narrowed eyes radiating irritation as if he was still mentally
battling unresolved tension.

Even now, as he presented the winter collection, Thee sat at the head
of the table, his face dark and stormy, as if he couldn't be more
disappointed with the designs, despite not uttering a single word of
criticism during the presentation.
The confusion wasn't limited to outsiders; not even You yourself could
understand why he was so irritated. His blood boiled when he realized
that the photographer had chosen someone else over him. Deep down.
He knew it wasn’t Peach’s fault – it was his for not coordinating
properly. But Thee was used to Peach choosing him irst. Every. Single.
Time.
This was the irst time Thee had been latly rejected. It shocked him
deeply – he hadn’t realized that for the past three months, Peach had
been working almost exclusively on her projects, leaving little room for
anyone else.
Would Peach disappear when this project was completed?
The thought hit Thee like a punch to the gut. His frustration turned
into restless anxiety, especially after seeing Peach’s unwavering eyes
as he irmly refused. The rejection unsettled him more than he cared
to admit.
And it wasn't just that. Something else was gnawing at him – a bad
feeling he couldn't shake.
I had looked into Peach's background before. I knew that Peach didn't
have many close friends, just a small circle of people she really trusted.
And most importantly, the company Peach mentioned in passing? The
background check clearly stated that it was the place of

work of Peach's most recent ex-girlfriend whom she had broken up

with not long ago.
He clenched his jaw. The presentation continued, but nothing
registered. His mind was churning with restless thoughts, despite his
attempts to reason with himself that it could just be a coincidence.
Maybe someone else at the company had approached her, maybe it
had nothing to do with her.
But no matter how he rationalized it, his irritation burned even more.
He hated the idea of Peach meeting that ex again.
"Boss, is everything okay?"
Mok's voice brought Thee out of her thoughts. She shifted slightly and
her eyes focused on the image displayed on the screen. She recognized
the photographer's work instantly. Peach's style was unmistakable –
hauntingly beautiful, even with minimal equipment. Peach had
somehow conjured up a wintery, end-of-year scene illed with
loneliness, with the soft glow of scattered Christmas lights shining
across the frame.
Thee's expression softened without his meaning to. Seeing Peach's
elegant signature in the corner of the photo, the suffocating tension
that had been weighing on the room dissipated.
Everything about Peach still managed to get under his skin.
"No problem. We'll get on with it," Thee inally said, nodding to his
assistant and gesturing to the others. "The meeting is adjourned."
Mok raised an eyebrow at his unusually distant behavior

boss, but he didn't say anything. He mentally noted that he would need
to write up a full summary of the meeting later; clearly you hadn't
heard a word of what was said.
Once the room began to empty out, Thee casually lipped through the
meeting notes as he waited for everyone to leave. He inally stood up,
ready to leave as well, but just as he crossed the threshold, someone
lightly tugged on his suit jacket. The tug wasn’t strong, but it was
enough to stop him.
He turned, ready to bark at whoever dared to grab him, but froze when
he saw Peach standing there, looking hesitant and... vulnerable.
Peach bit his lip, eyes wide and uncertain, almost pleading without
realizing it. He inhaled sharply, feeling as if the air had been knocked
out of his lungs. His heart was pounding so hard it startled him.
"What is it?" he asked, clearing his throat and keeping his voice steady
–
despite the lash of excitement in her eyes. He looked down at the
small hand still clutching his jacket, afraid that Peach might notice the
intensity burning in his gaze.
Fortunately, Mok was very discreet. The moment he saw Peach grab
Thee's jacket, he quietly left the room and closed the door behind him,
making sure no one else stumbled upon the sight of his normally cold
and untouchable boss standing there with a faint, unmistakable smile
lighting up his eyes.
Peach looked confused, as if she couldn't understand why she had run
after Thee and grabbed her jacket in the irst place. Her teeth bit her
bottom lip, clenched in unease.
Without thinking, Thee gently ran her ingertip along that tense lip,
slow and deliberate.

“Don’t bite. You’ll hurt yourself,” he murmured, his voice barely above a
whisper. The warmth and softness that lingered on her ingertip felt
too good – too comforting – to let go so easily. Her heart, which had
only just begun to calm down, began to race again.
I wanted to touch it more and more.
Peach blinked, releasing her lip as requested, still looking unsure of
himself. After a long sigh, he pulled his phone out of his pocket and
dialed a number with his hand still clutching Thee’s jacket, as if letting
go wasn’t an option. She made no move to push him away. She didn’t
even consider telling him to let go.
In fact, replacing that grip with holding hands didn't sound so evil.
"Hey, it's me... Peach," the photographer greeted the person on the
other end of the line. You couldn't hear the reply, but you stayed close,
straining to listen.
"About our meeting tonight... Can we reschedule it?
"Something urgent came up."
Thee's head snapped up, eyes wide and shining with something
suspiciously close to hope. If she had ears and a tail, they'd be
animated and moving by now.
Peach never cancelled appointments – ever. Not unless it was
something serious like an accident or sudden illness. Her
professionalism was practically legendary.
Was it too much to expect... that Peach would cancel for him?
"Tomorrow will be ine, of course. Sorry, Mim."

The name slipped from Peach's lips so naturally, so softly...

And in an instant, the heat surging through you froze. His sharp eyes
narrowed, suspicion howling louder than ever in his mind.
I remembered that name very well... Peach's most recent ex.
Thee stood with her arms crossed, waiting for Peach to end the call.
When Peach inally turned around, she lightly tugged at Thee's jacket,
silently asking for attention. Those wide, expressive eyes looked at
him with a hint of playful innocence, and her lips curved into a sweet,
persuasive smile.
"I'm free tonight... Wanna take me somewhere, Thee?"
Thee froze, her eyes widening slightly as she took in that smile. A soft
blush crept up her cheekbones, trailing all the way to their cars. She
swallowed hard, her Adam's apple bobbing visibly.
Something deep inside him stirred, unsettling and undeniable.
No matter how much he enjoyed the moment, the memory of Peach's
ex's name still gnawed at the back of his mind, stoking a slow-burning
irritation.
She closed her eyes brie ly, regaining her composure. When she
opened them again, her expression was cold and unreadable, as if
nothing had happened.
"Come on. I'll take you there."
She turned and walked forward, feeling a slight pang of
disappointment when Peach inally let go of her jacket. Sliding her
hand into her pocket, Thee pulled out her phone and typed out a
message to her secretary with practiced speed.
A full report on all things Peach's ex due tomorrow!

ATTENTION CALL #24

Peach wasn’t much of a talker by nature. When they ate together, it was
usually a quiet affair – just the sound of utensils gently clattering
against plates, with neither of them feeling the need to force a
conversation. It was that kind of comfortable silence that enveloped
them like a warm blanket. Before you knew it, he’d become addicted to
that quiet affair.
But tonight was different. Even though it was a celebration, I had
planned...
Despite choosing a high-end Japanese restaurant, I knew Peach would
love it...
Despite booking an extravagant omakase course, Peach had once
mentioned that she wanted to try...
Even though it was a good place, the atmosphere between them felt
tense, even suffocating, as if the air was too thick to breathe.
Thee glanced at Peach, sitting still and silent beside him. His face was
unreadable, his usual warmth reduced to a slight, polite smile
whenever he accepted a plate from the chef behind the wooden
counter.
Even that smile never reached his eyes.
Thee’s chest tightened in frustration. She couldn’t ignore the growing
discomfort gnawing at her stomach, and patience had never been her
strong suit. Turning fully to Peach, she crossed her arms, eyebrows
furrowed. Her narrowed eyes practically burned with pent-up
irritation, yearning for release.
But criticizing Peach wouldn't solve anything, no matter how tempting
it might seem.

"Are you mad at me?" He asked bluntly, his voice carrying a harsh tone
that he couldn't hide.
Subtlety had never been Thee’s strong suit. He was used to speaking
with precision and determination, whether negotiating business deals
or giving calculated orders. But when it came to emotions he hadn’t
planned on, his words always came out unpolished and painfully blunt.
Peach blinked, momentarily surprised by the intensity in Thee's tone.
After bowing, she took a small sip of tea before inally turning to Thee.
Thee's gaze was as calm and serene as ever.
“I wouldn’t say I’m angry, but I’m de initely not happy.” Peach said
calmly, her voice irm as ever. She had never been one to use sarcasm
or beat around the bush. “You made me break my word about work,
and of course that’s going to make me angry.”
He pressed his lips together, understanding the words, but unable to
shake off the irritation bubbling beneath his skin. The name Peach had
casually mentioned earlier and the soft tone she had used to say it only
made his frustration grow.
"Ha! Is this about work or the person you were supposed to have lunch
with?"
The mob boss nearly bit his tongue the moment the words left his
mouth. The long sigh Peach let out in response only made Thee's ists
clench tighter, her knuckles turning white from the pressure.

"Mr. Thee, can you be reasonable for a moment? I don't know what's
going on in your head, but what you did wasn't right." Peach's voice
softened, as if she was trying to calm down a stubborn child who was
throwing a tantrum.
"It doesn't matter who I had the appointment with or what it was
about. If I made a promise, it's my responsibility to keep it unless
there's an unavoidable emergency. That's just basic courtesy."
Theerakit pressed his lips together and looked away. He knew he was
being reprimanded. If anyone else had spoken to him like that, he
wouldn’t have even bothered to listen. At best, they would laugh coldly
before he made them regret daring to cross him.
But with Peachayarat? He felt completely defeated. Frustrated,
cornered, and unable to do anything about it.
"So, are you saying that someone else is more important than me?"
"I'm not saying anyone is more important than anyone else. It's about
keeping promises and respecting others," Peach replied with
unwavering seriousness, refusing to back down an inch.
The cold look in Peach’s eyes and her stoic, unreadable expression
made Thee’s chest tighten uncomfortably. That sharp. The sinking
feeling drowned out the heat of his anger in an instant, leaving him
feeling inexplicably empty.
"If I had told you beforehand, it wouldn't have been a surprise." He said
softly, his voice losing its previous edge. For the irst time, he was
beginning to realize that he might not win this argument. He never
would have. He'd been in an opener like this before, and he certainly
wasn't used to not having a clever comeback ready.

"So you have to accept the risk that it entails."

The mob boss glanced at Pesch, who seemed to have calmed down a
bit, though he still wasn't back to his usual self. You would have
preferred Peach to complain or scold like she always did, rather than
stay silent like that. This silence felt like a wall was slowly being built
between them, pushing Peach even further away.
Before she even realized what she was doing, Thee reached out and
gently grabbed Peach’s wrist. Her touch was light, almost hesitant, as if
she were testing the water. When Peach didn’t pull away, her ingers
trailed down to her palm, holding it carefully.
“You’re still mad at me for something else,” Thee said, her eyebrows
furrowed. The tension in Peach’s demeanor hadn’t completely
disappeared, and it left Thee feeling unusually unsure of himself.
It was strange – letting someone else’s emotions affect him like this.
Aside from his family, Thee had never cared about anyone’s feelings,
whether good or bad. He had never let himself be swayed by anyone’s
mood, and all those who irritated him had met an unceremonious end.
But he couldn't act that way with Peach. The memory of the red marks
he had left on Peach's wrist haunted him, gnawed at him.
He hated the idea of hurting the man in any way, hated the idea of
anyone else doing it even more. And yet, Peach's unspoken irritation
made him feel like he was walking on a bed of nails.
Peach inally pulled her hand away and turned to accept another piece
of sushi from the chef. She savored it slowly, letting it simmer in
silence. Only after wiping her hands with a wet napkin did Peach inally
look up at him, her expression calm but serious.

"Why do you think I'm upset, Mr. Thee?"

"Other than me forcing you to come here, what else could it be?" He
murmured, a hint of unexpected vulnerability slipping into his tone.
Thee had booked this place with Peach in mind, but here he was, being
scolded instead of thanked. Though he understood the reasoning, he
couldn't help the pang of pain.
Since when did Theerakit have to feel hurt by anyone?
Thee rested her elbow on the table and her chin on her hand, turning
her face away with a sullen expression that could be seen from outside
the restaurant. But Peach? He didn't seem the least bit fazed, looking
more exasperated than anything else.
Why does he always have to seem so fed up with me?
"And what do you think you did to make me mad?" Peach asked calmly,
not answering, but turning the question back on him. There was no
sarcasm, just seriousness.
"You've asked me twice now, which means you must have some idea
what you did wrong."
The mob boss pressed his lips together, his eyes darting around to
avoid Peach’s gaze. Meanwhile, Peach waited patiently, making no
effort to rush him, as if giving him time to igure it out on his own. The
silence stretched out uncomfortably until Thee inally blurted out.
"You didn't like it when I said I'd take care of the bill, did you?" He
frowned, searching his thoughts for anything that might have upset
Peach. "Why? Doesn't everyone like money?" Even when I work, I think
about pro its and gains."

“Of course, everyone wants money. I want money too,” Peach replied
with a nod. “There are times when I wish I could just stay in bed all day
and have money magically appear in my account.” Peach nodded, but
just as Thee was about to retort, Peach held up a hand to stop him, as if
she were training a dog to wait.
Thee's eyebrows furrowed slightly at the thought, but when her eyes
met Peach's calm, clear gaze, her irritation faded. Fine, she thought
reluctantly. I'll play along.
“But besides the money, I also love what I do. Do you know how hard I
had to ight for this? I took any job that came my way, anything that
could pay. For a long time, it was just me and Plub. We only had each
other.” Peach continued, her tone irm and free of self-pity, neither
seeking sympathy nor suggesting that her struggles had been
particularly tragic. Peach was not the type of person to wallow in
misfortune.
“I knew I loved photography. But back then, doing what I loved felt like
an unbearable burden. Cameras are expensive, and turning something
I was passionate about into a career that could support both me and
my brother? It seemed impossible.” Peach continued. Her gaze
dropped as a slight smile tugged at the corners of her lips, a nostalgic
warmth creeping into her voice. She paused, her ingers tapping the
edge of the table as if tracing memories from the past. “I waited. I
snuck into galleries just to check out the exhibits. I collected discarded
cameras, ixed them, and used them. Even with the secondhand ones
bent, I was happy to be able to photograph.”
Peach's tone was calm, irm, without a trace of bitterness or
melodrama.
Yet you could feel the weight of each word, the mixture of pain,
ambition, and quiet determination. It wasn't pitiful; if anything, it
made a difference.

Peach shined brighter, her resilience and passion turned those

hardships into something extraordinary.
“It took me a long time to get here. A lot of people gave me
opportunities, helped me get to where I am now, to become a full-
ledged photographer.” Peach admitted, looking at you with a faint
smile that carried hope and a tinge of vulnerability. Her eyes softened,
but her voice became irm.
"That's why I didn't feel good when you told me to stop working. My
job may not seem as important as yours, but I love what I do."
Thee’s brow furrowed deeply as he listened, absorbing the weight of
Peach’s words. He could feel guilt sinking in him, something unfamiliar
and unsettling. And when he saw the nervous licker in Peach’s gaze, a
mix of apprehension and fear, his chest tightened.
He'd seen that look before. Once. Back then, he'd sworn to himself that
he never wanted to see it again. Yet, there it was, staring right back at
him. And the worst part? He was the one who caused it... again.
He had never felt so angry with himself before.
“I was wrong. I didn’t think about how you would feel.” He said quietly,
his voice tight with regret. Peach’s expression softened a little, but it
was still as if she was expecting something more. “How can I make it
up to you? I didn’t mean to make you feel that way.”
"You know what I want," Peach said with a slight smile, his gaze falling
on the new plate of sushi the chef had placed in front of him. "But be
careful, Thee. If you wait too long to say the right words, they might
lose all meaning."

Thee frowned, frowning as her mind raced. She had always been the
type to throw money at a problem, but she knew that approach
wouldn't work with Peach.
The memory of that wide, bright smile, the irst one he had ever
seen on Peach, lickered through his mind. He wanted to see that
smile again. Not this grim, distant look. "I'm sorry."
His voice was irm, the weight of his words re lected in the smoky grey
of his eyes as he held Peach’s gaze. He wanted her to feel the sincerity,
to know that he was truly sorry for his actions. Peach froze for a
moment before a small smile began to tug at the corners of her lips. It
wasn’t as radiant as before, but it was warm, with a hint of sweetness
and quiet contentment. You exhaled deeply. The air between them
hadn’t entirely cleared, but at least the suffocating tension had
dissipated, replaced by a subtle, delicate warmth. Without realizing it,
a soft smile appeared on Thee’s face.
It wasn't perfect, but it wasn't bad either.
Not far away. His secretary quietly let out a sigh of relief.
For the irst time in what seemed like years, he could inally breathe.
He stared at his boss for a moment, his expression caught somewhere
between exasperation and disbelief. Was he imagining it, or did you
suddenly look like a big dog wagging its tail in delight?
Well, at least someone had managed to keep you at bay. That was
progress.
Mok let his thoughts wander for a moment and came back to reality
when he felt a vibration in his chest pocket. He took out his phone and

He glanced at the screen, frowning slightly at the caller ID. After a quick
glance at Ti to con irm the situation was under control, he gestured for
one of the bodyguards to take over and quietly left the dining room.
Walking down a side hallway, he answered the call in his usual calm
tone. "Hello."
[ Oh, don't sound so distant. You're making me feel lonely ] the playful
voice on the other end of the line said, joking enough to make Mok roll
his eyes, even though the caller couldn't see him.
"What can I do for you, Mr. Krich?"
[ Are you really not going to call me Rome like you used to? ] The voice
on the other end of the line softened, sounding heartbreakingly sad.
…But Mok knows better than to fall for that act.
[ Don't worry, you can save it for when we're in bed,
TRUE? ]
Before Krich inished his sentence, the sad tone changed to something
sly and mocking, mixed with wicked amusement. Mok pinched the
bridge of his nose and a sharp headache gripped him.
I could already feel the need for a painkiller.
Keeping his voice calm and neutral, he shut down any chance for
further mischief. "So, do you really have something important to
discuss?"

[ Okay, very seriously, Mr. Secretary! And here I am, missing you.] very
much. ]
"If there's nothing urgent, I'll hang up now."
[ Wait! Wait! I just want to know: does my brother really have [Does
anyone in his life now ?] Krich’s tone changed again, this time with
genuine curiosity. The serious note in Krich’s voice made Mok pause
and his inger hovered over the disconnect button. He knew how much
Krich cared for his brother. Despite the constant backstabbing
between other ma ia families, the Arseny brothers were iercely loyal
to each other and were willing to die for each other if necessary.
Having been raised alongside the two brothers since childhood, Mok
knew better than anyone how unbreakable their bond was.
“No, he doesn’t,” Mok replied after a moment, frowning slightly as he
considered her words.
“To be more precise, it’s like he has someone in mind, but still nothing
is moving forward.”
The laughter that came from Krich on the other end of the line was
loud and full of mischief. Mok relaxed a little, a slight smile tugging at
the corners of his lips as his eyes sparkled with amusement.
[ Nothing of icial, huh? But who knows, things might have progressed
behind the scenes. ] Rome's voice still held a trace of laughter as he tried
to sound serious again. [ No, wait. Kian hates skinship. And let's be
Realists, he doesn't take orders from anyone .
Mok raised an eyebrow slightly, remembering the melancholic look in
Thee's eyes when Peach took his hand and how obediently she acted,
almost like a dog with ears pricked up and tail wagging. He couldn't
help the slight smile that played at the corner of his lips.

"I think you may need to update your information, Mr. Krich."
[ Really? Well then stopping by here next week should be a good time.]
[interesting ], Rome chuckled, his surprise evident. Then, on cue, his voice
changed to a playful, syrupy tone. [ But you know what?] I would only go
there for you. My whole heart and soul is yours, Mok .
Mok's expression turned into one of exasperation. "If you don't have
any real business, I'll hang up," he replied, his tone lat.
Rome laughed again, feigning offense. [ What a cold heart ] he
complained before his voice turned genuine.
[ I miss you ]
Mok didn't answer. Instead, he ended the call silently, clutching the
phone tightly to his chest. The thunderous pounding of his heart
startled even him, and his cheeks burned so hot that he bit his skull to
keep from smiling.
It's equally exhausting dealing with the Arseny brothers…both of them.

ATTENTION CALL #25

Peach dragged himself home, his chest heavy with confusion and
exhaustion that seemed to crush him from the inside out.
It had been an incredibly long day for him. The physical and emotional
exhaustion left him completely drained, with no desire to move or do
anything. To make matters worse, the slight fever he had been
suffering from hinted that the effects of the medication he had taken at
lunch had completely worn off.
After sleeping through the night for a long period, Peach felt a little
better the next morning. While she did not fully recover, the symptoms
were much less severe than the day before.
Once he had recovered and had a light breakfast, he headed to the café
where he had agreed to meet Mim. Since he didn't have any more
weeks to deal with today, he decided to leave home earlier than
planned. At least that way he would have time to have a coffee
beforehand.
The café they had chosen was a medium-sized establishment that
offered a wide variety of drinks, savory dishes, and desserts. It was a
place Peach had frequented often when he and Mim were still together.
But after their breakup, his busy schedule prevented him from visiting
her again.
Peach ordered a coffee and then found a seat. He chose a table by the
window overlooking the garden, thinking that Mim would have an easy
time spotting him when he arrived. Plus, the sight of the green leaves
was comforting – a welcome relief to his tired mind.
The young photographer put his coffee cup down on the table and
leaned back in his chair.
His gaze drifted aimlessly towards the garden outside as his thoughts
returned once again to yesterday.

Normally, Peach was calm and level-headed, not one to lose his temper
easily. But the ma ia heir's words from the day before had managed to
get under his skin. However, in the end, he softened and rescheduled
his plans to suit him.
However, he was becoming more and more confused. He was usually a
calm person, but he wasn't someone who was easily in luenced,
especially when it came to work, he was stricter than anyone else. The
only exception was Plub, who he would soften to without hesitation.
But who would have thought that he would unexpectedly ind himself
vulnerable to this mob?
Peach stared out the window, lost in thought. He received an apology
from the young mobster yesterday, the irst of its kind. It was awkward
and uncertain, but somehow sincere and genuine. He could feel the
true remorse behind those words.
Beyond the sincerity, there was something subtly sweet lingering
beneath the surface.
He frowned, feeling his heart skip a beat. Earlier, when he received that
apology with such a serious look, he had already felt a momentary
lutter. He had dismissed it as a mere impression, but now his heart
wavered once again.
Hesitating ? What nonsense! This was a man, and nothing less than a
mobster. Besides, Thee was the one he was interested in!
He dropped his head on the deal with a loud thud that hit the inner
turmoil deepening. He repeatedly told himself to control himself.
Although he couldn’t see how Mr. Thee and Aran could connect, he
knew that Mr. Thee would never be interested in someone like him.

Wait a minute! Why did he even care if Thee liked him?

He wasn't interested in this guy at all!
She nearly tore her hair out, feeling like she had become too
sentimental lately. She had always dated women. There was no way
she could fall for this man, no matter how endearing he might be, like a
big, stubborn dog trying hard to obey while maintaining his pride and
his fur standing up.
And that wind chime did not help him gain clarity, contrary to what any
advertisement might claim.
The young photographer straightened up and let out a long sigh. He
slowly turned his coffee cup around, trying to calm his racing thoughts.
At that moment, he was caught in a haze of uncertainty, struggling to
regain his emotional balance as quickly as possible.
He was taking another sip of coffee when a slender woman
approached him.
She had elegant proportions, a full bust and curvy hips. Her face was
striking and meticulously made up. In her tight dress and four-inch
heels, she looked even more stunning.
"Hey, Peach. I see you're still married to coffee," he greeted casually,
waving from a distance.
Peach looked up and stood up to meet her, her lips spreading into a
bright smile. “Mim, looking as beautiful as ever,” she teased. “These
four-inch stilettos don’t scare you one bit, do they?”
"Don't even start," she warned him, seeing that he was about to dredge
up some old, embarrassing memory of her irst attempts at wearing
high heels. This made him laugh softly.

Mim was about to say something else when another man entered the
café . Her demeanor instantly transformed. She straightened up,
becoming a consummate professional, extending her hand formally.
"Good morning, Mr. Peach. This is Mr. Touch, my boss, whom I
mentioned earlier."
Peach gave a small smile, momentarily tempted to mock her friend, but
decided against it. She turned to greet the newcomer.
"Hello, Mr. Touch. I apologize for the last minute change yesterday that
upset you and Miss Mim."
"You're welcome." Touch replied with a genuine smile. "I'm really
happy to meet you."
Peach simply smiled back, discreetly studying the other man. Touch
was tall, with well-de ined muscles and fair skin. He wore rectangular
glasses that framed his sharp, distinctly Chinese features, giving him
an attractive, almost sophisticated look. While Thee could be the
annoying, untrustworthy mobster type with an international bad boy
aesthetic, Touch looked clean-cut – more like a polished, intelligent
young professional.
"I apologize for being so direct with my call. Mim mentioned that
you're not very fond of business calls, but this matter is rather urgent,"
Touch said, bowing slightly. His politeness made Peach feel a little
uncomfortable.
"I just want some privacy, that's all." Peach offered a slight smile,
quickly steering the conversation back to business.
"So what kind of project are you working on, Mr. Touch?
I'm currently busy with a long-term project for Arseny, by

which may not be able to take on large assignments or those that

require extensive travel at this time."
“I understand,” Touch replied with a gentle smile and a slight sheen,
his eyes shining with an intense gleam. “Actually, I just opened a new
modeling agency. I have two or three models under contract and I was
hoping you could help me ilm the promotional shoot for them.”
Peach nodded. In an era where online media was hugely in luential, the
irst promotional shoot for new models was crucial not only to
individual reputation, but to the entire image of the agency.
"I only have three models. We would shoot in the studio, no locations
outside the city. Just two or three shots per model for promotion
would be perfect." Touch continued enthusiastically, his seriousness
making Peach smile.
“That should work. I can probably inish in a day.” Peach did a quick
mental calculation. “But I might need to clear up a few things irst. I’d
say about three or four days. Are you in a hurry, Mr.
Touch?"
“Not at all,” Touch nodded vigorously, his demeanor serious.
"I'm a huge fan of his work. Having him ilm our launch would be an
amazing start for my agency."
Peach looked at that genuine smile and sighed silently. She doubted –
She didn't normally like taking on extra projects. But next week she
had some free time while other teams inalized their winter
collections before moving on to summer lines. Plus, after postponing
her meeting yesterday and seeing Touch's continued effort to get
together, a mix of guilt and thoughtfulness washed over her.
Finally, the young photographer offered a slight smile.

"I'm glad to work with you, Mr. Touch."

Across the street, within sight of the café , a sleek black European car
with tinted windows sat motionless.
Inside, a tall Russian mobster sat cross-legged, visibly irritated. A large
iPad rested in his hands, displaying documents he was supposed to be
reading, but his smoky-grey eyes were ixed on the tall, slender igure
inside the café .
Damn! I was furious to see Peach having dinner with her ex, both smiling
broadly.
You could only watch, seething with frustration. You knew full well that
you had made a mistake yesterday and deserved to be angry, but that
didn't mean you were happy to see the other man sitting and smiling
with his ex.
And why was that little one getting so close to Peach?!
The young man gritted his teeth and narrowed his eyes dangerously.
He was ready to storm into the café if that guy dared to touch him.
Mok glanced at his boss through the rearview mirror and sighed softly,
thinking of the morning's instructions to make an "untimely visit." The
young secretary, after checking the calendar, wondered when exactly
this visit would occur. But with no meetings or appointments, he had
simply driven there without question.
Not that he could argue. The large iPad in the hands of the young
mobster was indeed open for business.
And technically they were out of the of ice.

“Boss, if you go in now, Mr. Peach will be furious,” Mok warned in a lat
tone, a hint of a smile dancing in his eyes. Thee curled her tongue
against her cheek, knowing full well that as much as she wanted to
grab someone by the collar right now, she couldn’t risk angering Peach
again.
"Do you have any information?" Thee asked, still staring at the slender
igure in the cafe.
“The information regarding Mr. Peach’s ex has been sent to you.” Mok
reported calmly, unfazed by the unusual request. By now, everything
related to Peach had become Thee’s top priority.
"As for the client's background, I hope to have it this afternoon."
Thee grunted in acknowledgement, still frowning as she reluctantly
returned her attention to the documents displayed on her iPad.
From the driver's seat, Mok checked his own iles on his tablet, but
couldn't help but sneak a glance at his boss. The tension on Thee's
sharp, brooding face remained stubbornly ixed, prompting Mok to
break the silence.
"You know this isn't normal, right?"
The change in the way he addressed Thee did not go unnoticed by
either of them. This was not a subordinate speaking to his employer –
but a childhood friend who was avoiding formalities.
Although he was raised as an adopted son to become the right-hand
man of the next head of the Arseny family, Mok was more than just an
assistant.
He was the only true friend You had allowed into your protected world.
“I know,” Thee muttered, her anger turning into restless frustration.

"Fine," Mok nodded, his tone irm and warm. He returned to his work,
but added casually, "I like seeing the two of you together. But if you're
not careful, you might lose him."
I was fully aware that what I was feeling was not normal. I knew I had
problems dealing with people; I always had.
He had never cared what anyone outside the family thought of him.
As someone standing at the top of the power hierarchy, Mok never
needed to be his friend – he was trustworthy. But what he felt for Peach
ran much deeper. Peach wasn’t just someone he liked to be around – he
was someone Thee wanted to cherish… but possess completely.
Peach was sweetness wrapped in steel – a rare and precious soul that
Thee was desperate to protect...and too obsessed with to let him slip
through her ingers.
Her look, her smile, her voice, even the smallest and most trivial
details –
He wanted everything to belong solely to him.
For the irst time, he understood what his younger brother had once
said about falling in love with someone.
It seemed... that he liked Peach.
The moment he admitted it, his heart beat wildly, as if claiming to have
igured it out. A soft warmth seeped into his chest, enveloping him in
safety, leaving him willingly trapped by the sensation.
He frowned deeply, not wanting to accept how real this emotion felt.
His every action betrayed him. He had never liked anyone before... not
really. He had been with men and women of all kinds, none of whom
had stirred anything within him. Without

Yet here he was, completely torn apart by a straightforward, no-

nonsense photographer with no hint of lirtation in him.
The vibration of his phone in his jacket pocket broke his thoughts. He
pulled it out hurriedly, squinting as he read the short message:
PE@CH: Do you want
coffee? I'm in a coffee
shop and I can get you
one.
I have to get one for
Plub anyway.
Thus, the corners of Thee's mouth rose into a rare, genuine smile, a
warmth reaching her usually cold and sharp eyes.
There was no way around it. He really liked Peach... a lot.
His gaze drifted to the cafe and saw Peach talking to someone with
that familiar, kind smile.
At that moment, the vast world around him shrank until only one
person remained in focus.
The irst thing she needed to learn was how to respect what Peach
wanted, no matter how frustrating it might be for someone used to
being in control.
"Let's go back. I need to be a good boy and wait for my coffee at the
of ice," he muttered with a slight smile, not bothering to explain if his
secretary understood what he was saying as the car moved smoothly
down the street, leaving behind a much lighter atmosphere.
For now, she just needed to be patient – a good boy who waited
silently. He would make his way into Peach's life, seamlessly becoming
an inseparable part of her.

Until the day comes when he can tie Peach to him completely and
never let him escape again.
TRANSLATION: Fx|Sx

.......... .
More iles here
 ATTENTION CALL #26
Peach couldn't shake the feeling that something strange was
happening around her.
Well, not exactly around him, but around a certain person who acts
strange enough to keep him on edge.
"Mr. Peach, I've brought you breakfast," announced a familiar black-
clad bodyguard, standing stif ly in her doorway.
Peach frowned in confusion. For three days in a row, the same man had
delivered her breakfast and an Americano right to her door. When she
asked who sent it there, the man only replied that it was the boss's
orders. Apparently, the boss knew that Peach often skipped breakfast
despite having gastritis, so he had ordered her meals to be delivered
without fail.
Peach intended to ask who this mysterious boss was, but before she
could, a message lit up her phone.
The sender? Mr. Thee.
On the irst day, Peach was so bewildered that he almost felt paranoid.
Sure, Mr. Thee had invited him to fancy dinners before, even once
bringing breakfast to his room. He bets he arranged daily food
deliveries via a bodyguard? This was new… and disturbingly
persistent. Peach thanked the bodyguard and accepted the meal, even
inviting him in for a drink or snack out of courtesy.
The man, however, refused so irmly that it seemed as if entering the
room might trigger a life-or-death crisis.
Realizing she wasn't getting anywhere, Peach politely waved him past
and retreated inside with breakfast in hand.

However, the food deliveries were not the only thing strange. Mr.
Thee's behavior had become equally peculiar.
Peach had been busy lately with reshoots and ittings for the summer
collection campaign. Determined to clear some of the work after
hours, she plans to free up time to help with a project she had
promised Mr. Touch days ago.
He planned to use his downtime for about a week while other
departments focused on completing their winter collection projects.
Two days of reshoots and a day of costume ittings lay ahead, and
while he was getting ready, the CEO, who should have been swamped
with work and too busy to worry about one of the company's many
projects, was sitting cross-legged in a corner of the studio.
Peach crossed his arms, completely confused. They were now using
Studio A, the large studio, and in a corner where work could be clearly
observed without disturbing others. A large leather couch had been
placed there, complete with a small coffee table to place things on.
At irst, he wondered where the sofa came from, but when he saw the
tall igure of the young man walk in and casually lie down on it, holding
a large iPad probably open with some documents, his curiosity
changed.
He was no longer surprised by the sudden appearance of the couch,
but he was intrigued to know why this mobster was there.
Photographers had been whining rumors that Mr. Thee was actually
there to observe someone, and that someone was certainly

the gorgeous little male model who reportedly had a candlelit dinner
with the notoriously ruthless executive. Excited whispers spread like
wild ire.
Peach frowned slightly. He wasn't interested in the rumors because he
already knew that Mr. Thee was interested in Aran, though that
interest seemed con ined to bedroom matters without any hint of
turning into anything romantic.
Or maybe Mr. Thee was actually obsessed with Aran.
His brow furrowed deeper as he pondered. The upcoming summer and
spring collections will feature shoots pairing Aran with Tawan, with a
concept focusing more on love and romance. Perhaps Mr. Thee was
thinking of doing something.
He pressed his lips together, feeling a slight but inexplicable sensation
of irritation.
Pushing away thoughts of Thee and Aran, he dismissed the matter
entirely. If Thee had changed tactics from chasing to simply keeping an
eye on the young model, that was his business. As long as it didn’t
interfere with his work, he couldn’t care less.
Still, she couldn't help but sneak another glance at the couch. There
stood Mr.
Thee, looking completely focused and serious as he worked, an
expression he didn’t see often. It made him steal glances more often
than he cared to admit. Judging by how Thee’s eyes rarely strayed from
his iPad and how tightly he frowned, it was clear that he was buried
under a mountain of tasks.
Looking away a little further, he could see the studio entrance packed
with people desperate for a chance to meet the powerful CEO.

Normally, getting into Mr. Thee's of ice was nearly impossible, let alone
setting foot on his executive loor.
So when word got out that the elusive business mogul had taken up
residence at the studio, hopefuls came locking in, thinking it was their
golden opportunity. Too bad Thee's bodyguards held the line irmly; no
outsider had managed to set foot inside. Not one.
He narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. He found it strange that his project
manager, Wivit, hadn’t shown up either. With such a rare opportunity
to get close to the CEO, one would expect Wivit to be front and center,
ready to pounce.
On the other hand, considering the large number of people trying to
catch Thee's attention, he assumed that Wivit must be overwhelmed
with work as well.
It was not surprising, given how vast the Arseny conglomerate is, with
its dozens of companies spread across several countries. Thee’s
temporary move to Thailand was intended to launch Arseny’s new
jewelry and fragrance lines. If things went according to plan, she would
likely hand the reins back to the board and move on to oversee another
venture.
The more he thought about it, the more baf led he became by the
mob's thoughts.
If you're so busy, why bother sitting here? Wouldn't it be better to work
somewhere else?
"Mr. Peach, would you like some water?" The sudden voice brought
Peach out of her thoughts. She turned around and saw the CEO's
secretary, Mok, standing nearby.
When had he arrived there?
"Thank you." Peach said with a slight smile, accepting the glass, though
she still had a frown on her face. Mok noticed and smiled subtly.
Clearly I'm in no hurry to explain anything.
"You're a little lushed, Mr. Peach. Are you okay?"
Peach touched her cheek and felt a bit of warmth radiating from her
skin. She hadn't gotten enough rest since the day she irst felt sick. All
she could do was take the medicine on time and hope the symptoms
would go away, but it had been ive days and she hadn't returned to
normal.
"Just a little sleep deprived, that's all," he replied before looking back at
you. "By the way, what's your boss doing down here?"
Mok cast a brief glance at his employer. Those smoky grey eyes were
already ixed on him, sheepish and intense. Seeing that ierce gaze,
Mok's smile widened as he turned to Peach and responded with a light
laugh.
"He's keeping an eye on someone." The secretary replied as he turned
to Peach, "Mr. Thee said that most TV drama leads always make time
for their love interests: hanging around, showing up unexpectedly,
creating 'accidental' encounters.
But since his workload was too heavy for that, he thought he would
simply transport his work here and sit where it could be seen.
Peach sighed, pressing her ingers to her temples. Her headache
seemed to get worse.
"Are you obsessed with soap operas or something?" she asked wearily.
"If Mr. Thee's constant movement affects Aran's performance, I'm
afraid I'll have to ask him to return to his of ice."

“Mr. Thee doesn’t really watch dramas, but the lady – er, I mean, his
mother – is a big fan of Thai dramas,” Mok replied, letting a small
knowing smile appear on his face.
Her eyes sparkled with mischief as she continued, "And for the record,
Mr. Thee is not here to keep an eye on Aran."
Peach blinked, her face blank with confusion. If the mob wasn't there
following the model she so obviously wanted to drag into bed, then
who was she watching? Before she could igure it out, Mok's faint smile
deepened and he smoothly changed the conversation to something
else entirely.
"Do you like combo breakfasts? Is there anything you'd like to adjust?"
"I wish he would stop sending them," Peach replied irmly, looking
uncomfortable as she added, "It's awkward. He's been sending me
breakfast every day – it's too much. I feel bad accepting it."
"There's no need to feel bad. Mr. Thee sees it as a bene it for you. You
have a history of stomach problems, and as a freelancer, you don't have
health bene its. So Mr. Thee decided to offer you this instead."
Mok told Peach irmly that he could only stare blankly at Mok's
deadpan explanation. Something about it felt completely wrong, but
the seriousness in Mok's tone left him at a loss for what to do.
He tried to think of some sort of rebuttal, but was interrupted when
his phone vibrated with a noti ication. Offering Mok a small nod as a
silent excuse, he checked the message. It was from his client for
tomorrow’s shoot. Apparently, the studio they had initially booked had
been changed. Instead of a small space near the of ice, the shoot was
scheduled at Studio B, one of the Arseny Corporation’s facilities.

Peach frowned in confusion. Studio B was the second largest in

Arseny’s catalog. Sure, his studios were technically open to outside
bookings, but they were known for being top-notch, equipped with
state-of-the-art equipment, and incredibly expensive to rent. Not to
mention, the queue to get into the studio was often packed with the
company’s own projects.
I could guess that Mr. Touch would be a rich man who could rent a
studio and skip the line to use it the next day. He must have very
powerful friends in the scene.
Maybe even at the level of president of a company?
He laughed to himself, not taking the thought too seriously. Someone
like Mr. Thee wouldn't get involved in something as trivial as renting a
studio unless they knew each other personally. But Peach couldn't help
but ind the contrast striking: the image of this mild-mannered young
man seemed completely at odds with the half-Russian mob.
Peach put her suspicions aside and quickly responded with a brief
acknowledgement just as Aran stepped forward, announcing that he
was ready to work. Peach turned to do a inal check of the lighting and
setting, raising her trusty camera to her eye.
The photographer’s focus dissolved behind the lens, especially when
working with Aran, a model he knew so well that their collaboration
had become luid and ef icient. Peach was so absorbed in his work that
he remained oblivious to the movements around him.
The young, half-Russian mobster raised his head in silence, his gaze
ixed on the slender photographer who was moving back and forth. His
smoky eyes had a satis ied gleam.

He hadn't seen the other man for several days due to con licting
schedules, and texting wasn't the same as seeing him in person.
As the man remained within her line of sight, a slow satisfaction
spread through her chest.
Sure, convincing his new employer to move into his studio might be a
bit tricky, but it would be worth the effort. Thinking about the new
employer, the young mobster couldn't help but curl his tongue slightly
against his cheek, not entirely pleased. He wanted to encourage Peach
to keep her distance, but he was afraid of seeming disruptive.
Touch, or Tatsuyuki Shohei, was the only son of the Shohei family, a
major Yakuza clan in Japan. Currently, they were sort of competitors to
the Arseny group, vying for a foothold in the Southeast Asian market.
While they weren’t outright enemies, they certainly weren’t reliable
allies either.
Therefore, the sudden offer to use Arseny's studio immediately raised
suspicions.
By chance, he and young Tatsuyaki knew each other somehow, as they
had been classmates in the past. After a long negotiation over the
phone, he claimed that it was necessary to shoot at an Arseny studio
because Aran, who had just signed on as a model for the Shohei Group
and was currently an ambassador for the Ice Arseny brand, was thus
only required to use Arseny's studios. The other party seemed puzzled
by the reasoning, but readily agreed to move to Studio I, especially
since no rental fee would be charged.
Even if they suffered a small loss, it was insigni icant to the deep
pockets of the Arseny family.
Thee casually ixed her gaze on Peach, while the surrounding team
began to whisper softly with deep sympathy.

Wivit had previously made mistakes that displeased the CEO.

Recently, all the projects under his supervision had been plagued with
problems. No matter how many times he presented his work, all he
encountered was harsh criticism. His projects were suspended and
capable team members were continuously transferred to other teams,
stripping away the prestige of his project leader.
The crew members who had elevated themselves as Peachayarat's
guardian angels began to wipe their eyes. Her "son" was incredibly
kind and adorable, and often brought them snacks. He was the nicest
photographer they had ever worked with.
Now the CEO had turned his attention to Peach, and had even come
down to closely monitor her work! His beloved Peach seemed to be
going through a dif icult time!

ATTENTION CALL #27

Today was a day off that wasn't really a day off for Peach. She had three
days off, but two of them were already booked for her ex's projects.
Her grand plan of getting plenty of sleep had been shelved and she
would have to hold her breath and wait two more days to have a
proper party.
This morning, in addition to the bodyguard who was already familiar
with the morning coffee, the tall man in black also widely reported that
Mr. Thee's younger brother would be lying in from Russia, making it
impossible for the young mobster to sneak out as usual.
Peach nodded, still somewhat confused as to why she needed to know
this.
Rumours had been circulating recently. Despite her reluctance to listen
to them, working with such a large team, especially the make-up
artists and hair stylists, meant that gossip spread faster than
government intelligence.
The news that Mr. Thee would be personally taking over the studio’s
operations had already spread widely. While most people focused on
the young photographer as a possible harbinger of bad luck, following
team leader Wivit, who was already under scrutiny, even more
interesting rumors surfaced. The most exciting whisper was about the
lovesick mobster boy, supposedly infatuated with a model to the point
of harassing him at work.
Of course, those who had worked together for a long time not only
didn't believe this, but found the idea terrifying. The intimidating-
faced mobster, who always seemed to be looking down on the world,
falling head over heels in love with someone and sitting back to wait,
was simply too strange.

Peach thought that the source of these rumors was most likely model
Aran's manager. In the past, despite Mr. Thee's history of frequently
changing partners, no rumors had ever leaked.
Anyone who dared to cross those boundaries would be instantly
expelled from the industry, with no good way out.
Aran signing with the new agency probably made her manager believe
that her connections were important enough to quietly spread rumors.
Beyond generating publicity, it could even increase the young model's
fees.
Peach nodded slightly. In fact, Mr. Thee was keeping an eye on Aran's
work, so calling it a rumor wouldn't be accurate. She could only hope
that nothing bad would happen.
Getting back to the task at hand, today's shoot was in charge of Mim,
but Mr. Touch, the boss, was noticeably absent. Not that it was strange.
As the president of a company, it was unusual for him to have
personally met Peach at a cafe that day.
Shohei Agency had three models. Besides Aran, who he was familiar
with, the other two were rising stars who were making waves recently.
One was a curvy woman, her body type clearly different from the
typical standards of a model, but possessing an undeniable appeal.
The other was a young model in his early twenties, built like an athlete,
with a fresh and adorable face, clearly a model with a promising future.
Peach secretly admired Touch's eye for talent. "These three models
were diverse and distinctive. With proper management, these three
alone could make an impressive debut. "Be careful with that! My
necklace is incredibly expensive. Your entire year's salary wouldn't
cover it!"

The high-pitched voice made him look up from his computer. Today’s
equipment wasn’t the usual one and they looked fairly new. As the lead
photographer, he would have to oversee everything personally, so he
was more than willing to dive in, preferring hands-on involvement to
mere direction.
He looked towards the source of the voice. The female model was
standing with her hands on her hips, shouting at the costume
department staff, whose face had fallen. The staff member seemed to
be a newcomer, probably still awkward and inexperienced.
Peach paused, taking in the situation. Seeing a senior member of the
costume staff step in to deal with the problem, she turned her
attention back to the lighting. She wanted a slightly darker atmosphere
to enhance the play of light, but she had to be careful not to create
unwanted shadows.
Unexpectedly, a slender igure approached, the shrill voice penetrating
close enough to startle him.
“How come the lighting is so dark? Is this crew full of inexperienced
rookies?” The model walked onto the set, waving her hand
dismissively before setting her gaze on him, “Do you know that the
photographer shooting today is a famous photographer with amazing
work? Don’t do anything stupid that might embarrass the agency!”
Peach blinked, more amused than angry. Standing with her arms
crossed, she replied in a slightly playful tone, "The lighting isn't dark at
all. I think it looks quite beautiful."
The model turned around. "Beautiful? My face looks completely
washed out. As if!"

"But the current concept revolves around light, sound and mood,
"Isn't that right? It would be more appropriate to create a slightly
darker shade to highlight the colored lights."
A small smile appeared on his lips. With no intention of clearing up the
model's misunderstanding, his smile widened in amusement.
"Or maybe the famous model hasn't even read the concept for today's
shoot? I thought the models from Shohei Agency would be more
professional."
The woman raised her inger, ready to lash out, but in an instant a tall
young man stepped between them. The soft-faced young man offered a
broad smile, deliberately ignoring the female model standing in the
middle of the set.
"Hello, Mr. Peach. I'm Kinn. I'm very excited to have the opportunity to
work with such a famous photographer!" he greeted enthusiastically,
his eyes shining with excitement.
Kinn was so tall that Peach had to tilt her head back slightly to look
him in the eyes. Judging by the look, his height was almost on par with
Mr. Thee's mixed build, though Kinn looked much younger, especially
when he smiled widely, his cheeks puffed out, exuding such bright,
cheerful energy that it was almost blinding.
A perfect subject for photography.
"Peach, nice to meet you too. I look forward to working with you," he
said, offering a small smile and a irm handshake, completely ignoring
the stunned woman standing awkwardly between them.

"I've never done a shoot that played with lighting effects like this
before. It's really exciting," Kinn said enthusiastically, practically
bursting with energy. "Honestly, I've been practicing poses in front of
the mirror, trying to igure out angles where the shadows make me feel
cool, but I couldn't ind any that felt right."
He did his homework well.
Peach couldn't help but smile at that thought. The boy was clever with
his words, conveying his effort without seeming boastful. Humble, but
clearly willing to learn.
He is going places.
"Don't overthink it. I'm aiming for something natural. We have plenty
of time today, so let's igure out the best angles together," Peach
replied, her smile widening until her eyes curved into soft crescents.
He was so caught up in the moment that he didn't notice Kinn froze
slightly, his eyes opening just a fraction as the heat lushed his ears a
vivid shade of red.
Peach was about to say something else when a familiar voice called out
from across the set. He turned to see another young model running
towards him, a beaming smile and a pretty face for its own good.
“Peach! You didn’t tell me that you were the one doing the photo shoot
today!” Aran puffed his cheeks in mock indignation, which somehow
only made him look more adorable. “We saw each other yesterday and
you didn’t say a word!”
"Surprise," Peach said with a smile, reaching up to ix Aran's hair,
which had fallen out of place due to his earlier run.

Before anyone could say another word, the woman who had been
completely ignored earlier made her move. She squeezed her
voluptuous igure into the space between Peach and Aran, deliberately
separating them. Her red dress, adorned with pink and white prints,
accentuated her curves, and her saccharine smile was so exaggerated
that it looked more disturbing than attractive.
“Oh my…, so it’s Peachayarat! I’ve been following your work for years!”
Grace chirped in a sweet tone, deliberately moving closer so that her
chest brushed his arm. “I’m so sorry about earlier! The lights were so
dim that I didn’t notice. Plus, you look so young. I never would have
imagined that someone as talented as you could look so fresh-faced!”
Peach subtly took a step back and gently approached Kinn with a faint
smile. She noticed the young man beside her stiffen, his entire body
going rigid. Curious, Peach looked at him, but it was too dark to make
out his expression.
He assumed the other party was nervous. Aran was a well-established
freelance model with a decent portfolio, and Grace had clearly been in
the industry long enough to develop her arsenal of tricks. But Kinn? He
looked like a newbie, probably with only a handful of gigs under his
belt. It wasn’t surprising that he felt tense in a situation like this.
Peach turned to Kinn and reached out to gently embrace the slightly
sweaty earth of the younger men. Kinn's hands were large but elegant,
with strength and symmetry that made them ideal for displaying
jewelry in photo shoots.
As Peach pondered this, she gave Kinn's hand a reassuring squeeze
and gave him another warm smile.

"Relax. We're going to keep it calm for this session. I want everyone to
bring their authentic selves to the table," Peach said, stroking the back
of Kinn's hand a few times before letting go. She then turned to the
group and began brie ing the three models on notebooks, her tone
clear and focused.
The plan today was to showcase three distinct styles, re lecting the
Shohei brand’s spirit of diversity. Each model would embody its own
unique vibe, with izzy drinks and lighting emphasizing freshness and
energy. Each had its own signature color.
"I knew it! A concept this complicated had to mean the photographer
was tough. Turns out it's you, Peach." Aran muttered, still grumbling as
he blinked fast enough for Peach to notice.
"What's wrong? Something in your eye?" Peach moved a little closer,
worried.
All the models were wearing coloured contact lenses for the shoot and
she was concerned that they might cause discomfort.
"Just a little irritation. I don't wear contacts often," Aram admitted,
clenching his ists to keep from rubbing his eyes.
"Don't rub them, or the lenses might scratch your eye," Peach warned,
her tone irm but gentle. Then, turning to an assistant, she called out,
"Put some eye drops in. A little lubrication should ease the irritation."
"You're going to need to be able to handle the lights later."
Aran nodded and shuf led off to nurse his eyes, leaving Peach to start
with the other models. Grace, clearly still upset about being sidelined
earlier, wasted no time stepping forward and volunteering to go irst.
Her determination to dazzle was written all over her face.

Peach didn't argue. She simply gave some instructions on adjusting the
lighting before raising the camera to begin shooting.
Her theme revolved around shades of red and pink – her out it,
magenta contact lenses and plummy crimson lips all working together
to create a bold and sultry look. Grace struck pose after pose, radiating
con idence as her gaze locked onto the lens with a smoldering
intensity.
He's not the most pleasant personality, but his performance was solid.
He took a variety of shots – close-ups, half-lengths and full-body shots,
changing angles and capturing multiple styles for each range. Satis ied,
he nodded slightly, indicating she could take a break.
As Peach was checking the footage while waiting to adjust the light
again until she noticed there was a shadow nearby. Looking up, she
found Kinn standing nearby, looking brightly with a cheerful smile that
turned his eyes into delicate crescents. Peach raised an eyebrow in
question, silently making up what was going on.
"I'm not feeling too con ident. I'm still pretty new to the modeling
world, so I'm hoping you can guide me through this," Kinn admitted,
his tone tinged with concern, though his beaming smile completely
contradicted his words.
Peach smiled again, a little overwhelmed by the sudden change in
Kinn's approach to him. But she igured it was just the boy's way of
breaking the ice and making the job seem less formal.
"Don't worry. Just relax, okay? I'll guide you through everything."

"I could really use some extra motivation," Kinn added in a playful
tone, leaning in slightly. His bright smile and the slight blush covering
his cheeks made him even more charming.
"How about this? If I do a good job today, you have to buy me dinner."
Kinn proposed, his eyes sparkling with mischief.
Peach raised an eyebrow and then giggled. This kid was smart and
clearly knew how to talk his way into making connections. As one of
the top photographers, Peach had come across plenty of band-building
tricks in the industry. But she had to admit, there was something
refreshingly earnest and endearing about Kinn’s approach.
Quickly weighing her options, Peach realized it wasn’t a bad deal. Kinn
was still a fresh face in the industry, with plenty of potential. A dinner
in exchange for solidifying a connection with an up-and-coming talent
seemed worth it, so Peach agreed with an amused smile.
Kinn's face lit up, his mile so wide he almost closed his eyes.
Full of con idence, he walked onto the set, shedding his playful
demeanor to embody a professional, hard-working model in an
instant.
Kinn's theme revolved around earth tones – brown and green. She
wore tight brown trousers paired with a light green jacket, which
perfectly complemented her green-tinted contact lenses.
The white shirt underneath was unbuttoned just enough to reveal a
hint of his toned chest, striking, a natural yet subtly sexy vibe. As Kin
progressed through his poses, Peach made occasional adjustments,
but it didn’t take long to get a variety of shots. Each captured a
different side of him; some radiated a boyish charm, while others gave
off a quiet, mysterious attraction, like a vast, wild forest that invited
exploration.

As soon as Kinn heard the word “done,” he instantly transformed back

into a boy who hadn’t even turned twenty yet. The young model ran up
to him, practically jumping with excitement as he asked to see the
photos. Peach simply laughed and handed him the camera without any
problem.
"So, does this mean I made it?" Kinn asked, looking up with a gray so
wide it almost took over his face. "Do I get that free food?"
"Start thinking about what you want to eat. The photos turned out
amazing"
Peach responded with a smile. With that, she turned her attention
back to preparing the lighting for the inal model of the day.
Peach massaged her temples as she waited, feeling the lingering
effects of fatigue. Her fever had subsided, but the dizziness wouldn’t
let up. She igured it was a mix of lack of sleep and being under the
harsh, shifting studio lights for hours. She rubbed her eyes slowly,
trying to steady herself, until the crew yelled that everything was
ready.
The last model, Aran, stepped onto the set, embodying a deep blue
theme
– a mix of mystery, sensuality and professionalism all at the same time.
Her look was striking. A dark blue blazer paired with wide trousers in a
purplish blue hue, vibrant blue contact lenses that caught the light, and
a face so beautifully balanced between masculine and feminine that it
was impossible to look away.
Peach snapped photo after photo, completely absorbed in capturing
Aran's stunning presence. But just as she was inishing up and hadn't
even had a chance to review the photos, Aran's hand came up to rub
his eye, clearly forgetting about his contact lenses.

“Ran, don’t rub your eyes!” Peach’s voice rang out as she quickly put
the camera aside and ran over. She grabbed Aran’s hand and gently
pushed it away, her brow furrowed in concern. She had seen cases
where someone rubbed their eyes while wearing contact lenses and
ended up with scratches or even serious damage to the cornea.
“It really hurts,” Ran complained, clearly uncomfortable but docile
enough to stop touching his eye. Peach immediately called for clean
water and asked the makeup team to come and take off his glasses.
While waiting, she cupped Ama’s face in both hands, gently tilting it
upwards so she could mistakenly inspect Aran’s eye for signs of injury.
He barely had time to examine Aran’s eye when the smaller model was
ripped from his hands. Before he could react, a clenched ist lunged
towards him, landing squarely on his check. Pain instantly exploded,
radiating all the way to his temple. His ear rang with a sharp, piercing
tone, drowning out everything else. The metallic taste of blood illed
his mouth as the force sent him sprawling to the ground, the room
spinning uncontrollably around him.
"What the hell are you doing to Ran? I warned you to stay away from
him!" someone roared, their voice resonant but muf led in her ears.
Her vision blurred and her head throbbed too much to understand
what was happening.
Vaguely, he saw a igure stepping between him and his attacker, heated
voices clashing in a distant haze. The commotion faded into the
background as dizziness washed over him and everything faded to
black.

ATTENTION CALL #28

Theerakit Kian Arseny was known as a cold and unyielding CEO,
intimidating and intense. His presence at meetings created an almost
suffocating pressure, with no room for compromise. Adding to his
fearsome image were persistent rumours about his links to the
Russian ma ia underworld, which portrayed him as a ruthless enforcer.
But when it came to his family, the man who demanded perfection at
work would drop everything for them without a second thought.
The tall, broad-shouldered mob heir stood with his arms crossed at
the airport, waiting with surprising patience. His face remained
impassive, betraying none of the frustration one might expect after
waiting for his younger brother, no matter how late he arrived.
Soon, another strikingly tall igure approached – a man with striking
golden hair that framed sharp features. His pale grey-green eyes
sparkled with mischief, giving him a charismatic appeal.
Although his face bore a strong resemblance to Theerakit's, it was
softened by a perpetual, playful smile that set him apart.
Who would have believed that this quiet man was destined to lead the
Arseny family – Russia’s largest ma ia syndicate?
Despite their contrasting personalities, there was no sibling rivalry for
power between them. Theerakit, resolute and unwavering, referred to
her brother Rome’s cunning and experience in navigating the
shadows. For behind-the-scenes operations, Rome’s natural cunning
made him a better candidate for the role of leader. He then gladly
stepped aside to let his younger brother take the reins, while Rome, in
turn, entrusted him with the public-facing business empire without
hesitation.

Rome walked up to his brother with a wide smile, putting his arm
around his shoulders and patting him lightly in greeting.
Then, with an almost childlike charm, he turned his playful smile on
his brother's secretary, approaching her with a mischievous glint in
his eyes.
"It's winter in Thailand now and since Mok doesn't like the cold, I came
all the way here just to keep you warm."
“Thailand doesn’t have a winter,” Mok replied latly, intentionally taking
a step back.
“Besides, you have plenty of work waiting for you. You don’t need to
worry about me.”
Rome leaned forward, letting the tip of his nose hit Mok's controller on
purpose. He was ready to continue teasing until his brother grabbed
him by the collar and pulled him back with a calm but irm expression.
"Stop being inappropriate with my secretary"
"Then why don't you give it to me?" Rome replied, unfazed, his face
lighting up with a cheeky grin.
Thee smiled slightly before motioning for his brother to follow him
somewhere less conspicuous. With two tall, strikingly handsome men
lanked by a group of men in black suits, they had become too much of
a spectacle.
Passing by a coffee shop, Thee stopped. His normally sharp gaze
softened slightly, and he inally gave in to temptation, immediately
going inside to place an order. Rente followed behind him, a hint of
confusion on his face.
"Haven't had your coffee yet, Thee?" Rome asked, following behind
without protest. It was already late in the morning and his brother,
who normally

He had his espresso irst thing in the morning, he didn't seem like the
type to skip his routine.
"I was in the mood," Thee replied curtly, without offering further
explanation.
Rome shrugged and turned to the barista, ordering without missing a
beat.
"Okay, then a latte and an espresso."
"American".
"Huh?" Rome froze mid-sentence and looked at his brother,
bewildered. "You only drink espresso. You literally said that Americans
taste like dishwater."
"I'm going to have an Americano. Do you have a problem with that?"
Thee replied, deadpan, shutting down any further questions.
They seemed ready to continue discussing coffee preferences when
the secretary entered the shop with a laconic expression. Mok walked
straight to his boss, leaning in slightly to whisper something under his
breath.
"Boss, Miss Plub just applied for an emergency leave."
Having recently upgraded the photographer's importance in his
mental hierarchy, Mok had extended that priority to Peach's younger
sister as well. Any sudden requests for leave now went straight to his
desk.
Thee's brow furrowed slightly as Rome turned to listen with clear
interest.
"He said his brother has been admitted to the hospital."

That single statement caused Thee’s smoky grey eyes to widen in

alarm. The atmosphere instantly became sti ling, an oppressive weight
illing the room. Mok gulped, forcing his voice to remain steady as he
continued.
"I've already arranged a car, sir. I'll take care of the afternoon schedule
in your absence."
Thee nodded curtly before grabbing Mok's arm and pulling him
towards Roma in one swift motion. Roma, ever agile, reached out his
hands and caught the surprised secretary with a smile, hugging the
smaller man to his chest.
“Take care of him for me,” the young mobster ordered, nodding to his
brother before exiting the coffee shop without waiting for his drink.
He headed determinedly towards the exit, where his sleek black car
was already waiting. Without a word, he slid into the backseat.
Another trusted bodyguard in the driver’s seat acknowledged him with
a single nod, needing no further instructions. The car roared to life and
immediately accelerated. As the icy atmosphere inside the car
thickened, the vehicle seemed to accelerate in tandem. Luckily, the
hospital where the young photographer was admitted was not too far
from the city center. About forty minutes later, after driving along the
highway, the car smoothly stopped in front of the hospital.
As soon as Thee stepped out of the car, a young PR woman
energetically clicked her heels towards him. Her con ident gait couldn’t
hide the slight tremor in her forced smile, betraying how nervous she
was. If it hadn’t been for the hospital director personally ordering her
to provide the best VIP service possible, she wouldn’t have dared to
approach him.
"Lead the way," Thee ordered curtly, offering no further explanation.
He had already called the hospital director directly to inform him of his
arrival and the reason for his visit. He had no intention of wasting
another second.
After taking the elevator up to the private room, he walked towards the
last roots at the end of the hallway. He knocked lightly a couple of
times before opening the door without waiting for permission, on a
cane the occupant was still resting.
He didn't expect to ind Peach lying there, wide awake, staring at him
with curious eyes. Aside from looking a little pale, he seemed ine.
"Mr. Thee? Don't you have any business to attend to today?" Peach
asked, tilting her head slowly – a gesture that made it clear she wasn't
feeling her best.
“Why didn’t you call me when you were admitted?!” Thee demanded
sharply, moving closer as she scanned Peach from top to bottom. Her
gaze lingered on Peach’s bruised cheek and the cracked corner of her
lips, both of which were visibly red and swollen. Her brow furrowed
even further.
"What happened? Why are you in the hospital?"
"The doctor said I've been working too hard, too," Peach admitted
sheepishly. "I got a little dizzy... and I think my blood sugar dropped,
too, probably because I skipped dinner last night."
He gave a weak, apologetic smile and held up his hand that still had the
IV in it. “I got a saline drip. The doctor said I can go once it’s done.”

"But didn't the doctor recommend staying one more night... just to be
safe?"
The unfamiliar voice came from across the room, startling Thee. A tall
man she didn't recognize emerged from the seating area reserved for
visitors, which she hadn't noticed when she irst entered.
Thee's sharp gaze swept over the newcomer, a youthful-looking boy
who couldn't have been more than twenty years old. He was tall and
athletic, with a wide, bright smile that made his eyes curve charmingly.
Objectively speaking, the boy was attractive model material, with a
promising future in the industry.
“For the trouble I went through in bringing you here, at least stay one
more night and make it worth the effort,” the young man said with an
easy smile directed at Peach Thee’s forehead. Irritation bubbled up,
threatening to break through his calm façade. He mentally crossed out
the boy’s ‘promising future’ right then and there. Whatever future this
guy had, it de initely wasn’t going to develop anywhere near as far.
Take who?!
He walked over, deliberately ignoring the young man as he suppressed
his annoyance as much as possible.
"Why did he have to carry you?" His tone was sharp and irm, though
the ingers lightly caressing Peach's cheek were painfully gentle, as if
they were touching fragile butter ly wings.
"I fainted," Peach admitted shyly. "He was nearby, so he helped carry
me." They, as if remembering their manners, quickly

He added: "I forgot to introduce you. This is Mr. Thee, my boss. And
that's Kinn, a model I was photographing today."
Peach's eyes shifted, avoiding Thee's gaze, a clear sign that she was
overlooking some details. But she decided not to press it for the
moment. Peach needed rest more than anything else.
The things he wanted to know... he could igure out on his own later.
"Thank you for bringing my person here," Thee said coldly, giving Kinn
a pointed look that radiated pure disgust. "You may leave now, I'll take
care of things from here. There's no need for you to stay."
“Glad to help.” Kinn’s smile widened, but this time, his eyes didn’t
crinkle with warmth. They glittered with a sharp, knowing edge.
“Oh, you two are leaving already,” Peach interjected in mild
exasperation. Neither of them seemed to hear him. He had already
turned his back on Kinn, dismissing the young man completely as if he
didn’t exist. His focus was completely on Peach, lying pale and
exhausted on the hospital bed.
“I can’t leave when there’s no one to take care of you,” Thee murmured,
her ingers brushing the corner of his mouth. His sharp gaze darkened
brie ly before returning to normal, though he still paid no attention to
the model in the room. His eyes remained ixed on Peach’s pale face.
After only a day apart, there he was, lying weak and lifeless in a
hospital bed. How could Thee leave?
“I’ll be ine. I just have to stay here until the IV runs out.” Peach sighed,
sounding completely bored. “I promise your project won’t be delayed.
Or better yet, give me a laptop – I can get some work done here.”
"What job could be more important than you?" Thee murmured, her
hand moving gently from Peach's cheek to her slender neck.

The warmth of that soft skin tugged at his senses, making it nearly
impossible to let go. "Stay tonight. Let the doctor monitor you. Think
of it as getting some rest, something you really need."
“There’s no point in staying. It’s just a waste of time and money.”
Peach’s voice took on a playful tone, making Thee pause. Her eyes
widened in mild surprise. She hadn’t expected such a cute, grumpy
reaction – and she de initely hadn’t expected the way it made her heart
skip a beat.
Ever since he realized how he truly felt about Peach, keeping his
emotions under control had become increasingly dif icult.
"Stay. I'll cover the hospital bill," Thee insisted, tightening the blanket
around Peach.
His eyes fell on a bruise on Peach's arm, his expression instantly
hardening. "What happened here?"
"I probably hit something when I fell. It's just a bruise, no big deal."
Peach replied casually, waving her arm to show it off.
“And this one.” Thee’s ingers brushed over the faint mark on Peach’s
cheek, her chest tightening from the night. The more she looked, the
more it hurt. “I’m sure this isn’t from a simple fall.”
Peach's face tightened, clearly uncomfortable. Thee narrowed her eyes,
her ingers lingering near Peach's lips for a moment before reluctantly
withdrawing.
"I'll arrange for you to be moved to a VIP room. Get a good rest."
Your sister should be arriving soon." Thee's gaze shifted to the other

man in the room, his expression turning cold. "You should go now.
I won't bother you anymore."
"No problem. I'd be happy to help," the young man replied with a calm
smile, unfazed by the icy atmosphere.
Thee frowned. She wanted nothing more than to kick the guy out, but
she was afraid of upsetting Peach, who lay pale and tired in the
hospital bed. In the end, she instructed one of her bodyguards to keep
an eye out and report my suspicious behavior. In the meantime, she
would speak to the hospital director about the possibility of moving
Peach to a better room.
And while he was at it, he would get to the bottom of what really
happened.
With long strides, Thee left the room, determined to quickly return and
deal with the pesky model once and for all. However, just as he was
about to turn the corner into the hospital's common room, he caught
snatches of a heated conversation. His footsteps stopped. Crossing his
arms over his chest, he will be listened to intently, unconcerned about
being eavesdropped.
He wouldn't have cared... if they hadn't mentioned Peach's name.
Peeking into the rooms, he recognized the two igures arguing –
models who were currently working on a campaign for their company.
Their angry voices could be heard even after the glass door closed.
"Why don't you listen to me? I told you nothing's wrong!"
“Listen? You were practically kissing him, Ran! All I hear is his name,”
the actor sneered, tightly grabbing the smaller model’s wrist and
pulling him closer. “What? You love him that much? Is that why you
keep defending him?”

"The person I like is you, Tawan." Aran's voice lowered, trembling with
pent-up emotion as she released her wrist from the actor's grasp.
"Do you even know why I can't be with you, even though I like you so
much? It's because of the way you act – like this!"
Aran pulled away and pushed the actor back, tears streaming down his
cheeks. Tawan stared at him, bewildered and hurt, having no idea why
Aman was so heartbroken.
Tawan was the only son of a rising business family. His parents ran
their own successful companies. Since childhood, he had always gotten
what he wanted, simply by asking or pointing. He was used to being
number one without ever having to compete.
The only exception was the handsome-faced model, Aran. No matter
how hard Tawan tried, he could never win Aran's heart. Worse, Aran
treated everyone equally, with the same warm and friendly smile.
It was never special in Aran.
Fear slowly crept into Tawan’s heart, the fear of losing the one person
he couldn’t control. He heard the photographer’s name all too often
lately. Every time Aran mentioned him, his eyes would sparkle with joy
and his entire demeanor would brighten. The jealousy burning inside
Tawan refused to be tamed.
"Be honest with me. You like him, don't you? Why do you keep
defending him all the time?" Tawan cried out, unable to believe Aran's
previous declarations of love.
"I don't think of Peach as anything more than a friend. He's like an
older brother to me. The one I like... is you, Tawan. But if you keep
acting like this, then it's over. Get out of my life."

"No way. You're mine. I'll never let anyone take you from me!"
He grabbed Aran's arm again, only for the model to break free, his eyes
illed with determination.
“You think hitting Peach proves you love me? That was the most
disgusting thing you could have done. Get out of my life. If you can’t
work things out, stop playing with me.” Aran’s voice took on a
dangerous warning. Aran took a irm step back. “I’m not a possession
you can claim. I don’t need anyone’s permission to live my life. I’ve
already bowed my head and apologized to Peach on your behalf. That’s
as far as I’m willing to go. From now on… come on… we’re done. We
don’t belong together.”
Aran turned his back and walked away, leaving Tawan screaming his
name and chasing him in vain. Neither of them noticed the imposing
igure standing in the shadows, arms crossed, having heard every
word of their heated conversation. His stormy grey eyes darkened,
shining with a ierce, predatory light.
Finally, everything is understood.
 ATTENTION CALL #29
Peach stared at the closed door and let out a silent sigh.
The atmosphere from a moment ago still lingered, heavy and eerie in a
way he couldn't explain.
Mr. Thee clearly didn't like Kinn; that much was obvious. But why?
Was it personal? Or was Thee simply aloof by nature, the kind of
unpeople-minded person who found it nearly impossible to make
friends?
None of it made any sense. What puzzled Peach even more was why Mr.
Thee, who was supposedly buried in work and, if she remembered
correctly, was scheduled to pick up his younger brother at the airport
today, had shown up at the hospital unannounced.
Perhaps Mok, Thee's omniscient secretary, had warned him.
Although he couldn't understand what had made Thee come so quickly,
Arseny couldn't deny the strange warmth that blossomed inside him.
If you were to map out your relationships, Mr. Thee wouldn't even
appear on the chart, not even as a trusted friend.
And yet, somehow, Thee kept slipping past her defenses, little by little.
She didn't know where Mr. Thee it into her life, but having him around
always seemed to calm her mind, melting away fears she hadn't
realized she still held.
Maybe this was what it felt like to have someone powerful by your side,
someone who could protect you when things went wrong.

Content with placing Mr. Thee in the “reliable backup when needed”
category, Peach relaxed, letting the tension ease until sleep began to
tug at her heavy eyelids once more.
Just as Peach was falling asleep, the model sitting next to her bed
pulled up his chair and broke the silence.
"You're really not going to press charges?" Kinn asked, frowning in
genuine frustration. His intensity made Peach blush a little despite
herself.
He hadn't been unconscious for long and woke up shortly after Kinn
took him to the hospital. At irst he thought he might be able to leave
straight away, but the world tilted dangerously when he tried to stand
up. In the end, he was forced to stay overnight and be put on an
intravenous drip.
That's when Aran appeared, sobbing so hard that his contact lenses fell
out and his nose and eyes were red and swollen. As soon as he reached
Peach's bedside, he bowed deeply and apologized loudly, his voice
shaking with desperation.
Peach might be forgiving toward family, but she had never been one to
show mercy to outsiders – especially when things escalated into
physical violence. She had every intention of pressing charges, if only
to cover her medical expenses. There was no way she was going to
suffer without consequences. But when Aran knelt there, head bowed
and tears streaming down her face, begging for forgiveness, Peach
couldn't hold on to her anger.
After all, Aran was someone she'd known for years. Cutting ties felt
completely... wrong.
Aran promised that he would drag Tawan to apologize properly and
insisted on covering all the medical costs. Arseny had told him not to

I had to do that – whoever caused the problem should take

responsibility, not Aran.
Aran just smiled slightly and said that it was the last thing he could do
for Tawan. Peach didn't quite understand what he meant by that, but
seeing the determination in Aran's eyes, she hadn't insisted any
further.
“But I can’t accept any more job offers from Tawan,” she had told Aran
clearly. No matter how close they were, Peach couldn’t pretend that
nothing had happened. “I won’t feel comfortable working with him
anymore. Don’t worry, I won’t badmouth him or have anyone blacklist
him. It’s just me. I can’t accept his projects again.”
Aran nodded in calm understanding, bowing once more before
apologizing with a resolute look, so Peach didn't ask any more
questions after that.
He could only hope that Tawan wouldn't lose his mind and attack
someone again.
Peach snapped back to reality and looked at Kinn. The tall model still
had a deep scowl on, frustration radiating off of him with no signs of
devouring.
The news from the visiting team was that Kinn had almost pinched
Tawan at that very moment. A ight would have almost broken out if
Aran hadn't yelled at him to help get Peach to the hospital.
What a way to start a new modeling agency, it wasn't exactly the
auspicious start they were hoping for.
"I couldn't help it. Ran is like a little brother to me," Peach admitted
with a hint of exasperation. Although she cared for Aran, she had
already decided that this would be the irst and last time she would let
something like this slide. If something like this were to happen again,
even if it put her reputation at risk,

would press charges without a second thought. "Let's talk about you
instead."
He turned to Kinn, his lips curling into an amused smile. "Weren't you
scared back there? That's a Russian mob boss you were messing with."
"Terri ied," Kinn admitted, laughing as he raised a shaking hand.
"Look at this – my hand is still shaking like crazy!"
"Then why were you trying to pick a ight!"
Peach chuckled, showing zero sympathy for Kinn's dramatic display.
He still couldn't understand why those two had taken such an instant
dislike to each other. The other guy was a half-Russian mob boss and
president of a company, not exactly someone who should care enough
to argue with a rookie model.
Maybe it was just bad chemistry. Some people just clash at irst sight
for no logical reason. Those two seemed to it that description
perfectly.
“If I let fear get the better of me, I’ll lose before the ight even starts,”
Kinn grumbled, pouting when Peach didn’t offer any words of comfort.
But in true Kinn fashion, he quickly perked up and lashed a wide grin.
“Are you hungry?”
"I can run down and get you something to eat. Or maybe something
sweet to cheer you up?"
"I don't eat sweets."
The door opened with a soft creak, interrupting the conversation. A
tall, broad-shouldered man entered the room, carrying a bag.
of delicacies from a popular bakery and a steaming cup of hot milk that
illed the air with a comforting aroma.
“I know you prefer coffee, but you need to rest. Warm milk will be
better for you,” Mr. Thee said, placing the items on the side table
before adjusting the hospital bed until its occupant was half sitting,
half lying down. Carefully, he wrapped the cup in a clean cloth to
prevent the heat from burning his hand. Once satis ied with the
temperature, he would hand it to her.
Peach accepted the cup, bewildered but touched. The rich, warm
aroma of milk calmed his nerves. He took a slow sip and savored the
creamy warmth mixed with just a hint of natural sweetness, no sugar
added. One sip was enough to send a comforting warmth spreading
through his chest.
"Thank you... I didn't mean to bother you." he said, looking up with a
soft smile that he couldn't quite suppress. His heart swelled with an
unfamiliar feeling that he couldn't quite put into words.
He was used to being the one to take care of others. Having someone
take care of him like this felt... strange.
But he was a good kind of weird.
Thee froze for a split second, her gaze shifting.
His ears seemed to take on a slight pink tint before he quickly regained
his usual composure, so quickly that Peach wondered if she had
imagined it. Surely a mobster wouldn't get lustered by something as
simple as a thank you.
"It's no bother. For you, I don't mind," Thee replied, her voice softer
than usual. Even her eyes showed a rare warmth, and a slight, almost
imperceptible smile appeared on her lips.
Absurdly, it was

He stroked his chin with a long inger, as if deep in thought. “Maybe I

should invest in a dairy company while I’m at it,” he muttered aloud.
Peach blinked, momentarily stunned, before deciding it was best to
pretend she hadn’t heard that.
"Didn't Mok come with you?" he asked, steering the conversation to
safer ground. "Your secretary is usually stuck by your side all the time,
isn't he?"
"Mok will stay behind to take care of my little brother. He just arrived
from Russia today and there's no way I'm letting him out of my sight,"
Thee said, then suddenly remembered something. "I guess I'll have to
extend Mok's leave. Tonight's going to be tough and he'll probably be
off duty tomorrow too."
Peach frowned in bewilderment. She couldn’t help but wonder: what
kind of person was Mr. Thee’s brother? How could someone like Mok,
who was so perceptive and always on top of things, end up so
exhausted like that?
Thee cleared her throat awkwardly, clearly dodging the unasked
question. She then turned her sharp gaze to the model sitting stif ly
beside the bed. Her eyes narrowed slightly and the corner of her
mouth twitched into a leeting smile, a smirk of someone who was
clearly in control. But it disappeared as quickly as it appeared.
“Aren’t you going to leave already?” The mob boss sank into the chair
on the other side of the bed, crossing one leg over the other. His hands
clasped together, and he gave off the vibe of someone about to
negotiate a high-stakes deal. “I should thank you for taking care of my
man. Everything’s settled now, so you can go. I’m not going to keep
you.”

"I'm worried about Peach. I'm not going anywhere yet," Kinn replied
with a smile that felt oddly stiff, almost forced. It wasn't the same
cheerful smile you'd seen from him before. Not even clone. "Mr.
"Thee, you are the CEO of a company, right? You must be overwhelmed
with work. Surely, you don't need to bother staying here just because
your photographer is sick. I've got you covered."
"These days, work can be handled on an iPad, in case you didn't know,"
the mobster replied, his smile deepening as his smoky grey eyes shone
with a slow-burning intensity. "And
Since my man is the one who is injured, that takes priority over any
work."
Lying between the two men glaring daggers at each other, Peach calmly
sipped her warm milk, feeling like she was in the front row of a drama.
It was oddly entertaining, even if she couldn't understand their
conversation.
Before either of them could say anything else, there was a knock at the
door. Instantly, the ierce gazes of the two men turned towards him in
unison, as if they were ready to pounce. The person who opened the
door froze, shocked by the sheer tension in the room.
The newcomer was a bald, plum-coloured man with a shiny, polished
head, save for ine streaks of grey hair on either side. His face was
round.
Slightly wrinkled, he had an air of arrogance about him. His shifty,
narrowed eyes moved with a mischief that made him seem as
trustworthy as an overfed man.
Despite having entered the room with a nervous step, he had clearly
felt con idence and great boldness when he knocked on the door
moments before.

"Good evening. I am a legal representative of Mr. Tawan's family.

“You can call me Yuth,” the middle-aged lawyer introduced himself,
leaning toward the older side of that spectrum, as he extended his
business card. However, none of the three younger men in the room
made any move to take it.
Kinn pointedly ignored Thee, rummaging through the bag of snacks he
had bought for him, showing no respect for the man who had paid for
them. Thee’s gaze brie ly shifted to the model when she saw him pull
out a snack to share, but quickly refocused on the hapless lawyer. The
relaxed atmosphere was instantly gone, replaced by a cold, tense air.
Peach looked at the growing pressure emanating from the mob boss
and decided to let her self-proclaimed protector handle this. With a
slight smile, she turned her attention to the snacks, joining Kinn in
illing her stomach without a care in the world.
Mr. Thee always seemed to enjoy showing off his connections and
power, basking in the satisfaction of being asked for help. So, Peach
igured she might as well make the most of that and play the role of the
meek, grateful subordinate to perfection.
"Are you here to negotiate compensation?"
Mr. Thee’s voice was calm and irm, but it carried with it a chill that
made Yuth shiver where he stood. The tense coldness emanating from
the mob boss contrasted drastically with the calmness of Peach, who
sat on the bed, cheeks puffed out like a squirrel as he chewed on bread,
completely unconcerned.
Damn!

His employer had not mentioned that he would ind himself in such a
situation. terrifying!
Yuth quickly put his business card in his pocket and wiped the candy
off his shiny head with a handkerchief. Forcing a polite, professional
smile, he tried to ease the tension in the room.
“Of course, this is entirely our fault,” the middle-aged lawyer said in an
overly deferential tone. There was no need to act so submissive. After
all, his employer was a newly minted millionaire, one of the most
successful businessmen in the country. How dif icult could it be to sort
things out after his boss’s son lost his temper and hit a defenseless
photographer? This should have been a piece of cake. Except now,
nothing was going as expected. Were they not supposed to have
connections?
"And how exactly do you plan to make up for it?" Thee's voice was
sharp and intimidating, her domineering demeanor catching even
Peach off guard. Still, Peach wasn't scared.
He knew Thee was defending him, and even though he didn't
understand why, it was enough to focus.
"Of course, we will cover all medical expenses in full, down to the last
penny," Yuth said quickly, pulling out a checkbook with practiced
con idence. "And for the emotional distress caused, we would be happy
to offer additional compensation as an apology."
When Yuth named a hefty igure in the tens of thousands, Peach’s
eyebrows rose in surprise. He had no intention of pressing charges,
but such a large payment? That was a pleasant surprise. He hadn’t
expected things to work out so well for him.
But clearly, the mob boss didn't think the same.

“You call that a responsible offer?” Thee scoffed, his voice illed with
contempt. “I didn’t realize the Veeraarpakorn family was short of
money. Naming your son Tawan – “Sun” – only for him to become so
stingy.” Peach turned to look at him, stunned by his audacity. A small
pang, a feeling of regret washed over him at the potential loss of that
generous sum. Sensing Peach’s gaze, Thee immediately refocused his
attention on him. The icy tension melted into something softer as
their eyes met. Thee’s lips curved into a smug, almost playful smile, as
if silently asking: Did I not do well?
Not letting the poor, almost veteran lawyer pass out in his hospital
room was probably an achievement in itself.
“That’s quite a bit of money.” Peach murmured softly, leaning towards
the closet. “Besides, I already promised Aran that I wouldn’t press
charges. I’m not going to sue them for damages anyway.”
“How is that a lot of money? I could give you ten or even a hundred
times more than that.” Thee straightened her posture, her tone
disdainful.
“And why would I take your money, Mr. Thee?” he replied, interrupting
the mob boss’s strange train of thought. “Be reasonable. I already said I
wouldn’t sue. Besides, private hospital fees aren’t cheap. I don’t even
know why Kinn dragged me to a fancy hospital like this in the irst
place.”
"You won't sue him, but Arseny will. Causing a scene in Arseny's studio,
tarnishing the company's reputation, and harming an employee both
physically and emotionally – it's only natural that Arseny would take
legal action." The young ma ia man replied, his tone irm and steady, as
if that was the most logical conclusion in the world – while the lawyer
visibly paled as if all the implications had hit him.

They struck. Thee's words seemed to echo ominously in his mind.

Who didn't know Arseny? How had a simple assault on a humble
photographer turned into a confrontation with that powerful family?
Peach couldn't suppress a smile. While she felt a little guilty towards
Aran, she couldn't deny how entertaining it was to watch him handle
the situation on her behalf. And honestly, there was a certain thrill in
letting the mob boss exert his in luence like this. After all, it wasn't
every day that someone would rush to solve her problems so
decisively.
“The truth is, I’ve caused another problem for your company,” Peach
said in a falsely sad tone, carefully testing the waters. Knowing that
Thee was irmly on his side and so lenient towards him, he couldn’t
help but take a few more risks. “I already mentioned that I don’t feel
comfortable working with Tawan anymore. If there’s any project with
him as a model, I’ll have to decline. But I’ve signed a long-term contract
with your company. If I want to terminate it, will there be any
penalties?”
Thee's eyebrows immediately furrowed and her expression darkened.
Peach froze, inwardly berating himself for overstepping his bounds. He
had gotten too comfortable, taking advantage of Thee's kindness,
forgetting that when it came to business and pro it, a mob boss wasn't
likely to bend.
Bracing herself for a harsh reprimand, Peach was shocked when the
question came out completely out of place.
"Why would you need to break the contract?" the mobster asked, his
tone illed with disgust.

"The shoots for the summer and spring collections are in pairs with
Aran and Tawan. I can't really work on those projects."
Peach muttered in a hesitant voice.
"So what?" Thee crossed her arms, her gaze irm and unwavering. "If I
have to choose, I'll choose you every time."
Peach blinked, stunned into silence, her eyes widening slightly.
A sudden wave of heat rose to her cheeks and she could feel the heat
spreading like wild ire.
She bit her lip and looked down in a futile attempt to calm her racing
heart. Taking a deep breath, she forced herself to ight back.
"If it's a choice between the model and the photographer, Mr. Thee, you
should choose the model. Otherwise, you'll have to re-shoot
everything. The project will be delayed and you'll lose money."
Thee's gaze lingered on Peach's lushed cheeks, her expression
softening. She reached out and took Peach's hand in hers, her thumb
gently brushing across her missing hand. Her voice, calm and
determined, left no room for doubt.
"Choosing you is the most valuable investment I could make."
Peach froze, forgetting how to breathe for a moment. Without
thinking, she grabbed the blanket and pulled it over her head, taking
refuge in her sanctuary. Thee’s eyes lingered on her now empty hand, a
lash of nostalgia crossing her face. Then, as if effortlessly changing her
attitude, she turned to throw a cocky, mocking grin at the model who
was taking himself seriously across the room.
"I think we're done here with the lawyer." Thee turned to the middle-
aged man, her tone cutting through the room like ice.

Towering to his full height, Thee’s imposing igure left no doubt that
the convention was over. His gaze fell upon the man like a boot
squashing an insect. “Arseny will no longer be working with the
Veeraarpakorn family, so tell that to your boss.”
The lawyer paled visibly, shaking his head in a hurried gesture as he
practically ran away from the mother. He looked like a man who had
barely escaped a brush with death. The mob boss walked to the door,
opening it just enough to give orders to the bodyguard standing
outside. His voice was calm, but had an undertone of steel.
“Blacklist the Veeraarpakorn conglomerate on all platforms. I will not
work with them in any way. Cancel the winter collection as well – I
want it to be re-shot from scratch.” Thee paused for a moment, her
gaze falling into a chilling glint that lashed in her eyes. “Take more
time to visit the actor, Tawan. He hit one of my own. If that hand of his
can’t do any better, there’s no need to keep it.”
The bodyguard nodded silently and left to carry out orders.
Meanwhile, the young ma ia man ordered the remaining guards to
keep a strict watch. With this taken care of, he softened his expression
back to neutral, replacing the cold threat with a faint smile before
returning to the room.

ATTENTION CALL #30

Theerakit arranged for Peach to be moved to a VIP ward, a luxurious
hospital suite where even the companion area seemed designed for
royalty. There was a small bar, a privacy screen for the patient, a guest
lounge with luxurious refreshments, a compact bed for the night, and
entertainment equipment that seemed excessive for a one-night stay.
Was all this really necessary? He would only be staying one more night.
Still, Peach kept her mouth shut and let the mob boss have his way.
Theerakit inspected the room until he was satis ied that everything
was in order. After sharing lunch, he inally left, but not before giving
Kinn strict instructions to return to him.
Kinn grumbled, but inally complied, shuf ling along like a child forced
to leave his favorite playground.
Once peace and quiet took over the room, Peach thought she might as
well catch up on the sleep she had missed. But as much as she wanted
to relax, sleep wouldn't come. She could only lie on her back, staring at
the ceiling.
In the silence, Mr. Thee’s voice echoed in his mind – irm and serious,
without a hint of lirtation. Yet those simple words made his heart
pound like a jackhammer, heat rising to his face until he was sure it
must be bright red.
What the hell? He was as straight as they come, he'd dated women all
his life. How could he be thrown off balance by a fucking mob boss like
that?

Growling in frustration, he pulled the blanket over his head, almost

screaming at her just to release the pressure building up in his chest.
Even now, he couldn’t understand what was going on. Why did the
ierce and intimidating mob leader, who had been hopelessly in love
with a pretty-faced model, suddenly seem to have shifted his focus to
him?
Peach wasn't stupid. Even if his heart had tried to avoid reality from
time to time, he couldn't ignore the change that occurred after Thee
declared that she was done with Aran. No matter how much he tried to
convince himself that he was thinking too much, the signs were
undeniable.
Especially lately – it had become so obvious that I couldn't run away
from it anymore.
He opened his eyes, determined to let go of the swirling thoughts and
get some much-needed rest. But just as he began to relax, there was a
knock at the door. He opened his eyes to see his younger sister coming
in, looking like she was about to cry, so he called out to her softly,
holding out his arms.
Her eyes illed with tears, her lips trembling as she ran to him,
throwing herself into his arms. Her thin arms wrapped around him
tightly as warm tears soaked his hospital gown, scaring his skin as
guilt became tangible.
"It's okay, baby. Don't cry. I'm okay. I'm strong. See?" Peach kissed his
temple and gently rubbed his slender shoulders. He murmured
soothing words over and over until her sobs calmed down and he
slowly loosened his grip.
Plub pulled away with a pout, her eyes and nose red from crying, still
looking visibly upset. He caressed her cheek, touching it gently, and
offered her a small, apologetic smile.

"I'm so sorry for worrying you, I promise I'll be more careful next
time." His ingers brushed beneath her eyes. "No more tears, okay?
Your eyes will swell up. It's all my fault. I swear I'll be more cautious. No
more trying too hard."
“You better mean it!” she huffed, her eyes narrowing as if she was
ready to blame him. He nodded seriously, his expression solemn
enough to ease her concern.
With a reluctant sigh, she abandoned her angry gaze, but moved closer,
her ingers gently brushing the slight bruise that still lingered on his
cheek. Cold anger lashed in her eyes.
“Why did they beat you up in the irst place?” he grumbled, his cheeks
puf ing out slightly in frustration. “And what kind of useless boss do
you have now? How could they let a lunatic come into the studio and
beat you up like that?”
"The CEO is not a security guard, Plub. He can't watch over me all day."
He chuckled, ruf ling her hair playfully,
"Come on, stop walking already. What treats did you bring me?"
It only took a couple more jokes before Plub's annoyance disappeared.
She excitedly dug through her bag and pulled out a stash of snacks.
Peach nearly fell to his knees in obeisance. Just one meal of bland
hospital food had nearly defeated him.
She wasn't on any strict diet, but "healthy" seemed to be the hospital's
default setting, a nightmare for someone who would choose meat over
vegetables any day. She wasted no time and uncovered a cheese-
lavored snack. The salty, MSG- illed taste exploded in her mouth,
giving her a moment of ecstasy, until her earlier thoughts began to
return, accompanied by a feeling of unease she couldn't quite shake.

"What would you say... if I told you that I might be... interested in
someone?"
Her voice trailed off and the question escaped before she could stop it.
He linched, morti ied, just as Plub's eyes widened with excitement.
She practically leapt to the edge of the bed, her expression brightening
as if she'd hit the gossip jackpot.
"Who? Where? When? Just spill it all! Is anyone interested in you now?"
she ired questions at top speed, grabbing his arm and shaking it with
surprising strength for someone so small. "Wait,
"Is it Mim? Is the old lame rekindling? But I don't like her! She broke
my older brother's heart – you can't get back with her!"
"It's not Mim," he muttered, feeling his face grow hot.
Plub wasn't about to let it go. "Mim, no. Is that that new model from
your last shoot? She did look a little scary, though."
"... It's not her."
“Hmmm…” She frowned, frowning in serious contemplation. “Are
there any other girls in your team that I don’t know about? Or… did
Shohei’s agency hire new staff besides Mim?”
Peach opened her mouth as if she was about to say something, but
closed it again, clearly at a loss for words.
He sat there, idgeting, trying to igure out how to string together a
coherent sentence. It took him several moments before he inally
mumbled.
"No... not a girl."

His hands lew up to cover his face as if that could somehow protect
him from the whirlwind of emotions that was running through him.
Her cheeks burned, and for a moment she thought she might actually
waste away, not from sadness, but from pure embarrassment.
He had never hidden anything about his love life from his sister before.
Plub knew all the girls he'd dated, no secrets, no shame. But this time...
this time it felt different – more intense, more uncertain.
Maybe because he was a boy.
Plub stood frozen like a statue, her mouth hanging open and her eyes
bulging as if they were going to pop out of her head. She snapped her
mouth shut a second later, slapping it with both hands as if she were
trying to suppress a second-hand secret of shame. After a few
moments of frantic mental regrouping, she cleared her throat
dramatically, Jean entered with an almost conspiratorial glint in his
eyes and whispered.
"Peach... do you like boys?"
"No," she practically screamed, her face burning with embarrassment
from her ears to her neck. "I just... thought maybe someone was..."
lirting with me. That's all. I don't like him or anything."
"If it's just lirting, you can ignore it, right?" he teased, lashing a
mischievous smile and his eyes sparkling with mischief.
"I'm ignoring it," he muttered, his voice barely audible now, shifting
awkwardly in place. "It's just that... maybe... I felt something... a little
bit."
Plub's eyes widened even more, practically shining with curiosity. She
grabbed his arm and shook him excitedly, like a

child asking for candy. “Who?! Who’s making my brother feel things?
Spit it out!” The harder he pressed, the more Peach’s face burned.
Before he could delve any further into this mortifying conversation,
she pulled the blanket over her head and crawled into it like she was a
human-sized cocoon. And just like that, the conversation ended.
"Who?! Tell me right now!" Plub demanded, still illed with excitement.
Her eyes sparkled, matching her wide smile, as if she was caught in the
middle of the most intense scene in her favorite novel.
"Who is it that's making you so nervous? I'm dying to know!"
"Watch your mouth." Peach peeked her head out from under the
blanket and lightly poked his forehead. His chest still felt tight with
unease. "You... don't hate me, do you?"
Plub blinked, confusion crossing her face. But Peach couldn't meet her
eyes. She lowered her eyes and noticed her ingers were shaking
slightly.
She’d never judged anyone by who they loved. But she’d still never
liked a boy before. Just thinking about it was like stepping into
uncharted waters, far from the safety of the familiar. Safe, but lonely.
The space she’d always thought was safe now felt empty.
"Why would I ever hate you, Peach?" Plub said quietly.
Reaching out to take her hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze.
“You’re amazing. You’ve always been the best brother anyone could ask
for – you’ve done everything for me. You’re the most talented
photographer I know and you’ve always been my hero.” His gaze was
steady, warm and honest, shining with unconditional love. Peach’s
chest tightened again, but this time from something lighter – relief,
gratitude. A smile appeared on his lips as he held her tightly, hugging
her like he never wanted to let go.
"Thank you," he said with a wide smile.

Plub hugged him just as tightly, smiling.

"You don't have to thank me, silly. I'm just so glad I can be your sister."
After a moment, she pulled back, her mischievous smile back in place
as her eyes narrowed playfully. "But, since we're all sentimental and
honest... It's time to confess. Who's got you so worked up? Do I know
him?"
Peach's eyes drifted away, her cheeks heating up again. "Yes. You...
"probably yes."
“I know him?!” Plub squealed, practically bouncing with excitement
“Who is it? Come on, tell me!”
Peach scooted to the far edge of the bed, desperate to escape his
relentless enthusiasm. When she looked ready to climb onto the bed
behind him, he quickly raised his hands in surrender.
"I'll tell you when I'm sure, okay?" He playfully ruf led her hair and
gently pushed her away.
Plub pouted, but reluctantly backed away.
“Fine… I’ll wait,” she grumbled, clearly displeased but willing to give
him space. Then, her expression changed to something more serious,
her voice irm and sincere. “But just tell me. Is he nice to you?”
Peach paused, her mind racing through each memory – the brief,
charged encounters, the tension that had once gripped him so tightly
and the strange, unexpected comfort that had slowly taken its place.

After that situation happened, she felt tension in her head. She
remembered the apology, the genuine way he offered it, even when her
heart was still pounding from nerves. He had smiled despite
everything.
pretending that everything was okay, like he always did.
But then… that moment when the hospital room door opened and the
young mobster walked in. For the irst time, Peach felt his guard drop –
really drop. In that instant, “everything will be okay” no longer seemed
like an empty assurance. And the way he looked at him – steady,
attentive, as if Peach were someone worth caring for…
“…Yeah,” Peach admitted softly, a soft smile curving her lip, her eyes
crinkling with warmth.
“He’s really good to me. A little weird sometimes, but… he’s been
nothing but kind.”
Plub smiled slightly and inally eased his questioning. "I don't know
who he is, but if he can make you smile like that, I don't care."
Peach let out a long, shaky sigh and released a heavy weight from her
chest. "I've never liked a boy before," she admitted quietly.
"But... being with him feels... right. For the irst time, I feel like
everything is going to be okay... like I can inally breathe."
"So, isn't that a good thing?" Plub tilted her head, frowning
thoughtfully. "Maybe it's just because you've never felt this way before.
But if he's a good guy, if being with him makes everything feel good,
and if he can make you smile like that, I think it's worth the risk."
Peach pressed her lips together, uncertainty still clouding her face.
Plub walked over and wrapped his arms around her in a relaxed
manner, resting his chin on her shoulder.
"Why don't you give it a chance?" she suggested softly. "If it really is as
good as you think, and if what you feel turns into something more.
That's

It’s a beautiful thing. But even if it doesn’t work, at least you’ll know
you tried. It might hurt for a while, but it’s better than wondering ‘what
if… not? ’” She paused, straightening up with new determination. “And
don’t worry – if he ever treats you badly or makes you cry, I’ll take care
of him.”
Peach blinked, momentarily stunned, before a spark of amusement lit
up her eyes. “You’re going to take care of him? How about you stop
running from the cockroaches irst, and maybe he’ll believe you?”
Plub puffed her cheeks in mock indignation, then burst into laughter,
with her brother joining in. Their shared laughter illed the room,
brushing away any remaining tension. The conversation soon drifted
to lighter topics, things of little importance. But, even as they spoke,
the uncertainty in Peach’s heart slowly settled, her tangled emotions
beginning to take clearer shape.
The only thing he could hope for now was that this time, he wouldn't
end up regretting it.

.......... .

More iles here

ATTENTION CALL #31

After chatting a bit more, a knock sounded at the door. Both brothers
turned to look just as a tall igure entered. The man had broad
shoulders, with slanted, monolithic eyes framed by familiar
rectangular glasses. He was carrying a huge basket of
"get well soon" on one hand.
"Mr. Touch? How did you get here?" Peach greeted him with a slight
smile.
"I came away worried," Touch joked lightly, moving closer.
"Thank you for coming, Mr. Touch. You really didn't have to go to the
trouble."
Peach, still too weak to sit up, could only offer a polite smile. The
company president quickly walked over and shook his head irmly.
“It’s no problem. Honestly, I should have come earlier. You got hurt at
work, that’s my responsibility.” His expression softened with
genuine regret as he placed the large basket on the nightstand.
“Consider this as a small token of my appreciation. And Don't worry,
I will cover all your medical expenses."
“No need. I’m pretty sure someone else will take care of the bill
already.” Peach’s tone was casual, though his thoughts drifted to the
mysterious mob boss who had whisked him away to this VIP suite in
the hospital. If that man hadn’t already igured everything out, Peach
igured he would have to get the money out of Tawan somehow.
Judging from Mr. Thee's previous behavior, Peach doubted he would
need to resort to any coercion.

"Okay, okay. Anyway, let me at least treat you to a meal sometime,"

Touch offered with a warm smile, then paused as if something had
crossed his mind. "Speaking of work. The image iles, do you still have
them?"
Peach nodded apologetically. "Yes, I do... Sorry, but I don't think I have
time to edit or retouch the images. I may need to ask for an extension."
He always took his work seriously, ensuring that each project was
delivered on time and often with images nearly polished and ready to
go.
"Okay. Just send me the iles and I'll have the art team inish them,"
Touch offered helpfully.
“I can’t do that.” Peach objected, frowning. “I agreed to handle the art
myself when I took the job.” He was very particular about
responsibility – he would never take advantage of others or let anyone
take advantage of him.
"But I think..."
"Enough is enough!"
Plub, who had been quietly listening in on them, inally stepped in and
raised his hand to stop the conversation. His expression was calm but
his slight frown revealed his growing mimicry.
He turned to his brother and scolded him irmly.
"Peach, you need to rest. You promised me – no work, period."
After a pause, he turned his attention back to his guest. His face
remained serious, though a slight professional smile curved his lips.
"Good afternoon. I'm Panatchakorm, Peach's younger sister. I work at
304

"I'm in the art department at Arseny Company, but I also help out with
their freelance projects. I'll handle the remaining image edits on their
behalf. Would that be acceptable?" Touch blinked, momentarily taken
aback by his steady, imposing gaze.
She quickly composed herself, replacing her surprise with a warm
smile that made his eyes crinkle pleasantly.
“That would be wonderful. Thank you, Panatchakorm.” He extended his
hand in friendly invitation. “I am Touch. It is a pleasure working
together. May I call you Plub? Since we will be working closely together,
it seems appropriate that we do so by our irst names.”
Plub glanced brie ly at the large hand before reaching out to shake it,
his lips curved into a slight smile that didn't reach his sharp, piercing
eyes.
"Likewise," she replied curtly, withdrawing her hand just as quickly.
Then, with a polite but irm gesture toward the door, she added:
"Let me show you the way out. This way, please."
Are they kicking you out already?
Peach could only scream those words internally, not daring to voice
them. Her jester's sweet yet dangerously sharp smile was too
intimidating. The last time she saw that look was years ago, when her
boyfriend cheated on Plub's best friend. She had smiled like that, right
before she punched the guy so hard that he lost a tooth.
She was probably furious now that Touch had brought up work while
she was trying so hard to get Peach to rest. She had even convinced
him to stay another night at the hospital for peace of mind.

Fortunately, the young CEO didn't seem offended. If anything, he

seemed downright entertained, his expression bordering on delight.
He simply nodded graciously and said his polite goodbyes before
walking towards the door at a leisurely pace, as if expecting Plub to
follow and properly escort him out.
In the end, he had to tell Peach that he would go home irst to work on
the pictures. Only then did Touch inally leave, disappearing with her
out the door.
Watching them leave, Peach frowned slightly. A strange premonition
came over him, as if he was about to lose his sister to something or
someone. Still, when it came to love, he preferred to let her make her
own decisions and support her from the sidelines.
Moreover, he could barely manage his own life.
After a while, just as her worried thoughts were spiraling higher, Plub
called, almost as if sensing her brother's concern. She ranted furiously
about how inconsiderate Touch was to talk about work while Peach
was stuck in a hospital, her annoyance spilling over the phone.
He had to calm her down with soothing words for quite some time.
[ I'm heading to your house to grab the image iles. I've already taken
leave from work, so I'll take care of everything. Just rest, understand? ]
Previously, Plub had often helped him with image editing before
delivering the inal product to clients, especially when he had taken on
too many projects and had become overwhelmed. Although he
sometimes got angry, his skills were top-notch and trustworthy.

"I understand. Thanks," Peach replied without arguing, deciding not to

worry her sister any more than necessary. "You don't need to come
babysit me tonight. Just inish those pictures and get some sleep,
okay?"
[ I understand. You will be leaving the hospital tomorrow afternoon,
right? I will pick you up.]
so .]
"Okay. Do you want to get something to eat? I'll treat you, consider it
payment for your help."
[ No, I'll treat you to a meal to celebrate you getting out of the hospital! ]
he complained before quickly changing into an excited tone when the
food appeared.
[ Let's eat shabu, Peach. You haven't had it in years! ]
"Is that what you want to eat or are you just using me as an excuse?"
Peach joked with a giggle. "Okay, I'll buy you a drink, but no alcohol."
Plub groaned through the phone, saying that she wasn't going to make
things dif icult for him while he was still recovering. Peach, not really
believing him, simply laughed. He wasn't sick enough to need his sister
to take care of him like that.
After chatting a bit more and making sure that Plub had returned
safely to his room, he ended the call. Glancing at the clock, he realized
that it was already quite late and he was starting to feel tired – the
dizziness that had been getting better was returning, probably
because he hadn’t gotten enough sleep. He decided to rest and irst he
needed to charge his phone.
He turned to the side of the bed, closed his eyes and tried to meditate
for a moment, gathering energy despite feeling lazy. After a while, he
slowly propped himself up on his elbow. The slight dizziness came
quickly, but it wasn't as intense as days before. He was simply
exhausted from lying around all day.

Peach stretched her arm out as far as she could, her ingers brushing
the charging cable.
However, before she could remove it, the door to her hospital room
opened.
He turned to look, still reaching for the cord, and the person who
walked through the door froze, eyes wide in shock. Before Peach could
react, they ran over to him, effortlessly picking him up and placing him
back onto the bed in one smooth motion.
This is where your effort ends.
Peach lay there, staring into space, feeling a little defeated. She had
managed to overcome her laziness to the point of almost reaching the
cable, but before she knew it, she was back to square one.
.
“What do you think you’re doing?” The young ma ia man scolded him
harshly, his face illed with worry. “What if you fall and break a bone?
Why didn’t you call someone? You could have just pressed the nurse
button.”
“Who would you call, Mr. Thee? I’m alone here.” Peach replied lazily, her
voice slurred with exhaustion. “Besides, I was just trying to charge my
phone. Why would I need to call a nurse for that?”
"Call the bodyguards outside the room if you need help," Thee
snapped, though Peach could hear something odd in her tone, a hint of
something that made her frown.
"Wait a second... You have bodyguards outside my room."
"Of course. I have them watching you. I just didn't let them in because I
didn't want to bother you," Thee replied matter-of-factly, with

expression as if he were asking, "What? You think I'd leave you here
alone?"
"I'm just a photographer, why would I need bodyguards? Are you
planning on keeping me locked up or something?" Peach grumbled, not
entirely seriously.
Surprisingly, he didn't feel afraid. In fact, there was a strange comfort
in the person standing in front of him.
The mob boss shook his head, his expression unusually serious, a
stark contrast to the casual intelligence surrounding him.
"I'm not going to do anything you don't like," he said irmly, grabbing
Peach's phone and plugging it into the charger beside her body. "Those
guys are only here temporarily – to make sure nothing happens.
What if someone tries to sneak in and attack you while
you're sick? And "then what?"
Peach, who had been about to retort, stopped mid-thought. Instead,
she let out a long sigh, a faint smile tugging at the corner of her lips as
if she found the whole thing amusing.
“Come on, Mr. Thee, be reasonable. Who would even bother trying to
hurt me?” Peach replied, exasperation mixed with a hint of sarcasm.
“What are they going to do? Slip poison? Turn off the fan to claim some
imaginary inheritance?”
"Who knows? A lawsuit against the Veeraarpakorn family could be
worth a fortune." Thee said in a completely serious tone. Peach
couldn't help herself: she really laughed this time.
Seeing that laughter, the ma ia boss's lips curved into a faint smile, his
normally sharp eyes softening slightly. He adjusted the blanket

around Peach, carefully tucking it in at the edges as if she were

wrapping something precious.
"Get some rest. The faster you recover, the better. I'll stay and take care
of you tonight."
"Wait... What?"
Peach, who had been on the verge of sleep, sat up straight, her eyes
wide in surprise. Did she hear that right? Was the fearsome Russian
mobster seriously planning to stay and babysit her room tonight?
She couldn't even process the thought properly! She had just started
thinking about opening up to him a little and now they were going
straight to this?
“Why can’t I stay and take care of you?” Thee snapped, her tone sharp
again as her gaze hardened. “Do you already have someone else lined
up to stay with you tonight? Don’t get any weird ideas. I’m the one
paying for this room. If anyone’s sleeping here, it’s me!”
Where do you want this script to come from? Some over-the-top soap
opera?
Peach blinked blankly at Thee, processing the quick words that left her
no chance to argue. Still, since the tone wasn't really angry—just mildly
annoyed and exasperated—she didn't bother taking it seriously.
Or maybe he was already getting used to it.
"I'm not going to see anyone, Mr. Thee. I just thought you might feel
uncomfortable sleeping here. I didn't say you couldn't stay."

He looked at the satis ied expression on Thee's face with a slightly

amused smile. A part of him was tempted to ask if sleeping with Mr.
Thee didn't count as "going wild," but he wisely kept the comment to
himself. No point poking the bear unnecessarily.
Thee nodded slightly, pleased as his earlier frustration faded away. His
rough yet warm hand turned red on Peach's forehead, a makeshift way
to check her temperature, before he lightly caressed the back of
Peach's hand.
"Okay. Now rest up. Get as much sleep as you can. Tomorrow, I'll come
get you to discharge you, and then I'll take you to a nice place to cheer
you up." Peach stopped in mid-yawn, suddenly wide awake. Her streak
of bad luck clearly wasn't over. The mob boss's plans for tomorrow
directly clashed with a commitment she'd already made with Plub.
"Uh... Mr. "Thee, I'm really sorry, but I can't go with you tomorrow,"
Peach said hesitantly, her voice tinged with guilt. "Plub already has
plans to pick me up, and we're going to eat shabu together."
Peach instinctively threw her neck back, preparing for the inevitable
eruption of "grumpy, possessive Thee," a personality she had
encountered far too many times.
But instead, Thee only paused for a moment and looked down brie ly.
When she inally spoke, her tone was calm, devoid of the irritation
Peach had anticipated.
"Are you two going alone?"
"Yeah, it's been a while since I last hung out with Plub, so he invited
me."

“Alright, I’ll go too. I’ll treat you,” Thee said, nodding to himself as if that
settled everything. Without waiting for a reply, he turned to order
Peach to get some sleep, effectively ending the conversation. Grabbing
his iPad, Thee crossed the room to turn off the main lights, leaving
only the small lamp on the familiars’ chest behind the partition. He
then settled in, clearly preparing to work as he kept an eye on Peach
throughout the night.
Wait a minute! When did he agree to let Thee accompany him?

ATTENTION CALL #32

Thee sat back, lipping through documents on her iPad. After signing
the last one of the day, she put down her pen and stretched her arms,
easing the stiffness from sitting for too long. The couch she was on
was top-notch, soft and comfortable, but hours of effort and work still
left her muscles tense.
He grabbed the now cold cup of tea nearby and took a long sip, his gaze
darting to the clock. It was late. By now, he should have been attending
a dinner party or meeting a business associate for lunch. Instead, he
had cleared his entire schedule the moment he heard someone was in
the hospital – even though the situation wasn’t serious enough to
cause any real concern.
Rising from the couch, he strode past the room divider and into the
patient area. Peach was fast asleep in the hospital bed, wrapped snugly
in a white blanket that nearly swallowed his slender igure. His slender
arm, its delicate bones barely visible, rested on his stomach. Though
his complexion was still pale and faint shadows lingered under his
eyes, he looked peaceful.
Thee approached the bed, hesitating brie ly before gently running the
back of her hand across Peach’s soft cheek. She held her breath, careful
not to wake him. Her hand lingered, lightly running over the corner of
Peach’s eye, gently brushing the faint dark circles there.
He had never realized how exhausted Peach looked until now.
His ingers made their way to the space between Peach's eyebrows,
pressing and massaging gently in slow, soothing circles. Almost
immediately,

Peach's lips curved into a slight, sleepy smile, and her expression
relaxed into something much more serene.
Thee couldn't help but smile, his eyes ixed on Peach's face, unable to
look away. The more he looked, the more fascinated he became, caught
up in a feeling he couldn't quite explain. Even now, asleep and
unconscious, Peach seemed endearing, utterly captivating.
There was no way I would have let the bodyguards in here –
Not when they could see Peach sleeping so vulnerably. Not a chance in
hell!
He reluctantly pulled his hand away when he felt his phone vibrate in
his pocket. He had set it to silent so as not to disturb the patient. As
soon as the buzz registered, he took a step back, silently walking to the
door of the room before exiting with practiced stealth.
“What is it?” The moment the door closed behind him, the warmth in
his expression faded like a dull light. His temporary personal
bodyguard (who also doubled as his secretary while Mok was on leave)
stood by, accustomed to this sharp, no-nonsense tone. With a brief nod
of acknowledgement, he began his report.
"The issue with that celebrity has now been resolved, sir. His legal
team has requested a settlement meeting before proceeding with the
lawsuit.
They offered to terminate the contract on their part and pay
compensation as agreed, including physical and emotional damages.
They want to negotiate the inal amount during the meeting."
"Our legal team will take care of it. I want every last penny they owe, no
strings attached." His voice was cold and authoritative, leaving no
room for negotiation.

“Understood.” The acting secretary replied irmly, though he inwardly

shuddered. The coldness in Thee’s tone seemed to seep into the air,
making him silently plead for Mok’s quick return.
If he continued in this role, he might freeze to death from the intensity.
"Anything else?" he snapped, growing more irritable by the second.
This was eating into the time he could spend inside the room, even if
Peach was asleep and didn't need anything. "The new model that the
team contacted has con irmed its availability. "He's coming tomorrow
for a casting session. Will you be there?"
"No. Hire whoever you think is best. Let the team handle it." His
response was curt and irritation began to boil. "What else?"
"Spit it out"
Swallowing hard, the reluctant deputy secretary braced himself,
determined to publish the inal report as quickly as possible. All he
wanted now was to return to his usual bodyguard duties, preferably
somewhere far from Thee's icy command.
"The postponed meetings of yesterday and today have been
rescheduled as per Mr. Mok's instructions," the temporary secretary
reported. "However, Mr. Aran requested an urgent appointment.
Should I con irm it, Mr. Thee?"
Under normal circumstances, this wouldn’t have been something
worthy of Thee’s attention. A mere model shouldn’t have the audacity
to suddenly request a personal meeting. But, given Thee’s prior
interest in the strikingly beautiful model, and the fact that the whole
mess involved the disgraced celebrity, his bodyguard-turned-secretary
decided it was safer not to decline the request without consulting him
irst.
Thee's eyes narrowed sharply, ready to attack, but something made
him stop.
The truth is that part of the reason Peach was injured was because of
the model's overly familiar attitude towards her photographer and her
inability to control the situation. Perhaps it was time to address that
issue head on, making sure everything remained in order in the future.
This was the perfect opportunity to get two annoying people out of
Peach's orbit for good.
With a small, satis ied nod, Thee dismissed any hint of jealousy from
her mind. Her decision was purely logical...
Or so he told himself. "Make the appointment," he ordered curtly.
Turning around, he walked back into the hospital room. "Unless it's
something urgent, don't call me again," he instructed irmly before
closing the door behind him. His only regret was that the room didn't
have a lock.
Peach was still fast asleep, his soft breathing occasionally interrupted
by soft, almost endearing snores.
You checked the blanket, making sure it was soft and warm, then sat
down in the chair next to the bed.
The hospital's VIP suite had a small single bed intended for family
members, located behind a room divider. While it wasn't as luxurious
as the king-sized bed in Thee's penthouse downtown, it was far more
comfortable than sitting in a chair all night. But from that far corner,
the patient's bed would be out of sight... and that wasn't acceptable.
Without a second thought, Thee decided that she would rather stay
there, keeping watch.
Everyone in Thee's family was strong and healthy, with no history of
hospital stays. As for the others, she never cared enough to pay
attention to them.
TRANSLATION: Fx|Sx

But when it came to Peach, he found himself willing to sit there all
night, realizing that he would be the irst face Peach saw when she
woke up. If anything bad happened, you'd be ready to step in without a
second thought.
She leaned closer and gently took Peach's pale, cold hand in hers. The
room was cold and Peach's skin felt icy. Thee rubbed her hand slowly,
letting the warmth seep through her touch.
The moment he heard that Peach had been rushed to the hospital, his
heart sank in a way he had never experienced before. Although Mok
quickly assured him that it was nothing serious, his chest still felt ine,
weighed down with fear. His hands had gone numb from shock,
tormented by the thought of losing Peach.
Lowering his head, Thee placed a soft kiss on Peach's delicate hand
before resting his forehead against it. The warmth of Peach's palm
against his face calmed the storm inside him.
Never again. Feeling like that, even once, was too much.
………………..
Peach stirred, opening her eyes slowly. Her head hurt, making her
vision blurry and unfocused. Her mind was foggy, unable to put the
pieces together right away. She blinked as she looked up at the
spotless white ceiling, trying to get her bearings.
It took him a moment to remember that he was in a hospital bed. He
must have fallen asleep early the night before and stayed up until
morning.
Maybe that was why he felt so dazed.
He made an attempt to move to stretch his stiff muscles, but
something heavy and warm pressed against his wrist. As he turned his
head slowly,

He saw a familiar head of dark hair with soft greyish-brown highlights

catching the light, a sight both familiar and oddly comforting.
Peach raised his free hand and gently ran his ingers through the soft
dark hair, trying to igure out where he had seen him before. Just then,
the person shifted and slowly raised their head, smoky grey eyes
locking onto him and the initial calm in them turning into quiet alarm.
Wait… the Russian mob boss had actually been sitting by his bedside
all night? And he was just playing with the guy’s hair like it was
nothing?
Peach froze, rigid like a robot with a dead battery. Her hand jerked
back, as if she had touched something hot. She held her breath,
preparing for some kind of explosion.
But instead of an outburst, Thee greeted him with a faint, surprisingly
warm smile. She even seemed… in a good mood?
"How do you feel? Better now?"
"Yeah... I feel better." Peach stuttered a little, still nervous, "Did you...
"You stayed here all night? You must be in pain."
"Just a little." Thee's tone was calm, almost casual, though her smoky
eyes gleamed with something that seemed like satisfaction – a rare
and surprising sight.
Peach couldn't believe she could read the meaning behind Thee's
otherwise illegible expression.

Peach, who had crossed paths with the mob boss far too many times,
had apparently developed a talent for deciphering his subtle changes.
Still, the current reaction was unexpected. At irst, Peach thought that
Thee hadn’t noticed her little slip-up – the way she’d been playing with
her hair like it was no big deal. But when Thee’s smoky grey eyes
landed on her still-raised hand, it was clear that Thee knew.
And not only did he not seem upset, he also seemed to be in a good
mood.
The young photographer was completely taken aback. He stood frozen
as Thee approached. A large, warm hand brushed his sock and then his
forehead, checking his temperature with an almost startling
gentleness. Satis ied that Peach was okay, Thee leaned forward and
prepared to help Peach sit up. His movements were careful, deliberate
– but undeniably awkward, as if he weren’t used to this kind of
closeness.
Peach pressed his lips together, feeling the heat rush to his cheeks
despite his best efforts to maintain his composure. Gently Thee
pushed him back, putting some distance between them so they could
breathe.
With a deep breath, he managed to sit up. Fortunately, the dizziness
disappeared and only the lingering fatigue from sleeping too much
remained, although overall he felt much more refreshed.
"How are you feeling? Are you still dizzy?" Thee's deep voice asked, her
cold hand, chilled by the air conditioning, lightly brushing Peach's head
with surprising care. "Tell me if you feel bad."
"I'm ine now. Really." Peach offered a small smile.
Satis ied, Thee nodded, bending down to pick up a pair of slippers and
carefully placing them at Peach's feet. Before Peach could react, Thee
moved to put them on. Startled, Peach jerked her leg back so fast that
she nearly fell off the edge of the bed.
"W... What are you doing?" Peach asked, but Thee looked up.
blank expression as if he didn't really see what the problem was.
"The loor is cold. You were going to the bathroom, right? Put this on
irst."
"I can do it myself, thanks! Just... leave them there."
Peach practically begged, her heart pounding in her chest. Thee
frowned slightly, muttering something like, “It doesn’t look like it does
on TV.” Peach’s jaw dropped. Thai dramas!?
Which one had he seen? Did he really think mob bosses doing this stuff
wasn't weird or downright creepy?
Morti ied beyond reason, Peach looked down, avoiding Thee’s eyes as
he slipped his feet into the waiting slippers. He lightly pushed Thee’s
shoulder, urging him to return to create some much-needed personal
space.
He had never been treated like this in his life. It was overwhelming.
Strange. The tender gestures felt too intimate, leaving him blushing
with embarrassment and an awkwardness he couldn't help.
It was too much that it scared him.
"I'm going to go freshen up!" she blurted out, the words falling over
themselves in her haste to escape. Without waiting for a reply, she ran
into the bathroom, "running away" from the disconcerting scene as if
her life depended on it.
Peach wasn't quite sure what expression Thee had on her face when
she left earlier. She was worried that she might have accidentally
offended him. Seeing his clothes

carefully prepared in the bathroom only made him feel more guilty.
After freshening up and composing himself, he cautiously exited the
bathroom.
The room was empty. You were nowhere to be found. Peach looked
around, but didn't think much of it. She quietly walked over to the side
of the bed where his few belongings were placed. Since he had been
brought to the hospital unexpectedly, his sister Plub had to bring him a
change of clothes. Otherwise, he wouldn't have had anything to wear at
home.
Just as she inished closing her small backpack, the door opened.
Thee walked in, her face as impassive as ever. But when their gazes
met – Peach noticed the slightest of changes in Thee’s usually sharp
gaze, as if there was the slightest hint of a smile lurking there. Subtle,
but unmistakable.
Mr. Thee was not someone who smiled often. Seeing even the slightest
trace of warmth on his face was like seeing a shooting star, rare and
leeting.
Peach smiled back, pretending that the earlier awkwardness never
happened. “Shall we go back now?” she asked casually.
The young ma ia man nodded slightly, walking over to gently press
Peach onto the bed and told her to wait while he handled the accounts.
Before leaving, he handed Peach a bag containing freshly fried dough
sticks and a warm soy milk drink.
"Have a snack while you wait. I've never tried them before, but Mok
said most people like them."
Peach's stomach growled at the sight of the crunchy dough sticks. Just
as she was about to take a bite, she paused and reconsidered.
Lifting the bag, he handed it back to her.

"Why don't you try one irst? They're really good! They go great with
black coffee, milk, or even soy milk. Dip them in condensed milk if you
want something sweeter!"
Thee was silent for a moment, staring at the fried delicacies with mild
curiosity. After a brief pause, she leaned over and took a bite of the
dough stick Peach was still holding in her hand. The crispy outer layer
gave a satisfying crunch, contrasting with the soft, airy interior. "Pretty
good."
Peach froze, mouth agape, staring at the half of the dough bun she was
still holding. Before she could think too much about it, she shoved the
remaining piece into Thee’s mouth, turned around, and ran to the
hospital’s water station. Grabbing the plastic cup nearby, she set about
pouring soy milk into it, hoping the cold drink would calm her racing
heart. Thee stepped back, laughing softly, then walked over to the
couch and settled in with a relaxed demeanor.
Meanwhile, Peach stood by the counter, her forehead resting lightly
against the cabinet, her cheeks burning with heat.
What the hell was that!? He wanted to scream, but he couldn’t muster
the courage. Instead, he drank his soy milk in one gulp, begging himself
to get better.
It's just Mr. Ma ia being weird! Don't think about it too much!
It didn't take long for the hospital staff to take care of the bill.
Apparently, they had brought a card machine into the room for
convenience, Peach brie ly catching a glimpse of a deck of black credit
cards. Peach blurted out asking if it was a famous Black Card. Without
missing a beat, Thee casually handed it over to her to inspect and hand
over as a backup card in case the other one maxed out. Peach frowned,
shaking her head in disbelief, then grabbed her bag and walked
towards the exit.

As they reached the main entrance of the hospital, Peach stopped dead
in her tracks, staring wide-eyed at a luxury sports car parked outside.
Even though she didn’t like cars, she could sell it for a price that
probably surpassed her lifetime earnings. She walked over to it like it
was no big deal, opening the passenger door before gesturing for
Peach to get in.
"Where are you meeting your sister for shabu?"
Peach blinked, completely speechless. She had assumed Thee's offer to
join them was just a joke. But now, sitting in the car with the engine
roaring, it was clear that Thee wasn't joking.
When they inally arrived at the famous shabu restaurant, Thee got out
of the car and walked alongside Peach, their shoulders almost
brushing as they walked. He stayed close, not giving an inch of space,
until they arrived right in front of the restaurant. Peach glanced
surreptitiously at Thee, half expecting him to turn around and leave,
but the man showed no signs of moving away.
How was I going to explain this to Plub?
 ATTENTION CALL #33
Plub sat in front of the steaming pot of shabu, her arms crossed and
her lips pursed. In front of her were two men. The smaller one sitting
further inside was her beloved older brother, but the larger man on the
outside was someone she never imagined she would see in a cheap
shabu restaurant in her life.
"Would you mind explaining to me what's going on here, Peach?" Plub
asked, his tone sharp as he stubbornly refused to lift his chopsticks.
Peach, as usual, didn't bother to answer. Instead, she dipped a slice of
pork into the bubbling broth, turned it a few times, and then carefully
placed it on her plate.
"Trying to shut me up with food, huh?" he snapped, eyes narrowing,
though he still popped the pork into his mouth without hesitation.
"Don't think one slice will be enough!"
Peach chuckled, grabbing more meat and vegetables to cook for her,
her efforts to appease evident. Meanwhile, the imposing igure beside
her, none other than Thee, took notice and casually ordered another
round of trays of food, as if the current mountain of dishes wasn’t
enough.
As they entered the restaurant, Mr. Thee almost insisted on buying the
entire place. Peach spent a good ive minutes trying to explain to him
the penalty fee for ordering too much and leaving food uneaten. Thee,
unfazed, just raised an eyebrow as he found it dif icult to understand
how much all of that cost.
Peach barely resisted the urge to tear her hair out in frustration - it
wasn't about the money, it was about the principle! The sacred code of
buffet gourmets: If you order it, you inish it!

Of course, he just pulled at his own hair out of exasperation. There was
no way he dared touch Thee's.
Plub, still eating, shot her a glare, clearly unimpressed. Peach, caught
between guilt and the mounting pressure of his gaze, inally relented
and began to explain. Her voice was carefully neutral, as if trying to
make the situation sound less awkward than it actually was.
"Mr. Thee covered all my hospital bills when I was admitted," he said,
pausing for a breath. "So I thought I'd treat him to a meal as a thank
you."
Peach almost bit her tongue. She almost never lied to her little sister.
Sure, half of what he said was technically true, but the guilt was already
starting to get to him. What was he supposed to say? That the mob
boss sitting across from them had pouted and insisted on tagging
along? Who in their right mind would believe that?!
“My, my! Mr. Thee must have such a kind heart!” Plub showed a
dazzling smile that caused his eyes to close slightly.
To his older brother, however, that overly sweet smile was more
terrifying than his usual glare, by far. “But a cheap place like this
doesn’t seem to suit your tastes. Perhaps we should leave a proper
thank you dinner for another time, hmm?”
Thee raised an eyebrow slightly, clearly noticing her unsubtle attempt
to kick him out, but he didn't seem to care.
Instead, the tall man leaned back in his seat with a relaxed attitude,
sipping the restaurant's cheap green tea as if he didn't have a care in
the world. "It's alright. These things are measured by the heart, not by
price."

"But you sure are swamped with work, Mr. CEO. How come Peach is
giving you a last-minute invitation?" Plub insisted, refusing to budge.
"In any case, I think it would be best if you went back now. I don't want
to waste your valuable time."
"It's not a loss. If it's your brother, I'll always ind time."
That calm reply made Peach choke on her tea, coughing so hard that
the entire table turned to look at him. Plub, on the other hand, stood
frozen in place, mouth agape and eyes wide, staring at the president,
who leaned down gently to pat Peach on the back, as if it were the most
natural thing in the world.
Plub quickly grabbed a napkin and passed it to Peach before leaning in
close, lowering his voice to a high-pitched whisper. "Peach... is this...
what I think it is?!"
Peach pressed her ingers against her temples. All her efforts from just
ten minutes ago had gone to waste.
With a resigned sigh, she nodded slightly, barely audible, but enough to
make Plub explode with excitement. She covered her mouth with her
hands, her eyes shining with a silent cry of excitement. Her shoulders
shook as she practically vibrated in place, her face illed with
contagious happiness. Once she got herself under control, Plub cleared
his throat, still red-faced, but his expression turned serious.
He leaned forward and, in the most serious tone imaginable, asked.
"CEO... are you trying to woo my brother?"
Peach's jaw dropped, and she could almost feel the heat invading her
face, spreading so fast it felt like her ears stopped working. She
completely forgot to stop Plub, forgot that her little sister was bold,
impulsive, and the polar opposite of her reserved nature.
But I didn't expect her to be SO impulsive!

"Don't call me 'CEO', just 'Mr. Thee' is ine," the mob boss replied,
completely unfazed by the directness of the question. He looked
absolutely relaxed, more so than Peach had ever seen him.
"If things go well, maybe one day you'll call me Brother Thee."
Peach froze in the middle of her thought, any excuse she had been
about to give immediately erased from her mind. It was as if someone
had thrown a grenade directly at her, leaving her with only a ringing in
her ears and a desperate need to disappear.
Plub, on the other hand, lowered her head and clenched her ist,
repeatedly pounding the seat as if she was illed with pure emotion.
After a moment, she took a deep, audible breath, and raised her head
again, her expression now perfectly composed, as if nothing had
happened.
Peach, however, couldn't take it anymore. She turned her head away,
raising a hand to partially cover her face in a futile attempt to hide the
growing embarrassment. She was so close to simply slamming her
head against the wall to end this nightmare.
In a desperate attempt to keep himself busy, Peach focused intently on
dipping meat and vegetables into the shabu broth, as if his life
depended on it. With determined hands, he piled food onto plates for
the other two, hoping that pushing them to eat would somehow
distract them from their ridiculous staring contest. It took him a while
to compose himself, but once he felt like his face had returned to its
normal color, Peach inally dared to clear his throat and redirect the
conversation to another topic.
"So... how's work going?" he asked, jumping to the question that had
been plaguing him the most. After all, he had been off the grid for three
full days, and both his boss and younger sister were

They had tried hard to keep him in the dark about any new
developments.
Probably because they were afraid you would get out of bed, grab your
laptop and start working, or worse, grab your camera and walk straight
out the door.
"The winter collection has been put on hold. Luckily, I hadn't started
designing the magazine yet. Right now we're in the middle of
interviewing a new model for the campaign," Plub replied between
bites of pork and cheese, savoring every morsel.
Peach pressed his lips together tightly, feeling guilt swell in his chest.
While he knew, logically, that it wasn't entirely his fault, the aftereffects
of the situation had clearly affected the others, and that was enough to
leave him feeling uneasy.
“I’m sorry. I’ve caused trouble for everyone,” he said with a faint,
apologetic smile, his eyes dulling with regret. Thee frowned deeply,
looking as if he wanted to intervene, but Plub shook his head irmly, his
expression resolute.
"There's no need to apologize. This wasn't your fault, Peach," Plub said,
shrugging as he lashed her a bright smile.
"Although I know you'll still feel guilty anyway. But seriously, I'll say it
again: this is not up to you. I'm happy to redo all the work, and
honestly, every member of the crews who knows what happened
agreed that we should replace the model. That guy was a total pain.
Even the makeup artist was complaining about him!"
Peach blinked in confusion, trying to make sense of what he was
saying. As far as she could remember, Tawan wasn't particularly
terrible. Sure, he was quieter and not the most sociable person on set,
but he had never been bad enough to warrant that.
kind of reaction. He wasn't the type of person to cause drama and have
people talk about him behind his back, at least not from what Peach
had seen.
“It’s not so much about him as a person,” Plub said, lowering her voice
to the gossipy tone of a coworker ready to spill the tea. “But when it
comes to anything involving Aran, he turns into the most annoying guy
on the planet. If the makeup is too bold, he complains. If the out its are
too revealing, he complains. It’s always something! And it’s all things
that were written into his contract from the beginning—if he didn’t
like it, why did he sign it?”
Peach nodded in understanding. She had had irsthand experience
with Tawan’s antics on set whenever Aran was involved.
In those days, Tawan would hover over him relentlessly, demanding to
see the photos he had taken even before the session was over. It was
maddening, to say the least.
“So we won’t have to deal with him throwing a tantrum later? I mean,
you still need to ilm them together for two more seasons,” she noted
with a small sigh, already dreading the potential drama. Plub, however,
just smiled, completely unfazed.
"He's the one who broke the contract. What's he going to complain
about?" she said, shrugging nonchalantly. "And if he tries to cause
trouble, I'll run straight to Mr. Thee!"
"Well done! If you come and tell me next time, I'll treat you to bubble
tea."
Thee continued to silently gather information, while diligently cooking
meat and vegetables and placing them on the plate for the smaller
igure beside him, not missing a single beat. He nodded with a serious
expression, clearly pleased to have one less hassle to deal with.

She was worried and glad to ease the burden for the person beside her.
Peach, on the other hand, had no idea what was going on in the mob
boss's head, nor did she care to know. She simply decided to tune out
the strange conversation, letting it pass as she turned to chat with her
sister instead. With a piece of meat already in her chopsticks, she said,
"It's partly my fault too. Next time I'll bring you some snacks to make
up for it."
Plub laughed, not at all shy, and quickly blurted out the name of the
snack shop he wanted her to get him something from before going
back to talking about work.
"By the way, I just heard that the new model has already passed the
interview.
"Buhnga just sent a message in the group chat a while ago. It seems
that he has already signed the contract, and this time slot is totally free
now. You can schedule the session whenever you want."
"Wait, why was it Buhnga who did the interview?" Peach raised an
eyebrow, trying to remember his name. Buhnga was Team Three's
assistant and had been in the running to take over as team leader
before Wivit ended up getting the position.
Technically, it should have been Wivit, the real leader of the team.
handling the interview, right?
“That guy is off the team,” Plub replied, his voice still full of irritation,
unable to even utter his name. “In fact, he left the company altogether.
There’s a rumor that he’s being sued for fraud, but I’m not sure if it’s
true.”
Both brothers instinctively turned to look at Thee, who responded
with a irm nod. Her lips curved into a slight smile, but her eyes held a
dark, brooding intensity.

Peach immediately turned around and decided to pretend that she

hadn't seen or heard anything. Plub, on the other hand, looked very
pleased and mentally awarded the mob boss extra points while
smiling to herself.
"Anyway, rumor has it that that new model is super cute.
“Ridiculously cute. Looks and personality, both top notch,” Plub added.
Her eyes lit up as she giggled, pretending to act shy. The over-the-top
act was so fake that it was almost endearingly annoying, enough to
make anyone want to reach out and pinch her cheeks.
Peach turned to Thee and told her that she was getting full and that it
was her turn to eat. Before she could say more, Plub, who had been
silent for a moment, suddenly spoke up.
“Oh, by the way,” he began, tilting his head slightly. “That model said
he’s a big fan of your work, Peach. He really wants to work with you
again.” Plub frowned. “I was going to ask where you shot someone so
handsome, but then I thought it’s useless you have too many clients to
keep track of anyway.”
Peach tried to recall a particularly striking model she had
photographed recently. A vague image appeared in her head – that of a
tall, broad-shouldered boy in his early twenties, with sharp, prominent
features.
But... no, it can't be.
………………..
Later, Peach came into the company with a large bag of snacks, just as
she had promised. Well, except for one small detail – she hadn't spent a
cent of her own money on them.

That morning, as usual, the young mobster had shown up in front of

her of ice. After they had shared breakfast together, he casually
informed her that he had work outside the of ice in the morning but
would be back in the afternoon. Before he left, he handed Peach a huge
bag of snacks.
The bag was from an upmarket bakery, the kind that charged an absurd
amount for even the simplest of treats. Peach froze, staring at the bag,
her face a mix of confusion and disbelief. Meanwhile, Mr. Thee was as
calm and collected as ever, seeming completely unaware of how
ridiculous this situation seemed.
"You said you'd bring them snacks, right?"
“I said I would buy the snacks myself,” Peach replied with an
exasperated sigh. “And this is way too expensive.”
"What does it matter? Snacks are snacks. Who bought them doesn't
change anything."
The mobster replied, looking almost offended that Peach seemed to
think he had done something wrong. Peach could only roll her eyes and
reluctantly accept the bag, deciding not to argue any further.
Saving money? He wasn't about to complain about that.
With bag in hand, Peach headed straight to the team’s shared meeting
room. The moment she set the witch down on the table, the team
swarmed in like kids in a candy store, their eyes practically shining
with excitement at the fancy snacks.
“Peach, you bought all of these for us?” Plub asked excitedly, her face
brightening up. She already knew that her brother had promised to
bring snacks to make up for things, but she hadn’t expected this level
of extravagance.
"It's my way of making peace."

“Wait, you actually bought this?” she asked again, narrowing her eyes
at him with a knowing, sly smile. Caught red-handed, Peach let out a
resigned sigh and nodded. Plub laughed, clearly amused, before diving
into the bag to grab her share without the slightest hesitation.
"Oh, by the way. Peach! This is the new model that will be working with
us," one of her teammates shouted, beckoning her over. Peach
recognized her as someone from the PR team; she was the one who
usually coordinated with the models for photo shoots.
Grabbing the two bags of snacks, Peach made her way over, her
curiosity piqued. She saw a tall igure talking to another member of
the team. From behind, the guy looked oddly familiar, though Peach
couldn't quite place him.
He handed a bag to the PR team member and turned to wait for the
new model to introduce himself. A few moments later, the boy turned
around, revealing a strikingly handsome face with puffy cheeks, giving
him a youthful, almost childlike charm. He didn't look to be more than
seventeen or eighteen years old.
Peach froze for a second, her smile faltering in surprise. The young
man, on the other hand, only smiled wider, his large, bright eyes
narrowing into cheerful crescents.
"Hello, Peach! Nice to see you here again."
"Kinn!"

ATTENTION CALL #34

It was another exasperating day for Thee, one where he felt like
throwing all his responsibilities into his younger brother's lap and
walking away. The only thing keeping him sane was the thought that he
might see Peach in the afternoon.
Sitting at the head of the long table, Thee drummed his ingers
rhythmically on the polished wood, a silent sign of his growing
irritation. All those around the table were high-ranking members of
the wily old foxes of the Arseny clan who had survived countless power
plays.
This was precisely the reason why his younger brother, Rome, gladly
stepped back and let him take the reins of the family while positioning
himself as the brains behind the scenes. Rome now ruled as the hidden
king of the Arseny family’s growing business empire.
Far removed from these exhausting power struggles.
Mok sat next to Thee, jotting down key points with great attention.
Roma, unsurprisingly, skipped the meeting altogether and lew off to
handle some personal business back home.
After four and a half grueling hours, the meeting inally ended. He
exchanged a few brief words with some of the more in luential elders
on pending business matters before turning and leaving with long,
determined strides.
I had hoped to have lunch with Peach, but the lengthy meeting,
combined with the city's notorious midday traf ic, made that wish
nearly impossible.
Frustration simmered just beneath his cold exterior.

From the driver's seat, Mok glanced at the rearview mirror and felt the
dark cloud of irritation radiating from his boss. Without a word, he
smoothly turned the wheel and pulled up in front of Studio A. No
instructions were needed.
She barely looked up from the iPad in her hands when the car pulled up
in front of the studio. Instantly, her mood brightened. Mok mentioned
that he would order lunch in advance, earning her a brief nod before
Thee walked out with a faint smile on her lips.
But the moment she stepped foot inside the studio, her brow furrowed
again. Her sharp, intense eyes locked onto the male model standing
con idently in the center of the set, lashing a dazzling smile.
What the hell are you doing here?
Irritation lared. He clenched his jaw, resisting the urge to march off
and drag the smirking man far, far away from his photographer. The
memory of Peach's anger the last time he interfered with work still
rankled. He didn't want that to happen again.
Still, that guy was infuriating.
Teeth clenched, muscles tense with pent-up frustration, he cast a
glance towards Peach, who was completely absorbed in his work, too
busy to notice anything else. Thee's annoyance simmered, illing his
chest until he felt almost suffocated.
With a low growl, he spun on his heel and stomped toward the familiar
leather couch, throwing himself down with a thud.
Crossing one leg over the other, Thee crossed her arms and narrowed
her eyes, silently pondering. Before long, Mok returned with the

lunch in hand. He arranged the food meticulously, unperturbed by the

stormy air radiating from his boss.
"That guy. What the hell is he doing here?" Thee growled, voice low and
dangerous, pointing towards the model.
“He went through the standard audition and interview process.” Mok
followed his line of vision, his expression as calm as ever. “Mr. Touch
recommended him and he also agreed to take a pay cut after the delay
in ilming. His modeling skills it the concept perfectly, so he got the
job.”
"But I don't want him here."
"You were the one who said that anyone would do, weren't you, Mr.
Thee?"
Mok replied coldly, with only a hint of subtle leasing.
"I remember him skipping the interview process and telling us to pick
whoever it the pro ile. He said it didn't matter who." Thee's face
instantly darkened. He felt an intense urge to strangle someone, but he
realized the only person who deserved that treatment was himself.
Without argument, he reluctantly ate lunch alone, his intended
companion too busy working to join him. Combined with the lingering
frustration of the morning, the air around him became practically
electri ied with irritation.
Later, Peach inally called a break, satis ied with the photos she had
taken. As she checked the images on her camera, she made her way
over to the refreshment table, only to notice Thee brooding in a corner
of the studio, her expression anything but welcoming. Without
hesitation, Peach walked over.

“Are you back, Mr. Thee?” he greeted warmly, lashing a bright smile
before eagerly grabbing his camera. He walked over, clearly excited to
show off the photographs he had taken.
She held her breath as the smaller man approached, the faint scent of
his soap teasing her senses. For a leeting moment, she wanted
nothing more than to close the distance, to soak in the warmth and
excitement radiating from those bright eyes.
Realizing her thoughts were wandering dangerously, Thee lowered her
gaze, forcing herself to regain control. Her lips twisted into a soft,
unusually tender smile as her earlier stormy mood dissipated almost
instantly.
"That guy... he's not bothering you, is he?" Thee asked, her voice low
and almost coaxing, her tone protective. "He seems... annoying. If he's
being too much or getting on your nerves, just say the word. I'll take
care of it."
“Not at all. It’s been great, actually.” Peach chuckled, clearly amused.
“Kinn is so talented and makes everything so much easier. We might
even be able to meet the original deadline for the winter collection.”
Thee was momentarily stunned into silence. He opened his mouth to
say something, but seeing how Peach's eyes were shining with pride
and joy at his work, the words got stuck in his throat. How could one
argue when Peach was so happy?
In the end, all Thee could do was watch Peach return to work, her gaze
lingering with a helpless, helpless longing she couldn't shake.

"Boss, you have meetings scheduled for this afternoon," Mok

announced, intervening only after Peach was out of earshot.
He acknowledged it with a brief nod, though his eyes remained
stubbornly on Peach's retreating igure, unwilling to look away.
She hated the idea of meeting someone, but after skipping two days of
work to take care of Peach, her calendar was a mess of back-to-back
appointments that she couldn't ignore.
"I have arranged the meetings in the President's of ice. There are some
documents that also need your signature. I have them ready."
Mok said once more. With a sigh of resignation, Thee stood up from
the couch and the irritation she had managed to suppress began to
rise again. Her mind raced with unwanted scenarios where the model
got too close to her photographer. Just the thought darkened her
expression.
He inally reached his room. After quickly handling a stack of
paperwork, he began to allow the scheduled visitors to join him. The
series of sly, self-serving conversations weighed heavily on his already
exhausted patience, layering frustration upon frustration with no way
out in sight.
Thee didn't mind brokering deals – he was more than skilled at it – but
he despised latterers, especially those who manipulated emotions for
their own gain.
Raised by a powerful Russian mob boss, Thee and his younger brother
were groomed from an early age to survive and eventually inherit the
family’s criminal empire. He had been thrown into a world where
masks were the norm and trust was a far more fragile currency than
gold.

She had once allowed herself to trust, until a supposed friend used
their bond to gain favors and advantage. Since then, she had built
unbreakable walls around her heart, reserving true closeness only for
her family.
The mob boss slowly rubbed his temples, trying to ease the mounting
tension. With a curt nod to Mok, he allowed the day's inal
appointment to enter.
The instant he heard the click of the door opening, he raised his head,
only for his eyebrows to immediately furrow.
"What do you want?"
The unexpected guest linched, his wide, wary eyes lifting to meet her
gaze. There was a nervous hesitation in the way he shifted his weight,
visibly nervous. His face, delicate and heartbreakingly vulnerable,
looked ready to burst into tears.
It awakened something instinctive – the impulse to close the distance
and offer comfort.
But that had been months ago. Now, Thee felt nothing. Her heart, once
so easily in luenced, was numb. Every trace of emotion had been
locked away, leaving only a cold emptiness.
"Thank you for seeing me. Mr. Thee."
Aran's voice trembled despite his attempt to sound polite. His forced
smile barely masked the fear re lected in his trembling, clasped hands.
Thee watched indifferently, reclining in his leather chair. He didn't
bother to offer the man a seat.

"If you have something to say, spit it out."

Aran hesitated, clearly questioning himself. His eyes narrowed,
irritation sparking like a lit fuse. His patience, already worn thin by the
day’s endless grievances, was dangerously close to wearing thin.
There were too many reasons to be angry today.
“I’m begging for mercy.” Ann’s voice was barely above a whisper, illed
with unshed tears. Her reddened eyes shone with unspoken sadness.
“Please let Tawan go.”
For a leeting moment, Thee stood still. Her stormy, smoke-gray eyes
darkened, turning colder than winter frost. The name she hated to
hear echoed loudly in her mind, igniting the embers of unresolved fury.
“Did anyone ask that asshole to stop acting like a bastard?” His voice
was low and sharp. For an instant, an image lashed through her mind:
a young photographer lying motionless in an austere hospital bed.
That bruised corner of his mouth. His frail body, almost devoured by
the sterile whiteness of the sheets. If Thee hadn’t intervened, would
anyone have bothered to defend him?
“But what you did to Tawan… it was too much,” Aran muttered,
shaking his head. His voice, barely a whisper, was thick with
exhaustion. “To Tawan… and his family. Don’t you think it went too
far?”
"I don't see how it was," Thee replied coldly. Her expression was
inscrutable, making Aran's face pale even further.
"Tawan is seriously injured. He's still in the ICU. His right hand... every
bone is shattered. He could be disabled for life. If that's not too much...
then what is?"

Aran's trembling voice cracked as tears ran freely down her cheeks.
Her small body trembled pitifully, consumed by helplessness. However,
Thee's cold gaze remained impassive, touched only by mild irritation.
"If his hands can't be used for anything good, he doesn't need them,"
Thee said calmly, as if he were talking about the weather. "As for his
family... if they couldn't raise him well, they'll have to face the
consequences."
“Mr. Thee…” Aran’s voice trembled as she spoke the name, barely
holding herself together. After taking a ragged breath, she took a
hesitant step towards him. Her wide, tear- illed eyes pleaded
desperately. Slender ingers, trembling with fear, slowly reached out
and lightly touched the back of Thee’s hand.
"Please... I beg you. Let Tawan go... just this once."
The instant those soft ingers brushed his skin, Thee jerked her hand
away, producing a loud, resounding slap. Aran gasped, clenching his
aching hand, now a stick and shaking from the impact. He stumbled
again, his delicate face etched with terror.
"Don't touch me!" He hissed, his revulsion cutting through the air like
a sword.
Aran's breathing became labored as tears blurred her vision, her chest
heaving with suppressed sobs.
The crushing weight of sadness and frustration destroyed every ounce
of self-control Aran had left.
“You have no heart!” she screamed, her small body shaking with fury.
“Why?! Don’t you like me? All I ask is that you let Tawan go – just this
once!”

That single sentence snapped Thee's already thin patience like a twig.
He hated being manipulated in the name of relationships, even more
so when someone dared to exploit his feelings.
"Where the hell did you get that idea?" Thee growled, her voice
dangerously low, any previous thoughts of wanting Aran in her bed
now completely forgotten.
“Everyone says it… The makeup artists said it too…” Aran’s voice
trailed off, her con idence crumbling under Thee’s suffocating gaze.
Suddenly, doubts began to creep into her mind. Something didn’t add
up. The atmosphere around Thee had become oppressive, threatening;
nothing about her screamed affection.
The makeup artists had said that Thee was hopelessly in love with
him. That she only followed him out of jealousy. They even claimed
that the attack on Tawan had been driven by possessiveness. They
insisted on this when Aran had hesitated, pointing out how Thee
barely seemed to want to be around him.
At irst, Aran hadn’t quite believed it, but Tawan’s mother had cornered
him. Her fury was so intense it felt like a slap in the face. She had put all
the blame on him, ordering him to, for once, be useful to Tawan. Her
disgust for him, combined with her refusal to accept her son’s feelings
for another man, left him with no options.
And maybe... maybe they were right. After all, the CEO himself had
agreed to see him on such short notice. For a moment, his heart had
lifted, his hopes had soared.
But the man who now stood before him… didn’t it any of those
expectations. He wasn’t the man the makeup artists and crew had
described. Theerakit stood tall, his presence imposing and suffocating;
the tension in the air was so thick that Aran could barely breathe. His
legs began to shake, his knees threatening to collapse.

give in. Fear crept slowly into her heart, like ice spreading through her
veins.
"Did they bother to tell you that all I'm interested in is drugging you
into my bed?" Thee's deep voice was low but sharp, cutting through
the tense air like a blade. "Because, aside from sex, I don't see anything
remotely interesting in you."
The crude, dismissive words hit Aran like a slap, forcing him to clench
his hands into tight ists, nails digging painfully into his palms. Anger
burned in his chest, but Thee didn’t care. Aran had tried to manipulate
him, playing on his supposed feelings. Why should he return kindness?
"So, are you willing to crawl into my bed to save your precious friend?"
The question made Aran's head snap up, fear and panic etched on his
face. Thee's mouth curved into a cold, sinister, calculated, cruel, and
merciless smile.
"What a pity, you've already bored me." His voice dropped even lower,
more menacing than before, each word resonating with terrifying
inality. "The best thing you and that guy can do is disappear… before
my patience runs out."
"Oh! Hey, Peach! What are you doing standing here?"
Both men jumped, surprised by the sudden interruption. Thee's eyes
darted to the partially open door of the of ice, realizing with a start
that she hadn't locked the property when Aran entered, likely due to
her shaking hands.

Without wasting another second, Thee walked towards the door with
long, determined steps, practically opening it. There, pale as a ghost
with wide, shocked eyes, was Peach, the young photographer. Her face
had lost all color and her hands were shaking slightly, her expression a
mix of confusion and fear.
He must have heard everything.
Panic surged through Thee's chest, causing his hand to move as if he
wanted to reach out, but Peach stepped back before he could. The
young man lowered his gaze and bowed stif ly and awkwardly, as if he
didn't know how else to react.
“I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to eavesdrop. I just… overheard.” Peach
pursed her lips and held up a small bag of snacks. “I just came to share
some snacks from this morning with you and Mok.”
“Please listen to me,” Thee’s voice cracked with urgency. Words falling
out in disarray. She longed to take Peach into her arms, to explain
everything, but Peach held up a hand and stepped back to give her
some space.
“I’m sorry, but I’m not ready to talk right now, I just want to be alone for
a while.” His gaze shifted to Aran, still standing frozen in the of ice, lost
and uncertain. Peach’s eyes darkened with silent resignation. “Please
continue what you’re going to do… Don’t worry about me.”
Without waiting for a response, Peach turned and walked away,
shoulders squared but shaking enough to betray the storm within her.
He never looked back, not even once.

.......... .

More iles here

ATTENTION CALL #35

Peach lay sprawled on the loor, arms and legs outstretched, staring at
the white ceiling above. A whirlwind of emotions swirled within him,
leaving him more confused than ever.
Earlier that afternoon, she had caught a glimpse of the young gangster
sitting alone, looking heartbreakingly dejected. Even though Peach had
already texted him to say she couldn’t make it to lunch, Thee never
complained. He just sat there, eating alone in silence, his expression so
lonely that guilt twisted in Peach’s chest. Maybe she felt a little pity for
him, or maybe there was a hint of fondness mixed in as well.
After inishing her shots, Peach decided to take out two bags of snacks
she had saved that morning. One was for Mok, while the other... well, if
the young ma ia boy wasn't too busy, she thought they could share it
together.
When did I start thinking so much about Mr. Thee?
The thought persisted as he walked down the hall. He had never been
in Mr. Thee’s of ice before, but Mok had long ago given him
instructions, even assuring him that he was welcome at any time. If Mr.
Thee was with a client, Peach should let Mok know, but otherwise,
there was no need to hesitate. Although he found the invitation
disconcerting at irst, memories of Thee’s recent behavior stirred
something in his chest. He felt as if he was being courted. Mr. Thee
never said anything directly, but his actions spoke louder than words.
He listened intently, did his best to protect Peach – sometimes overly
dramatically – but always with genuine care. Peach had never been
pursued by a man before, but the thought didn’t faze him. Quite the
opposite – it stirred something.
warm and uncertain deep inside him, leaving him off balance.
He was still sorting out his emotions, unsure of where they might lead.
But one thing was clear: he was willing to try. He wouldn't rush or force
any response. Instead, he let his feelings grow naturally, step by step. If
they ever blossomed into something more... he would welcome it with
an open heart.
The young photographer stopped in front of the of ice door and
noticed that it wasn't completely closed. He hesitated, debating
whether to knock or look inside to see if Mr. Thee was busy. If there
were guests, he would quietly leave.
What I didn't expect was to see a beautiful-faced model standing in the
middle of the of ice, crying.
His steps faltered. Should he intervene? However, the mention of
"Tawan" in their heated conversation left him paralyzed. Fear
made his eyes widen even more.
I only knew about the legal battles – I had no idea things had escalated
into physical violence.
He frowned as he silently vowed to get to the bottom of this.
He understood Thee's temperament (being a mob boss had its
extremes), but the thought that Thee might have gone too far gnawed
at his conscience.
A part of him couldn't shake the feeling that somehow this might be
his fault.

He was about to open the door when the model's growing voice made
him pause.
Confronting a mob boss wasn't a great idea. But what he heard next
made his hand freeze in mid-air.
"Why?! You don't like me?"
"...I was only interested in dragging you into my bed..."
"So, are you willing to get into my bed to save your precious actor?"
The photographer stood there, paralyzed, his ears ringing as if the
world had gone silent except for the empty echo of those words. His
mind clouded over, and a sharp pain blossomed in his chest.
Even when the conversation made it clear that the mob had lost
interest in the model, the weight on his heart did not lift.
Confusion washed over him, mixed with a suffocating feeling of
helplessness. When Thee suddenly appeared in front of him, his words
dried up in his throat. He felt awkward, uncomfortable, too
overwhelmed to look into Thee's eyes.
In the end, he did the only thing he could do: he turned and ran. He
needed space, to gather his thoughts, to sort out the chaos in his mind.
"Peach, are you going to tell me why you're here or what?" The young
girl exclaimed as she approached, inally crouching down beside him.
"You suddenly packed up and went to stay at a girl's house. If Mr. Thee
inds out, he's going to blow up."
The mention of that name made him shudder and his gaze
instinctively shifted away. Unfortunately, his little sister, who had
grown up with him all her life, could read him like a book. She
narrowed her eyes and moved even closer.

"What happened? Tell me." Plub moved to sit cross-legged and rested
his chin on one hand with a mischievous grin. "Consider it the price for
staying here tonight."
Peach has never been one to keep anything from her sister, especially
after she showed up unannounced with a travel bag. She inally gave in
and told everything that had happened.
“You feel guilty about Tawan, don’t you?” Plub tilted his head
thoughtfully and crossed his arms. “I kind of understand that, but
honestly, you have nothing to feel bad about. He was the one who hurt
you irst! I still want to beat him up myself.”
"Yeah, but he only hit me once. He didn't have to go that far." His mouth
tightened, the lack of a sheath clouding his face.
“What was one punch to you probably felt like the end of the world to
Mr. Thee,” she muttered, almost to herself. Noticing his confused
expression, she quickly changed her focus. “Look, I’ll admit that Mr.
Thee crossed the line. But let’s face it, someone who strikes irst
without thinking, feels no remorse, never apologizes, and even sends
his lawyer and agent to clean up his mess… that kind of person needs
a serious wake-up call.” "Still...leaving someone in the ICU is too much."
Peach's slight smile was tinged with guilt, her gaze lowered. "The
worst thing is...a small part of me thought, 'He deserves it.'"
Plub frowned, but didn't argue. Instead, he picked up his phone,
checked his messaging app, and opened a conversation. "Here, read
this.
This is the latest press release. Tawan has a broken hand and some
bruising that is not life-threatening. He needs a splint and some
physical therapy, but he may not recover soon.

Peach picked up the phone and read carefully. The messages were from
a journalist, recalling him as a reliable entertainment journalist whom
Plub often contacted for reliable information about actors and models
his brand worked with.
Plub asked about Tawan. He brushed off a few harsh words with a
slight frown. The answer he received was simple: apart from his
injured right hand, the rest of his injuries were not that serious. He
only spent one night in the ICU because he looked pretty beat up when
he was irst found. The next day, he was moved to a regular hospital
room.
Peach's mouth dropped open slightly. The story she was hearing
seemed very different from what she had imagined.
"But Aran..." She felt the need to protest, feeling that something was
still not right.
"Peach, you never follow celebrity gossip, do you?"
He blinked and silently admitted that she was right. He had never kept
up with entertainment news; everything he knew came from Plub, who
played the all-knowing informant.
At this point, that insider leaned in conspiratorially, cupping his hand
as if he were about to spill some juicy celebrity tea – even though they
were the only two people in the room.
"Tawan's mother hates Aran. She has never accepted that her son likes
men. She always blocks them and hurls insults whenever she gets the
chance. When Tawan was hospitalized this time, Aran wasn't even
allowed to visit him." Plub shrugged. "I bet she pressured Aran
somehow. She probably told him some sad story about Tawan being
badly injured and then sent him off to get into trouble."
with Thee. Maybe she was hoping that Thee would change her mind
and help her with her business."
Peach's jaw dropped. She couldn't believe that someone would be so
low, deliberately throwing Aran to the wolves, hoping that the mob
boss would take out his anger on him. If the mob would calm down
afterwards, Tawan's mother might be able to emerge victorious.
“Breaking his wrist was de initely harsh. But as far as pressing charges
and cutting ties, I don’t think it was over the top.” Plub admitted as he
poured himself two glasses of water. He handed one to his brother.
“But there has to be something more. If it was just Tawan, someone
like you would have dragged him out for a serious talk, instead of
running away like that.”
Peach offered a slight, uneasy smile. They had both faced many of the
cruelties of life as orphans. They had seen the darker side of the world
so many times that hearing about a mob boss beating someone up
wouldn't make him run away.
He may seem kind, but he wasn't naive. He understood how brutal the
world could be. And honestly, he didn't even blame the mob for losing
control. If someone had hurt Plub and he had enough power,
Wouldn't he have done the same? At the very least, he would have
asked you to be calmer – he still felt guilty about how far things had
gone.
With a tired sigh, Peach ran a hand over her face, trying to erase the
lingering memory of Thee’s harsh voice echoing in her mind, the way
he’d propositioned Aran like it meant nothing. Even though she knew
Mr. Thee had backed out afterward, the bitter taste of that moment still
stubbornly clung to her chest.

“I heard Mr. Thee tell Aran to sleep with him,” she admitted quietly,
guilt and awkwardness weighing down her words. “He was probably
angry… he said it in the heat of the moment… but still… I hated
hearing it.”
He had told himself a long time ago that he could handle anything Thee
threw his way. But hearing it irsthand was a different story. It hurt him
a lot more than he expected.
So much so that the thought of seeing him again seemed too much.
She was afraid that Thee would show up at her condo like she always
did, so she took her things and led to Plub's house.
He didn't run away. He was regrouping. He was de initely just catching
his breath.
Plub raised an eyebrow, slid in next to him, and gently placed a hand on
the back of his, her ingers tracing soothing circles.
"I think you like Mr. Thee now"
The words hit like a punch, making Peach linch. He turned his head to
her, eyes wide and cheeks lushed in an instant.
"That?!"
“You like Mr. Thee. If you didn’t, why would you be so upset?” Plus
rolled onto his stomach, resting his chin on his hands with a smirk. His
smile widened. “Come on, three-time Best
Advisor of the Year, and now you can’t even understand your own
feelings?”
TRANSLATION: Fx|Sx

Peach opened her mouth and then closed it again. Her mind struggled
for an answer, but even denying that she liked you felt like something
she couldn't say.
He had never lied to his sister. He always told Plub to be honest with
herself. He couldn't start lying to her now.
"No, Plub, it's just a good feeling, that's all," she murmured, eyes
drifting to the window. "He and I are... worlds apart.
Even if what he did to Tawan makes sense, a part of me is still scared.
What if he ignores me one day? What if the blade he used on others
ends up cutting me… especially since I'm a man, too?
"You can't keep thinking about all of that by yourself. You have to let
him share the burden too." Plub frowned and stood up to sit cross-
legged. "I think you really care. Why don't you try talking about it?"
Peach turned to meet his gaze, a slight, tender smile tugging at her lips.
"Thank you, you're the best little sister anyone could ask for." He
opened his arms and Plub happily sank into his shoulder, hugging him
tightly.
"You're going to talk to Mr. Thee, right?" she asked, her voice muf led
against his shirt.
"Yes, I think I have to. But irst give me a few days to sort myself out.
You won't kick me out in the meantime, will you?"
Plub laughed mischievously and stood up straighter. His large, doe-like
eyes sparkled with a cunning spark, hinting that something crafty was
brewing in his mind.

"Peach, let me be the one to tell Mr. Thee that you want to talk."
“Huh?” He made a questioning sound, but didn’t outright refuse. Plub’s
smile widened, a near-perfect mirror of his own mocking expression
when he was plotting something.
“I’ll let him know. At the very least, let me evaluate my potential
brother-in-law.” She chirped, practically radiating excitement. Her
smile grew so wide that her eyes crinkled. Peach, already blushing
from embarrassment, could only groan inwardly. There was no
stopping her when she was like this, anyway.

ATTENTION CALL #36

Plub walked con idently down the hall after the secretary granted her
permission to see the CEO – or rather, after she contacted him and was
practically escorted straight to his of ice.
“Mr. Thee’s mood has been a little unpredictable lately,” Mok warned
with a serious expression. As he walked, he noticed several employees
passing by with tense faces. “He’s always intense at work, but he’s
been very meticulous lately.”
Plub frowned slightly, but just nodded. The atmosphere seemed calmer
than he expected. He had imagined the classic mob storm – raging
anger, throwing things – but he remembered the serenity Mr. Thee
displayed when they went to eat shabu.
Mok knocked on the large of ice door before announcing her arrival.
Inside, the tall man sat behind a huge desk, surrounded by piles of
documents. His hands stopped only when she entered.
Theerakit looked up, his chiseled face marred by visible exhaustion,
dark circles shadowing his piercing eyes, and his broad shoulders,
usually held high with authority, seemed slightly slumped. However,
the atmosphere was cold, sharp enough to chill the room. In his hand,
he gently cradled a delicate wind chime, holding it as if it were
something precious.
Normally, Plub would have been intimidated – after all, she was still
technically just a subordinate. But today she came as Peach’s sister,
ready to size up a potential brother-in-law. Fear had no place here.

His piercing smoky grey eyes slowly moved away from her, blinking
with equal parts hope and anxiety.
"Is Peach with you? How is she?"
Plub raised an eyebrow. Her brother had been staying with her for
three days. He had told her that he needed time to gather his thoughts
and decide what to say. Besides, the young mobster had been in a
volatile mood lately and Peach didn't want things to turn into a
shouting match.
Not that Thee made staying unnoticed easy – he visited Peach so often
that the condo security assumed they lived together and even reissued
him a key card. Staying at his old place would have been like waving a
red lag in front of a bull. Thee would have surely broken in, no doubt.
Still, Peach hadn't disappeared completely. She avoided phone calls,
but still responded to Thee's messages, albeit less frequently due to
her hectic work schedule. If it weren't for that, Plub might have thought
that his brother had left Mr. Thee for good.
But judging from the nearly one hundred text messages Thee had sent,
it was clear that the reduced communication was not on Peach's side,
but rather it was Thee who had increased her messages.
"You made Peach cry," Plub lied softly, though his brother hadn't shed a
single tear despite being visibly exhausted.
“I was really heartbroken. Why would you hurt him like that?” Just that,
and he could see Mr. Thee instantly fade away so that all the color, the
cheerful atmosphere became even more gloomy. Seeing his pained
expression made Plub’s lips twitch in amusement.

This was kind of fun.

She let him feel guilty for a moment longer – consider it payback for
making her brother feel like shit. But when Thee just sat there looking
completely defeated, she inally sighed and decided to cut down on the
drama.
At irst, she had been prepared to run off with Peach if Thee lost his
temper. But instead, he seemed to wither before her eyes, like a plant
left abandoned under the scorching sun. She couldn't bear to see him
like this, especially when her brother was in just as bad a state.
"Aren't you mad at Peach?" Plub asked cautiously, his eyes narrowing
as if trying to catch him in a lie.
“Why should I be angry? He’s the one who’s angry with me.” You leaned
back in your chair and looked down, pained and distant. Your ingers
brushed the wind chime in your hand as if its gentle touch could
anchor you. “He probably hates me already.”
Plub planted his hands on his hips. Watching Thee sink deeper and
deeper into her melancholy was quickly getting boring. With a sigh, he
turned on his heel, grabbed a chair, and dragged it over until it was
right in front of him. Adjusting his glasses, he did his best to look
serious.
"I want to ask you something – seriously." Plub took a deep breath,
calming himself down, "What exactly do you feel for Peach?"
“I like it,” Thee replied instantly, without even a hint of hesitation.
His voice was irm, his words slow and deliberate, as if he needed to
convince even himself.
This wasn't a passing thought. Ever since Peach had walked away.
Your feelings had only grown sharper, more undeniable.

"I like Peach… I love your brother"

Plub's lips curved into a soft smile as the tension in the room eased.
"You won't hurt my brother, right?"
"Never."
Thee's storm-grey eyes locked with hers, deadly serious. His brows
furrowed as if the very question was a personal affront. Plub let out a
soft sigh, his gaze lowering for a moment.
When she looked back at him, his eyes shone with a warm tranquility,
tinged with something deeper.
“There’s something you need to know. Peach would never tell anyone
this, but I think you should know.” She said slowly, her voice almost
distant, as if she were telling someone else’s life story. “We weren’t
orphans to begin with. We had a mother… but she remarried, and the
man she chose turned out to be a cruel monster. He was violent and
drank. But our mother… she loved him anyway. We were just kids.
There was nothing we could do.”
Thee sat up straight, paying attention to every word. Her eyes
darkened with a silent intensity, as if she were etching every piece of
the story into her memory, silently vowing to keep every fragment of
Peach's past close to her heart.
"There was one time when I had a really high fever. Peach literally got
down on her knees and begged our mom to take me to the hospital.
But she didn't care. She loved her husband more than her own
children. So when that monster said no, she left us to fend for
ourselves. Peach took a pretty bad beating that day – her arm was
broken.
And me? They just left me there, waiting to die." Plub began

softly, her gaze falling to the ground. Her voice cracked slightly, but she
continued on, her expression composed even though the words
carried the weight of old wounds. Time had numbed the sharp pain,
but the scars were still there, faint but impossible to ignore.
"Ever since then, Peach has hated violence. Like... she really hates it.
To be honest, he's not perfect, he has his rough sides and sometimes a
vengeful streak. But when it comes to violence, he's afraid of it.
Whether it's doing it or being the one on the receiving end, he just
can't stand it.
The young mobster froze. His grey eyes widened in surprise and a jolt
of realization hit him like a freight train. His mind lashed back to that
day at the diner, the day he grabbed Peach's arm too tightly. It left a red
mark on Peach's wrist, barely anything, but her face had gone
completely pale.
And that other time, outside the of ice, Peach's face had turned ghostly
again. Her eyes were wide and unfocused, shaking with a fear so
intense it was impossible to ignore, even though she tried to hide it.
Peach wasn't just "scared," he was "traumatized."
"What happened after that?" Thee asked, her voice dry and raspy, her
expression a mix of seriousness and sadness. She had to know
everything, every detail.
When it came to Peach, nothing was smaller and more insigni icant.
"Afterwards? Peach picked me up and ran. We managed to escape from
the house and someone helped us. Peach lied and said our mom was
dead, so we ended up in an orphanage. We stayed there until Peach
turned eighteen. As soon as she was old enough, we moved out and
started living on our own." She concluded it as if it were a simple story
and

clear, shaking it as if it couldn't bear the weight of a thousand

shattered moments. Her casual tone made it sound like one of those
"ten years later" cliché s in a novel, glossing over the struggles and the
pain.
Although everyone knew it wasn't entirely true, there must have been
countless good and bad times in the past. But none of that mattered
now.
"We never talked about it again. Even Plub never mentioned how
scared Peach gets of violence. Honestly, I'm not sure Peach even
realizes it."
It was something only a sister who had lived by his side all her life
could notice. Peach avoided action movies, skipped any sports that
involved combat, and always looked pale when he saw news about
violence. He tried to stay away from anything related to it, like running
away from a recurring nightmare he couldn't escape.
“It’s my fault.” She muttered softly, sadness and anxiety tightening her
chest. “I never meant to make Peach feel that way.” But it wasn’t just
about making him feel bad. Thee realized that she barely knew the real
Peach.
Behind that bright smile and calm, gentle demeanor – the protective
haven she created for others – Peach may have been more fragile than
anyone could imagine.
Not crying didn't mean not suffering. A wound that had healed didn't
mean the pain had gone away.
"You shouldn't blame yourself too much, Mr. Thee. Honestly... both Plub
and Peach enjoyed watching how things were made and developed."

The young woman shrugged indifferently. This might have been the
irst time Tawan had resorted to physical violence, but it certainly
wasn't the irst time Peach had gotten into trouble because of him.
“But I still made a mistake… I made Peach hate me.” The mob boss’s
shoulders slumped, his sharp, intimidating face shadowed by a slight
sadness. His voice grew softer, almost defeated.
"I doubt he hates you. If he did, he wouldn't have let me organize this
meeting."
Thee's head snapped up, her eyes widening in shock, shining with a
spark of hope. The young woman chuckled and decided that she had
tested her future brother-in-law enough for now.
"Do you have time tomorrow afternoon, Mr. Thee? Peach would like to
talk."
“Of course,” Thee replied instantly, her tone irm and con ident. Even if
her schedule wasn’t free, she would make sure it was.
"I already want to start calling you Brother Thee." Plub joked with a
bright, playful smile as he stood up. "But, Mr. CEO, do your best, okay? I
only have one request - never, ever use force on my brother. And if the
day comes when I no longer love Peach, please send her back to me."
Thee looked at her, his gaze irm and unwavering. There was a gravity
in his expression that made it clear he had never been more serious in
his life.
"That day will never come. I swear."
………………..

Peach inished all the work on the winter collection on the third day.
After the last-minute change to the main model, there was a mountain
of tasks – promotional images, magazine layouts and more.
Peach couldn't help but feel guilty for being the cause of such a big
reboot, so he volunteered to help with the inal edits of the
photographs and even helped with the layout and art of the magazine.
Honestly, part of the reason he got into work was because his mind
had been all over the place lately. He wasn't sleeping well, so when
insomnia hit, he just got up and worked all night.
Peach picked up her phone and checked the unread messages on her
app.
Among the messages from his team members, one name stood out at
the top: Mr. Thee. A new noti ication from him had just appeared.
He responded to his team's messages irst before opening Thee's.
Most of Thee's previous texts were short and sharp, asking where she
was, how she was doing, and why she hadn't returned to her condo.
Peach chuckled at the slightly bossy tone in those messages before her
eyes landed on the most recent one.
T: Tomorrow I'm free all afternoon
And the next morning too.
Peach couldn’t help but chuckle quietly, immediately assuming that
Plub had gone ahead and arranged the meeting. He had mentioned the
night before that he would inform Mr. Thee about the appointment.
She had insisted on going alone, determined to question her future
brother-in-law irst.
Apparently, only if Mr. Thee passed her little test would she agree to
host the meeting.
Couldn't help but worry – what if that scary Russian ma ia boss lost his
temper and beat up his sister? Plub was very direct, almost

to the extreme. If she accidentally said something that upset you,

How could I intervene to help?
But Plub didn't seem worried in the slightest. She laughed and said, "If
I come back with a scratch, that proves that Thee is a horrible person.
There's no way I'm going to allow someone like that to become my
brother-in-law."
"Hey. I'm back!"
Peach looked up at the cheerful voice coming from the door. Plub
walked in with his arms full of bags and his hands burdened by what
looked like quite the feast. One of the large white bags had the logo of a
famous Korean restaurant on it, and the aroma of sweet garlic fried
chicken wafted through the room, instantly making her stomach
rumble.
Not only unscathed but positively glowing – he couldn't help but
wonder if something suspiciously good had happened.
"What's all this, Plub?" he asked as he stood up to help her unload the
bags onto the table. "Did you win the lottery or something?"
"Why did you buy so much?" He knew his sister loved Korean food, but
it was a ridiculous amount for just the two of them. It felt like a waste.
“Sorry to disappoint you,” he joked, laughing mischievously. “I didn’t
spend a single baht on all of this. It’s all courtesy of a certain someone
who foots the bill.”
"Come on, come on, I'm starving!"
He raised an eyebrow, intrigued, but decided not to press her any
further. Instead, he helped ladle the kimchi soup into bowls while Plub
happily arranged the assortment of chicken boxes on the table. Once
everything was ready and chopsticks were handed out, they inally sat
down to eat.

"Peach," he said, and his sister dropped a piece of glazed fried chicken
onto her plate. "I've already made the appointment with you. His
secretary said you should call him to con irm the time – she said you
have his number."
“So, does that mean it passed?” Peach asked with a playful smile.
Honestly, he could already tell just from the way she came back in a
very good mood – and with an offering of food – no less, that the
answer was obvious.
"She passed, but whether she can win you over or not, well, that's a
whole different story." She tried to keep a straight face, but it was hard
to take her seriously when she was still chewing on a mouthful of
chicken.
"That being said, while he's trying to woo you, feel free to milk him for
all he's worth. Free meals every day? Sounds like a dream to me!"
"Milking a mob boss for three meals a day? Really?"
Peach laughed, and Plub immediately started ranting about how much
her daily food expenses were as an of ice worker, worrying about
another laugh from her.
The two continued to joke around for a few minutes, but soon the
playful atmosphere calmed down.
Plub rested his chin on his hand and looked at his brother with warm,
thoughtful eyes.
"Peach. I'm so glad someone can inally take care of you." He said softly,
his voice laced with sincerity. She smiled slightly, her big, round eyes
shining with unshed tears behind her glasses. "But just make sure it's
someone you really love,
Okay? Don't worry about me. If you're not ready to give an answer, then
don't. And if it doesn't work, then just put it aside. No matter what
happens, I'll always be by your side."

Peach was silent for a moment, wondering if Plub still held a grudge
over the whole Wivit situation. She once thought that she was the
reason Peach had to endure Wivit's mistreatment, and while that
wasn't entirely wrong, it had been Peach's decision. There was no need
for her to bear the blame.
Reaching out, he placed a hand on her head and gently ruf led her hair
back and forth affectionately.
"Understood. This time, I promise I'll listen to my own heart irst."
Peach said with a smile.
Plub nodded enthusiastically, exclaiming, "Good!" before turning back
to his chicken, biting into a sauced wing with total concentration. He
dropped everything else
– her brother’s decisions, Thee’s persistence, and the future – in
Peach’s hands.
In the meantime, she would keep herself busy milking that grumpy
mob boss for all he was worth, at least until Peach discovered her
answer.

ATTENTION CALL #37

It was the second time Peach found herself walking down that long
hallway.
He looked around silently, taking in the immaculate white walls and
polished marble loors that gleamed under the soft lighting.
Meeting rooms and of ice doors lined the hallway on either side,
slightly spaced apart from each other, and at the end was a large
wooden door, imposing but welcoming.
Peach opened it and entered a modestly sized room. To the right was
the secretary's desk, while on the left side was a small seating area
complete with a coffee machine and snacks. On the far wall was
another door – one that led to the CEO's of ice.
The last time he was here, he stopped right in front of this very door.
Now, Peach offered Mok, the secretary, a polite smile in silent
acknowledgement before taking a deep breath. Then, she passed.
The room beyond was huge and elegantly intimidating. A plush black
carpet covered the loor, cushioning your footsteps as you entered. The
decor leaned heavily towards dark tones of black and deep red,
exuding power and sophistication. In the center was an imposing desk,
while on the opposite side, a set of plush leather sofas were carefully
arranged to welcome guests.
Mr. Thee was sitting on one of those couches. As soon as he noticed
Peach entering, the tall man jumped to his feet, his smoky grey eyes
ixed on him. There was a licker of unease in his gaze, almost as if he
was afraid Peach might turn and run away. Peach approached slowly,
her steps faltering as she noticed something strange – on a table.

In front of the sofas were more than three glasses of whiskey. He raised
an eyebrow and looked at you with slight confusion.
"Do you have any guests? If so, I can come back later."
"No! I don't have any guests. I've cleared my entire schedule." The mob
blurted out, their voice alarmed, almost terri ied.
"So why are there extra glasses of water?"
“They’re not for anyone else. I made it for you.” He paused, his usual
con idence faltering as he struggled to explain himself. “I thought you
might want to throw one at me irst. You know, to blow off some steam
or something.”
And then you'd still have another one to drink afterwards in case you
got tired."
Peach's jaw dropped. She felt like she had just heard something so
absurd that it gave her a slight headache. Seeing Thee puff out her
chest and stand on guard like a martyr ready to be doused with water
made Peach raise her hands in surrender.
"I'm not going to throw water on you, Thee. It would make a mess."
"The loor is carpeted. If you throw it, the water will just soak in. It
won't make a mess," Thee explained, with excessive seriousness.
Peach couldn't for the world understand why anyone would need such
an explanation.
"That's exactly what a mess it would make! The carpet would be a
nightmare to clean! At least think of the poor cleaning staff."
"Water doesn't stain. And if it does, I'll just replace the entire carpet.
"Problem solved," he replied, expressionless, as if he were talking
about buying something as trivial as a pack of gum. "I'll take care of the
rest."

Peach opened his mouth, trying to come up with an answer, but ended
up closing it again, completely lost. His head was starting to hurt from
the absurdity of the conversation. It felt like they were stuck in a
strange loop, and he didn't even know where to begin to untangle it. In
the end, he gave up and changed tactics completely.
"I don't want to throw water on you," he said irmly.
He nodded as if he inally understood. Peach breathed a long, silent
sigh of relief and sat down on the couch next to him. Despite avoiding
you in person lately, Peach still replied to your messages regularly.
They had kept in touch. But now that they were face to face, the air
between them felt oddly awkward, heavy in a way that was hard to
explain.
Peach glanced at the man beside her. His brow furrowed, his
expression tense and serious, as if he was thinking about some major
crisis at the company, Peach watched him silently, trying to piece
together what was going on. Thee had the sharp, handsome face that
normally exuded con idence and control. Now he was showing
unmistakable signs of exhaustion. Dark circles hung under his eyes,
his temples were visibly strained, and there was a faint stubble along
his jaw as if he hadn’t bothered to shave in a long time.
Even his normally piercing smoky grey eyes had dimmed.
its brightness dulled by fatigue,
He looked as exhausted as he said.
“Mr. Thee, have you been very busy with work lately?” Peach asked, her
voice soft as she unconsciously reached out to touch Thee’s slightly
sunken cheek. “It seems like you’ve lost a bit of weight.”

Thee froze for a moment, her gaze ixed on Peach’s hand resting on her
face. Peach immediately realized what she had done and linched,
quickly pulling her hand back as she mumbled an apology. But Thee’s
hand was quicker. She placed her palm over Peach’s, holding it loosely
in place – irm enough to keep her from pulling away. Instead of letting
go, Thee leaned into the touch, letting her scruffy cheek, dusted with a
faint stubble, press against Peach’s warm palm.
"Thank you for worrying about me," Thee murmured, her voice low
and tired.
Her eyes closed, and for a moment she looked completely vulnerable,
almost fragile. "I've had some things on my mind lately."
"Your job must be really stressful. I'm sorry if I've added delays to the
Winter project because of me."
“Not at all, that project doesn’t worry me in the slightest,” Thee replied
softly, her tone reassuring. She turned her head slightly and placed a
light kiss on Peach’s palm, causing the young man to freeze in shock.
“What drives me crazy is when you disappear like that. Please, if
something’s bothering you, tell me. Just don’t disappear without
saying a word again, okay?”
Heat looded Peach's face, burning all the way to the tips of her ears.
She stammered incoherently, looking left and right in a panic, unsure
of how to respond. Still, for some reason, she didn't try to pull her hand
away. The warmth of Thee's touch, her gentle grip, was strangely
comforting, and Peach herself found herself unable to break the
connection.
Thee, however, was the one who backed away, albeit reluctantly. She let
go of Peach's hand for a brief moment, though she quickly took it back.

Again, his ingers gently ran over the back of Peach's hand in a tender,
almost absent-minded motion.
"I'm sorry if I scared you," Thee admitted quietly, her voice tinged with
guilt.
Her gaze lowered slightly, as if she were embarrassed. “I was so angry.
Just thinking about something happening to you – I couldn’t control
my emotions. If you had been hurt any more, or if you had fallen and
hit something, or even if that blow had landed in the wrong place with
too much force… you could have been seriously injured or worse – just
imagining that possibility, it was unbearable.”
She hesitated for a moment, her stormy grey eyes lifting to meet
Peach’s gaze. But instead of holding it, her attention shifted and
lingered on the corner of Peach’s lips. The scar had long since healed,
but the memory of that day’s blood seemed to remain etched in Thee’s
mind. Gently, her rough ingers reached out, lightly brushing the corner
of Peach’s mouth, as if they were wiping away something only he could
still see.
"I'm so sorry," Thee murmured, her voice low and solemn. "But I don't
regret what I did to that actor. If I had to choose again, I'd do it all over
again."
Although this time I won't let you ind out.
Peach let out a deep sigh, trying to steady the erratic rhythm of her
heart. This time it wasn't fear, not the kind she'd felt before.
Instead, it was a strange warmth that spread through him, shaking him
to his core in a way that was almost more terrifying.
I was scared... but if it was Thee, maybe it was okay.

“I don’t blame you. I understand. You’re a mob boss. Things like this
should come naturally to you.” Peach said softly, her lips curling into a
slight, hesitant smile. Her voice was warm, her eyes soft. She added, “If
anything, I should be thanking you. Without you, I probably would have
been hurt for nothing, unable to ight back at all.”
In this messy world, no matter how hard he tried, some things just
couldn't be changed.
“But I still made you feel uncomfortable,” Thee muttered, lowering her
voice again. Her expression clouded with guilt, her usual authoritative
demeanor completely gone.
This time, it was Peach who squeezed Thee's hand tighter, offering a
gentle squeeze in an unspoken attempt to comfort him.
"First of all," Peach admitted, her voice calmer, "I thought it was too
much. I didn't expect it to go so far as to end up in the hospital."
“You ended up in the hospital too,” Thee snapped, her solitaire taking
on a scolding tone.
But before Peach could respond, Thee shook her head quickly, cutting
off the conversation.
“Forget it. Let’s not talk about this anymore. It’ll only make you feel
worse.”
Peach nodded silently, dropping the topic as Thee wished. Her gaze fell
on their still clasped hands – with no sign that Thee intended to let go
anytime soon.
But he should ask. If he didn't, the doubt would only continue to eat
away at him from within.
"Mr. Thee, do you still like Aran?"

"No, I never liked Aran. Before, it was just lust. I've never had even a
shred of genuine feelings for that model," Thee stated irmly.
His tone had an air of much more serious inality than that of a
previous conversation.
"But you invited Aran into your bed."
“I was being petty. I hate people who try to use my feelings for their
own bene it.” Thee frowned, realizing that her words could be
misinterpreted and quickly explained, “But I didn’t have any feelings
for him. That was all in his head. I took care of all those rumors. They
won’t come up again.”
The slight smile on his companion's lips grew wider, to the point that
he had to duck his head to hide it. Oddly enough, hearing Thee's
emphatic refusal illed his chest with an inexplicable warmth. It was
ridiculous how pleased he felt at such a simple statement.
He didn't even want to know how much weight this mob boss had in
his heart now.
"I thought you liked Aran," he murmured, testing the waters.
"I like you".
The blunt confession was so out of place that it startled him, and his
head snapped up to meet Thee's gaze. The smoky grey eyes he had
admired since their irst meeting met his own, unwavering and
intense. They carried a seriousness that made his heart skip a beat.
Thee's lips pursed as if in preparation, his large hand trembling
slightly as he held hers. The man who ruled with an iron ist, a model of

con idence and pride, now stood before him with her defenses
stripped away, hounding his soul as if begging for her feelings to be
seen.
“I’ve never cared about anyone,” Thee began, her voice low but irm.
“No one outside of my family. Everyone else has always been
insigni icant. Until the day I met you.” She lowered her head and placed
a soft kiss on the back of her mate’s hand, her piercing gaze irm and
pleading. “You’re the only one who matters. The only one I’ve ever truly
felt anything for. Without you, there’s no one else.”
He froze, mouth slightly agape as the words stuck in his throat. A deep
blush spread across his cheeks, making his eyes sting as if tears
threatened to fall. And when he saw the faint redness creeping up
Thee’s ears, his own embarrassment reached a whole new level.
What just happened? What did you just hear?
He stood still like a robot that had run out of battery. Thee, clearly
nervous, inched closer until she rested her chin on his shoulder. That
inally brought him out of his stupor. He linched slightly, but the
weight on her shoulder and the irm grip of her hand kept him
anchored in place.
"I don't know," he stammered, his voice shaking. Thee's gaze was
sweet and unforgiving, making him feel even more nervous. Her hands
moved awkwardly, as if they didn't know where to go. "I've never dated
a guy before. I've never even liked him."
“But you’re not pushing me away. You’re not trying to run away.” Thee
replied softly, moving to sit on the same couch, his larger body inching
closer. He wasn’t even touching him, not really, but the way Thee
leaned in felt overwhelming, like he was being swallowed whole.

How was I supposed to escape this?

He screamed internally, wanting to scream it out loud but too
exhausted to do anything but sit there, stiff. His lips pressed into a thin
line, his cheeks burning enough to make him worry that he might
actually be running a fever.
"I don't hate you, okay?" he muttered, turning his head as far as he
could.
Why did Thee have to get so close? It wasn't fair!
Although he didn't push him, it was still embarrassing!
"So if you don't hate me, that means you like me, right?"
“What kind of logic is that!” he replied instantly, his frustration boiling
over. He turned sharply to look at Thee, only to freeze again. Their
faces were so close that their noses were almost touching. He could
feel Thee’s heat, every breath shared in the space between them.
Thee held his gaze for a long moment before slowly backing away. Her
retreat was careful, deliberate, and tinged with reluctance.
It seemed like he was forcing himself to let go, telling himself over and
over that it wasn't the right time. Even if it was just a kiss, he was
willing to wait until the day he heard the words. I'm ready .
For him, even a single kiss felt so precious that he wanted to treasure it
forever.
"Peach," he said softly, his voice steady despite the whirlwind of
emotions.
"If you have feelings for me – anything – then maybe... we should try
dating."

The young photographer shifted slightly, giving her room to sit

properly. His large hand still played with the smaller one, though, his
touch gentle but persistent. His gaze, however, was more serious than
ever.
He blinked in confusion, completely lost on how their conversation
had come to this. Seeing his bewilderment, Thee straightened her back
and spoke again, her tone determined.
"I know my job keeps me busy, but I promise I'll take care of you.
Wherever you want to go, whatever you want to do, just tell me and I'll
take care of everything. I can take you out to eat in Japan. You've only
been to two of those 'Restaurants You Must Try Before You Die', right?
I'll take you to the other eight, no problem. If anyone dares to mess
with you, I'll take care of it. I'll be your strongest ally, no questions
asked.
And if you want to work, I'll never stop you. But if one day you just want
to rest, you can do that. I'll take care of everything for you."
At that, he couldn't take it anymore. Lifting his free hand, he gestured
to Thee as if to say 'enough', as the embarrassment clouding his mind
began to fade, replaced by laughter bubbling up inside him. Still, his
cheeks were still burning red.
"What's this? You're selling yourself pretty well, huh? This is
overexertion."
Thee’s smile widened, his eyes shining with delight. Just seeing her
laughter made Thee’s chest ill with warmth. He reached out, taking
the hand Peach had raised to stop him, and gently lifted it to his lips,
pressing a soft, reverent kiss to Peach’s knuckles. The entire time, his
intense gaze never left her face, not even for a second.

"I haven't even told you the most important part yet," Thee said softly,
her voice now tender. "If you go out with me, I will be your family. I
swear that I will love, care for, and protect our family for the rest of my
life."
He stood frozen, his large eyes locked with Thee's. The words struck a
chord so deep it seemed as if they resonated in his soul. Slowly, a tear
slid down his cheek, unbidden, as his lips curved into the widest smile
he'd ever had.
"Is this promotion a limited time offer?"
He gently wiped away the stray tear with care, his touch so delicate as
if he was afraid of breaking something precious. His smile widened,
matching the warmth of his eyes.
"Until my last breath"

ATTENTION CALL #38

At the slightly ajar of ice door, two pairs of eyes peered out, intently
observing the scene inside. Although they were too far away to catch
the conversation, every gesture, glance, and movement was clearly in
their minds.
The irst pair belonged to Mok, Thee's secretary, who discreetly kept
an eye on everything out of concern. Although he trusted Thee not to
hurt Peach, the unpredictable changes in his boss's mood lately had
made him uneasy.
The second pair belonged to the younger brother of the mob. Tall and
sturdy like his older brother, he had surrounded the little secretary in a
tight hug, resting his chin on the top of Mok’s head as he watched the
scene unfold with curiosity.
"I never thought I'd see the day when my older brother fell head over
heels in love like this," Rome muttered, a low chuckle bubbling in his
chest. "This trip turned out to be a lot more entertaining than I
expected. I guess I'll just have to call Mom and spill the tea."
"Mr. Krich, don't make fun of Mr. Thee." Mok said as he straightened up
and gently pushed Rome back. He quickly closed the door, giving those
inside their privacy once again.
"Mom's a tyrant, you know that," Rome replied with a mischievous
grin, already pulling out his phone to scroll through his contacts. "If
anything, she'll probably be so excited she'll hop on the next light to
Thailand."
Her mom and dad were a modern, open-minded couple. Mom, a
former supermodel and actress with a wide circle of diverse friends,
had always been supportive of all kinds of love.

As for Dad, his main concern was not gender at all.

He was far more concerned that his workaholic eldest son would
completely disconnect from love. Dad, a hopeless romantic who had
adored his wife for nearly forty years, simply wanted his children to
ind someone to share their lives with, just as he had.
"But I'm pretty sure the lady would be even happier if Mr. Thee told her
himself."
Rome paused, his expression turning thoughtful for a moment before a
mischievous glint lashed in his silver-grey eyes. He leaned closer, a
smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.
"In that case, do you have something to shut me up, Mok?"
The secretary's eyebrows furrowed, his face remaining serene despite
the slight blush creeping up his faces. With a sharp intake of breath,
Mok pursed his lips and stepped forward, cupping Rome's face in both
hands before planting a irm kiss on his lips.
However, just as he intended to walk away, Rome moved faster.
The young mobster’s strong hands gripped Mok’s waist, pulling him
closer, as one hand slid up to cup the back of his neck. The playful kiss
turned into something deeper, heavier, as Rome’s lips pressed more
insistently against his own. A soft lick of his tongue brushed Mok’s
lips before moving past, transforming the kiss into a heated exchange
that left the smaller man breathless.
Mok weakly pounded his ists against Rome's chest in protest, inally
managing to pull back enough to catch his breath. But Rome wasn't
done. He leaned in for a few more kisses, ignoring the blush spreading
across Mok's face.

"That's way too expensive for a bribe," Mok muttered, covering his
mouth with both hands as he glared at Rome, his cheeks burning red.
Rome just laughed, completely pleased with himself, as he watched
Mok snort and storm off to his desk.
Rome said he was going to grab a coffee, but the moment Mok was out
of sight, he pulled out his phone and began typing furiously, a smug
smile on his face. He sent a quick text to the family group chat.
Coincidentally, I just wanted to invite Mom to visit Thailand soon,
adding a tantalizing teaser about a surprise that awaited her and that
she would have to ask this brother herself.
Meanwhile, inside the of ice, Thee's con ident gaze and persuasive
tone seemed to draw Peach deeper. The already fragile walls of
resistance crumbled completely. Flustered but unable to resist, Peach
nodded slightly, her heart pounding so loudly that she swore she could
hear explosions in her head.
………………..
Meanwhile, inside the of ice, Thee's con ident gaze and persuasive
tone seemed to draw Peach in even more. The already fragile walls of
resistance crumbled completely. Embarrassed but unable to resist,
Peach nodded lightly, her heart pounding so loudly that she swore she
heard explosions in her head.
The moment he said yes, Thee broke into the widest smile Peach had
ever seen. Her eyes sparkled, as if someone had set off ireworks in
them, radiating warmth and sweetness. That smoky grey hue, which
Peach always found so captivating, now seemed to pull him in deeper,
making him fall even deeper under her charm.

"I'm sorry, I couldn't help it, but I promise I won't take it any further."
“Thee,” he murmured – his deep voice was full of restraint. He pulled
away slowly, almost reluctantly, as if savouring the leeting intimacy.
Because if he kept pushing his luck, he wasn't sure he could stop.
“Hungry? My treat. Let’s celebrate our irst day together,” Thee said,
standing up and extending a hand towards Peach. Peach looked at the
extended hand, a small smile playing on her lips. Though she still
wasn’t entirely sure about everything, she willingly approached.
feeling a strange sense of happiness in doing so.
"We're already celebrating the irst day," Peach asked, laughing softly to
hide the embarrassment that was clearly painted on her face. She tried
to pull his hand free, but no matter how much she touched him, he
wouldn't let go.
Instead, Thee tightened her grip and gave him a serious look, though
the corner of her lips quirked slightly.
“This is the zero anniversary, Peach. Of course it’s important.” With
that, Thee turned and pushed the door open, dragging Peach along as
if it were the most natural thing in the world. Stopping just outside,
she gave her secretary some instructions, all while still holding Peach’s
hand irmly.
"Everything is ready at the restaurant, right?" Thee asked.
“All settled, boss. Here’s the car key,” Mok replied, handing it over with
practiced ef iciency.
His lips curved into a small smile, showing a rare hint of excitement.
“Congratulations, boss. And congratulations to you too, Mr. Peach.”

"Thanks. Make sure you mark this as an important date in my calendar,

okay? Cross it off every year from now on."
Peach, who had been about to smile, turned her head to look at the
man beside her. He raised an eyebrow, as if silently asking what was so
strange about what she had just said.
Without waiting for an answer, she moved forward, her strong hand
pulling Peach along with her.
“What’s wrong with it? Mok is my secretary. He takes care of all my
schedule,” Thee’s tone was casual as she headed toward the elevator,
her grip on Peach’s hand unwavering. She even pulled Peach close to
walk side by side. “I already have him blocking out important dates
for me – birthdays, family gatherings. I'm just adding today to the
list."
Peach opened her mouth to argue, but quickly closed it, realizing it
would be too much effort to explain why that was nonsense. Instead,
she lowered her head, her cheeks burning more with each step.
Not that it mattered. The day was about to throw even more shame his
way.
The CEO’s of ice was in the middle of the building, and since the
elevator wasn’t private, it was shared with the staff. Which meant that
from the moment they left Thee’s of ice until they reached the
underground parking lot, Thee didn’t let go of her hand, not even for a
second.
Naturally, this caught the attention of every employee they passed.
Some stole furtive glances, their expressions ranging from curious to
amused. Those closest to Peach's team gave her wide-eyed looks of
disbelief or mocking smiles. Some even let out exaggerated gasps or
chuckled behind their hands.
The culminating moment of Peach's humiliation came when the
elevator stopped on the art department loor. Waiting there was Plub,

who immediately stood on her tiptoes as if she had just won the
lottery. Her mischievous smile spread from one car to the other as her
eyes darted between Thee and Peach.
“So it inally happened, huh, Brother Thee?!” Plub said smoothly, as if
he was chatting with an old friend, showing no hesitation despite the
obvious power dynamics. Thee smirked, her eyes shining with
satisfaction, clearly unfazed by his brazenness.
"Of course. And thank you for your help."
"I'll have the salmon, please!"
"You sort everything out. I've got you covered," Thee replied without
missing a beat, her voice soft and con ident. Then she turned to Peach,
her eyes shining expectantly, as if she were waiting for a compliment.
"Seriously, stop spoiling Plub like that," Peach muttered, pursing her
lips before deliberately looking away, avoiding the more mature look in
Thee's eyes. She felt like those two were starting to get along a little
too well, and she couldn't quite put her inger on why it bothered her.
"And about the Korean food last time, thanks for that, but you don't
have to buy it next time."
“Why? Wasn’t it good?” Thee raised an eyebrow, clearly puzzled, before
turning to Plub, who had already settled in as Thee’s new little sister. “I
told you, that place was too cheap. Next time, let’s try somewhere
more upmarket, or if you’re really craving authentic Korean stuff, I’ll
take you there myself.”
"We can ly together next time."
As soon as Peach heard Thee mutter about bringing a Korean chef for
the next meal, she quickly raised her hand to stop the conversation,
trying to bring everyone back to reality.

"Enough," Peach sighed, then turned to her sister. "Plub, stop stealing
other people's food so easily."
Plub stuck his tongue out at her with a mischievous grin, before
suddenly pretending to remember something. "Hey, Peach, you're
going to pack your stuff to go back to the condo today, right? Because I
have dinner plans and I'll be leaving pretty late. Do you think you'll be
okay carrying your stuff on your own?"
"I don't have that much stuff, don't worry about it," he replied, his eyes
narrowing slightly, a subtle hint of suspicion in his tone. "But wait, who
are you having dinner with? You've never mentioned anyone like that
before."
Peach knew most of her sister's friends and whenever she went out,
she always made sure to say exactly who she was with.
But this time, when he asked, Plub simply gave him a mischievous
smile and said he would tell him later when he got the chance.
The young photographer let out a long sigh and warned her to be
careful before letting her get back to work, still feeling a little
uncomfortable about the whole thing.
The two walked towards the car, but this time it wasn't the familiar
black car, it was a striking lime green sports car that stood out. Peach's
eyes widened as she stared in amazement.
"Wow, this car is amazing," he said, carefully touching the body of the
car. "It must have cost a fortune."
"You want it? I'll give it to you." Thee said immediately, his expression
serious. Then he frowned, as if he was deep in thought. "But maybe
you shouldn't settle for a second-hand one. I'll give you a new one."

“No, thank you,” Peach replied latly, already accustomed to the

constant boastful comments about wealth. Seeing Thee prepare to
offer more, Peach quickly changed the subject. “By the way, who picked
the color of the car? It really catches the eye.”
"I chose it myself. I usually like lighter colors, but for a car like this, it
has to be dark to make a statement. When I meet with clients, I need to
look intimidating."
Peach raised an eyebrow at Thee's response. He didn't quite
understand it, but he supposed it made sense coming from an
executive, not someone like him who worked to make ends meet.
Deciding not to dwell on it any further, he let it go.
Thee drove on, mentioning that they should stop by her sister's house
irst to inish picking up Peach's things. He offered to help move
everything with a cheerful attitude. Peach couldn't help but wonder if
he was just anxious for her to move faster, but seeing Thee so cheerful,
she simply gave a slight smile and didn't resist.
There wasn’t much to pack – just a few personal items he’d left at his
sister’s house. His clothes, his laptop, and some papers were all he had
to bring. The rest he’d already left at his sister’s house, as well as the
small things she’d left at his.
Mr. Thee waited downstairs, insisting that she should not go up to his
sister’s room – she was single, after all. Peach smiled, relieved that
Thee was looking after his sister, though the casual closeness between
them was now a little suspicious. Her brow twitched at the thought of
what they might have been talking about.

The tall young man took the suitcase and let Peach take the laptop out
of the car. He walked ahead, his movements so casual that the condo
staff didn't even think to ask for a name card or anything like that.
Peach let out a silent sigh. Just as he was about to follow him inside,
one of the staff members rushed over to greet him.
"Mr. Peach, why are you back so early? Everything hasn't been settled
yet."
“Fix what?” Peach raised an eyebrow, completely confused by the
comment.
“Huh? Didn’t you check the condo group chat?” the middle-aged man
said, taking out his phone to search for something, then showing the
message to Peach. “There’s construction on the main road in front.”
They accidentally damaged a major water line and are going to shut off
the water for a week to ix it. It's not inished yet."
Peach quickly pulled out her phone to check it and realized that she
had been so wrapped up in her own thoughts and work at her sister's
house that she hadn't kept up with the news from the condo. She had
also turned off noti ications, so if she didn't manually check them, she
wouldn't know.
He thanked the staff before walking back to the car with you. Suddenly
feeling a little annoyed for not checking for updates sooner.
“What’s the plan now?” Thee asked as she walked back to the car,
sounding worried.

"I guess I'll have to stay at Plub's tonight," Peach said, leaning her head
against the window with a tired sigh. "I feel bad for her. She insists on
not letting me pay for utilities, but if I go to a hotel, I'll probably get
told off."
The young ma ia man was silent for a moment, his eyes narrowed in
thought, before offering a suggestion.
"Why don't you stay at my house?"
“Huh?” Peach replied, her voice trailing off in surprise. She turned to
look at Thee, completely baf led by how her condo ended up being an
option.
"My condo is quite spacious. It has a nice desk for you to work at and
there is a guest room that is always clean because the maid takes care
of it. There is also a big TV in the room, so you can watch movies
comfortably. Don't worry about bills – I am rich and I don't have any
dif iculties."
Thee explained, listing the advantages of her location as if trying to
tempt a child with candy.
"I appreciate the offer, but I really don't want to impose," Peach
protested quietly, though her mind was already leaning toward
accepting. "I could rent a hotel or a room for a short time. It wouldn't
be too much trouble."
“Why feel guilty? We’re together, right? What’s wrong with me taking
care of my partner?” Thee said seriously, her tone as if she were
negotiating a deal with an important client.
“Besides, at my condo, you’ll have me close by. I’ll be there to keep you
company while you eat, help you with work questions, stay up late with
you… basically, I’m not just your partner, I’m also family and a friend all
rolled into one.”

Peach raised a hand to cover her face, her cheeks burning with
embarrassment, so much so that she was sure they were turning
bright red. She couldn't believe someone was literally trying to sell
themselves to him like that.
This was too much. I was so embarrassed I could barely stand it.
"If you don't like that, I'll buy you a new condo. Honestly, your place
isn't safe. How can they allow strangers to roam around like that?" Mr.
Thee said, inishing his sentence as he pulled out his phone, ready to
make a call.
"What are you doing?"
"I'm calling Mok. I'm going to ask him to send me a list of the condos
he bought and moved into today. We'll go pick one out right now.
"I'm not going to let you stay in a rental or a hotel."
“No need!” Peach quickly reached out to snatch the phone from Thee,
realizing that she was completely serious. “Okay, okay, I get it! I’ll be
staying at your condo this week.” Sorry for the inconvenience."
Thee turned to look at him, her large hand gently enveloping her
smaller one. Her ingertips traced light circles over it as she smiled a
relaxed, pleased smile.
"A pleasure."
 ATTENTION CALL #39
Your condo shouldn't even be called a condo.
It wasn’t long before the sleek luxury car pulled up in front of an ultra-
luxurious condominium right in the middle of the city. After parking the
car, Thee, ever the composed mobster, led Peach straight inside. The
lobby alone was enough to make Peach feel like she had stepped into a
ive-star hotel, with its lavish dé cor and attention to detail. As they
entered the oversized glass elevator, which offered a perfect view of a
beautifully landscaped garden below, Peach couldn’t help but gape.
Thee walked over to the elevator control panel and swiped a sleek black
card through the scanner. Instantly, the button for the highest loor lit
up. If Peach had to guess, they were probably headed to the 40th or
50th loor.
The elevator ascended at breakneck speed, and in no time they
reached their destination. Peach gulped, trying to clear her ears from
the change in pressure as she followed Thee.
What lay before him was surprising, even for a place like this: a short
hallway with only two doors, one on the left and one on the right.
Thee con idently walked to the door on the left and pressed her thumb
against a ingerprint scanner. A soft click was heard as the lock
disengaged, and the door gently swung open, as if welcoming its
owner.
"This is my place. The one on the right belongs to my brother, Rome."
Thee said. As he walked towards Peach, he suddenly stopped and
turned towards the door. He reached out and gently grabbed Peach's
wrist, pulling him closer.

Thee adjusted something on the high-tech smart lock and then lifted
Peach's hand, pressing her thumb against the scanner.
They waited a second until a green light lashed. Only then did Thee
nod in satisfaction, as if everything was just as it should be.
“What are you doing, Thee?” Peach asked with a frown, her confusion
evident. She could see what was happening, but she still felt the need
to ask. The mob boss didn’t even blink, answering in his usual deadpan
tone, as if this was the most normal thing in the world.
"Saving your ingerprint in the system. Now you can come and go
whenever you want. This is your place too."
"Do I really have to register my ingerprints? I'm only staying for a
week,"
Peach said, clearly skeptical.
"Just in case," Thee replied with a slight smile, his tone relaxed but
noncommittal. Peach wanted to shake him and ask, "just in case what
exactly?", but Thee seemed so genuinely pleased with himself that she
decided not to press the issue.
Instead, he gave a small smile to himself, inding the whole thing oddly
endearing.
Why did this mobster in front of him seem to grow more adorable with
each passing second?
Thee's entire condo loor had just two units. The place was huge,
compared to Peach's, with high ceilings, a perfectly divided layout, and
even a staircase leading to a mezzanine.
This is not a condo. This is more like a penthouse.

Peach's jaw dropped as she took it all in, looking around in stunned
silence.
I mean, sure, I knew he was rich, but does he have to be that rich?
“The guest room is downstairs. My room is upstairs,” Thee explained,
leading him inside. There was a door on the right, hidden under the
staircase, that led to a guest room. Peach’s eyes widened – this “guest
room” was almost the size of her entire apartment. But Thee frowned
as if unimpressed, her displeasure clear. She looked as if she wanted to
grab Peach and drag him out of the room immediately. “It’s a little
small,” she muttered,
"Although no one has ever used it before. The housekeeper keeps it
clean just in case. If you're feeling cramped, you can always stay
upstairs in my room with me."
“No, thanks.” Peach quickly snapped, rushing to drop her bag on the
bed before Thee could get any more ideas. Her heart was already
racing just from being in Thee’s space. Sharing a room with him? That
would de initely send her into cardiac arrest.
She tried to convince him a few more times, but Peach irmly refused
and stood her ground. There was no way she was sleeping in Thee's
room. In the end, Thee relented, though he frowned slightly, clearly
displeased but willing to let it go.
"The bathroom is over there," Thee said, pointing to a spot in the
corner of the room. Then she paused for a moment and added, looking
Peach in the eye, "There's a bathtub upstairs, you know."
"Mr. Thee, do you have any spare toothbrushes?" Peach decided, for
the umpteenth time, to ignore the constant teasing. Instead, she
moved on to something much more practical. "I left all my stuff at
Plub's. I didn't bring a single thing with me."

“Well then, let’s go shopping. We’ll pick up some personal items for you
while we’re at it.” She said matter-of-factly as she quickly pulled out
her phone to cancel tonight’s dinner reservation. For Thee, booking
another table was never a problem, but ensuring Peach’s comfort in
her condo? That was priority number one.
Peach nodded slightly and headed into his temporary room to grab a
few things. But when he came back out, he froze. The mob boss had
already taken off his suit jacket, which now hung casually over the back
of the couch. His tie was gone and the top three buttons of his shirt
were undone, revealing a glimpse of a toned chest that looked unfairly
perfect. Both sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, revealing strong
forearms where faint veins snaked along the skin.
Peach instinctively took a deep breath. Then he immediately looked
away, trying not to make his reaction obvious. His heart was beating
so loudly that he was genuinely worried that you could hear it.
Damn, Mr. Thee, with that rough and tumble demeanor, was too much
for Peach to handle.
It was strange – he had always thought Thee was handsome, of course.
But Peach had never felt anything like that before. He had never been
attracted to men in his entire life. Yet now, standing in front of this
half-Russian mob boss, he could feel his heart racing and a warmth
spreading throughout his body.
Yeah, I know you're sexy, but did you have to go and launt it like that?
"Shall we go?" Thee's deep voice brought him out of his thoughts. The
mob boss approached him, completely unaware of the internal chaos
that

had just caused. "So, does this count as a date now? I'd say it's of icially
the irst one."
“Does buying toothbrushes count as a date?” Peach laughed, her laugh
light and genuine, as she followed Thee back downstairs. The casual
vibe Thee radiated seemed to relax Peach a little. Never in her wildest
dreams did she think she would ind herself in a moment like this –
laughing and buying toiletries – with a mob boss who normally looked
so intimidating.
“If I’m with you, anywhere feels like a date,” Thee said irmly, her voice
low and steady. She glanced over quickly, noticing Peach heading out of
the condo instead of taking the elevator down to the underground
parking lot. “So, where are we going?”
“I saw a small supermarket not far from your building. It’s late, the
weather is nice… How about we walk there together?” Peach replied
in a warm senile tone, pointing at a bright pink sign visible in the
distance. She followed Peach’s gaze to the sign and nodded without a
second thought. No arguments. No objections.
“If I’m with you, I can go anywhere,” Thee repeated, this time with a
slight softness in her tone. Then, after a brief pause, she turned to
Peach with an almost comically serious expression. “So… What
exactly do I need to do to make it count as a date? Teach me.”
Didn't you say it starts with lirting? Show me how to do it.
The memory of Thee's earlier words kept repeating in Peach's mind,
making him laugh.
Without hesitation, Peach walked over, took Thee's hand, and gently
pulled him forward. "Come on, let's go. I'll show you how it's done."

"I think I deserve a fee for these lessons. So how much are you
transferring to me this time, Mr. Thee?"
"Take my credit card. And we'll have another date tomorrow."
Before Peach could process what had just happened, the mob boss
stalked into the mid-sized supermarket, clearly in an excellent mood.
Peach, on the other hand, stood frozen in place, staring at him as if she
had just lost a game she didn't even know she was playing.
Have I messed something up?
It didn’t take them more than ive minutes to reach the supermarket.
Thee walked over to the shopping carts and pulled one out with a
con idence that didn’t match his usual image. He started pushing the
cart with surprising ease, his movements smooth and practical, Peach
couldn’t help but make a comment about it. Thee just smiled, clearly
pleased with himself, and said that he used to come here with his
mother, so he was basically an expert at this.
Peach giggled and began picking out her personal items, tossing them
into the cart as she went. But when it came time to pick out shampoo
and shower gel, Thee stepped in and swapped out the travel-sized
bottles Peach had chosen for large pump bottles.
Peach tried to tell Thee that she was only going to be there for a week,
so there was no need to buy the big bottles. However, Thee, completely
calm, replied in his usual, impassive tone.
"If you're worried about wanting to use them, just stay until you're
done."
Peach pressed her lips tightly together, trying her best to keep a smile
from escaping. Her cheeks were burning, so she quickly

He turned his face away. Why did small gestures like that suddenly
seem so endearing?
"Are we going to have dinner somewhere after this?" he asked, looking
at Thee, who was casually pushing the cart behind him. Peach was sure
that he had gotten everything he needed and the shopping trip was
inally ending. "It's already dark. Do we have to go far?"
"Do you have anything in mind that you would like to eat?"
Peach shook his head. He was never picky when it came to food,
though lately Thee's habit of taking him to fancy places had him
worried that he might get too used to luxury.
He nodded slightly.
"Then let's take something simple. That way, we can get back to the
condo quickly."
"Do you have work to inish tonight? If you do, you can go back irst."
"No, I just want tomorrow to come faster."
Peach froze mid-step, her hand hovering over a packet of instant
noodles she had been eyeing for dinner. Her cheeks, which had only
just begun to cool, instantly lushed again.
Damn it! I won't make it at this rate!
The next morning, Thee woke up to the sound of her alarm. She
groaned, reaching out to turn it off before sitting up in bed, her mind
still a little foggy. Rubbing the back of her neck, she took a moment to
collect herself before heading to freshen up. After a quick

internal debate, he put on a short-sleeved shirt that had a relaxed vibe

and left the top three buttons undone, just enough to look casual but
still put together. He paired it with tight brown pants that hugged his
igure perfectly.
Once he was dressed, he headed downstairs. The night before, he had
tried every trick possible to persuade his new boyfriend to stay in the
same room as him. But Peach stubbornly held to her position, insisting
on sleeping in the guest room. In the end, Thee had to reluctantly give
in, though not without a good deal of humor.
As the mob boss made his way down the stairs, he froze mid-step. His
eyes locked on Peach, who was moving around the kitchen, clearly in
the middle of preparing breakfast. The rich aroma of freshly brewed
coffee mixed with the faint, comforting scent of butter wafting through
the air. It seemed like someone had gotten up early to make him
breakfast.
Thee brought a hand to her chest, feeling the unusually strong rhythm
of her heartbeat. He had always been possessive, whether it was with
things, places, or even his condo. No one, aside from his family, had
ever been allowed in. But seeing the thin man move around made the
space ill him with an unexpected warmth. It tugged at his heart, and
before he knew it, a small smile appeared on his face.
Along with the warmth came an unfamiliar feeling of protection, one
that made him feel like he had something precious to call his own. The
thought calmed him, steadying his heart in a way he couldn't explain.
"Are you awake?" Peach turned to greet him with a smile and set a cup
of coffee on the table. "I hope you don't mind. In a way, I served your
cooking myself."

Peach looked different that morning, almost effortlessly charming. He

wore a simple v-neck t-shirt that gave off a relaxed vibe, paired with
tight black jeans that somehow made him look even skinnier. His
slightly grown out hair was messily pulled back to keep it from falling
in his face as he cooked.
…Adorable.
“No need to ask. Feel free to wear whatever you like,” Thee said,
clearing her throat to hide her smile. She walked over to the table,
where a simple, but well-served breakfast awaited her – toast, ham,
bacon, sausages, fried eggs, and two cups of coffee. The presentation
was so good that it made her frown in curiosity. “Do you know how to
cook?”
“Does frying eggs and bacon really count as cooking?” Peach laughed
and handed him a knife and fork. “This is all I can get –
"survival food for when I'm too lazy to leave the room."
Thee nodded, accepting the explanation as she began spreading butter
on a perfectly browned slice of toast.
"So where should we go today?"
"Where do you want to go, Mr. Thee?"
"On a date"
Thee's quick response made Peach freeze for a second, her cheeks
blushing slightly before she stammered out a protest. "I meant a place,
Mr. Thee. Where do you want to go?"
The mob boss paused, recalling the exhaustive research he had done
the night before. After working late to clear his schedule for today, he
spent hours reading up on ideal locations

for a date. I had no prior experience in this ield; I had never taken
anyone on a date before. But I wanted this to be perfect, something
that would leave a lasting impression.
Thee, armed with the con idence of his hours of research on “how to
plan a date,” declared without hesitation: “An amusement park.”
Peach raised an eyebrow, her expression full of curiosity.
"Do you want to go to an amusement park? I didn't know you liked
that."
His hesitation, with a hint of doubt, made Thee’s con idence waver. His
thick eyebrows furrowed in concern. Hadn’t she done enough
preparation? The article she’d read the night before said that
amusement parks were a classic date destination, right? Even TV
shows showed it as a must-do.
"Or… an aquarium?"
This time, the young photographer frowned, his face showing a
strange mix of understanding and exasperation. He let out a long sigh,
which only increased Thee's uneasiness.
"What do you think a date is?"
Peach asked softly, her tone mixed with amusement and warmth. The
kindness in her gaze eased Thee's anxiety, loosening the tension in her
chest.
"To me, a date is about spending the day together to get to know each
other better, to see new sides of the person you're with," Peach began,
not waiting for an answer. Her voice was calm and sincere, each word
laden with thought. "It's a way for two people to understand each
other better and gain perspective on each other. That's why the word
'date' shouldn't be used."

"Have no set rules about what to do or where to go. It should be a

mutual decision, something that re lects what you both enjoy or
dislike. It's not about forcing yourself to follow what others do or what
you think a date should be."
Thee looked down, processing Peach's words. His eyebrows furrowed
even more as if he was lost in thought.
"So where do you want to go?"
“How about we pick a place we both enjoy? To be honest…” he
hesitated, looking a little uncomfortable. “I don’t like places with
scorching sun or big crowds. Amusement parks and aquariums are
de initely not my thing.”
"Me neither," he nodded, relieved to ind common ground. He wasn't a
fan of such places either.
"So what do you usually do on your days off?"
Thee's gaze lowered again, her frown deepening as she thought hard.
After a pause, she replied, though her voice held a hint of uncertainty.
"...Probably watching movies."
“I thought so,” Peach chuckled, clearly not surprised by the answer, her
laugh warm and contagious. “I love watching movies too! How about
we go to the cinema? This movie came out now and it looks so good!”
She slid her phone across the table, displaying a movie poster. It wasn't
a light romantic comedy or an easy-to-digest big-budget ilm, but a
serious drama, full of life philosophy, with an intense and intriguing
plot. Thee looked at the poster, slightly confused. Wasn't a date
supposed to involve watching a romantic movie? But before she could
ask the question, she noticed the excited glint in Peach's eyes. The way
she lit up just talking about it, her excitement

bubbling around the edges, making Thee's doubt disappear instantly.

Instead of asking, Thee's lips curved into a light smile.
If this was what Peach wanted to do, if this movie was something she
was truly looking forward to, then Thee would gladly go. Wherever
Peach wanted to go, he would be there.
"Sure. Let's go watch the movie." She replied, her mind already
mapping out the rest of the day to make this date as perfect as
possible. The countless articles and late-night research on how to plan
the perfect date hadn't been in vain.
…And wasn’t a date supposed to end with a kiss?

ATTENTION CALL #40

Peach drove the young mobster to an upmarket mall in the heart of the
city. It wasn't far from Thee's condo and, thanks to it being a Saturday,
the trip was smooth and surprisingly low on traf ic for such a busy
area.
However, since it was Saturday, the mall was packed with people.
Mr. Thee had insisted that a date meant spending time together just
the two of them, steadfastly refusing to allow his bodyguards to follow
them closely. In the end, Peach still noticed them discreetly
approaching in the distance, but she was relieved that they weren’t
drawing attention to themselves or interfering. Among the bustling
crowd, no one was parting ways with Mr. Thee like they normally
would. Peach was worried that the mob boss might get irritated, either
from a lack of personal space or, worse, accidentally starting a ight
with someone. To avoid any potential drama, she instinctively grabbed
Thee’s hand and held it tightly.
When she glanced back, she found Mr. Thee in an unusually good
mood. Sure, Thee wasn’t exactly the type of person who smiled often,
but Peach had spent enough time with him to notice the subtle
changes in his expressions. The relaxed, easy-going vibe he was giving
off now couldn’t be clearer.
But why was he so happy?
Peach didn't ask. In the end, it didn't matter as long as Mr. Thee wasn't
upset. Instead, he pulled Thee through the crowd, and to his surprise,
Thee tightened her grip on his hand, following him without a single
complaint.
TRANSLATION: Fx|Sx

Peach had already suggested going to a less crowded movie theater or

even booking a VIP room, worried that being surrounded by so many
people might upset Mr. Thee. But Thee had latly refused, telling him
that she wanted to see what her everyday life was like. Mr. Thee
wanted to be a part of that without making things any harder for
Peach.
Peach accompanied Mr. Thee to the escalator that went up to the
cinema level. When they reached the ticket counter, Thee, who had
been silently cooperating throughout the ride, inally spoke up.
"Do we really have to choose our seats?"
He frowned at the screen, looking genuinely puzzled.
A small smile appeared on Peach’s lips. She remembered that Thee had
casually mentioned that morning that she hadn’t been to the movies in
a long time. Judging by her confusion, it really must have been years.
“Yeah, after you pick your show time, you have to pick your seats,”
Peach explained, crossing her arms as she hesitated over which ones
to select. “I like sitting in higher positions, but, well… those seats are
usually a lot more expensive.”
“What’s so good about them?” Mr. Thee asked, arms crossed. His brow
furrowed in what seemed like serious analysis. His tone and
expression were so serious that Peach couldn’t help but smile a little.
"They're higher up, so you get a better view. But if the theater isn't that
big, it doesn't really make much of a difference. These ones here are
ine too," Peach said, pointing to a row a couple levels down. "Oh, and
the top row has these couch-style seats for couples.
Downstairs there's just single seats. Normally, I'm ine with singles,
since I usually go to the movies alone."

Thee reached above him, selecting the couples seats without

hesitation. The move surprised him, not just because Thee chose
those seats, but because the tall man came so close, his broad body
practically surrounding him as he tapped the screen. Though it only
lasted a few seconds, the proximity was enough for Peach to feel the
slight heat radiating off of Thee, leaving him momentarily breathless.
Too close. Too close.
Peach instinctively pressed a hand to her chest, trying to calm her
racing heart. She pretended to focus on the screen, tapping it as if she
were checking her selections. Still, her lushed cheeks and ears gave it
away. You didn’t say anything, but your gaze landed on
Peach’s lushed face, pausing for a moment before a subtle smile
appeared on your lips.
When the transaction screen appeared, Thee handed over her sleek
black credit card without a second thought. Peach glanced at the card
out of the corner of her eye and couldn't help but roll her eyes, though
she took it without protest. Once she swiped the card and handed it
back, Thee didn't take it.
Instead, he grabbed Peach's hand in his own, the other casually stuffed
into his pocket, as he looked at the card with an almost contemptuous
expression.
"You can take this back now."
"You're still going to be paying all day. Just keep it with you."
Peach almost protested, but Thee simply took him by the hand and led
him forward. He had no choice but to follow, silently accepting it.
They headed to the counter to grab a soda, but didn't bother with the
popcorn. Thee wasn't a fan of snacking during movies, and as for
Peach, he usually got so caught up in the

a ilm that he barely remembered to do. One gulp was enough to keep
his throat from drying out.
The young photographer led them to their seats in the theater – a pair
of plush, gold velvet sofas. Peach sat down irst, but paused for a
second as Thee sat down beside her. Thee, with her foreign heritage,
was naturally larger and broader than the average person, and as she
sat down, her body brushed against Peach’s a little.
Peach tensed, feeling embarrassed, as if it was her irst time having a
boyfriend. She didn't quite understand why she felt this way. On the
contrary, Thee seemed completely calm. He reached out his arm,
gently pulling Peach to lean against his solid chest without a trace of
awkwardness.
“The chair isn’t bad,” Thee murmured, but as she did so, Peach’s hand
accidentally brushed against Thee’s leg. She heard a low, husky laugh
from Thee, the sound vibrating through the chest Peach was leaning
against. Thee didn’t stop there – she gently rubbed Peach’s shoulder as
if comforting him.
Peach bit his lip, embarrassed to the point that his cheeks felt red. But
the warmth of Thee's chest was comforting and the feeling of being
held protectively made him feel safe. So he relaxed, letting his head
rest more comfortably against Thee's tall igure.
They were together now. The person beside him was his, and at that
moment, Peach couldn't feel more at ease. There wasn't a single
reason to reject this. But he joked to himself that if anyone found out,
they might tease him, saying, "You've gone soft!"
Peach focused on the movie, not letting himself be distracted by Thee
at his side. He was completely involved in the plot, aware only of the
warm hand

who was gently rubbing her shoulder. The movie lasted just over two
hours, but the story was so engaging that Peach didn't feel the time
passing at all.
As the inal credits rolled, he waited until the last one appeared on the
screen, paying his respects to the ilmmakers. At the same time, he
stretched his arms, loosening the muscles that had tensed up
throughout the ilm. Then he turned to Thee, who had been his
support for the past two hours, and asked with a worried expression,
"Are you in pain, Mr. Thee? I'm sorry, I got so caught up in the movie
that I didn't notice."
"No, right?" He shook his head slowly, then reached out to gently
massage the back of Peach's neck, pressing lightly as if to help him
relax.
“No, I’m ine. Actually, it’s really comfortable and warm too,” Peach
smiled softly, letting them continue massaging him with a relaxed
attitude. Thee paused for a moment, seemingly lost in thought, and
Peach thought she heard him mutter something under his breath, but
she didn’t press him.
“It was great. I really like this director. The plot was really fun, but
towards the end, I felt a little confused,” Peach said seriously, analyzing
the movie for Thee with a focused expression, showing how much she
had paid attention. Thee nodded and then began to share her own
thoughts on the movie. They ended up discussing the movie from
different perspectives, and it was unexpectedly nice to exchange their
opinions. When did watching a movie with someone else feel so good?
"So where are we going now?" Thee stood up and then held out his
hand for Peach to take, gently pulling him to his feet. "Do you have

hungry? It's already noon. You have to eat on time because you have
gastritis,
TRUE?"
Peach blinked, feeling a warmth spread through her chest that she
couldn’t quite explain. He was sure he’d never told you about his
gastritis. Thee must have found out some other way, but the fact that
he asked, that he cared, made Peach feel so good that her heart
warmed.
It wasn't just a nice feeling: Peach was now sure that she really liked
this mobster in front of her.
"Yeah, let's grab something to eat." Peach said, squeezing Thee's hand
tighter before standing beside her. "This time, you get to pick the
restaurant.
You usually take me to places I like, so I want to try something you like
for a change."
She then turned to look at him, her bushy eyebrows arched in surprise,
but the smile and the sparkle in her eyes showed how happy she was.
Peach couldn't help but smile back with a wide grin.
This time, it was Thee who led the way. The only thing that hadn't
changed, however, was the hand that was still irmly entwined
between them, not letting go since they left the room.
The tall, mixed-race boy slowed his pace to match Peach's, and it
wasn't long before they stopped in front of a famous Italian restaurant.
Peach had never eaten there, though she had heard the name before. It
was an exclusive place, the kind of restaurant she never thought to
enter, even with its Michelin star.
Peach's jaw dropped. She almost wanted to ask if a place like this
would allow someone in a t-shirt and jeans in, but Thee opened the
door with a calm, con ident air and motioned for Peach to follow him
inside.

"It's a franchise, no dress code required," Thee said, looking at Peach

with a mischievous glint in her smoky eyes, as if she were holding back
a laugh.
Peach grimaced, feeling a little annoyed, but Thee just smiled slightly
and continued to push him inside.
The mobster led him to a VIP room with large windows overlooking a
fountain outside the mall. Peach looked around, intrigued for a
moment, before turning his attention back to the menu on the table.
Peach liked Italian food, but he didn't eat it often. And in a fancy
restaurant where the menu included a foreign-sounding dinner, he was
completely lost, not even sure how the dishes differed from each other.
After a moment of indecision, he looked at Thee, who was lipping
through the menu with ease, looking completely relaxed. Unable to
resist, he asked Peach.
"Do you come here often?"
"Quite a bit. I like European food, and this place does it well. The
lavors are very balanced."
"So, can you choose for me?" Peach smiled shyly, quickly closed her
menu, and admitted without hesitation, "I don't eat much Italian food,
so I'm pretty confused by all of this. I don't even know what's what. Can
you recommend anything to me?"
"How about we go somewhere else?" Thee frowned, immediately
closing his menu with a snap, but Peach quickly grabbed his arm.

"No, it's okay. You've already been very kind to me, Mr. Thee. This time,
I want to try something you like," Peach shook her head and smiled
dryly.
"But the menu is very complicated. I've never ordered here before. I'm
too embarrassed to ask the staff. Can you choose for me?"
Thee smiled softly, her eyes shining with affection. She didn't seem at
all bothered that Peach didn't understand the complicated menu and
was happy to help. "What do you want to eat? I can suggest
something."
"I'll take whatever you want." Peach smiled widely, "I want to be a part
of your life too. Mr. Thee."
The tall man bit his lip, his eyes lighting up, and Peach found herself
staring at him without realizing it. It wasn't until Thee reached out to
gently pinch his ear that she snapped back to reality, her face lushed.
"Can't you be so cute, Peach? I'm holding back here."
Peach's eyes widened. She bit her lip to hold back a smile, but her
cheeks were already burning. She quickly hid behind her menu,
pretending to read it again, though she still had no idea what it said.
Why does admitting that I like him make me feel even more ashamed?
Thee simply laughed softly, not forcing it any further. She then turned
to call the waiter to take her order. The man ordered a few dishes with
long, dif icult to pronounce names before closing the menu and
handing it back to her.
Peach looked at Thee across the table. The man was tall, his hair was
normally neatly combed, but today he was a little more relaxed,

which made him look younger. His smoky eyes, the ones Peach loved to
look into, sparkled as they stared back at her.
"I have a question," Peach decided to break the silence. The
atmosphere between them was too quiet and it made him feel
strangely nervous, his heart racing in a strange way. It wasn't easy to
sit here, staring at each other like this.
"It's okay, ask whatever you want."
“What kind of coffee do you like?” Peach started with an easy question.
Thee raised an eyebrow, looking confused, so Peach quickly added,
“You know a lot about me. That time Plub came, I’m sure you heard a
lot about me to make you two seem like siblings. It doesn’t seem fair to
me.”
He frowned seriously, his forehead wrinkled, but Thee laughed softly,
amused. Peach couldn't help but protest.
“I mean it, Thee,” he whined, feeling the need to punch the guy in front
of him. He didn’t have the resources to send someone to investigate
like Thee. “I want to get to know you better. I want to know about you. I
want to know more about you.”
Thee's eyes sparkled, clearly pleased, and a wide smile spread across
her face.
"Espresso," he replied bluntly, not missing a beat. Peach, snapping to
attention, remembered his original question.
"You're ine. I think it's too bitter. I can only handle it if it has an
American tone," Peach said, grimacing at the memory of the bitterness
of a small shot of espresso. "What about your favorite food?"

"Italian food." Thee quickly answered, staring at him instead of asking

the next question. Peach smiled widely, con ident in her answer.
"Japanese food".
The two continued to ask and answer questions of that sort for a while,
until the meal came to an end. Peach couldn't help but smile as she
discovered that Thee liked everything, from cheese to almost any kind
of dairy product. Mr. Thee had chosen a cheese-laden dish, but only
one on the menu; the dishes were things that Peach would probably
like. As they began to eat, Peach realized that she liked everything a lot
more than she expected. Mr.
Thee always seemed to pay attention to the smallest details.
“So, where are we going now?” Thee asked after handing the waiter her
fancy gold-edged credit card. Peach wanted to ask how many cards like
that he had, but then thought better of it. She was afraid that if she
found out, she would pass out from shock before she could answer.
"I want to show you more about myself," Peach said with a smile,
deciding without hesitation to invite you into her personal space.
"Would you like to come with me?"
"If it's with you, I'll go anywhere."
Peach, pleased with the answer, smiled widely, his cheeks tinged with a
slight blush. He then invited Thee to accompany him to do some
shopping. Thee readily agreed and followed him without any
resistance.
Peach collected several items – snacks, textbooks, some reading books,
and general supplies. However, the amount was quite a lot and Thee
raised an eyebrow in curiosity. Without saying a word, she handed
over her card.

credit as if to say that if that's something Peach wanted, she'd be

happy to pay for it.
They loaded everything into the car and drove as the photographer
directed.
After taking a winding route to the outskirts, right on the edge of the
suburbs, the luxury car inally passed in front of a rectangular building.
Peach opened the car door, got out, and casually greeted a woman
standing in front of the building. After a quick hug and exchange of a
few words, Thee followed him inside.
"Mr. Thee, this is Miss Nualphong. She is the caretaker of the
orphanage," Peach said.
She paused for a moment, her eyebrows raised in silent question.
Peach nodded with a smile and explained further, "This is the
orphanage where Plub and I grew up."

ATTENTION CALL #41

Peach led the way into the modest three-story building, surrounded by
a playground with a few worn play structures. It was early afternoon,
and a group of older children ran around outside, while the younger
ones were still asleep inside.
After handing out snacks to the children, Peach handed some other
supplies to teacher Nualphong. They exchanged a few warm words
before he excused himself and walked back to Thee, who was waiting
on the other side of the playground.
Well, “wait” wasn’t exactly the right thing to do. The stern-faced mob
heir was busy handing out treats, though his serious expression and
lack of a smile seemed to intimidate most of the kids. They stood
around awkwardly, hesitating to come closer until a brave older boy
stepped up, bowed politely, and accepted the treat with a grateful
“Thank you.” Only then did the others muster the courage to inish.
Honestly, as far as Peach was concerned, the fact that she didn't make
anyone cry was already a victory.
Smiling to himself, Peach joined in to help distribute the rest of the
snacks. With him there, the kids became more daring and soon, the
treats were gone in no time – luckily, they had packed enough to save
some for the little ones still napping.
"Want to take a look?" Peach asked, noticing how Thee's eyes kept
scanning the garden as if she was trying to memorize every corner.

Thee nodded without hesitation, so Peach led the way, pointing out
different places while sharing stories from her childhood.
Turns out he and Plub had quite the mischievous streak growing up.
"That one over there was Plub's favorite hiding spot," Peach said,
pointing to a large rectangular storage cabinet with a circular cutout in
the middle.
"Whenever she got angry or in a bad mood, she would hide there, or if
someone came to
'visit' her.
"Visit?" Thee repeated, frowning slightly. She couldn't quite
understand what kind of "visitors" an orphanage would have.
“They are people looking to adopt. They irst visit the center to see if
they connect with any of the children. After meeting a few times, if the
child agrees, they ill out the paperwork and take the child home as
their legal child.” Peach explained casually. He shrugged, not knowing
much beyond the basics since he had never been adopted. “It used to
drive me crazy every time someone came through here.”
"Because?"
Peach pressed her lips together and lowered her eyes to the ground as
they walked. Still, she continued to speak, her voice irm despite the
memories. “Maybe because I felt confused… and like a really bad
child.”
Thee followed silently, resisting the temptation to press for more. They
had learned that Peach would share when he was ready.
They walked past the building to the open courtyard at the back, a
quiet and peaceful space surrounded by a small garden with
vegetables and fruit trees. The breeze carried the fresh scent of
greenery.

"A part of me wanted Plub to be adopted," Peach admitted, clasping her

hands behind her back and taking a deep breath. "I wanted him to have
real parents, a better life, things I could never give him." She paused,
her gaze distant.
"But another part of me... I didn't want her to go. Plub is the only family
I have. If she left, I wouldn't have anyone."
"They could have adopted both of them," Thee suggested.
"People usually want to have younger children." Peach shook her head
with a slight smile. "I came here when I was already quite old."
– almost a teenager. Older children are seen as trouble waiting to
happen. The little ones… are just easier to love."
Thee frowned, but remained silent. Peach's tone wasn't sad, if
anything, there was a trace of amusement in it, as if she was
remembering something long past that no longer hurt her.
“Still, Plub was also afraid of being adopted. She would run away and
hide all the time,” Peach laughed softly at the memory. “She was so
attached to me back then. Sometimes she would fall asleep while
hiding. And they would look for her everywhere, panicking.”
Then I would run in and ind her sleeping like she didn't have a care in
the world."
Thee looked down, taking notice of the person beside her, noticing the
slight smile that still lingered on Peach's lips.
Gently, he placed a large hand on Peach's head and gave it a light,
comforting pat.
"You did well."

Peach walked into the house he gave her with great con idence,
trusting that the man standing in front of him wouldn't care about
what he was about to say.
"But the truth is that back then I wanted to be adopted too.
"I wanted to leave with Plub... start a better life somewhere." Peach
admitted, her smile softening as a trace of uncertainty lickered in her
eyes. She had no idea if the other party would agree to this.
"So... when I'm in a good place in my life, when I'm stable... I want to
adopt a child someday."
Peach lowered her head, biting her lower lip, glancing at Mr. Thee’s
expressionless face.
Seeing no signs of rejection, she continued. “I know I can’t help every
child out there.
Adoption isn’t just about throwing money at a problem. I want to raise
a child as my own: love them, help them grow up happy and strong.”
Her hands clenched slightly. “Even if it’s just one or two children… I
want to give them a chance. Make the dream I couldn’t have back then
come true.”
He had carried this hope for a long time. If Mr. Thee really intended to
stay with him – if they were going to build a future together – it was
something he needed him to accept.
But then, Thee’s face hardened, his brows furrowed deeply, a wave of
discontent coming out of him, making the air feel thick and heavy.
Peach’s heart plummeted. Honestly, he had expected Thee to accept
him, never preparing himself for a rejection like this.
Her lips pressed into a line as uneasiness twisted in her chest. Still,
once Peach made up her mind, she wasn't one to back down easily.

Okay, he told himself irmly. If Mr. Thee didn't want to be a part of this,
then he would adopt the child on his own. He would manage somehow
– even if it meant shouldering the responsibility alone.
.
Peach took a deep breath, thinking she should say something, but Theo
spoke irst, his expression clouded with worry.
"Kids don't usually like me," Thee muttered, crossing her arms and
frowning deeply. Worry lashed in her eyes. "What if... my son doesn't
accept me?"
Peach blinked, stunned, before bursting into laughter.
He hadn't even adopted anyone yet and Thee already called them his
son.
"Calm down, Mr. Thee," Peach laughed, shaking her head. "You haven't
adopted anyone yet."
“But if you do, they will be our children,” Thee insisted, still looking
very serious. “I need to think about this. If they only love you and are
afraid of me, that would not be good.” His frown deepened. “The
Arseny family business doesn’t run any schools yet… I’ll need Mok to
start looking into investing in education.”
Peach laughed again, letting Thee go into her exaggerated planning
mode for a moment. Then she reached out, her smaller hands gently
enveloping Thee’s larger ones. Her heart swelled with so much warmth
that she couldn’t contain it any longer.
“Mr. Thee, thank you,” Peach whispered sincerely, squeezing his hands
tightly. Her soft smile shone with genuine affection, her big, earnest
eyes locked with Thee’s. “Thank you for everything you’ve done for
me!”

Thee's tense expression instantly melted, his gaze softening as he

leaned in, close enough for Peach to feel the comforting warmth
radiating from him.
"I'm willing to give you anything. Whatever you want. Whatever you
need.
Just tell me.” Her voice turned soft, almost reverent. “I’m… really
happy to have met you, my little one.” She reached out, her ingers
brushing Peach’s cheek with a feather-light touch. But before she could
pull back, Peach leaned her head into Thee’s palm, caressing it with
such innocent affection that Thee froze, completely off guard.
"I like you."
Thee's eyes widened in shock as Peach snuggled into her hand again,
with such natural affection that she didn't even seem aware of how
much she was making Thee's heart race.
"I really like you, Mr. Thee... so much. What should I do about it?"
Thee's face lit up with a rare, wide smile that crinkled the corners of
her sharp eyes, illing the space around her with warmth and joy.
Without a word, she opened her arms and hugged the smaller man
tightly, holding him close to her chest.
“Don’t be any cuter, Peach. I already love you so much it hurts.” He
buried his face in the soft dark hair resting on his chest before gently
resting his chin on Peach’s head. After a brief pause, his voice became
softer. “Can I ask you something? Would you call me Kian?”

Peach stood still, repeating the name in her head. Thee's full name was
Theerakit Kian Arseny, but everyone just called him Thee. She had
never heard anyone use his middle name before.
Sensing Peach's thoughts, he tightened his grip a little, making sure
she couldn't lift her head to see the slight blush creeping up their cars.
"I'm a little possessive," he admitted then, lightly rubbing his cheek
against Peach's hair, savoring the tenderness that illed his chest.
"Only my family has ever called me that... and now we are
family too. Calling me Thee feels too distant. I don't like
it."
Peach’s lips curved into a smile against Thee’s chest, her heart beating
so fast she thought it would burst. She wanted to hide her blushing
face, but she took a deep breath to steady herself. Slowly, she pulled
away from the warm embrace and lifted her face, meeting those
intense, smoky grey eyes she had adored from the very beginning.
"Kian. Peach loves you."
Thee froze, completely still like a statue whose batteries have run out.
Her sharp eyes slowly opened and a deep blush spread from the tips of
her arms to her cheeks. For a long moment, she didn't move – then,
inally, her lips curved into a wide, radiant smile that shone all the way
to her bright eyes, like stars twinkling in the night.
"I don't think I can wait until the end of our date," he murmured,
leaning in until their noses brushed, so close they shared the same
breath. His voice softened into a soft plea.
"Can I kiss you?"

Peach pressed her lips together, her face burning so iercely that she
thought she might cry. However, she eventually managed a small,
shaky nod.
Thee murmured a soft, "Good boy," before leaning down and gently
brushing her lips over Peach's. She started with light, leeting kisses,
slow and tender, teasing the waters. Then, her lips tugged playfully at
Peach's bottom lip, silently asking for permission.
When Peach's mouth inally opened, Thee slid her tongue in, their tips
brushing, causing an electric shock that turned the once innocent kiss
into something deeper, more intense.
One of Thee’s hands cupped the nape of Peach’s neck, anchoring him in
place as their mouths moved in sync, exploring, tasting. He paused
long enough for Peach to take a quick breath before he dove back in,
pressing their lips together again and again, as if trying to commit the
sweet taste to memory forever. Peach’s ists weakly slammed into
Thee’s shoulder a few times, forcing the taller man to inally pull away,
though he did so with obvious reluctance. He couldn’t resist capturing
Peach’s swollen bottom lip one last time between his teeth before
releasing it.
Breathing heavily, Thee admired the sight before him – Peach’s lushed
cheeks, her cloudy, half-lidded eyes still dazed from the kiss. She
looked completely irresistible without even realizing it.
He swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing, ighting for control.
Unable to resist, he gently placed Peach's head against his chest,
moving it out of sight.
The mere thought of someone else seeing Peach like this ignited a
possessive lame within him. He didn't want to share even a glimpse of
that soft, vulnerable side with the world.
Peach, meanwhile, focused on steadying her breathing, forcing the
heat on her face to subside. Once she felt somewhat calm,
He cautiously pulled away from Thee's embrace, his gaze averted in
embarrassment. He cleared his throat awkwardly, desperate to change
the subject.
"Actually... there are two kids I talk to sometimes when I come over.
They're siblings – an older brother and a little sister. They remind me a
bit of Plub and I when we lived here." She gave Thee's hand a little tug,
urging him forward. "Do you want to... meet them?"
“Don’t you call yourself ‘Peach’ like before?” Thee asked casually as she
followed him, though her words were off topic. “I thought it was kind of
cute.”
"Kian!" Peach snapped, turning to face him. Her wide eyes sought to
intimidate, but failed completely thanks to her puffy cheeks, tinted
with a pink blush that made him look anything but menacing.
Thee chuckled, but didn't press further, letting the subject drop.
They continued walking together as the sun sank towards the horizon,
casting long, warm shadows. They returned to the school building and
climbed up to the second loor.
Peach entered one of the classrooms before waving to someone inside,
motioning for them to come out. Moments later, the door creaked
open and a boy stepped out. He was small, barely reaching Peach's
waist, and had a solemn face that was far too mature for his age,
devoid of the usual childlike spark.
Well, almost. The boy’s serious expression softened the moment he
raised his gaze to Peach. His large, beady eyes lit up like stars, and a
faint smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, making him look like
the child he was supposed to be.

"Mhok, this is Thee, and Thee, this is Mok." He knelt down to be at eye
level with the boy, his tone gentle.
Mhok stared languidly at the unknown man before him. His hesitant
smile faded, replaced by polite reserve. With practiced manners, he
placed his palms together in a respectful salute before quickly turning
to Peach, his small ingers tightly gripping her sleeve.
"You haven't been here in so long." Mhok murmured, eyes downcast.
Peach's face softened into a wide, affectionate smile as she opened her
arms invitingly. Mhok hesitated for only a second, before launching
herself into the familiar embrace, her small body melting into Peach's
chest.
"I'm sorry." Peach murmured, gently rocking them back and forth as
her hand gently stroked Mok's hair. "I got caught up in some things, but
I'm here now." After a moment, she asked. "Where's Marn? I haven't
seen her yet."
"Marn is sleeping in that room." Mhok pointed to a nearby door before
turning to Thee, his small eyebrows furrowed in suspicion. There was
no trace of fear in his gaze, only open curiosity.
"Who is that guy? Why is he with you?"
"I'm Peach's boyfriend." He declared proudly, puf ing out his chest as if
he had just won a grand prize. Peach could only groan inwardly,
covering her face with both hands in sheer embarrassment, feeling
equal parts shy and exasperated.
“What is a boyfriend?” Mhok continued. His expression became more
serious, genuinely puzzled.

"A boyfriend is someone who loves, cares for, and protects the person
he loves.
They remain by each other's side until the end of their lives. Peach and
I love each other, so we are boyfriend and girlfriend."
"So, you protect Peach?" Mhok's eyes lit up as if he had just unlocked a
new goal in life. "Well, I want to protect Peach too! And Marn! If I do
that, does that make me Peach's boyfriend too?"
“No. She can only have one boyfriend.” Thee’s face didn’t even move as
she shook her head solemnly. “But you can be our son.”
You'd be Marn's big brother. Families look out for each other too."
Mhok considered this deeply, his little face scrunched up in
concentration before he nodded irmly as if accepting a lifelong
mission. Meanwhile, Peach was wheezing with laughter, half-groaning
from sheer laughter.
The two were absurdly similar.
Both Thee and Mhok turned to Peach, who was still kneeling on the
ground, laughing so hard she almost fell over. Although neither of them
quite understood what was so funny, seeing Peach so happy made
them smile as well.
Whatever lay ahead, it seemed like there was nothing to worry about.
………………..
Peach chatted a little more with the boy, deciding not to wake the little
one who had already fallen asleep. Soon after, they said goodbye. Mr.
Thee, who had suddenly become so close to the boy, looked at him
with a

confused expression, then leaned in to whisper something in her ear.

They talked for a while, planning something, before inally heading
back to the car. When Peach asked her about what they had been
talking about, Thee simply gave her a slight smile, not offering any
explanation.
Peach sighed, letting go, and allowed Thee to lead them back to the
condo without further pressure.
On the way, the mob boss boasted that he would make dinner that
night and promised something special. They didn't bother to stop to
pick up anything else and headed straight home.
But the moment the door of the condominium opened, a stunning
woman was sitting casually on the large, luxurious sofa in the middle
of the elegant living room.
She was strikingly beautiful, with sharp, piercing eyes that brought an
air of cool con idence to her sculpted features. Her jet-black hair was
pulled back into a sleek ponytail, with the long locks falling down her
back. She wore a itted suit paired with tailored trousers that
accentuated her slim, elegant igure, while exuding an effortless
appeal.
As soon as she saw them, she gracefully stood up and walked towards
them with determination. Her long, slender ingers reached out to
caress Thee's face, her lips curved into a slight, suggestive smile.
"Kian, what took you so long? I've been waiting for like forever."

ATTENTION CALL #42

Thee's eyes widened in shock, but she didn't pull away. Instead, she
leaned down and gently enveloped the elegant woman in a careful hug.
"Mom? How did you get here?"
"Rome told me you had a surprise planned," she replied softly.
“So I got on the next light.” Then her sharp gaze shifted to Peach, who
was awkwardly standing a few steps behind. “Is that the surprise I was
talking about?” she asked, her tone icy yet curious.
Peach linched as her piercing eyes locked on him. He had been lost in
thought for a moment and now he was quick to react. Hastily, he
clasped his hands together in a respectful Thai greeting.
"Good evening, ma'am. I'm Peach." She paused, looking at Thee, who
was staring back expectantly, practically beaming with anticipation.
Peach took a deep breath and forced a polite smile before turning to
the intimidating woman. "...I'm Thee's boyfriend."
The moment those words left his mouth, Thee's face lit up like he'd
just won the lottery, his smirk almost smug. Peach barely resisted the
urge to roll his eyes and instead refocused on the woman in front of
him, studying her with a bit of curiosity and caution.
At irst he had been stunned, his heart practically dropping into his
stomach when she appeared, but hearing Thee call her "Mama" had
been a strange relief. Now, with a clearer mind, he could inally take in
her features.

Thee's mother was incredibly beautiful, her ierce and commanding

eyes perfectly matching her son's. But beyond her striking looks and
formidable presence, something about her seemed strangely familiar.
Peach stared at him, her brow furrowed in thought, until she suddenly
realized.
If it's not a mistake...
"Are you Mrs. Nat?"
As soon as he asked the question, the woman in front of him froze for a
fraction of a second before turning fully towards him. Her sharp gaze
was still intimidating, but the slight curve of her lips into a faint smile
told him that he had recognized the right person.
Natlada – or Nat – was a renowned actress often typecast as the
eternal villain, and a model with such raw sex appeal that
photographers practically worshipped her. There was a time when she
was more famous than leading men and actresses combined. Known
for her electrifying performances as ierce and cunning villains, she
possessed a charm that made it impossible for viewers to look away.
But right at the peak of her career, when her star was shining brightest,
Nat abruptly left the industry to marry a man outside the spotlight.
And it turned out that her husband was not only out of show business,
but also living out of the country.
“My goodness, I didn’t think anyone would still recognize me,” she said,
coming closer, her piercing eyes studying him intently. But Peach
barely noticed the scrutiny. Her own eyes widened with excitement,
shining with admiration as she found herself facing her idol.

For any photographer, a model like Nat was practically a dream come
true. No matter the angle, she looked stunning in every shot.
"Of course I remember her! She is an absolutely stunning model, Ms.
Nat. She looks amazing from every angle and could bring out the mood
and energy of any shoot. I've seen a lot of her work. I'm a huge fan,"
Peach said, with a wide smile full of enthusiasm.
Nat paused for a moment, bewildered, before breaking into a wide
smile that lit up her face and softened her once intimidating aura. Her
sharp edges melted away in an instant. The next thing Peach knew, her
graceful arm had wrapped around his shoulder and she leaned into
him in a warm, affectionate gesture.
“How adorable. How did you end up hooking up with Kian, of all
people?” Her perfectly manicured ingers playfully brushed against his
cheek. It was then that he realized something else about her: Nat was
tall. So tall that she was almost the same height as him, a grown man.
"And where were you two going, coming back so late?"
“I took him on a date. We were planning to have dinner at the
apartment.” Thee replied softly, speaking to her mother without the
slightest awkwardness. “You’ve already eaten, Mom,” she added. “Join
us for dinner, won’t you?”
"I've already eaten. How could you let her skip dinner? Go make
something to eat, now. As for Peach, you'll come sit with me." Without
waiting for a reply, he grabbed Peach's arm and led him over to the
couch.
Peach looked back at Kian, who gave her a small, apologetic smile.
Though Kian's frown and worried expression weren't exactly
reassuring. Peach had no choice but to let her boyfriend go and
obediently follow Nat's order. Kian disappeared into the kitchen,
leaving Peach alone to face the formidable former actress.

Nat sat back in her spot on the large couch and patted the cushion
beside her in a silent invitation – or perhaps a command. Peach
hesitated for a moment before giving her a shy smile and moving to sit
next to her.
How was he supposed to keep his cool? This wasn't just any woman:
this was Nat! His idol. And on top of that, she was Kian's mom.
Sitting so close to her felt like a dream and a nightmare rolled into one.
"So... tell me. What do you do?" Nat said, her tone still holding a slight
hint of authority that seemed to come naturally to her. Her words had
a certain sharpness to them, but the gentle touch of her hand resting
lightly on top of his gave Peach some reassurance. She even began to
gently rub the back of his hand, a small gesture that helped him relax a
little.
She looked intimidating on the outside, but her actions felt
surprisingly warm, like an older sister who cared for more than she let
on.
"I am a freelance photographer. At the moment I am working for the
Arseny Group."
“Oh, the fall collection shoot?” Nat’s eyes widened in recognition and a
lash of excitement crossed her face. “Those photos were amazing!”
She kept saying how talented the photographer must be. The
composition was exceptional – the balance, the angles, everything.
"Simply perfect."
"Thank you," Peach said, beaming with pride. Coming from Nat,
someone she deeply admired, the compliment was harsher than
anything she had ever heard before.
"And where is your family from?"

"I'm an orphan. I never knew who my parents were." Peach answered

without hesitation, her tone even. "But I have a little sister who works
in Arseny's art department."
Nat frowned slightly, her expression tinged with worry.
"So, there are no guardians? No older relatives to take care of you?"
"Unfortunately, none at all," Peach replied, managing to maintain her
smile, though it felt forced and hollow.
He hated to admit it, but his thoughts began to spin. As much as he
mocked Mr. Thee for being obsessed with melodramas, his own brain
couldn't help but bring up overly dramatic dialogues from old soap
operas he used to watch as a child.
Ironically, many of which started with the same woman now sitting
next to him.
“So who am I supposed to negotiate the marriage proposal with?” Nat
muttered, shaking her head. Her tone sounded serious, and for a
moment, Peach’s stomach clenched in fear. “This won’t do. Everything
needs to be done properly. Kian already lured you into staying at his
condo. This is practically a scandal! We can’t let this slide. I’ll have to
arrange the formal engagement myself.”
Peach's jaw dropped. He stared at her in shock, his mind going blank as
her words sank in.
Meanwhile, Nat laughed at his shocked reaction, reaching up to ruf le
his hair affectionately.
She already knew everything about him, of course. In the ma ia world,
no one got close to someone like Kian – let alone became a major part
of his life – without being thoroughly investigated. And the

Peach's background? Immaculate. If anything, it was illed with such

relentless effort and determination that it made her heart ache with
fondness.
"What's going on in that head of yours? Did you really think I'd say I
don't approve because you don't have a fancy background or a rich last
name?"
Nat asked, her tone teasing but kind.
Peach scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, caught red-handed.
“I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to assume anything bad about you. But it’s
true, I’m nowhere near Kian’s level. I’m… just me.” Her voice trailed off
and she gave him a small, shy smile. Despite teasing Kinn for being
overly dramatic, it turned out he wasn’t much better. He’d clearly let
his insecurities – and too much daytime TV – get to him. Nat’s smile
softened and her gaze sharpened with quiet intensity.
"Peach, you are Kian's happiness. Why do you say you are not enough?
Are you trying to tell me that Kian's happiness doesn't matter?
“No, it’s not that,” Peach replied softly, with a faint but sincere smile.
Her eyes softened unconsciously as she spoke. “The love that Kian has
given me is the most precious thing I’ve ever received. But, even so,
while love may be between two people, being in a relationship isn’t
just between the two of us. It’s true that I don’t care what outsiders
think, but how could I ignore how you feel about it?”
Nat paused, his expression unreadable for a moment. He touched his
lips with his ingers before a wide, genuine smile lit up his face and his
eyes curved into crescents. Then, without warning, he was hugged.
"How can you be so sweet? No wonder you managed to win Kian over,"
he teased, cupping her face in both hands. His touch was warm and
affectionate, his thumbs gently brushing her cheeks, "Don't worry
about a thing, sweetheart. Neither me nor his father will have any
problems."

with this. And all that nonsense about how rich people need to marry
others." Rich people? That's something fake rich people say. Honestly,
I'd rather someone help me spend all this money!
Her half-serious, half-playful boast caught him completely off guard,
and Peach couldn't help but burst out laughing. For someone who was
supposedly intimidating as the mother of a mob boss, Nat was
surprisingly charming and… well, adorable.
"But why don't you carry any fancy things with you? Don't tell me Kian
hasn't been taking proper care of you?" she asked suddenly, her eyes
scanning him in mild confusion.
"Oh, no, not at all. He takes very good care of me. It's just that... I can't
really handle expensive things like that. It's not my style."
She tried to smile, but the memory of all the extravagant gifts Kian had
tried to foist on her made her head spin.
"Kian's been trying to spoil you with expensive items, hasn't he?" Nat
puffed out her cheeks slightly, clearly unimpressed. "After all the time I
spent watching soap operas with him, you'd think I'd have learned
something by now."
Peach blinked, puzzled. Wait… was that where Kian had picked up
some of his habits?
"Does Kian really like watching soap operas?" He wasn't sure why he
found the idea so funny.
But the mob boss and dramatic TV shows did not go hand in hand at
all.

“Dad has a whole cabinet full of my work. When Kian was little, he used
to love going through it with me. But Rome? That kid would always run
outside to play the moment I pulled something out.” She let out a
dramatic sigh, her expression exaggeratedly resigned.
"I like your work too. I even kept one of your posters."
"Oh my God." Nat gasped and brought his hand to his mouth, looking
genuinely touched.
"Why don't you become my son? We'll go straight to court tomorrow
and make it of icial."
“Not at all.” Kian’s deep, irm voice interrupted the conversation before
he appeared at the door with a plate of food. His sharp features were
tinged with a slight frown, but there was a hint of restraint in his
expression, probably because he didn’t dare show too much
disapproval in front of his mother. “If you adopt him, how am I
supposed to marry Peach?”
"When exactly do you plan to get married? I will prepare everything in
advance."
Nat replied, completely indifferent, her tone almost de iant. "Peach,
honey, what kind of wedding do you want? A beach wedding? Or maybe
in the mountains? Oh, a meadow full of lowers would be very
romantic, don't you think?"
Peach was completely lustered, her face turning crimson as she tried
to process their words. Thee, who had been watching silently, now
frowned as if he was ready to help plan the wedding. Caught in the
middle of this chaotic exchange, Peach raised her hands in a panic,
desperately trying to stop them.
"Wait, wait – please, let's not get ahead of ourselves, Kian, Mrs. Nat –"
"If you keep calling me Mrs. Nat instead of 'Mom', I'll take you straight
to the courthouse tomorrow to sign the adoption papers," she
declared, her eyes narrowing in a mocking pout. Her tone was
stubborn and petulant.
so much so that it was eerily similar to Kian's when he was upset.
Like mother, like son.
Peach froze and blinked for a moment. Then a small smile appeared on
her lips, soft and warm.
For someone who had spent much of his life unseen and unloved, the
way she showered him with care and affection was unlike anything he
had ever known.
"It's okay... mom."
"Such a good boy," she said fondly, gently pulling him to his feet. "Now
it's time for dinner. I hear you have a sensitive stomach, Peach.
Skipping meals and eating at odd hours is a big no-no,
OK?"
"Aren't you staying for dinner with us, Mom?" Peach asked, standing up
as Nat gently nudged him to his feet. Her polite and thoughtful
demeanor brought a soft smile to his lips, and he couldn't resist giving
his new friend another hug.
"son," clearly pleased.
"It's okay, sweetie. I've already eaten," Nat replied with a playful wink.
"Besides, I don't want to interrupt Kian's date for too long. Otherwise,
I'll have to deal with his anger later."
“Just admit it – Dad’s right behind you.” Kian relented, stepping closer
and effortlessly slipping an arm around Peach’s waist, pulling him into
a relaxed hug. Nat rolled her eyes, feigning annoyance, but her tone
remained cheerful.

"Oh, shut up. You're so jealous, Kian," she said, hitting him before
turning to Peach. She touched his face gently, her gaze warm and
caring.
"Take care of each other, okay? But you have to be patient with him."
Peach clasped her hands together and gave him a respectful tug of war,
watching as Nat headed for the door.
They instinctively followed her and waved her off, but when they
noticed the group of bodyguards already waiting outside, Nat gave him
a irm gesture and told him to send her to the door. Kian stood by the
door, watching until Nat entered the elevator. Once she was taken
away, he let out a small sigh and stepped back inside, heading straight
for Peach, who had approached the dining table.
On the table was a perfect array of cold soba noodles. The light brown
strands were neatly rolled up on a wooden tray, on a bed of ice. Beside
them was a bowl of cold broth, with wisps of cold steam rising faintly
from the surface.
On another plate was a tempting array of crispy tempura prawns and
vegetables fried to a golden brown. Peach blinked, amazed at the
thoughtful meal before her.
It was true that cold soba was one of her favorite dishes and the
weather had been scorching lately, but she didn't expect Kian to put in
the effort to prepare something she liked.
"You made all this yourself?" Peach asked, her eyes wide.
“I just boiled the noodles. The broth I bought from the store, and the
tempura I asked the housekeeper who came to clean earlier so the stir-
fry would be fresh for us. Still hot and crispy.” Even though Kian had
just been scolded by his mother for being less authoritative, the
satis ied tilt of his lips betrayed how pleased he was with Peach’s
reaction. Seeing Peach’s face light up like that made it all worth it.

They sat across the table from each other, picking up their chopsticks
to grab the soft, chewy soba noodles one by one. They dipped the
strands into the cool broth, swirling them around to absorb the lavor
before taking a bite.
The subtle sweetness of the broth illed the air and Peach closed her
eyes, savoring the rich aroma and lavor with a satis ied smile.
After inishing dinner, she gathered up the plates and bowls and
stacked them neatly in the sink for the housekeeper to deal with the
next day. Meanwhile, Peach made herself comfortable on the couch in
front of the huge television, casually scrolling through the options to
ind something to watch.
His favorite spot in the attic was de initely this one, the soft, plush one
perfectly positioned in front of the huge screen. Not only was it soft
and cozy, but it was also stocked with a mountain of pillows and
blankets, almost as if someone knew exactly what he liked. Massive
television offered access to every streaming platform imaginable, with
so many options that choosing a movie often took longer than
watching it.
As he lipped through the selections with the remote, Thee joined him,
an elegant wine glass in hand. Peach didn't drink alcohol, so the glass
was clearly for Thee.
The mob boss sat very close, slinging an arm around Peach's shoulders
and gently pulling her closer. His long ingers began to trace slow
circles on Peach's shoulder, radiating a sense of calm that Peach
couldn't help but sink into.
Blushing furiously, Peach tried to steady her breathing, her heart
pounding in her chest. But as the warmth of Thee's presence
enveloped her like a blanket, nervousness began to creep in.

melt. Instead, a calm feeling of comfort settled in and she allowed

herself to relax, leaning against Thee's chest with a soft, contented
sigh.
She sipped her wine a few more times, her eyes softening as she
looked at the man curled up in her arms. His expression was so tender
it practically glowed. Leaning down slowly, his tall body loomed over
Peach, and he placed a irm, lingering kiss on her temple.
"Can I kiss you?"
Peach couldn't help but smile. The mob boss was always very careful,
always asking permission before touching him, as if Peach might shy
away or say no. But not only did he not care, it made him nervous in
the best way possible. His cheeks lushed an even deeper shade of pink
as he let out a shy, slightly exasperated laugh.
"You don't have to ask all the time."
"I can't do that. I don't want you to feel forced," Thee murmured,
moving closer before pressing a soft kiss to Peach's soft forehead.
Peach felt like burying his face in his hands, overwhelmed by
tenderness. He wanted to scream that asking for permission every
time only made him blush more.
"I won't feel forced." Peach murmured, her cheeks still glowing pink.
Tilting her head up slightly. A small kiss will be pressed to the sharp
edge of Thee's jawline. "If there's something I don't like. I'll tell you.
And when that happens, you'll stop,
TRUE?"
"I'm afraid that if I don't stop in time, I'll end up hurting you."

Thee said, her lips brushing Peach's blushing cheek as she left a trail of
kisses, slow and deliberate, as if savoring every inch.
Peach couldn't help but smile, wide and warm. No matter how nervous
he felt, the affection in his chest far outweighed his embarrassment.
He shifted into a more comfortable position, raising both arms to
encircle Thee's neck. His bright eyes met Thee's in a soft, almost
pleading gaze.
"If it's you, I trust you. You would never hurt me, Thee."
The mob boss stood still for a moment, his throat letting out a low,
rumbling hum as if he were struggling to keep it under control. Thee
pressed her lips together tightly, then wet them with her tongue, her
gaze locked with Peach’s serious, intense gaze… and brimming with
desire. It was as if all her restraint was shattered in an instant.
"You're too cute, Peach."
Thee moaned, capturing Peach's lips in a deep, fervent kiss.
His mouth moved with purpose, his teeth tugging at Peach's bottom
lip, forcing it open before sliding his tongue inside with practice.
Their tongues intertwined, teasing and exploring as Thee claimed
every inch. The slight bitterness of the ine wine lingered in Thee’s
mouth, mingling with Peach’s own sweetness. She pressed deeper, her
tongue sliding along Peach’s teeth before tangling with her own again,
eliciting soft moans and shaky breaths. Thee didn’t stop, savoring
everything like it was the most intoxicating thing she’d ever tasted.
Every so often, Thee would pull back just enough to allow Peach to
catch her breath before plunging back in.

Thee leaned back slightly, her dark eyes scanning the breathless young
photographer slumped against her shoulder. Peach panting softly, her
chest rising and falling as if she had forgotten how to breathe. Her gaze
gleamed with unshed tears, so tender and sweet that she had to
swallow hard to calm herself, forcing her scattered thoughts back into
order.
“I don’t think I can stop anymore, Peach,” Thee murmured, her voice
low and husky. “If you want me to, you’ll have to tell me to stop… right
now.” Her lips moved down again, capturing Peach’s bottom lip in a
series of gentle bites and soft sucks, alternating between teasing and
pleading, as if she were begging for permission while demonstrating
how much she was losing control.
For someone like Thee – a man who had never lacked for company and
had never been asked to defend anyone – this was uncharted territory.
This was Peach, the one person he wanted to protect, the one he
wanted to cherish more than life itself.
Peach felt his cheeks lush and his pulse quicken. He wasn't naive; he
understood exactly what Thee was implying. But instead of fear of
hesitation, there was a strange lutter of excitement – a quiet
anticipation that made his heart beat even harder. And
Then, without saying a word, he leaned down and kissed Thee, his
actions speaking louder than any verbal permission.
The movie continued to play on the big screen, but neither of them
paid attention to it now.

ATTENTION CALL #43

Thee effortlessly took the young photographer into her arms, their lips
still locked in a passionate kiss. She kissed him again and again, deep
and consuming, pressing and nibbling and teasing as if to ensure
Peach could focus on nothing but the fervor she was pouring into
every touch. Their tongues entwined tightly, refusing to part, as Thee’s
kisses grew more insistent, even possessive, drawing Peach deeper
into the intensity of the moment.
Before Peach fully realized what was happening, he found himself
gently laid back on the massive bed. Thee’s taller, more solid body
loomed over him, supporting himself with her strong arms, but their
lips never broke contact. Peach’s mind raced, already aware of where
this was heading. He wasn’t naive, but the mixed emotions of shyness
and nervous excitement were impossible to ignore. His cheeks burned
with heat as he lay beneath Thee’s towering igure.
Judging by the obvious difference in their sizes, Peach didn't need
anyone to explain to her who would take the lead here.
Thee trailed kisses down her neck, leaving faint red marks in their
wake. Her ingers gently slid down Peach’s sides, teasing through the
thin fabric of her shirt before sliding beneath it. Thee’s warm palms
explored the irm skin beneath, tracing subtle lines of muscle that
contracted involuntarily at her touch. As her hands moved up, they
brushed against Peach’s stomach, sending a wave of shivers down her
skin. Peach couldn’t help but tense at the sensation, a shiver of
anticipation running through her body.

When Thee’s ingertips brushed a sensitive spot on Peach’s chest, he

let out a soft gasp, his back arching slightly off the bed. Seizing the
moment, Thee pulled him close and removed his shirt in one luid
motion. Now, Peach lay naked beneath him, her pale, lawless skin
practically glowing in the dim light, untouched by the sun due to her
indoor habits. Her chest rose and fell as Thee took in the scene, her
lips curling into a satis ied smile.
Thee leaned down and kissed Peach's soft skin, sliding down to reach a
pink peak on her breast. Without hesitation, Thee's lips closed around
it, alternating between soft sucks and playful bites. Peach's soft moan
was music to his ears and it only spurred him on to lavish equal
attention on both parts.
Finally, Thee pulled away far enough to see Peach lying before him, her
body supple, her chest rising and falling rapidly. Peach's gaze met
Thee's, wide and bright, her eyes a mix of shyness and something else,
something darker, stirred by the heat of the moment. Her lips, slightly
swollen from their earlier kisses, remained parted as she caught her
breath.
The mob boss gulped, his hand sliding up the slender, toned legs
hidden beneath tight jeans. His lips brushed Peach's ear, nibbling
softly, eliciting a soft moan from the smaller man.
"Peach... may I? You're too irresistible. I can't hold back any longer."
Peach bit his lip, the taste of red wine on Thee’s tongue still lingering,
intoxicating him. Heat surged from deep within him, making him
squirm. However, the sweetness in his heart overcame even the
burning desire coursing through his veins.

Wrapping her arms around Thee’s neck, Peach took the initiative and
pressed in for a kiss. That one act was all it took to unlock something
primal. Thee’s kiss turned fervent, shifting from passive to aggressive
in the blink of an eye. As their mouths devoured each other, her hands
skillfully unbuttoned Peach’s jeans. In mere moments, all barriers
between them were removed.
Thee leaned back slightly, her eyes scanning Peach's pale body
sprawled across the bed. It was as if she wanted to memorize every
detail, every curve. At the same time, she sheds her own clothes,
revealing a lean, muscular physique and… something else. Something
bigger, irmer, and impossible to ignore.
At least Dad's foreign genes made themselves felt.
Peach's gaze involuntarily lowered further and she gulped nervously.
Even though she had made up her mind and poured her heart out,
facing reality made her nerves tangled. Preparing for something didn't
mean being ready for it.
Thee leaned in to kiss him again, deep and deliberate, taking Peach’s
mind off her fears. Her lips traveled downward, leaving a trail of
possessive marks on the soft skin. Peach’s small body tensed under the
attention, especially when Thee’s tongue swirled around her navel,
eliciting a low, involuntary moan and arching of her hips. That reaction
nearly sent her over the edge.
Just the sound of Peach's hoarse moans and the subtle movements of
her body were enough to test Thee's restraint to the breaking point.
He worked his way lower, his lips brushing the source of Peach's
arousal, which was already hard – throbbing with need. In comparison,
the

Thee's mixed heritage gave her a noticeable size advantage, and he

couldn't help but smile. Leaning down, he placed a soft kiss on the tip
before slowly taking Peach into his mouth.
He had never done this with anyone before, but when it came to Peach,
he didn't feel the slightest hesitation or displeasure.
“Kian!” Peach cried out in surprise, his voice shaking as a rush of
warmth washed over him, making the heat between his legs burn even
more intensely. His smaller body twisted and tensed, his lips closing to
sti le his voice. His hands found Kian’s broad shoulders, unsure
whether to push him away or pull him closer.
Thee sped up her stroking, her movements deliberate and teasing. At
the same time, she reached for the bottle of lube on the nightstand and
generously coated her ingers. Taking advantage of Peach's dazed
state, overwhelmed with pleasure up front, Thee gently slid a lubed
inger into the tight, untouched ring of rear muscle.
“Ah – Kian, it hurts.” Peach jerked, instinctively trying to escape the
unfamiliar intrusion. But when his hips rose to withdraw, it only
caused more of him to slide deeper into Thee’s mouth. The stark
contrast of sensations – of pleasure surging from the front and
discomfort from behind – left him trapped, torn between withdrawal
and surrender. His every attempt to move was met with Kian’s irm
grip and those persistent ingers circling, pressing, coaxing his body
into submission.
He felt like he was locked in one place: every movement only increased
his sensitivity.
"I'm here. Relax, Peach. Just breathe," Thee murmured soothingly,
pausing to release Peach from her mouth. Her lips trailed over the

soft thighs of the smaller man, nibbling and licking at the lushed skin
to stoke the ire simmering in Peach's core. Moving back up, he
captured Peach's lips once more, his tongue drawing out the tension
as his hands continued their double assault – pleasing the front while
carefully working on the back.
Peach clutched the sheets desperately, forcing herself to relax despite
the unfamiliar sensations. She could feel Thee slipping a second inger
in, stretching her further, the discomfort giving way to a heady
pressure. Her entire body tingled, every nerve alight with a mix of
restlessness and an aching need deep in her belly.
By the time Thee added a third inger, Peach’s body was shaking from
the fullness, the stretch pushing her limits. Thee moved carefully,
alternating between slow thrusts and twisting motions, eliciting soft
gasps and moans. When her ingers brushed a sensitive spot deep
inside her, Peach arched off the bed, her stomach visibly tightening as
a sweet, high-pitched moan escaped her lips.
He smiled in satisfaction and with his other hand gently lifted the
smaller igure's leg over his shoulder, leaving more space between
them.
He leaned down to place soft kisses along the delicate curve of one
ankle, his ingers tracing gentle circles against a spot that made the
other shiver. A deep, husky sound escaped as Peach's half-lidded eyes
sparkled with sensations she'd never experienced before.
Thee’s gaze burned with silent passion as she admired every part of
Peach. Just being close was intoxicating. Even the graceful line of
Peach’s ankle, pale and soft under her touch, made her linger longer
than she intended.

Taking a step back to steady himself, he checked to see if everything

was ready. Once satis ied, he grabbed the golden package and ripped it
open with his teeth in one swift, expert motion. After making sure
everything was secure and prepared, he swiped a generous amount of
gel over his ingers, determined to make this experience as
comfortable as possible. This was Peach’s irst time and Thee was
determined to make sure it was illed with nothing but tenderness. He
wanted every moment to be something Peach would treasure. Thee
leaned forward and held Peach in a reassuring embrace. Gently, he
guided the shaking hands gripping the sheets to rest against his own
back. His lips brushed Peach’s ear, placing delicate kisses that melted
into a soft whisper, low and tinged with emotion.
"Let me in. You're mine, Peach," he murmured.
Peach met his gaze, her favorite smoky gray eyes now brimming with
desire and warmth. The connection sent a surge of heat through him,
one he could barely contain. Still, Thee held back, though sweat
glistened on her temples from the effort.
You didn't want to become a nightmare for the young photographer
below him.
"You're mine too, Kian," Peach whispered back. She pressed a lingering
kiss to Thee's chin, connecting them both in the intimacy of the
moment. "We belong to each other."
The sound Thee made in response was deep, almost primal, as if a
thread of restraint had inally snapped. Slowly, she settled back, her
large hands cupping Peach’s hips to offer support.
With deliberate care, he began to guide their connection, his
movements slow and considered, making sure Peach felt every stroke
of closeness between them.

Peach gasped softly, his breathing quickening as the new sensation left
him wide-eyed. His ingers instinctively pressed against Thee's broad
back, clinging to it for reassurance.
Though there was tension, Thee's patience and gentleness slowly
eased the discomfort.
He clenched his jaw tightly, the muscles along his face tensing in
restraint. He did his best to calm Peach, alternating between gentle
touches and soft kisses on her chest, hoping to ease her discomfort.
"Relax, baby. You're holding on to me too tightly," Thee murmured
against Peach's lips, peppering him with soft kisses to distract him.
Slowly and carefully, Thee guided himself, inching forward at a
deliberate pace.
She moved with unscrupulous patience, allowing Peach’s body to
adjust slowly. Thee measured each movement, sinking deeper with
each gentle pressure. You had never shown such self-control before,
but with Peach, you must be determined to be careful. You couldn’t
bear the thought of giving her even the slightest sting. No matter how
much it tested your resolve. You were willing to wait.
Soon. They found themselves fully embraced, their bodies pressed
against Peach's. A loud sound escaped Peach's lips, his breath catching
as he felt the warmth spreading through him. He instinctively adjusted
himself, leaning in to make sure every movement brought him
comfort, even as Peach's soft breaths turned into quiet, shaky sighs.
Leaning down, Thee placed another kiss on Peach's lips, tender but
lingering, her hands brushing over the smaller man's lushed cheeks.
She waited, feeling the tension slowly ease. When
Peach inally relaxed, Thee allowing herself a soft, husky whisper close
to her ear, her voice illed with unbridled emotion.
"Just relax, my love. I can't hold back any longer."
Thee kissed Peach deeply, her lips irm and unyielding as her hands
guided Peach's body to match her rhythm. Slowly, her movements
became more con ident, each one illed with care and intention. Peach
responded instinctively, her arms wrapping tightly around Thee's
broad shoulders.
As Thee's movements grew bolder, her lips found their way to Peach's
collarbone, brushing the soft skin reverently. Her strong hands held
Peach's waist, holding him irmly as they moved in sync. The steady
rhythm grew more intense, a shared wave of excitement overcoming
them both.
Peach, inexperienced but eager, could only respond by holding on
tighter, his body following Thee’s lead. Her voice, sweet and breathless,
illed the space between them, every sound revealing how new and
overwhelming it was to him. Every movement tried to ignite
something deep inside him, a warmth building in his core until it
over lowed. In the end, Peach trembled against Thee, her hot body
tensing as a wave of release washed over him, leaving him breathless.
Thee didn't stop, even after seeing that Peach had already reached her
limit. If anything, the tighter grip around her only fueled her own
desire. Tilting her head back, Thee let out a low, guttural sound, fueled
by the heat of the moment. With one last, deep thrust, he buried
himself completely, his body trembling as heat spread through him. He
leaned forward, resting his forehead on Peach's shoulder, his lips
pressing soft kisses along it.

of lushed skin, as if trying to share the overwhelming emotions that

were running through him.
Sex produced by the love of two people felt much more signi icant!
Carefully, Thee pulled back, moving deliberately slow so as not to cause
any discomfort. Despite feeling the lingering heat between them, she
didn’t stop. Her hand moved quickly, discarding the previous
protection and preparing another. Her lips found Peach’s once more,
eliciting soft, breathless sighs as she positioned herself again, gently
pressing forward.
“Ahh – Kian, what are you doing?” Peach’s voice trembled; her body
was still sensitive from their earlier connection.
"I told you I can't take it anymore. I want to stay with you like this, all
day and all night." Thee gently bit Peach's ear, her breathing warm and
steady as she shifted positions.
Taking a moment, he relaxed completely and then carefully guided
Peach to lie on her stomach, lifting her hips slightly to ind a
comfortable angle. Slowly and deliberately, he moved forward again,
making sure each movement was slow and conscious.
“Um… I’ve already cum.” Peach moaned softly at the overwhelming
sensation as they moved again, strong hands gently moving him into a
new position. Lying on his stomach, Peach felt Thee lift his hips
slightly, giving him better access. The movement was slow but
purposeful, and Peach could feel every moment of their renewed
closeness.
"But I didn't say it was just once." He moved his hips slowly, but kept a
strong rhythm both in and out. Peach

She emitted sweet moans, murmurs of surrender, and the sound of his
name, repeated like a mantra. Thee's deliberate rhythm, slow but
steady, elicited all the reactions she desired, ensuring Peach felt the full
extent of her love and devotion.
"Kian, don't tease me... ah, Kian..." Peach rested her head on the pillow,
her voice shaking with soft moans as she called out to her lover.
Despite having reached her peak, her body twitched again, unbidden.
"I'm here, my love. Tell me what you want," he murmured deeply. His
lips brushed Peach's shoulder to taste the slight saltiness of sweat.
One arm wrapped tightly around the slender igure, supporting him
through every movement, while the other hand tenderly tended to
him, drawing even sweeter sounds from Peach.
Peach turned to look at him, her eyes shining with unshed tears, her
lips swollen and red from the bite. Her lashing cheeks and ears made
him look absolutely endearing, testing Thee's patience to the limit. She
couldn't hold back any longer.
Thee leaned down, capturing Peach's lips in a irm kiss, muf ling the
soft cries that illed the space. At the same time, she increased the
pace of her movements, each one of them deep and intense.
Peach clung to him, her body trembling as emotions grew ever higher.
A gasp escaped Peach as she reached her limit again, her body giving
in to the overwhelming sensations, releasing a thick liquid all over the
bed again. Meanwhile, Thee followed shortly after, spilling her warmth
that the smaller boy could feel on his stomach despite there being a
condom as a barrier between them.

After a lingering kiss, Thee inally pulled away, though the reluctance
was evident in her every movement, Peach collapsed onto the bed,
completely exhausted, her breathing soft and uneven.
Thee watched him with a loving smile, softly kissing his shoulder
before lifting him up to take him to the bathroom.
Despite Peach's sleepy protests and playful scolding, Thee stayed by
his side, inding his grumpiness more adorable than intimidating. He
watched Peach with quiet concern, making sure he didn't trip or fall
from exhaustion. Once Peach was freshened up and changed into clean
clothes, Thee carried him back to the bedroom. Seeing the mess they'd
made, Thee gently picked Peach up in good spirits.
"Looks like the guest room is no longer available," Thee commented in
a satis ied tone, sounding anything but awkward. "I guess you'll have
to sleep in my room tonight."
Peach rolled her eyes dramatically, unable to resist giving Thee a
playful tap on the shoulder. Far from being offended, the mob boss let
out a laugh, clearly amused, and led the smaller man up the stairs to
his room with swift determination.
Thee gently placed Peach onto her massive king-sized bed, where the
smaller body nearly disappeared into the luffy sheets.
After casting a satis ied glance at the scene, he walked away to freshen
up. When he returned, Peach was already fast asleep, exhaustion
taking over after a long day of traveling, handing out presents to
children and… well, other activities that had left him completely
exhausted. With a sigh of contentment, Thee slid into bed, sliding a
strong arm under Peach and carefully pulling him up until the smaller
man was resting against his chest.
His rough ingers traced lazy patterns through the soft, silky hair,
twisting strands around his ingertips as a soft smile curved his lips.
He admired Peach’s serene face – the long lashes resting on her
lushed cheeks and the lips still slightly swollen from countless kisses.
Faint marks ran down her neck, reminders of their shared intimacy.
Having someone he loved, and who loved him back, lying so trustingly
in his arms illed Thee with a warmth he didn't know he could feel. It
was comforting, sweet and tender, like a perfectly toasted
marshmallow, golden and soft.
He tightened his embrace slightly, wishing he could hold Peach even
tighter, as if fusing their beings together. Pressing a lingering kiss to
the crown of soft hair, he whispered,
"Good night... Sweet dreams, my love."

ATTENTION CALL #44

Peach woke up the next morning and sat dazedly in the unfamiliar bed
for a moment. Her eyes slowly scanned the room, trying to piece
together where she was.
Quickly, memories of the previous day came rushing back, making him
groan in embarrassment. He buried his face in his hands and stood up
– especially when the dull ache in his body served as a not-so-subtle
reminder of what had happened.
Since their Saturday date, everything had spiraled quickly – from
meeting Ms. Natlada at the apartment to ending up being completely
“claimed” by Thee before passing out from exhaustion. He hadn’t
expected to wake up on Sunday morning, still wrapped tightly in those
strong, warm arms, their bodies tangled with barely any space
between them.
It took Peach a long while to free herself from Thee's embrace without
waking him up.
He ran straight to the bathroom, only to freeze in front of the mirror.
Her breath hitched as she took in the sight of his fair skin now marked
with pink lowers scattered all over – faint traces of possessiveness
etched into every inch of him.
Thee's possessiveness clearly ran deeper than Peach had thought.
He stared at his re lection for a moment, still processing the sight,
when strong, familiar arms snaked around his waist from behind,
pulling him into a secure embrace.
"Why are you up so early? You should get some more rest," Thee
murmured in a low, husky voice, pressing a lingering kiss to the

Peach's blushing cheek. He sounded too cheerful and self-satis ied,

which made Peach internally strengthen.
"I have work to do," he replied, his voice still a little groggy, though he
didn't bother to break free from Thee's irm grip.
It was comfortable like that.
"Are you sure you're okay? Does it still hurt?" Thee asked softly, a large
hand resting protectively on Peach's hip. "You don't have a fever, do
you? Aren't you too tired?"
"A little sore, but I'm okay," Peach smiled weakly, patting Thee's large
hand in reassurance. "I have work to do today. Let me get ready."
Thee, however, frowned as if he hadn't heard a word. He nodded
decisively, already making up his mind. "We should take a shower
together. In case you can't hold out for long – "I'm worried."
Before Peach could protest, Thee effortlessly lifted him up and placed
him on the bathroom counter. She brie ly disappeared, returning with
a towel and to give clear instructions: brush your teeth, don’t lock the
door – I’ll be back.
Peach couldn't help but stare, mouth agape, as Thee left the room, too
exhausted and physically drained to get up and lock the door. With no
other choice, he resigned himself to the inevitable. At least Thee was
somewhat considerate, despite a few playful touches; he didn't force
things too much during the shower.
Afterwards, she inally let him get dressed while she left the room
herself.

Peach slung her favorite bag over one shoulder and grabbed her
camera gear. After a quick look in the mirror, she headed downstairs,
following the delicious aroma wafting from the kitchen.
He headed straight to the dining table. Breakfast was usually prepared
by Thee’s long-time housekeeper, who had been with him since he irst
moved to Thailand. He was notoriously picky about who set foot in his
home, trusting very few people.
Given the chilly weather, Peach had opted for an oversized t-shirt and
some comfortable long cotton pants. But as she approached the dining
table, she noticed Thee sitting there, his eyes narrowed in obvious
disapproval, though a slight, amused smile tugged at the corner of his
mouth.
“What’s wrong?” Peach asked as he slid into the seat across from Thee,
adjusting the collar of his shirt that was slipping slightly before picking
up a spoon to dig into the fragrant bowl of oatmeal in front of him.
"You're too cute. I'm possessive."
Peach's mouth dropped open, cheeks burning instantly. No matter how
many times Thee dropped those compliments, he still couldn't get
used to them. He tried to bare his teeth in a playful expression, like a
warning, but that only earned him a low chuckle from the clearly
amused mob boss.
"I'll take you to work," he said casually as Peach was halfway through
her bite. She raised an eyebrow in mild surprise, but continued eating.
"Don't you have work at the of ice?"

“Not today. Just a few paperwork to clear up.” Thee shrugged, as you
had held a few meetings earlier in the week to free up time for your
appointment. “But after I drop you off,
I’ll probably check out a couple of branches. There’s some work on site
I need to inspect.”
Peach nodded, aware that running a business wasn’t the glamorous,
straightforward life that television dramas often made it out to be. A
CEO’s responsibilities went far beyond simply signing papers with a
dramatic lourish, and Thee’s empire extended far beyond a single
company – the Arseny Corporation was a massive network of
businesses with complex operations and high stakes.
Even though Peach was just a photographer, deep down he rooted for
Thee, determined to support him in any way he could.
"I'll pick you up this afternoon. Call me when you're done and we'll stop
by your condo." Thee added, but Peach frowned, puzzled.
"Why my condo? Are the pipes ixed yet?"
“No. We’re moving your stuff in here,” Thee’s lips curved into a
mischievous smile, her smoky eyes sparkling. “I’m yours now. You have
me – you’re not going to think about throwing me aside, are you?
Using me and letting me sleep alone in your condo? That’s not going to
happen.”
Peach’s jaw dropped even further, her brain struggling to process the
absurd statement. Wait – he was responsible for who now? Wasn’t he
the one who had a “ irst time” experience last night?!
"Or better yet, I could move into your condo. We can keep the rest of
my staff here and move everyone in next week."

“My house is too small for all your stuff,” Peach grumbled, sounding
more resigned than sarcastic. He was just stating facts. Her small,
cramped apartment barely had room for her stuff – there was no way it
could accommodate two people.
"Then I'll just bring myself and leave the rest," Thee replied, frowning
in false seriousness.
"Or better yet, I'll buy the unit next to yours and hook them up.
Problem solved."
“Are you kidding me?” Peach couldn’t help but laugh, shaking her head
at Thee’s habit of throwing money at problems. Thee’s sharp eyes
softened and her lips curved into a soft smile. Her large hand
absentmindedly caressed the back of Peach’s hand, as if the touch
itself had become second nature.
“Come on… live with me,” Thee murmured, turning her hand to take
Peach’s smaller one, giving it a light squeeze. Her deep voice held a
hint of pleading, which made Peach freeze for a second. Her eyes
widened, heat rising to her cheeks and ears in record time.
Why did Thee seem more charming and irresistible since they started
dating? It was as if he had increased his attractiveness, leaving Peach
completely disarmed.
Defeated, Peach looked away and nodded reluctantly, unable to argue
further. Her satis ied smile widened as she returned to her breakfast,
clearly in a good mood. Somehow, Peach realized too late that she had
willingly fallen into Thee's trap.
After they inished breakfast, Thee made a quick call to her secretary. A
brief exchange later, she grabbed her bag and gently pushed Peach
towards the door, announcing that Mok was already waiting for them.
However, what neither of them expected was to open the door.

door and ind Thee's secretary emerging from the apartment next
door at exactly the same moment.
If Peach remembered correctly, the apartment next door belonged to
Thee's younger brother, someone she had never met but vaguely
remembered hearing was just as possessive as Thee himself. Seeing
Thee's secretary stop by her brother's house was... unexpected, to say
the least.
"Is Rome still asleep?" He asked casually, completely unfazed by the
sight, unlike Peach, who blinked in confusion, his face clearly showing
how lost he felt.
"Yes, I'm still unconscious. The lady stopped by your house last night,
so it was... a little late," Mok replied in an even tone, though his tired
expression and faint dark circles under his eyes told a different story.
Thee nodded in understanding and patted Mok irmly on the shoulder
as if offering silent comfort. “Wait. I’ll let you out early today. Go home
and recover a bit.”
Mok visibly linched but wisely decided not to argue. Instead, he
turned his attention to Peach, who was still awkwardly standing
behind Thee.
“Good morning, Mr. Peach.” Mok hesitated for a fraction of a second
before showing a faint smile. He reached into his pocket and pulled out
a small jar of thick cream. “I think powder alone isn’t enough. A
concealer might work better. You can use this one if you want.”
Peach frowned, confused by the seemingly random offer, until she saw
Mok lightly tap his neck. Her cheeks instantly lushed as she raised her
hands to cover her neck in panic.

The marks Thee had left all over her body were already causing her
problems. Peach never wore makeup beyond a basic mattifying
powder, assuming that would be enough to hide everything, this
morning. Clearly, she had been wrong.
“Speaking from experience, right?” Thee teased, her deep voice laced
with amusement. At the same time, she tugged on Peach’s collar,
adjusting it more comfortably. She might enjoy leaving her mark, but
that didn’t mean she wanted anyone else to see it.
"When are you and your brother going to stop being so incredibly
possessive?"
Mok stood expressionless, all traces of embarrassment gone. Peach,
listening quietly from the sidelines, realized something she hadn't
noticed before.
Without further discussion, Thee led the way to the elevator, her
ingers wrapped irmly around Peach's hand pulling him along.
Peach looked down at their intertwined ingers, and the corners of her
mouth curved into a soft smile. The warmth in Thee’s grip was
comforting, easing her nerves. She gave Thee’s hand a gentle squeeze
in return, not intending to let go. Shortly after, a black car pulled up in
front of Studio A. Peach got out, ready to say goodbye, only to see Thee
exiting the car after him.
"Is something wrong?" Peach tilted her head slightly, confused by
Thee's presence.
Thee responded with a soft smile, though there was an undeniable
sharpness shining in her eyes.
"I'm accompanying you."

"But... we're already here." Peach gestured to the studio behind him,
still confused.
“Not good enough. I need to take you all the way.” The brief intensity in
Thee’s gaze left no room for argument. Peach decided it wasn’t worth
asking any more questions and let Thee lead him inside hand in hand.
After walking out of the company elevator hand in hand the other day,
the entire of ice probably already knew about it. He’d long since
stopped caring about keeping it a secret.
….Although he seemed to have forgotten that some people still didn't
know.
As soon as they entered the studio, a tall igure ran towards them. It
was Kinn, one of the models who would be shooting the summer
collection campaign alongside Aran. Peach didn't expect Kinn to arrive
so early.
The young model, barely twenty years old, smiled brightly as he
approached – until he was close enough to notice something. His
entire body froze, his large eyes ixed on their clasped hands, still
irmly intertwined. Thee’s eyes narrowed slightly, her sharp features
taking on a predatory tone. Her lips lifted at one corner in a slight
smile, like a beast subtly asserting dominance over its territory.
"Peach and Mr. Thee. Why are you holding hands?" Kinn asked, his face
blank in surprise, clearly confused.
Thee immediately let go of Peach's hand, but her gesture was luid,
moving naturally to put her arm around Peach's shoulders. Her large
hand gently pressed Peach's head against her shoulder before she
leaned down to give her hair a quick kiss, never taking her eyes off the
tall model.

Peach looked at the scene, still not fully understanding what was
happening. Although he felt somewhat embarrassed by how close they
were, his cheeks burning, he didn't feel the need to push Thee away. He
knew that Thee had a slight possessive bent. As long as he wasn't too
pushy, Peach chose to let him do as he pleased.
What puzzled him, however, was the sense of tension in the air
between Thee and the model, as if sparks were lying between them.
“I’ll pick you up tonight,” he said softly, looking down to meet Peach’s
eyes. His expression, which had been tense a moment ago, seemed to
soften into a look of contentment. He ruf led Peach’s hair a few times
before turning to leave, and walked away, leaving Peach to face the
curious gazes of the people around him.
"What's going on, Peach? Has Kinn already lost? But we haven't even
started." The model's deep voice broke the moment, and he collapsed
to the ground, running his hands over his face dramatically. Peach
blinked, startled. She didn't understand why Kinn was acting so
childish all of a sudden.
"What's going on, Kinn? What are you talking about?"
Kinn stared at him, frowning, his large eyes shining with a hint of
tears. But when Peach gave him a blank look, frowning in confusion,
the tall model dropped his head into his hands and sighed deeply.
"Peach!"
Peach was about to ask him again when he heard a familiar voice
calling his name. His younger sister appeared, running towards him
with wide, surprised eyes behind her glasses.

round. Her cheeks were lushed and she looked embarrassed. Without
wasting any time, she grabbed his arms and quickly led him to a quiet
corner, her body language tense, as if she had something urgent to say.
"What's going on, Plub? What are you doing?" Peach asked, giggling
lightly as she sensed what her younger sister was thinking.
“Why did you get out of the car with that guy? I saw you, you know?”
she teased, pretending to pout, though her eyes sparkled with a
mischievous spark. “So you’re taking rides together now? Is that what
dating means? That’s not even the way! And what’s with all that sweet,
cheesy stuff in the studio? Have you gone soft now?”
"Actually, I'm staying with Thee now," he replied calmly, raising an
eyebrow and giving a playful wink, causing Plub to punch him in the
arm with all his might.
"Ouch, that hurt, Plub! Why are you hitting me?"
"You deserve it," she replied, acting all sassy, half joking, half serious.
“It’s not like that. The water pipe in my condo broke, so he’s letting me
stay with him for now,” Peach quickly clari ied, almost choking on the
words. She couldn’t help but wonder if her sister had been getting too
close to Thee and her mob friends lately. Her words were starting to
sound oddly critical.
"How long will you stay there?" Plub narrowed her eyes, looking
suspicious.
"At irst, just a week… but then Thee said, since we're already dating..."

Peach paused, hesitating, wondering how much of this conversation

she could actually share. The words from the morning before were
de initely not directed at her sister. Plub stared at her brother's
 lushed cheeks before sighing. She patted him on the shoulder several
times.
“I knew it. One night, and now you’re stuck with it forever.” she said,
pretending to wipe one eye, dramatically imitating a mother sending
her son off to be married. “Poor Kinn, it’s too late though.” Peach
almost asked what he meant, but stopped when he quickly changed
the subject. She didn’t press any further. The two siblings stood talking
for a while as they waited for the crew to set up. Then, a tall igure
approached them.
Plub looked over, planning to greet the newcomer, but when he saw a
small woman walking towards them, he quickly pushed Peach back
and hid behind him. His eyes, now illed with malice, exuded a sudden
surge of anger.
It wasn't just Plub who was visibly upset. The male model also rushed
over, his long strides bringing him closer, standing ready as if he was
prepared to take on anyone at any moment.
Peach looked up and just seeing the person standing there made her
cheek hurt again. But since the two kids beside her were acting so
irritable, she quickly grabbed her sister's arm and gently rubbed her
head to calm her down.
Tawan slowed his pace, stopping some distance away when he noticed
everyone around him staring coldly at him. Peach quickly scanned the
other side as she held her sister in a relaxed manner, making sure she
didn’t act impulsively. Right now, the person he was most worried
about was probably the young man.

The male star’s face was expressionless, no longer displaying the

proud and smug look he used to have. There was a fading bruise near
his mouth and a bandage on his forehead. His right hand wore a bulky
white cast, held in place by a sling over his shoulder. His calm
demeanor was so unusual that it made Peach take a second look.
Normally, when Tawan wasn't with him, he would show a small smile, a
little arrogant but still approachable due to his looks and charm. But
when it came to Peach, Tawan's altitude was always irritating and
rigid, almost to the point of annoying him. But this calm and reserved
attitude? It was quite strange that Peach couldn't help but be
surprised.
"Peach, I need to talk to you. Can I have a moment?" Tawan said, his
eyes locked with Peach's, trying to convey sincerity. Peach hesitated
for a moment before giving her sister a gentle punch on the arm,
signaling her to get back to work.
"This is dangerous, Peach. What if that guy goes crazy again?"
"You think I can't handle someone hurt, Plub?" Peach lightly tapped
him on the forehead. "Stop wasting time and get back to work."
“Then I’ll stay with you.” Kinn said, his tone unusually cold and the
change in atmosphere was surprising. “I’m already there – my makeup
and clothes are ready. I just need to wait for my scene, I’m sure you
won’t mind, right?”
Peach looked away for a moment, remembering that when he was hit,
Kinn had stepped in to block him. They had even argued iercely with
Tawan, almost coming to blows due to anger over the attack on him.
Not to mention that Kinn had taken him to the hospital afterward.
Having Kinn at a reasonable distance gave him some comfort.

Although he had told Plub that he could handle someone like Tawan, he
couldn't deny that deep down, there was still a lingering shred of fear.
“I won’t do anything to him. You can just stand there and watch if you
want,” Tawan said, his voice calm and unconcerned. Plub, who had
been in front, reluctantly stepped aside. He turned and tightened his
grip on Peach’s arm, reminding her to scream if anything happened or
if Tawan acted aggressively.
As Plub walked away to do his work, Kinn stepped back, but his eyes
remained ixed on Tawan, never leaving him for a second.
Realizing this, Tawan took a small step forward, keeping a safe
distance. Not everyone watching would feel any more comfortable.
Tawan stood still for a moment, seemingly trying to gather his
thoughts. Peach didn't rush him, she simply waited and watched. She
glanced at the set and saw that they were still working on setting
things up. There was plenty of time.
"I'm stepping away from the industry."
Tawan said softly, lowering his eyes uneasily. At the same time, there
was a hint of sadness in his aura. Peach tilted her head slightly, not
understanding why someone would leave the industry just because of
an injury. Even if it was time to heal, that didn't mean she couldn't be a
star again.
"I'm going to take over my father's company," Tawan continued, his
lips tight. He spoke in circles as if he didn't know where to start.
"My father has been under a lot of stress lately. We had a lot of
problems and he ended up in the hospital. So I've decided to take over
completely."

Peach pursed her lips. Although Tawan spoke vaguely, she could guess
that one of the problems might involve Thee, directly or indirectly.
One thing that didn't change about the mob people was that they
didn't let themselves go once they got angry. If Thee was upset, he
would hold on and keep digging until everything collapsed.
Peach pressed her lips together, not knowing what to say. Especially
since he might have been part of the reason those problems arose,
even if it wasn't directly his fault.
“I’m not here to scold you, nor am I asking for help.” Tawan seemed to
sense what Peach was thinking and quickly spoke up. He raised his
unbandaged hand to gently rub the back of her neck, a sign of
discomfort. “I just wanted to apologize. I may never see you again, but
at least, for the last time, I want to tell you that I’m sorry.”
Peach stared at Tawan. The young man's gaze was calm, but there was
a mix of sadness, guilt, and worry in his expression, Peach could tell
that Tawan's words were genuine.
“I’m so sorry for hitting you that day. I’m sorry for treating you badly all
this time,” Tawan looked down, bowing his head sincerely. “…I’m sorry
for being a bad part of your life.” The young photographer relaxed a
little, and his frown softened. While he couldn’t feel any warmth or
familiarity towards Tawan, he also didn’t harbor enough resentment to
reject an apology.
"What's done is done. Let it go." Peach replied latly, neither happy nor
upset. "I hope everything goes well for you from now on."
Tawan looked up, the corner of his mouth curved into a slight smile
and his tension eased. At least between the two of them, there was
nothing left unresolved.

They didn’t speak any further. Tawan simply bowed his head in farewell
before turning to leave. Peach silently watched him walk away, then her
gaze drifted to a distant corner where Aran stood, watching. The
smaller model brie ly made eye contact with Tawan before turning and
walking away as well, leaving the actor to stare until they were both
out of sight.
Peach didn't know what kind of problems the two had, nor did she
know if they could be resolved, but in the end, it was no longer her
concern.
"Are you okay, Peach?" Kinn, who had been standing nearby, came over
and asked.
He had heard the whole conversation, but more than that, Kinn was
worried about Peach's feelings. It couldn't be easy for someone who
had been hurt to face those who had wronged them, even if the
meeting was to receive an apology.
"Yeah, I'm ine." Peach said, lashing a wide smile. She felt like a weight
had been lifted off her chest. She patted the younger model lightly on
the shoulder and urged him to get back to work. "Get ready for your
scene. No more slacking off."
Kinn pretended to complain, saying he was just worried about him, but
Peach simply laughed and gave him a playful shove back to his work.
In the end, life goes on. It keeps turning, bringing people into our lives.
And while we play the lead role in our own story, the world also throws
us into the lives of others, sometimes for the better, sometimes for the
worse – some encounters brief, others lasting – all depending on
where life’s journey takes us.
The role we play in another person's story is determined by our own
actions.

And in the end, all that will remain are the memories we've shared
with each other, memories that might one day become nothing more
than funny anecdotes from a conversation.
THE LAST CALL FOR ATTENTION
The grand mansion sat deep within the estate, hundreds of yards from
the front gate. Tire tracks cut a long path through the pristine blanket
of snow that spread across the grounds. On either side, well-tended
gardens – now hidden under a thick blanket of white – hinted at their
beauty even in this icy season. Beyond, not far away, stood a stone
fountain, its waters frozen in the biting cold.
A sleek black European car stopped in front of the mansion’s entrance.
Once the vehicle came to a complete stop, a tall man in a black suit
stepped out from the front seat, his eyes scanning the surroundings
carefully before opening the back door. From within, an imposing
young man emerged irst, his smoky grey eyes immediately falling on
the passenger beside him. Without a word, he leaned down and gently
lifted a little girl who was fast asleep into his arms, cradling her against
his chest. His free hand reached out to help a child out of the car.
Across the way, Peach stepped out of the vehicle, making sure Arseny's
men had unloaded the suitcases and presents before approaching the
boy, taking his small hand in hers. This freed Thee to hold the little girl
more securely in her arms.
A tall bodyguard in a black suit opened the large doors to his mansion,
bowing slightly as his employer and his family entered. The staff, well
trained in decorum, lowered their gaze, avoiding eye contact with the
young mob boss and his loved ones. Peach, now accustomed to such
protocol, led her son by the hand, walking right behind Thee as they
entered the house.
Inside the mansion, the warmth immediately contrasted with the
frigid world outside, as if they had entered a completely different
reality.

Warmth seeped through their layers of clothing, and Peach began to

remove her thick winter coat, helping her son take off his as well.
Every year, as winter came and the year drew to a close, her family
would gather at this sprawling estate on the outskirts of Russia to
celebrate the season together, Peach handing their coats to a waiting
housekeeper before turning to help Thee with hers. The tall man
moved with deliberate care, making sure that his little girl in his arms
remained calm. Once his coat was off, Thee turned her attention to the
girl, tenderly removing her jacket without waking her.
The little girl snuggled deeper into her father's arms, her rosy cheeks
pressed against his chest in pure contentment. Thee's lips curved into
a soft smile at his relaxed expression, her heart warming at the sight.
After handing their winter coats to the housekeeper, the family made
their way deeper into the mansion. At the center of the house was a
sunken living room, the loor of which was designed in a circular shape
a few steps below the surrounding level. The spacious area was fully
padded with soft fabric, creating a cozy atmosphere. On one wall, near
the circular seating area, hangs a huge television.
Currently, soft, melodic music was playing from a streaming app, illing
the space with a calm atmosphere.
“My goodness, Kian! Peach! What took you so long?” a woman sitting
in the middle of the padded area exclaimed, quickly rising to greet
them. She hurried over and extended her delicate hands to embrace
the young man who had stopped to offer her a polite wai. “Mhok,
darling, you are so handsome! My goodness, you have grown into such
a ine young man!”
It had been three years since Peach and Thee started their life
together. A year after moving in with Thee, they had decided to

formally adopt the two children, just as they had always planned.
Peach often took Thee to visit orphanages and spent time with the
children to ensure that they found the perfect match. To her pleasant
surprise, Thee effortlessly bonded with the children, and the
connection between the mob boss and the two children was nothing
short of remarkable. Once they were certain of the suitability, the
adoption formalities were inalized without any complications.
The only noticeable change since then had been in the orphanage
itself. Every time Peach visited, the place looked better and better, to
the point where it barely resembled her old place.
When asked about it, the head caretaker, Ms. Nualphong, explained
that a generous benefactor had taken it upon himself to sponsor the
orphanage. This mysterious donor not only covered all the expenses,
but also sent people to improve the facilities, making sure they were
clean, tidy and safe. The orphanage had been transformed into a
sanctuary for children.
Hearing this, Peach couldn't help but look at the mob boss beside her.
There is a proud posture and a weak, knowing smile that gives
everything away.
Peach quickly pieced together the story, even before Thee turned to
him with an expectant look, as if expecting praise.
Peach had chuckled at the time, though she later had to "pay" for this
good-hearted gesture with more than a few rounds of her lover's
passionate enthusiasm. In the end she decided it was worth the price.
When Peach irst took Mhok and Marn to meet their new grandparents
– Thee’s mother Natlada and the formidable Arseny – the pair had
fallen head over heels for the children. So smitten were they that it
wasn’t long before the boy and girl were of icially registered as part of
the Arseny family.

Peach had often teased Thee, joking that he had been "dethroned" as
his children were clearly more doted on by the family than he was.
However, rather than feeling slighted, he seemed to be brimming with
pride, even devising ways to win his children's affection over that of
their doting grandparents.
"Why are you so late, Peach? I've been waiting forever!"
A cheerful voice interrupted Peach's thoughts. The voice belonged to
Plub, another young girl of the house, who came out of the kitchen
carrying a plate of fresh fruit. She quickly placed the plate on the
table, wiped her hands, and hurried to check on the children.
Although she was eager to play and pamper them, the sight of little
Marn sleeping peacefully in her daddy's arms made her hesitate.
"She's so adorable. Isn't Marn just the cutest thing, Mhok?" he
whispered, taking care not to wake the girl.
Mhok, the little boy, nodded solemnly, his eyes shining with pride and
affection as he looked at his younger sister.
"What did you bring with you, Plub?" asked Natlada, who had been
gently stroking her grandson's hair with motherly affection before
turning her attention to her newly adopted daughter.
“Mangoes, Mom. I brought a bunch from Thailand because I thought
you’d miss them.” Plub replied with a bright smile. He leaned in with
an exaggerated, conspiratorial whisper. “And guess what? Dad peeled
them himself!”
He said it was to win your heart."
"Oh, my sweet daughter," Natlada cooed, drawing Plub into a warm
embrace, her sharp, commanding demeanor softening even further.
Two years ago, the family's adoption story had expanded beyond
Peach and Thee. After meeting Plub, Natlada took an immediate liking
to him and their conversations lowed effortlessly. Before long, Nat had
declared that Plub should become a part of her family as well.

family. "We're practically a family now, aren't we?" she had reasoned.
"Why not make it of icial and welcome him into the family?"
Natlada had been particularly sensitive to the idea that Plub might feel
abandoned, especially since Thee, Plub's brother-in-law, had become
an integral part of Peach's life. Nat had refused to allow Plub to feel
that her only sibling had been "taken away" from her. Over time, her
affection for Plub grew to the point that she insisted on making her the
youngest child in the family.
However, Plub had politely refused to formalize things legally, fearing
that people might assume she was clinging to her brother-in-law's
wealth and in luence. Despite her concerns, she was treated as if she
were already an of icial member of the family.
The family gathered on the soft, solid cushions in the living room, and
little Marn, who had slept soundly throughout the journey, was gently
laid down to rest. Beside her, Mhok sat struggling to stay awake, his
eyelids heavy with exhaustion. Peach, ever the doting parent, coaxed
her son to lie down, placing the boy’s head in her lap. After tucking him
comfortably into a blanket, Peach stroked Mhok’s hair in slow,
soothing strokes until the boy inally succumbed to sleep.
“Oh, he’s already gone?” came a tense voice from behind. Rome, Thee’s
younger brother, leaned over the backrest, his tall igure towering over
the seating area. His sharp grey eyes sparkled with amusement as he
looked at the sleeping boy. “What a sleepyhead! He just got here and
you’re already asleep?”
"Can you please not disturb the children? They are jet-lagged." Mok,
Thee's secretary, interrupted with a tired sigh as he approached from
the other side of the room. His tone was stern, though not

devoid of affection. "Didn't you go to Disneyland yesterday? I bet you

went broke."
"Can you please not disturb the children? They are jet-lagged," Thee's
secretary, Mok, chimed in with a tired sigh as he approached from
across the room. His tone was stern, though not without affection.
"Didn't you go to Disneyland yesterday? I bet you exhausted yourself
running around everywhere."
"I'm sure you do," Peach replied with a soft laugh. "Last week, Thee
took the kids to Japan for a trip to Disneyland. From there, we lew
straight to Russia. Between the traveling and the excitement, it's no
wonder they're exhausted."
"I wasn't bothering you! I was just checking because I care,"
Rome grumbled, though his smile betrayed his amusement. He
reached out and hugged Mok tightly, clearly not caring about the
secretary’s protests. “You like kids, don’t you? Admit it! I’ve always said
you should have a couple of your own. No, wait – three kids, so I can
outdo Thee here.”
"Calm down, Rome. Are you sure you can take care of yourself?" Mok
replied curtly, his expression as stoic as ever, though the faint pink
creeping up his ears gave it away. "And keep your hands to yourself.
There are children around."
“Exactly! You can barely manage on your own,” Thee chimed in as he
returned from a conversation with his father. Approaching with a
mischievous grin, he put his arm around Peach’s shoulders and hugged
his companion tightly. Thee’s scathing comment earned him a slap on
the hand from Mok, much to everyone’s amusement.
"All of you, stop it!" Peach scolded softly, her voice barely above a
whisper as she pointed at her son. "You'll wake the kids up if you do."

"They keep going like this." Sure enough, Mhok stirred slightly, his
small brow furrowed in his sleep.
"You're right," Thee admitted, leaning down to give Peach a quick kiss
on the cheek. She carefully lifted her sleeping son into her arms.
Peach did the same, lifting little Marn from her spot on the cushions.
Together, they carried the children to their respective bedrooms,
making sure they could continue to rest undisturbed.
Peach cradled Mar gently in her arms. The little girl instinctively
snuggled closer, her small body snuggling up against him in familiarity.
A soft smile appeared on her lips even in her sleep, prompting Peach to
affectionately stroke her ingers against her chubby cheek. She
followed Ti, who was carrying her son in her arms, and knocked on the
stairs.
Thee led the way to the second loor of the house. Although the master
bedrooms were on the third loor, they had decided to use the second
loor master bedroom. With one child eager to wander everywhere
and another always running around, it was safer and more practical to
keep them close. If the house had a proper bedroom on the ground
loor, they would have opted for that, but the second loor was the
better option.
Reaching the bedroom, Thee pushed the door open with her shoulder.
Inside was a spacious king-sized bed, lanked by a smaller side bed
pushed up against the wall for the little ones. With careful steps, she
crossed the room and gently laid Mhok down on the pillow. Once she
was sure her son was comfortably settled, she turned to take Marn
from Peach. Placing her next to her brother, Thee adjusted their
positions and wrapped the blanket tightly around them both.
Pench watched the scene unfold with a slight smile on his lips. At irst,
he had been the most enthusiastic in adopting the brothers. But

As time went by, the loving father who couldn’t tear himself away from
the children for even a moment turned out to be nothing less than the
stoic mobster before him. Before Peach could sink into his thoughts,
Thee’s strong arm reached out, pulling him towards the bed. With a
irm yet gentle movement, Thee guided him to rest his head on her
broad shoulder, safely enveloping him in a warm embrace.
"What are you doing, Kian?"
"You should rest too," Thee replied, moving her hand to stroke Peach's
hair with slow, comforting strokes. "You've had a long light and you've
spent all your energy taking care of the kids.
You need to take a break. "
"But weren't you helping me the whole time?" Peach replied with a
small smile, though she instinctively snuggled closer to Thee's
warmth.
"Thank you for everything. The trip to Japan was amazing."
Thee smiled, clearly pleased. The trip to Japan had been something
they had planned together a long time ago. But with their hectic
schedules and the arrival of the two little ones, their lives had been a
whirlwind. It wasn't until later this year that everything inally calmed
down enough for them to be able to take the trip with their family.
Peach had inally completed her list of "restaurants you must visit
before you die."
He chuckled softly to himself, remembering how it had all started: the
heartfelt proposal from his beloved, Thee, back in the day. What made
it all even more meaningful was how Thee had truly kept every
promise she had made. With Thee by his side, Peach never felt alone in
this world again.

A faint smile graced Peach's lips as she decided to take a little nap, just
as Thee had suggested. She barely closed her eyes when she felt Thee
moving beside her, luttering around as if she was searching for
something. Intrigued, Peach opened her eyes to see what was going on.
Thee gently pulled him towards her, enveloping him in a warm
embrace. Thee placed a irm kiss on his temple before moving to his
lips. She kissed him slowly, tenderly, nibbling lightly before deepening
the kiss with the touch of her tongue. Peach tilted her head, matching
Thee’s rhythm, completely immersed in the moment.
When Thee inally pulled away, she did so slowly and deliberately,
leaving a warmth that lingered. She placed another irm kiss on
Peach’s lips before resting their foreheads together. Their eyes met,
locking in a silent but intense gaze.
Amidst the silence, Peach felt Thee's hand gently tighten around her
left one. Thee lifted Peach's hand and placed a kiss on the back of it.
Then, in a deep, steady voice, she began to speak.
“I, Theerakit Kian Arseny, swear to love you and be faithful to you, in
joy and in pain, in sickness and in health…” Thee’s voice faltered
slightly as she paused. She looked down to focus on what she held – a
simple silver band adorned with three smoky grey diamonds, which
sparkled in the soft light. She slid the ring onto Peach’s left ring inger,
her
movements deliberate and reverent. “…to love you, honour you, and
cherish you, as long as
I live.”
Peach froze, her wide, expressive eyes illed with surprise. Within
moments, tears lowed out, glistening like tiny crystals.
She had always considered herself someone who didn't cry easily.

And he had never imagined that this moment – this moment that
would change his life – would happen to him.
"Marry me, Peach. I love you so much... so much that I don't know what
else to do."
A laugh erupted from Peach’s chest, mixing with the tears now
streaming down her cheeks. She stared at the man before her, this
imposing mob igure who had just made eternal vows, slipped a ring
onto his inger – and then of icially decided to… propose to her after
all?
"You're supposed to come up with a suitable proposal irst, right?"
Peach asked, her voice laced with laughter as she raised a hand to wipe
away the tears running down her cheeks.
"I couldn't wait." Thee admitted, pouting slightly as she hugged Peach
tightly. "I want to marry you as soon as possible.
"I wanted to make it bigger, more of icial, something better, so
everyone would know how much I love you. But I couldn't do it the way
I wanted, and it's driving me crazy."
"And you didn't think I might say no?" Peach took the opportunity, a sly
smile appearing on her lips. She narrowed her eyes at the cheeky
comment before wrapping him in an even tighter hug, practically
enveloping Peach in her chest.
"Even if you did, it wouldn't matter. I'd be happy to keep making vows
to you on my own until you're ready to say yes." Thee replied seriously.
Peach couldn't help but smile, her expression softening at the sincerity
behind Thee's words. They might have sounded like a joke to anyone
else, but Peach knew that Thee meant every word she said.
"But I don't have a ring."
“Yes,” Thee said with a smile, suddenly sitting up straight and reaching
for something on the nightstand. After some fumbling, she pulled out a
second ring box, identical to the irst. Inside was another matching
ring, the same elegant design but slightly smaller, with sparkling clear
diamonds that sparkled beautifully.
Peach accepted the ring, her lips curling into a soft laugh as her chest
illed with affection for the man before her. Still, she held Thee's hand
tightly, breathing deeply. Her face softened into a tender smile, her
gaze meeting Thee's in an unspoken exchange of love and
understanding.
Slowly, Peach lifted Thee's left hand, gently cupping it as she slid the
ring onto her inger. As she did so, she spoke her vow with unwavering
conviction.
"I, Peachayarat Janekit, do promise to love you and be faithful to you, in
joy and in sorrow, in sickness and in health... to love you, honor you,
and cherish you as long as I live."
Thee broke into a wide smile, her happiness beaming. She leaned
forward, capturing Peach’s lips in a kiss—not warm or urgent, but soft
and tender. It was a kiss that conveyed everything she couldn’t put into
words, full of love and devotion, a silent testament to how deeply she
adored the man in her arms.
There was no need for a grand ceremony or priests to of iciate the
vows. Their witnesses were only the two little brothers, fast asleep and
blissfully unaware of the world around them.

All that mattered was that the person in front of him loved him,
appreciated every part of who he was. And all that mattered to Peach
was that he loved her just as deeply in return.
That alone was more than enough.
No matter when or where, as long as they were walking side by side, it
was all the happiness Peach could ask for. Nothing else in the world
could compare.
End Of The Main Story
 .......... .

More iles here

SPECIAL CALL FOR ATTENTION #0.5

"What are you doing, Mr. Thee?"
Mok, the young secretary, couldn’t help but ask as he watched his boss
concentrating intently on a small piece of paper. The man had been
obsessed with it since last night, and it was now morning, but he was
still hunched over it as if he were preparing for the most critical
negotiation of his life. Mok was sure that there were no urgent work
matters left unresolved – it was de initely not something that required
such concentration.
“I’m preparing a Valentine’s gift for Peach,” Thee replied, her voice as
serious as if she were closing a multi-million dollar deal. Mok blinked,
puzzled.
"And what exactly are you doing?"
“Writing a love letter!” The mob boss declared with unwavering
con idence, his expression serious and his eyes shining with
determination.
The secretary froze. His hand immediately went to his forehead as if
he could physically hold back the oncoming headache.
Knowing his boss's peculiar way of speaking…Mok couldn't help but
imagine that a disaster was brewing.
"Where did you get this idea, sir?" he asked weakly, already
anticipating having to prepare for damage control.
"Mom said writing love letters is incredibly romantic!
Even when the hero and heroine are worlds apart, a letter can always
convey their love across any distance," Thee explained with a small
smile of satisfaction, as if she were quoting wisdom.

passed down through generations. Mok, on the other hand, nearly hit
his head on the table.
"What drama has the lady been watching lately?" Mok muttered in
resignation.
"No, she likes novels."
Mok's brow twitched. "And... what novel could this be?"
"Behind the Painting!!"
The young secretary let out a long, deep sigh before speaking with a
serious face.
"But in "Behind the Frame", the ending was not happy for the
characters,
You know?".
Thee froze, his eyes widening in surprise. He looked at the small piece
of paper in his hand, now feeling unsure and worried.
…In the end, that love letter never reached Peachayarat.
 SPECIAL CALL FOR ATTENTION #1
Theerakit Kian Arseny, a Thai-Russian heir and owner of several
companies under the
Arseny corporate empire, was the eldest son of a notorious Russian
mob boss. His strikingly handsome face, often with a stern, no-
nonsense expression, only added to his imposing presence, making
Thee’s name impossible to ignore.
In addition to his sharp mind and captivating appearance, Thee's
fearsome reputation spread far and wide, making him someone
people do not cross lightly.
“What are you doing here, Kian?” a familiar voice interrupted. Thee
slowly raised his head, his expression tinged with mild annoyance. He
held an iPad, its screen illed with business documents in stark
contrast to the relaxed atmosphere surrounding them. Without a
word, he gestured for his younger brother to sit down and casually
poured himself a drink.
They were in a luxury restaurant-lounge in the heart of the city. The
second loor housed a private glass-enclosed room with an
unobstructed view of the lower level, reserved only for the most
exclusive clients.
Since Rome, his only younger brother, was a major shareholder in the
place – despite being a silent partner – he enjoyed special privileges,
including access to the VIP section.
"Where's Peach?" Rome asked, surprised that his brother had let Peach
out of his sight.
He gave his brother a sidelong glance before shifting his gaze
downstairs, wordlessly urging him to follow.

On one of the living room sofas sat a stunning model, her legs elegantly
crossed. Opposite her, Peach worked with impeccable concentration,
taking photos with rehearsed precision.
Today’s pictorial featured a sexy nightlife concept, and Thee had
suggested using Rome’s place to achieve the perfect atmosphere while
also helping promote the place. Peach initially offered to shoot the
campaign for free, but Rome latly refused.
Meanwhile, Thee sat drinking whiskey, clearly there just to keep an eye
on her boyfriend at work.
Rome chuckled softly, already guessing that Peach had probably kicked
her brother out of the ilming area.
He was about to strike up a casual conversation when a slender
woman approached them, moving with practiced grace. She smiled
sweetly and asked if she could sit next to Thee as if it were the most
natural thing in the world. Rome raised an eyebrow and glanced at his
brother.
Thee's intense gaze remained ixed on Peach downstairs.
completely indifferent to the curvy beauty who was practically spilling
out of her tight dress as she openly stared at him.
This could be entertaining.
Rome thought with mild amusement, but kept his tone polite as he
addressed the uninvited guest.
"I don't think it's a good place for you," he said, lashing a cold half-
smile as his stormy grey eyes narrowed slightly, sending a subtle
warning. "My brother isn't the type to be… accommodating."

He wasn't eager to act as a protector; if anything, he was curious to see

how this would play out, but everyone on the second loor was a VIP
client. Avoiding unnecessary trouble was better for business.
Except when it came to your brother. You were way above the VIP level.
"Maybe I'd be more open-minded if we met." She laughed, unfazed by
the warning.
With a playful glint in his eyes, he reached out, ingertips ready to
brush the back of Thee's hand as he casually traced the rim of his
whiskey glass.
The instant his ingers brushed her hand, Thee grabbed her wrist
roughly, slamming her ingers together with a loud crack that echoed
in the silent room. A vivid red mark blossomed on her delicate skin.
“Don’t touch me,” Thee growled, giving her a leeting, sharp look. His
piercing eyes lashed with a dangerous edge, sending a chill down her
spine and freezing her in place.
One crucial thing to remember about Thee was that she despised lies,
manipulation through personal relationships, and especially physical
contact.
The woman shuddered, her delicate hand blossoming with a vivid red
mark.
Her full lips pressed into a tight line as she shot you a wounded look
before retreating, clearly considering making an attack. But with all the
VIP clientele around, she wasn’t foolish enough to make enemies here.
Rome, watching the whole scene like a disinterested spectator, let out
a long, tired sigh.
"Still can't shake that touch phobia, huh? It's been years, Kian."

Thee absentmindedly swirled her whiskey glass in slow circles,

watching the amber liquid swirl hypnotically. Her sharp eyes darkened
slightly, lost in memories of a time long past.
He was ifteen years old when his father sent him and Rome to an elite
boarding school in Europe. It was one of the most prestigious
institutions on the continent, renowned for its brilliance, exclusivity,
and an aristocratic student body illed with heirs and heiresses of
prominent families.
Despite his youth, Thee walked through the school gates with a cold,
imposing intensity. His smoky grey eyes scanned the vast campus with
silent calculation. His mere presence exuded power, making it
impossible for others not to notice him, even if it was out of fear.
Murmurs followed him like shadows:
"That's the eldest son of the Arseny family"

"It's terrifying! I heard it could kill without even blinking."

"He's only ifteen! Isn't that a bit exaggerated?"

"He's a ma ia heir. What are you waiting for? Stay away from him."
Thee paid no attention to the murmurs. He gripped his bag tighter and
walked forward without a second glance. He was already used to
gossip and dark rumors spreading like wild ire.
They only got worse with time.
"Thee!"
A voice called out just as a strong arm casually wrapped around his
neck. He cast a sidelong glance, silent but not bothering to ignore it.
“What’s this? You’re already famous on your irst day?”

"Irritating," he muttered latly, though he didn't seem particularly

annoyed.
Tris was a tall, good-natured European with a charming smile it for a
fairy-tale prince. He couldn't have been more different from Thee's
intimidating, sharp personality. Yet somehow, Tris was the only person
you could call a friend in this place.
"Come on, it's the irst day of the semester! We should have some fun,"
Tris laughed, giving him a friendly pat on the shoulder. "And guess
what?
"We're roommates! That calls for a celebration!"
"I won't go. Useless." Thee's blunt dismissal came without a hint of
tact. Parties and social events were never on her agenda.
"No way! You have to come!" Tris exclaimed, grabbing his broad
shoulder before he could walk away. "You can't survive in this school
without making friends, Thee. Trust me, I've got your back." He sighed
and narrowed his eyes in mild irritation. Still. When Tris ran over
excitedly and put her arm around him again, he let him stay.
They entered their classroom and settled into their seats. This elite
school was not just a playground for the ultra-rich; its academic
demands were notorious. Classes were intense, with a grueling
curriculum taught by top-notch instructors. Each class had a ten-
student-to-teacher ratio, emphasizing critical thinking, debate, and
structured analysis.
For Thee, who was poised to take over his family’s vast business
empire, academics came irst. Anything outside that realm was trivial
in his eyes. When the last class of the day inally ended, Tris jumped
out of her seat, practically vibrating with excitement.

"Thee! So, are you coming tonight or what? I already have others
joining us. Let's meet new people!"
"I'm not going. It's annoying." She replied in a lat tone, her hands busy
packing her bag without even looking up.
"Don't be so cold! Come on, if you don't go I'll die of boredom," Tris
complained, giving him a dramatic look.
"I have things to do today. Just go with the others," Thee said, slinging
her bag over her shoulder. Noticing how serious you looked, Tris
sighed and lightly patted you on the shoulder, as if to say, Okay, I
understand.
"It's okay if you're busy. I can't argue. But next time, no excuses!"
A slight smile tugged at Thee's lips before he turned on his heel and
walked down the stairs. A sleek black luxury car was already waiting
for him outside.
It didn't take long for the car to stop in front of a corporate building.
Thee stepped out with her usual storefront expression, brie ly nodding
to the person already at the entrance.
Arseny's network was vast. When Thee decided to take over his
family's business empire, his father immediately arranged for him to
begin training. At just ifteen years old, Thee lacked the maturity and
experience to make fully informed decisions, but his father insisted
that he needed to grasp the bigger picture of Arseny's operations.
Starting with the European branch near the school, Thee began
shadowing the branch manager. Whenever their schedules aligned, he
was expected to learn everything from scratch,

understanding the fundamentals of the company and how each

department worked.
His father never forced him to follow this path. It was Thee's own
choice, which made him take it even more seriously.
The young heir followed the branch manager, exploring loor after
loor, learning the ins and outs of each department, from scratch. He
needed to understand what kept Arseny’s empire running.
Hours passed as Thee pored over the paperwork, his concentration
unwavering. Finally, he glanced at the clock: 10 p.m. Realizing how late
it was, he set the paperwork aside and leaned back in his chair, visibly
exhausted.
“Thank you,” he said to the executive assistant, who was one of his
father’s most trusted aides. With a small nod. He acknowledged the
assistant’s effort. The man bowed slightly in return before con irming
the details of their next meeting.
Thee checked his schedule, packed his things, and returned to the
dorm. Each room was meant for two people. When he opened the door,
darkness greeted him, causing his eyebrows to furrow in confusion.
Why hasn't Tris come back yet?
The dorm had a strict curfew and throwing a party came with a code of
pesky rules. Breaking them could affect behavior evaluations, a serious
issue for students aiming for top grades.
Thee mentally calculated the time. Tris had always been punctual, so
this felt wrong. With curfew approaching and no sign of

his roommate, worry was eating away at him, though he hated to

admit it.
There was a restaurant nearby with private party rooms, just a ive-
minute walk from the dorms. He decided to check it out and grabbed
his jacket.
Prevention is better than cure.
When he reached the hallway, a familiar voice called out to him.
"Kian, did you just get back?"
He turned and saw Rome, his younger brother, walking from the right
wing of the bedroom, lazily rubbing the sleep from his eyes.
"Why aren't you in bed?" Thee asked, walking over to him. Rome
yawned widely, looking as exhausted as he looked.
“I needed a quick walk before I crashed. Exercise, you know!” Rome’s
excuse was half-hearted at best, and they both knew it. “You’ve been
trying too hard. You’re lucky I’m not ratting you out to Dad.” He smiled
at his brother’s attempt to dodge the obvious. Choosing not to press
further, he casually changed the conversation.
"Tris hasn't returned yet. I thought I'd stop by and check on her."
Rome's expression turned serious as he nodded. He gestured for her to
lead the way and followed closely behind.
When Thee arrived at the private room, she was met with a
conversation she never expected.
He stopped just outside the door, his ears picking up every word
clearly. Inside, the voice of the only person he considered his friend
echoed, boasting to a group of unfamiliar people.

"Who would want to be friends with someone like you? You're so dumb
it's annoying."
"But you two seem close," someone else joked. "I saw you two cuddling
this morning."
"That's just to get him to let his guard down. A rich brat from the
Arseny family is useful."
Through the frosted glass door, you could see blurry igures inside. The
bright lights in the room made their movements clear against the
darkness outside.
She recognized the broad shoulders of who she thought was a friend,
relaxed and shrugging casually.
“Actually, I’m planning on selling him. Do you have any idea how much
a mob heir like Thee Arseny is worth?” Tris continued, her mocking
tone sharp enough to cut through. “I was going to lure him here, get
him drunk, and turn him in. Too bad he’s so uptight. He’s probably
holed up somewhere, packing away his bad mood.”
"Come on, at least pretend to be his friend. You guys share a dorm,"
someone half-heartedly suggested.
"Dude? Don't be ridiculous. I only dated him because no one else
would."
Laughter broke out and glasses clinked in a noisy display.
Thee's hand tightened around the door handle. Knuckles turned white.
His lips pressed into a thin line, face tightening into an icy mask. A
wave of nausea surged through him, his chest twisting with disgust.
Every hand that had caressed his shoulder,

Every arm around his neck, every bright smile... It was all a dirty lie.
Slowly, he loosened his grip on the door, his dark eyes burning with
cold intensity. At that moment, he noticed Rome ready to enter the
room, his ists clenched. With a swift movement, Thee grabbed his
younger brother and held him irmly before he could act on impulse.
"Let me go, dammit! Why are you holding back, Thee? Let me beat the
shit out of him!" Rome growled, struggling to hold onto Thee.
“There’s someone pulling the strings, someone who wants my head,”
Thee said coldly, her voice irm but her eyes burning with intensity.
“We deal with that irst. After that, he’s all yours.”
Rome frowned, but eventually stood still, his stormy grey eyes
narrowed as he stared at the igures inside, memorizing every detail.
One day I would come back for them.
“Come on,” Thee ordered, her voice low and controlled. She walked
away from the door, leaving behind the only person she had ever called
friend without a second glance.
One day he would settle accounts with his own hands.
………………..
Though the complex web of betrayal was eventually unraveled and
Rome had his long-awaited chance at revenge, some wounds within
Thee never healed.

He stopped trusting people. He hated being used. And worst of all, he

hated being touched.
It was as if he had completely locked himself away from the world.
Rome took a slow sip from his glass, contemplating whether he should
say something – but before he could speak, the glass door to the VIP
lounge opened.
A tall, slim igure walked con idently into the room.
Peach smiled lightly, exchanging a few casual words with Rome before
heading to the large leather couch where Thee was sitting.
Without hesitation, he sat down next to her, deliberately moving
closer.
Thee blinked, momentarily taken aback – but a warmth spread through
his chest, overshadowing the confusion. His lips curved into a strange
smile as he raised his arm, wrapping it around Peach’s slender body
and pulling her close. His broad hand gently traced soothing circles
over Peach’s shoulder in an instinctive, familiar gesture – as he had
done hundreds of times before.
It wasn't that this was new to them – it had practically become their
signature sitting position. The only difference was that Peach normally
kept some distance when they were in public.
"Everything okay? Are you tired?" He asked, gently stroking Peach's
cheek to check on her. Peach pursed her lips and shook her head
slightly. Her cheeks turned a slight shade of pink, though her eyes
couldn't help but glance at the group of girls behind them.
Thee followed his gaze silently and saw a group of young women,
including the one who had been sitting next to him earlier. They were
now staring, wide-eyed and stunned. She lowered her eyes to her lover
just in time.

to catch the leeting smile tugging at Peach's lips, a quick, satis ied
little smile that disappeared almost instantly.
Adorable. How could his Peach be so adorable?
A wide grin spread across Thee's face and her eyes lit up with joy. Just
knowing that Peach had gotten jealous enough to ditch whatever event
she'd been at downstairs and come up here to snuggle in her arms
made Thee's heart practically wag its imaginary tail in delight.
Unable to resist, he leaned down and planted a irm kiss on Peach’s
soft lips, pulling back only to nibble on them playfully. Peach’s eyes
widened in surprise, her cheeks and ears lushing a deeper shade of
red. Thee chuckled low in her throat, making him tense with a few
indiscreet comments until Peach playfully smacked him away, earning
herself another passionate kiss in return. Worth it.
Rome watched the whole scene unfold with a slight smile before
picking up his glass and silently walking away, leaving his brother and
Peach to enjoy their moment together. Although Thee's old wounds
hadn't quite healed, she seemed... happy today. She had let someone
into her life, someone she truly cared about. And for Rome, seeing his
brother smile like that again was the only thing that truly mattered.

SPECIAL CALL FOR ATTENTION #2

The tall mob boss was leaning against the headboard, his toned
muscles on full display, drawing attention without even trying.
However, instead of enjoying his own charm, his sharp eyes were ixed
on the smaller igure pacing back and forth for nearly an hour.
It was Peach’s day off, and since Thee only had work scheduled for the
afternoon, the morning was supposed to be their time together – a
lazy, indulgent morning where she could relish having her lover close
by for hours. In fact, Thee had planned to spend most of the day
tangled up with Peach, content to keep him within arm’s reach. But as
the morning progressed, Peach slipped out of her arms to head to the
bathroom. After that, she’d been running between the closet and the
mirror ever since, circling like a restless bird.
She narrowed her eyes slightly, her annoyance simmering just beneath
the surface. Normally, Peach wasn’t one to fuss about clothes. Unless it
was a formal event that required a suit, she stuck to her casuals – t-
shirts and jeans, with the occasional oversized hoodie or extravagant
garment thrown in, thanks to Plum’s relentless habit of stocking her
wardrobe.
Lately, a few nice shirts Thee had picked out for him had appeared in
the mix, but they rarely saw the light of day. Yet here Peach was, trying
on one of those very shirts, standing in front of the mirror, turning
back and forth with a frown on his face.
After a moment, he took off his shirt and returned to the closet,
searching for something else. He felt a lash of pride as he watched
Peach choose the shirt he had bought, but that pride was quickly
overshadowed by a growing frustration. Peach, who normally cared
nothing for her attire, was now very focused on her appearance. Thee,
a

A man who could get jealous of the wind if it blew in the wrong
direction, you couldn't help but seethe in your own possessiveness.
And to top it off, here he was, shirtless and sitting on the bed, but
Peach didn't even spare him a glance!
“Kian,” Peach inally approached the bed, expression serious and her
eyebrows carefully arched together in concentration. She began, voice
solemn as she tried to appear stern, “Do I look intimidating already?”
She blinked twice and her previous jealousy disappeared in an instant.
His smoky grey eyes slowly scanned Peach, taking in every detail. The
smaller man was dressed in an unfamiliar combination: a grey dress
shirt paired with black trousers.
Her hair was down to her shoulders, leaving her forehead bare, and on
her wrist was the fancy watch Thee had given her. Finally, her gaze
landed on Peach’s adorable face, where she was trying, with all her
might, to look stern and serious. A soft smile tugged at the corner of
Thee’s lips as her eyes softened. She opened her arms and embraced
Peach in a House hug, leaning in to give her lover a kiss on the lips.
"You're beautiful".
Peach's cheeks immediately lushed a con ident pink.
Even after months of dating, Peach still hadn’t gotten used to Thee’s
delicate affection. Every time the mob boss touched him – even in the
smallest gesture – Peach couldn’t help but feel embarrassed. However,
after months of getting close, with countless shared moments like this,
Peach leaned in and kissed him back, even shamelessly nibbling on
Thee’s bottom lip for good measure.

He let out a growl from the back of his throat, his eyes darkening as he
began to pull Peach closer, clearly intending to deepen the kiss, but
Peach broke into a it of laughter and quickly wiggled out of his strong
arms before things could get any worse.
climb.
"Not going to happen," Peach joked, still smiling. "You have work later
and I have plans too."
"Why are you trying so hard to look intimidating?" He let out a long
sigh, letting it go reluctantly, though the hint of a pout remained on his
face. "No matter what you do, you won't be scary, Peach."
Her words weren’t meant to provoke; they were simply the truth.
Peach had a naturally kind face, with large, round eyes that curved
slightly downward at the edges and lips that always seemed to hold a
soft, faint smile. She practically radiated warmth, drawing people in
like a comforting light, a fact that made you endlessly protective. And
in Thee’s mind, even if Peach bared her teeth and snarled, she would
still be nothing but endearing. Peach let out a long sigh, clearly aware
of her own lack of intimidating presence.
"But today I want to look intimidating"
In one swift movement, Thee pulled him onto her lap, wrapping her
arms tightly around Peach and resting him against her chest.
He caught a glimpse of Peach's lushed cheeks as he idgeted, clearly
nervous at the sudden closeness. There was a wide, satis ied smile.
After all that time in the gym sculpting his muscles was not going to be
wasted.
Thee played along, pretending not to notice what Peach was referring
to and instead continuing the conversation from before. "So, why do
you want to look intimidating? Aren't you meeting Plub today?"
"I'll be meeting up with Plub, but someone unexpected will be
accompanying her." Peach muttered with a frown, her previous
shyness completely forgotten.
“Hmm? The person she mentioned yesterday?” Thee asked,
remembering Plub’s phone call to Peach the day before. Ever since he
inished a big project with Arseny, Peach had been caught up in a
whirlwind of other assignments. As an in-demand photographer, he
barely had time to catch his breath, let alone chat with his sister as
often as before. Thankfully, Thee had convinced him to move in
permanently; otherwise, inding time together would have been nearly
impossible.
Still, their shared moments had become increasingly rare.
– a fact that frustrated Thee more than she cared to admit. But she
understood Peach’s passion for her work. Peach then promised to
reduce the assignments once her current workload lessened. Thee
could do nothing but wait, supporting her hardworking lover from the
sidelines.
Of course, that also meant that Peach would have to
"make up for it." in his own way later.
Yesterday, Plub had called his brother, chatting casually like brothers
do when they haven't seen each other for a while.
Hearing that Peach would have some free time the next day, Plub, who
had managed to inish his work earlier than expected, wasted no time
in planning a dinner with him. He also mentioned that he had brought
someone he had been talking to lately, someone he wanted Peach to
meet.

"However, this isn't the irst time Plub has introduced someone he's
dating, is it?" Thee asked, her lips curling into a teasing smile as she
buried her face against Peach's neck, inhaling the faint, comforting
scent of her soap. Somehow, the same soap smelled much more
appealing on Peach than on anyone else.
Peach linched and hunched her shoulders, turning away from Thee’s
playful advances, before turning to face him. Of course, the attempt to
look stern had no effect on Thee – it only made Peach look cuter in his
eyes.
"Yeah, but this time it's different." Peach grumbled, her tone wavering,
which only made Thee raise an eyebrow in curiosity.
Normally, once things got serious with someone, Plub would introduce
her to Peach as a matter of course. Not that he ever insisted on it –
Peach made sure to never interfere with her sister’s decisions or
pressure her. It was Plub’s decision, a sign of his trust in his older
brother.
He had once joked that Peach should know everyone he dated so that if
anything ever happened to her, he would have a full list of suspects.
The joke, while light-hearted, always made Peach overthink things. He
got so nervous that every time he met one of his dates, his demeanor
would become stern and formal, like a father bullying his daughter’s
boyfriend. It was one of the rare times Peach took full advantage of his
status as a renowned photographer. Now, after two years of being
single, Peach had found someone he was serious about and wanted to
introduce him to his brother once again.
"Who is it? Let me run a background check for you," Thee said, her
brow furrowed slightly as she reached for her phone, already

planning to have his secretary investigate him. He had a soft spot for
Plub, admiring his sharp wit, sociable nature, and positive outlook on
life, traits he shared with his brother. Compared to his mischievous
younger brother, Rome, Plub was much easier to like. “Or if you really
want to bully the guy, I can lend you some bodyguards. I’ll have Mok
pick out the ones with the meanest faces.”
"How about that?" Thee suggested, half-leased, but fully willing.
"No, thanks," Peach immediately shut him up. "I already looked into it
myself.
From what I found, he doesn't seem like a bad guy. I'd even met him
before."
Peach grabbed her phone and quickly checked her search history from
the night before.
After Plub shared the name of his date, Peach wasted no time looking
up any information she could ind online. While it wasn’t as deep as
what a ma ia network could dig up, the general details were enough to
get the gist. Peach handed you the phone and the screen showed a
basic pro ile. “Tatsuya Shohei, owner of Shohei Agency – who I worked
with on my last project.”
The eyebrows immediately furrowed and the relaxed expression he
had been using disappeared in an instant.
Touch or Tatsuya Shohei. The name carried weight. He wasn’t just the
owner of a random agency – he was the son of one of Japan’s most
powerful yakuza clans, which had shifted its focus to legitimate
business ventures in an effort to expand and solidify its in luence.
Though their ields did not directly overlap, the Shohei family was
close enough in Thee’s own operations to register as competition. The
tension between Arseny’s syndicate and Shohei’s group was subtle but
palpable – like two apex predators circling each other, competing for
territory.
Peach had once done a photo shoot for the launch of Shohei Modeling
Agency. The images were so eye-catching and

memorable shots that instantly raised the agency's pro ile. In just ive
or six months, with the boost of Peach's photography and a hefty
investment from Shohei, the small agency with just three models had
transformed into a rising entertainment powerhouse.
Naturally, the agency's CEO, Touch, caught the eye. Aspiring actors and
models locked to him hoping for a chance.
But who would have thought that the yakuza heir turned businessman
would be stalking an employee of Arseny's company's art department?
Thee normally couldn't care less who the son of a yakuza boss chose to
pursue. But Plub was like a little sister to him, and Peach – who seemed
intent on bullying Tatsuya – was his partner.
As a mob boss, always ready to back up his lover no matter the
situation, Thee couldn't help but worry. How could her boyfriend, a
small-framed, sweet-natured photographer, be planning to bully
someone?
“Take some bodyguards with you. A lot of them. Actually… that might
not even be enough.” He muttered, frowning as he began to treat the
situation as if it were a matter of national security. “Where are you
meeting him? At what time?”
"Four o'clock," Peach replied, a little puzzled but accommodating. He
then gave the name of a popular Korean barbecue restaurant, clearly
chosen with Plub's preferences in mind.
"I'll inish everything by four. Wait for me," Thee said in a serious tone,
already writing instructions to her secretary to rearrange her
schedule. Anything that could be moved, she was moving to make sure
it was free.
“Wait what?!” Peach turned to him, surprised. “You don’t need to
worry! I don’t want you to miss work because of this.”

"I won't miss anything. Plub is my sister too," Thee said irmly before
leaning down to give Peach a kiss on the forehead. Then, with a quick
movement, she picked Peach up and placed him back on the couch.
"I'm sorry, but I won't be able to accompany you to lunch today. I'll go
straight to the of ice."
"Kian!"
Peach gasped in surprise, but Thee simply responded by pressing a
irm kiss to her lips before disappearing into the bathroom. She wasn’t
particularly looking to pick a ight with Shohei, but if Peach wanted to
intimidate the young yakuza heir, Thee was more than happy to lend a
hand.
………………..
The relationship between the heir to the Arseny ma ia family and the
talented photographer wasn’t exactly a secret. In fact, Thee had
practically broadcast it to anyone who would listen, wearing his pride
on his sleeve. Still, their story wasn’t public knowledge outside of
certain circles. But in an industry where everyone was more or less a
competitor, this kind of information had a way of getting around.
Touch –
Having been warned by Plub about her brother’s personality – she
already had an idea of what to expect. She even vividly remembered
Peach from their previous collaboration. Back then, the man was
approachable, warm, and easy-going, with a personality that left a
lasting impression. Despite everything the siblings had been through,
Tatsuya couldn’t help but admire how those differences had made
them into such admirable people, without a single look that made
them seem inferior.
Today, Shohei's young president had come with every intention of
meeting Peach, the adorable photographer with the sweet smile. He
wanted to prove his sincerity – that he really liked Plub – and was
looking forward to enjoying a relaxed family meal. He had gone out of
his way to arrange a private restaurant, ordering mild dishes in
advance based on the

who knew about Peach's preferences and prepared everything for a

quiet and pleasant meeting.
What wasn’t in the plan, however, was the imposing igure of a half-
Thai, half-Russian man following Peach as she entered the room.
Touch recognized him immediately: Theerakit Kian Arseny, the head of
the Arseny conglomerate, Peach’s boyfriend – and most importantly –
Plub’s very protective older brother. Tatsuya hadn’t anticipated his
presence today.
"How did you get here, Thee?" Plub asked as he hurried over.
tilting her head slightly confused.
“I had some free time, so I thought I’d have lunch with you.” Thee
replied casually, looking at her. A faint smile appeared on the corner of
his lips, though Plub, in typical brother fashion, pretended not to
notice. He crossed his arms and hugged his brother tightly, as if he
were protecting him.
"Don't make excuses! Just admit that you came to steal Peach's
attention," Plub joked, hands on hips. "But today's my day! I'm taking
him back!"
"I'll lend it to you for four hours. After that, it's mine again."
"Four hours? That means he has to be home by eight!"
Plub posted dramatically, clearly not getting the point. Peach's hand
itched to tap him on the forehead, while Thee just giggled, a slight
smile tugging at her lips. His large hand rested gently on top of her
head, ruf ling her hair in a gesture both playful and comforting.
"Don't stay up so late, or you'll get sick. Your brother is already so
worried about you that he's scared to death."

The siblings exchanged a glance – Plub gave a mischievous grin, while

Peach raised an eyebrow in warning, but said nothing. “Come on, let’s
eat.” Peach inally said, leading the way to the table. Tatsuya stood up
as they approached, lashing a polite smile.
"Good afternoon, Peach. It's nice to see you again."
"Good afternoon, Mr. Touch." Peach's lips curved into a soft smile,
though it never reached her eyes. "Small world, huh? I didn't expect to
see you here."
She watched the exchange in silence, her eyebrow raised slightly. The
calm, icy demeanor that Peach exuded was something completely
unfamiliar. It was a side you had rarely seen – if ever – and it sent an
oddly tense chill through the room. For someone with Peach’s gentle,
friendly face, it was surprising how effectively she could exude a cold,
unyielding air – intimidating… even.
Thee suddenly understood how her soft-spoken boyfriend could
terrify anyone who tried to get close to Plub.
“Let’s eat, Peach! This place is amazing.” Plub chirped, quickly breaking
the thick tension. He set about piling food onto his brother’s plate.
“Stop looking at him like that – it’s just dinner. Eat, okay?”
"Okay, okay." Peach's smile softened into something more genuine as
he picked up his chopsticks, humoring her.
Across the table, Touch let out a small sigh, only half audible, and
couldn't help but think: So this is what I'm up against.
"How did you two meet?" The half-Russian mob boss clasped his
hands in front of him, looking relaxed as he asked the question in a

unreadable tone. Tatsuya could only straighten his back and show a
polite, practiced smile, while the siblings beside him continued their
little gathering – eating, tasting, and passing food to each other as if no
one else existed.
"Plub has helped me with work a few times, so we get to talking,"
Tatsuya replied calmly, keeping his voice even. But when Peach turned
her gaze to him, sharp and assessing, Tatsuya couldn't help but feel the
weight of that gaze.
Taking on the Russian mobsters seemed easier than winning over this
older brother.
Especially knowing how close these two brothers were – if Peach
disapproved, Peach would de initely falter.
And after how dif icult it had been to get this far, Tatsuya couldn't risk
being pushed back to square one.
"I didn't think someone as busy as you, Tatsuya, would have time to
pay so much attention to my sister," Peach said softly, a gentle smile on
her lips that never reached her eyes. "From what I've heard, you have
plenty of models under your care. It seems they'll keep you busy
enough as it is."
"Not at all," Tatsuya replied quickly, his tone irm and respectful.
“I never mix business with my personal life and I have never been
interested in any of the models from my agency. I can swear to that,
without a doubt.” His eyebrows furrowed slightly as he spoke, as if
emphasizing his sincerity. He had done his best to quell the rumors
before they got out of hand, but it wasn’t always possible to control
every whisper.
He meant it though. He cared deeply for Plub and didn't want
misunderstandings to get in the way.

"I've heard some things around," Peach replied ambiguously, letting

the words hang in the air before turning to her sister.
"And you, Plub? What do you think about all this?" Plub blinked at his
brother, pressing his lips into a slight pout before turning away with
exaggerated indifference.
"If I didn't care about him, I wouldn't have brought him here for you to
meet,
"Right?" the only woman at the table replied in a low tone, before
concentrating intently on shoving food into her mouth, as a way to
avoid the situation. The more she felt the gaze of the young yakuza
beside her, smiling widely, the more she avoided meeting his gaze.
That's completely annoying.
Peach frowned in irritation, a slight feeling of disgust washing over
him. No matter what, his little sister had been under his care since she
was a child. Although they had grown up and gone their separate ways,
living and working in different places, Plub would always be his little
sister.
After they inished eating, Plub, eyes shining with excitement, begged
to go to a party. She complained about how tired she was from work
and that she just wanted to relax, have some cocktails, and enjoy the
atmosphere. She even added the fact that she was the only sister in a
group of three guys, so she was perfectly safe, even if she didn't know
how safe that actually was. Peach, who had long since lost count of how
many times her puppy dog eyes had worn him down, simply sighed
and nodded. He gave in without much resistance.
Touch stood up to pay the bill, preparing to move on to the next place.
Moments earlier, he had been involved in a silent standoff with the
mobster next to him over who would pay. Of course, he, as someone
who came to greet his future brother-in-law. He was supposed to be
the one to pay. But the mobster stubbornly insisted that he shouldn't

nothing to the Shohei family, especially since Peach was his partner. No
matter what, Thee wasn't going to let him foot Peach's bill.
Apparently, the issue was more about who paid for Peach's meal than
pride. After a silent agreement, they decided to split the bill equally
and Thee reluctantly agreed.
Touch stood at the counter waiting to settle in, letting Plub, who was
about to be his girlfriend, sit in the car. Beside him, the mobster stood
with a rather unwelcoming expression. After a brief moment, Thee
stepped back, making way for Peach to take her place. Once Peach
stepped forward, Thee immediately straightened up and her
expression turned serious.
A man who had never feared anything, who had never had to worry
about anyone's opinion, now found himself feeling a strange sense of
restraint. Because Peach was Plub's brother, the person he valued
most in the world, and his only family. You felt like you had to show
some respect.
What mattered to Plub mattered to him too.
"Are you serious about my sister? Mr. Touch?" Peach asked, her voice
calm but direct, leaving no room for doubt. The simplicity of the
question made Tatsuya feel uneasy. He sat up straighter, trying his best
to look serious and collected.
"I've never been so serious with anyone in my life," Touch said, with a
slight smile, but his eyes full of resolve. The young photographer
paused for a moment, looking down and pressing his lips together
slightly.
“I’m not trying to stop you or tell you to break up.” Peach replied,
offering a small smile, her tone becoming a little friendlier. though still
guarded. “If Plub loves someone, I’ll support him.”

"I respect my sister's decisions." Touch continued to smile lightly,

letting out a deep sigh as the tension on his forehead eased.
"Thank you, I swear I'll take care of her the best I can. I won't let you
down."
He said, his voice more serious now, Peach raised her gaze to meet his,
her lips curved into a slight smile as her eyes softened.
“I don’t expect you to love my sister forever,” he said, his voice calm,
though a trace of sadness lashed in his eyes. “Love changes, it fades
with time – I understand that.” He paused for a moment, the weight of
the words hanging in the air. “But there is one thing I ask of you: please
don’t hurt her, physically or emotionally. We only have each other. It’s
been just the two of us our entire lives. I will protect her and care for
her until my last breath. So, if that day comes, please give her back to
me, don’t hurt her.”
Touch froze, a lump forming in his throat. He had learned about the
brothers' past and understood the struggles they had faced.
His hands clenched tightly and an eruption of pain hit his chest.
If only I had known her a little earlier...
“You don’t have to expect anything from me,” Tatsuya said, his
expression softening into a warm, gentle smile, his eyes lowering
slightly in relaxation. “This is something I promised myself. I love Plub.
Besides, I’ve never loved anyone like I love her. What I fear most is
causing her pain or distress – and that will never change, not for the
rest of my life.”
Peach stared at the yakuza, her gaze irm, as if trying to ind sincerity
in the other's eyes. After a moment, the young man

He looked away, his lips curved into a smile as his hand gently
squeezed Thee's arm.
"Thank you," the young photographer said, his voice tinged with a light
laugh. "From now on, you'll probably have your hands full with Plub.
She's very stubborn, even spoiled, but I'm sure you'll be able to handle
it. Just be careful with her pranks."
"It's too late for that. I've already been a victim of them many times."
Tatsuya responded with a smile. Peach couldn't help but laugh softly at
that. They walked side by side out of the restaurant, but before Peach
could get too far, a taller igure pulled him close and wrapped an arm
around his waist.
“Are you done talking?” Thee’s voice was calm, but her tone suggested
there was more. Her arm around Peach’s waist was tight. almost to
the point where his muscles visibly tensed.
Peach nodded without commenting on the slight wait. She had gotten
used to it and no longer cared. Thee caught the look on her face and a
small knowing smile appeared on her lips before she looked towards
the yakuza following him.
"Plub is Arseny's youngest daughter... my little sister," he said, his tone
hardening slightly as the weight of his words settled in.
It was clear that the message was not just casual information. Tatsuya
paused for a split second, feeling the full force of those words. He
immediately understood that this was not just a statement – it was a
warning.
He smiled slightly, his face serious, fully aware of what the other man
meant.
It seemed like the road ahead in her relationship with Plub had
become a lot more complicated.

SPECIAL CALL FOR ATTENTION #3

A chic rooftop restaurant-bar in the heart of the city was where Plub
decided to bring them. The young woman lashed a wide smile and
said it was her favorite spot. The only downside? The prices were so
high they would practically make you bleed.
But hey, a semi-fancy place that sold A5 grade beef
It wasn't going to be cheap, was it?
"When have you been here? How come I don't know this place?" Peach
crossed his arms and frowned in slight annoyance. Plub always called
him whenever he went out drinking, not that it was a rule or anything.
Still, knowing that he hadn't told her made her feel a mix of irritated
and worried.
“I came with my team,” Plub replied innocently, her doe eyes lickering
at him as she hugged his arm and rubbed her cheek against it, trying to
butter him up. “It was a farewell party after wrapping up a project with
Shohei’s company. The team was from another company, so I didn’t
know anyone well. I just sat there like a wall lower, didn’t even touch
the alcohol, came and left in a lash, so I didn’t think to call you, but I
loved this place so much that I wanted to bring you here this time!”
Peach let out a long sigh and waved her into the restaurant. Walking
beside Plub was Touch, who stuck to her like a shadow. His ridiculously
handsome face was covered in a smug smile, so smug it was almost
infuriating.
"You like this place, huh?" Touch asked, leaning in slightly, his eyes
shining with interest.

"Yes, I love it. The food is amazing, the atmosphere is great and the
music is nice. I'm not a fan of crowded and cramped places, but this
place is just perfect."
"Would you like to have it?" Touch asked softly, his tone almost
mocking. "If it was yours, you could eat here for free, you know? Plus, if
you feel like hanging out after hours, there's a private suite ready and
waiting for you 24/07."
Plub leaned back slightly, his eyes narrowing in mock suspicion, a
mocking smile playing at the corner of his lips.
"What's this? Are you planning on buying the place from me? I can't
afford to pay you in installments, you know?"
"Who said anything about dues? I wouldn't charge you a cent." Touch
shook his head and his smile grew even wider. "All you'd have to do is
date the owner. That's practically the same as owning him, don't you
think? Come here whenever you want, eat whatever you want, stay as
late as you want, it's all yours."
Plub stood frozen for a moment, blinking rapidly as if trying to process
his words. Then, she gaped and pointed at him in shock.
"Wait! You're the owner?"
"Yes," he said, his smile widening until his eyes sparkled with mischief.
"I started this place before I got into modeling. I'm so glad you like it."
He bowed slightly. "Just say yes to going out with me and this place will
be yours."
“That’s called bribery,” Plub said with a soft laugh, though his tone was
more amused than accusatory. Touch responded with a mischievous
grin, his eyes sparkling with playful intent.

"I'd call it a special promotional offer," he replied, puf ing out his chest
as if he were proud of his speech. "Go out with me and I guarantee
you'll get more than your money's worth."
"I think it's time we go inside."
Peach cut off with an exasperated sigh, arms crossed as she watched
the sickeningly sweet exchange unfold. As much as she grudgingly
approved of Touch as a potential brother-in-law, watching him
whisper sweet nothings to her little sister still got on her nerves.
"My apologies, big brother," Touch replied cheerfully before turning to
Thee, who was nearby with her own companion. "And also my
apologies to my future brother-in-law."
Thee's lips curved into a slight, satis ied smile. Without a word, she
pushed Peach forward, urging him to follow the pair inside.
If Touch was going to acknowledge him as a brother-in-law, Thee
thought he could tolerate him as a future brother-in-law for now.
Touch led them up to the mezzanine, which was entirely reserved for
VIPs. The space oozed exclusivity, with only the kind of people whose
net worth couldn’t be easily calculated lounging around. The open area
featured about seven sets of sofas, all spaced out enough to allow for
privacy. In one corner, there was a modestly sized bar counter where
drinks were prepared for high-pro ile guests.
The moment the four of them stepped onto the mezzanine, it was as if
the air itself was frozen. For a brief moment, all that could be heard
was the sound of the cool evening breeze whistling faintly through the
night. Almost

Every pair of eyes in the room turned toward the newcomers, though
most only dared to glance furtively out of the corner of their eyes.
Who could demand more attention than the members of the Arseny
family –
the infamous Russian ma ia royalty – who arrives alongside the heir to
a major yakuza clan and the owner of this very establishment?
Weren't these two supposed to be rivals?
Thee glanced at the person beside her, noticing Peach’s slight frown
and the awkward tension in her posture. Not saying anything, Thee
simply looked up and swept the room with a slow, icy gaze. The silent
warning was enough to make the onlookers lower their gaze in unison
and retreat to their own spaces. The creepy smile Touch wore as he led
the group didn’t help matters – it was the kind of smile that sent a
shiver down your spine.
Neither Peach nor her sister seemed aware of the heavy atmosphere
hanging over them, only noticing that the curious eyes had inally
receded, Peach exhaled softly, relief crossing her face as she turned her
attention back to the sight around her.
Touch led them to a semi-private nook where a set of sofas awaited
them near the balcony. The spot offered an uninterrupted view of the
city lights, which spread out below like a sea of sparkling stars. From
the lower level, the soft strains of live music drifted up on the breeze,
loud enough to set the mood without drowning out conversation.
Peach silently watched the couple sitting on the opposite sofa. Their
voices were soft, the woman's head resting naturally against the man's
shoulder. Her arm stretched along the back of the sofa, without

touching her fully, but close enough to feel protective. It was intimate
without being overbearing, like they it together effortlessly.
His gaze lingered on his sister's smile, her carefree laughter echoing
softly in the air. For a moment, his eyes softened.
“He’s not so bad, is he?” Thee wrapped an arm around his shoulders,
gently pulling him closer. Her deep voice whispered close to his ear, as
if reading his thoughts. “From what I understand, his background is
compatible. He’s ambitious, intelligent – a rising star worth keeping an
eye on.”
"I can't help but worry, that's all," Peach admitted, though the corner of
her lips quirked into a small smile.
As long as Plub could keep smiling like that, he wouldn't stand in her
way.
"It's okay." Thee assured her in a calm, irm tone. Her ingers traced
soft, reassuring patterns on Peach's shoulder, "We'll take care of her
together. You're not alone in this."
Peach's smile widened as she leaned into Thee's shoulder, feeling the
tension drain from her body. A laugh escaped her lips as an old
conversation with the mob boss popped into her mind.
He once said that he had to teach his son not to learn languages from
soap operas.
Before long, the food arrived, mostly light snacks and appetizers, as
they had already eaten before. Still, each dish screamed luxury, nothing
remotely close to being cheap.
Plub's eyes sparkled as she took in the vibrant cocktails on the menu.
Slowly, she looked up at her brother sitting across from her.

Peach pretended not to notice at irst, but the moment she came over
and snuggled up to him, he let out a long, resigned sigh.
"A drink," he relented.
"But tomorrow is a day off," she protested, wrapping her slender arms
around his. Looking up at him with a wide, hopeful smile, she added,
"Make it three. I promise to pick the ones with the least alcohol.
Scout's honor."
"You'll end up complaining of a headache tomorrow." Peach said,
exasperated, but in the end, he sighed again, this time looking at
Touch, who was watching the scene with amused eyes. "Whatever I
choose, you must irst approve it from Mr. Touch. And remember, only
three, as agreed."
The young woman nodded enthusiastically before approaching her
boyfriend with the menu in her hand. Peach remained in her seat,
sipping her soda in silence, her ears attentive to the conversation.
When he heard Touch irmly veto any drink with too much alcohol, a
wave of relief washed over him.
The group continued to chat over their meal, and the atmosphere
gradually became more relaxed. The ma ia heir and the young yakuza
animatedly exchanged business ideas.
Despite being technically competitors, there was no enmity between
them, just a mutual respect that made their discussions interesting
and productive.
"Peach, let's go take some photos!" Plub suddenly turned to his
brother, clearly fed up with following the high-level business talk. His

Slender ingers tugged at his arm in excitement. “The atmosphere here

is wonderful. I have to post this on my story!”
Peach nodded, standing up and brie ly placing a hand on Thee's hands
in apology. Thee raised an eyebrow, but then slowly nodded in
approval, letting the siblings leave the table. Peach began snapping
pictures near the balcony, taking nearly ten photos before she was
inally satis ied. She then dragged her brother down to the lower level.
The music was louder downstairs, the pounding beats making Peach
frown slightly. The crowd wasn’t as packed thanks to the well-spaced
tables, but it was still busy enough to make moving through the crowd
a challenge.
The siblings inally came to a lovely little spot beneath a large tree.
From its branches hung a swing made of woven rattan, with strings of
tiny fairy lights strung above it, twinkling like stars against the leaves.
Plub smiled and immediately jumped onto the swing, giggling as he
swung. Peach chuckled softly, taking out her phone to take some
pictures of him, something she had done so many times that it felt
second nature to her.
“Hello, beautiful. Free to talk?” A deep, unfamiliar voice from behind
made Peach lower her phone, her body instinctively turning towards
the source. There stood a young man, not particularly tall, with pale
skin and slicked-back brown hair, revealing a sharp forehead.
A faint scent of alcohol reached Peach's nose. The guy wasn't
completely drunk, but he was de initely drunk enough to cause trouble.

“Have we met?” Peach asked, his voice calm and steady, as he subtly
took a step back and pushed his sister behind him. The air around
them was far from friendly.
“No, not yet,” the man replied with a deft smile, his slightly glazed eyes
– evidence of the alcohol – ixed on Plub. He moved closer, closing the
gap bit by bit. “But I’d really like to. My name is Porsche Tanisorn. And
the lovely lady behind you, would you mind introducing us?”
Peach’s eyebrows furrowed brie ly. Tanisorn? The name sounded
familiar. He was from a wealthy family in the luxury car import
business, a big name in the industry. Peach had encountered him
before during some of her past jobs as a model in car promotions.
But why would someone like him want to meet Plub?
Without missing a beat, Peach discreetly pressed a button on her
phone to make a call, slipping the device into her pocket as she forced
a slight smile. Her tone remained calm, but took on a subtle hint of
wariness.
"Nice to meet the heir to Tanisorn Enterprises. But my sister and I are
just ordinary people – not exactly someone important enough for you
to bother with us."
“Oh, is that so?” Porsche chuckled, feigning indifference, but his steps
didn’t stop. He was getting closer. “Funny, though, you two just came
down from the mezzanine, right? That’s the VIP section. How did you
manage to get in there?”

“Someone invited us.” Peach replied latly, her expression unchanged

as her eyes quickly searched for an escape route. Her priority was
clear – to keep Plub safe, no matter what.
“Oh, I get it. You’re an escort.” The accusation snapped Peach’s head
back to him, and the faint smile disappeared in an instant. Her face
darkened, her tension palpable.
"Watch your mouth when you talk about my sister," Peach warned, her
voice low and high, cold enough to freeze the air around her.
Porsche hesitated for a moment, visibly taken aback by Peach's sudden
change. But surprise quickly turned to irritation and his expression
soured.
“Why? Did I say something wrong?” Porsche snapped, raising his voice
in a desperate attempt to mask the fear creeping into his tone. “A VIP
probably hired you as an escort, right? That’s how you managed to get
there.” His words were venomous, but it was clear that he was trying
to regain control of the situation. “What do you say? If you’re free, why
don’t you take a job with me? I’ll pay you well, I promise.”
- very good".
Peach’s hands shook with barely contained rage, her jaw clenched so
tightly that her cheekbones visibly strained. Deciding it wasn’t worth
arguing, she grabbed her sister’s hand with the intention of walking
away. But Porsche lunged forward, her arm shooting out at Peach by
the shoulder and spinning him around with a sharp yank. The sharp
pain sent a jolt through Peach, leaving him momentarily stunned, his
body cold and his face draining of color.
Before she could react, Porsche's grip disappeared. Out of the corner of
her eye, Peach saw the man go lying. One moment Porsche was
sneering and the next he was in the air, though
Peach didn't even realize what hit him. Before the shock could

Fully registering, Peach was drawn into a irm, familiar embrace that
blocked out everything else – the noise, the people, even the lingering
fear.
The scent of light cologne and aftershave – a scent he knew well –
enveloped him, as did the steady warmth of Thee’s arms. The tension
in his body began to ease, though his hands still shook.
“Peach, are you hurt anywhere?” Plub asked, his voice illed with
concern as he tried to control him. But his efforts were thwarted by
Thee’s unyielding hold. The mob boss had him wrapped up so tightly
that there was barely room for anyone else to breathe.
"You handle it. This is your place," Thee said, his voice low and ice-
cold, almost menacing. Peach couldn't see Thee's face, but the aura
radiating from him made it clear that he was furious, angrier than
Peach had ever seen him before.
"Don't worry, I'll take care of this. Please take care of Peach, Mr. Thee."
Touch's reply came, his voice carrying a chill that sent a cold current
down Peach's spine. Though he was still nestled against Thee's chest,
he could feel the irm, comforting caresses of Thee's hand moving
gently across his back. Thee let out a few more commands, his tone so
sharp Peach couldn't quite catch the words, and then those strong
arms began to guide him away from the scene with careful
deliberation.
Peach came to his senses as the mob boss gently sat him down on a
couch. It seemed Thee had carried him to one of the club’s guest
rooms. The larger man backed away slightly, then knelt in front of him.
Thee’s strong hands cupped Peach’s shaking ones, kneading them
gently as if to push away any lingering remnants.

"It's okay," Thee murmured, her voice deep and soft and comforting.
The icy edge from a moment ago had completely vanished. "There's
nothing to worry about anymore. I'm here, Peach."
Peach remained silent, his gaze ixed on Thee's face. The man knelt
before him ever so carefully, gently rubbing and pressing his palms in a
soothing rhythm, all the while murmuring reassuring words.
In truth, it was Thee's embrace that had calmed Peach's agitated heart.
The fear that had consumed him moments before seemed to
evaporate in the warmth of that embrace. It was as if he had found an
anchor in the midst of the storm.
Thee had an undeniable hold on him, something vast, overwhelming,
and inescapable.
“Thank you. I feel better now.” Peach said softly, her lips curling into a
small, sweet smile. She gently tugged on Thee’s hand, urging him to sit
beside her. When Thee complied, Peach rested her head on the man’s
strong shoulder, letting herself relax as Thee’s arm wrapped around
her to keep him close.
"Plub must have told you," Peach guessed, her voice soft but teasing.
Thee hesitated, not knowing if Peach would be angry. Noticing the
slight change in Thee's demeanor, Peach lightly patted the back of her
hand, offering quiet comfort before speaking again.
"I'm not upset. I always knew I had... problems. I just never talked about
them. I didn't think they were serious enough to interfere with my
daily life, but I guess Plub could tell."

"She told me because she's worried about you," Thee explained quietly,
concern still in her tone. "I've hurt you before, and she warned me to
be careful. She's right. I would never want to do anything that could
hurt you again."
Peach's lips curved into a tender smile. Hearing those words made her
cheeks heat up, though she wouldn't admit it. She leaned her head
back, resting it against Thee's broad chest, savoring the feeling of calm
that settled over him without the need for further words.
Peach feared he was addicted to this warmth.
"That woman's new husband is like a vicious demon," she said softly,
her eyes distant, as if they were lost in an ancient, deep memory she
had long hidden away. "In the eyes of a small child, that man is huge –
like a giant, his hands that strike, his legs that kick – everything is
terrifying. It hurts so much, as if I couldn't breathe."
Peach felt the tension in the person she was leaning on, but simply
smiled softly, carrying on as if nothing had happened.
"When I face moments like that again, I sometimes feel like watching
the other person grow into something huge, and I stay so small. It's
like being that child again, with that monstrous giant tormenting me,
leaving me powerless. No matter what I do, I can't ight back. It will
hurt until I can't breathe, just like back then."
"I'm sorry." She murmured, hugging Peach. Her chin rested lightly on
Peach's head, gently swaying in a comforting motion. Peach pressed
her nose against the corner of her head.

Thee, absorbing the familiar, soft scent that helped her body relax.
"Sorry for what, Kian? You didn't do anything wrong," Peach replied
softly, tilting her head up to look Thee in the eyes. Her smile was wide
and her eyes narrowed slightly to ease Thee's concern.
"I have caused you such painful memories," Thee said with a silent
sigh. "I should have met you sooner."
"If we had met at a different time or place, we might not have become
lovers," Peach said softly, her smile reassuring, "But it's okay now."
“It’s okay now. You’ve been so strong. You’ve broken free.” Thee nodded
seriously, her hand gently stroking Peach’s hair, who shook her head
slightly, a small smile still lingering.
"Peach was freed thanks to you. I know you would never hurt me. That
scary giant will never come back as long as I'm with you."
The mob boss stared into Peach's clear, bright eyes, his large hand
gently cupping her cheek. His sharp demeanor softened into
something tender and comforting, an expression only he could
witness.
"I swear to protect you no matter what," Thee said softly, stepping
closer. Her lips gently brushed Peach's, a touch tender and sweet as a
drop of morning dew.
Peach accepted the kiss willingly, her chest warm and full. She could
feel the love in your touch.

This may not be a fairy tale where happiness lasts forever. But at least
if the terrifying giant appears again, he won't have to face it alone.

SPECIAL CALL FOR ATTENTION #4

At irst, Peach was quite anxious about Mhok and Marn. She couldn't
predict how the young mob boss would react to all this.
Although adopting orphans had always been something she had
planned to do from the beginning – and she had no intention of
changing her mind –
It still made him uncomfortable. In truth, he had even prepared himself
for the possibility that if his wife or partner didn't agree with the idea,
he could support the children in other ways.
But deep down, Peach knew better than anyone what these orphans
really needed: the love of a real family. Just like he and Thee had always
longed to grow up.
“Dad, can I put this on the table now?” twelve-year-old Mhok asked as
he grabbed a plate from the counter. His youthful voice, not yet
cracked, held a tone of responsibility beyond his years.
"Of course, thank you very much. Mhok," Peach replied with a small
smile, letting her adopted son carry the plate without intervening to
stop him.
“Then I’ll take this one!” nine-year-old Marn chimed in as her tiny
frame climbed two small steps to stand beside her brother. She
pointed with her pinky inger at a large white serving bowl, her big
round eyes looking expectantly and wordlessly asking for permission.
Peach smiled again and instead grabbed a stack of four empty plates
and handed them over.
"That one's a little heavy and pretty hot too. Why don't you carry these
to the table for me? Can you help me prepare them too?"

"Of course, I remember how to do it!" said the little girl, nodding
happily, reaching out to take the plates with delight.
"Thanks, sweetie. Be careful on your way down, okay? Watch your
step," Peach said as he watched her carefully ascend the steps. Only
then did he turn to follow Mhok, who had been waiting to walk with
him side by side.
Peach never stopped the children when they wanted to help. The most
he would ever do was offer a few words of warning to be careful. And
whenever they did something good, whether it was helping him or
Thee, he always made a point to thank them. Because of that, the
house was constantly illed with smiles and a warm sense of pride
radiating from the two little ones.
But the one who seemed most affected was the young mob boss
himself. After discussing parenting styles with Peach, Thee agreed
wholeheartedly with his approach. It made sense, given that Arseny
had grown up learning to fend for himself as well. He didn’t have a
doting nanny like most rich kids. His father had insisted that he grow
up tough and self-suf icient.
Still, Thee’s overprotective nature came through strongly when the
children arrived, and he practically overhauled their entire living
situation. They moved out of the condominium and into a stand-alone
house on the quiet outskirts of town, surrounded by nature. For added
security, their closest neighbors were families of Thee’s most trusted
men.
The house was transformed to make it completely child-friendly. Every
fragile or heavy item – plates, bowls, and even glasses – was replaced
with lightweight, shatterproof versions. Expensive, fancy dishes were
locked away, and all utensils were replaced with rounded ones to avoid
sharp edges. Knives never made it to the kitchen.

dining room table except for a dull butter knife, and if steak was on the
menu, Peach would cut it, in the kitchen beforehand.
Beyond the kitchen, nearly every aspect of the house was childproofed.
There were little step stools for kids to reach the sink and toilet,
corners covered with padded bumpers, plush carpeting on the stairs,
non-slip mats in the bathroom, and much more. The place no longer
looked in the slightest bit like the luxurious home of a Russian mob
boss.
And that made Peach happier than words could express.
After placing the pan in the sink, Peach decided to get back to cleaning
up after dinner. Thee’s protective streak had only gotten worse since
the children arrived. He was reluctant to let anyone outside the family
into their lives. Even the housekeeper was only allowed to come once a
week under the strict supervision of a bodyguard. Other days, Peach
took care of everything himself.
Peach still took photography jobs, though far fewer than before. Most
of her time was now devoted to her two children.
Ironically, despite working less, his skills had only become more
re ined, resulting in his bookings being extended two years in advance
– and at sky-high prices.
Still, Peach was Peach. She chose jobs based on what she liked, not the
price. And now, with the mob boss's bottomless wallet at her disposal,
inancial worries were a thing of the past.
Peach dried his hands before picking up the bowl of white rice and
heading to the table. Cooking hadn’t been his forte – he could barely
get by with simple survival skills like frying an egg. But after becoming
a father to two children at once, with a husband who could give him a
piercing, expectant look, he slowly learned to cook for himself.
He was nowhere near a ive-star chef, but it didn't matter. His children
and husband always smiled at him, lashing their thumbs up
enthusiastically before devouring each bite, sometimes to the point of
practically licking their plates clean.
"I'll take that." A deep, low voice next to his ear brought him out of his
thoughts. Peach looked up and smiled, letting you take the bowl from
her hands.
"Have the kids inished setting the table?" Peach asked as they walked
side by side. She looked at him and a slight smile appeared on the
corner of her lips.
"Not quite. Mhok wanted to do it alone, so I thought I'd help you."
Peach nodded and together they headed to the dining table. Four sets
of plates and glasses had been placed, albeit a little askew and a little
messy. But Peach and Thee still showered the siblings with praise,
causing Mok and Marn to smile so wide that their cheeks puffed out.
Once everyone was settled, Peach served rice for each of them before
taking a seat. The table was medium-sized, square, and simple, with
four chairs, two on each side. You sat next to Mok, while Peach sat
across from him, next to Marn.
"So how are you doing? It's been a month since school started,
"No?" Thee asked, her voice soft, with the unmistakable tone of a
father talking to his children. Peach looked at Marn, who was currently
chewing on a huge mouthful of meatball, his cheeks round as a
chipmunk's, and couldn't help but smile.
They weren't very strict about table manners. In fact, mealtimes had
become a space for family bonding and casual conversations. At irst,
Thee had seemed uncomfortable, not

knowing what to say or how to act. But after a month or two,

everything had fallen into place, it felt natural and easy in a way that
now seemed completely normal.
"It's okay, Dad. No problem," Mhok said calmly, though the slight glint
in his eyes betrayed a subtle smile. "Next Sunday we'll have a sports
day. I signed up for the sprint race."
“A race, huh? What date is that?” Thee’s eyebrows furrowed as she
immediately grabbed her tablet to open the calendar. Mhok stepped
closer, pointing at the date on the screen. Without missing a beat, the
young mob boss grabbed his phone and began dialing.
Mr. Thee had recently changed assistants. Mok had been reassigned to
work closely with
Rome, Thee’s younger brother, who had assumed leadership of the
Arseny crime family. In Mok’s place, Thee had brought in Raf, a new
assistant from Russia who had arrived to take over.
"Cancel all appointments for next Sunday... Yes, all. It's a very important
matter, no exceptions. And make a reservation at…"
Thee recited the name of Mhok's favorite restaurant with practiced
ease.
Peach sat listening to the conversation, a small smile playing on her
lips.
Thee had fully embraced them as his family. He had promised, from the
beginning, that family would always come irst for him, and he had
never broken his word.
"That's amazing, Mhok! Looks like you've been practicing a lot," Peach
said, turning her attention back to her son to let him inish his call.

Mhok looked at him, his eyes shining with excitement. He even stuck
out his chest a little, proud of his progress.
"Yeah! I've been practicing every night and my times are getting better
and better!" Mok replied, grinning from ear to ear. Trying not to be an
adult only made him all the more endearing, as Peach came over and
ruf led his hair lovingly.
“Well done, Mhok. Do your best, but be careful, okay? No accidents,”
Peach said warmly, Mhok nodding enthusiastically before diving into
her plate again. Peach then turned to the little girl sitting next to her.
“And what about you, Marn? What’s your role next Sunday?” she asked
softly, looking at her with a smile.
"I'm going to be a cheerleader on Sunday," Marn announced with a
wide smile that lifted her round, rosy cheeks adorably. "Teacher said I
can wear a luffy dress!"
Peach’s lips curved into a warm smile at his con ident words. He and
Thee always spoke to the children clearly and directly, never using
baby talk. This approach helped them quickly acquire vocabulary just
by listening and remembering. It was something Peach took great
pride in – to be honest, he and Thee were proud of everything about
their two little ones.
"Really? I can't wait to see it! I bet it'll look absolutely adorable on you,
sweetheart," he said, beaming. Just imagining his little girl twirling
around in a puffy princess dress made his heart swell with affection.
Their children were the cutest in the world!

“So daddy and papa have to come to the event, okay?” Marn said as she
leaned over to hug his arm. Her big, round eyes turned to Thee across
the table, shining with a mix of excitement and pleading. “You have to
cheer for Mhok with me and you also have to come see me all dressed
up, okay?”
"Of course. Dad wouldn't miss it. Is there anything you want me to get
you?"
Thee replied, the corner of her mouth raised in a small smile.
His other hand reached out to gently ruf le Mhok's hair in a rare,
tender moment.
The mob boss had been smiling a lot more often lately, even if it was
small, subtle smiles. To the outside world, he was still the same ierce,
stoic CEO, but at home, these brief lashes of warmth had become a
familiar sight to his little family.
Marn raised her hand excitedly, her bright eyes shining with
excitement as her cheeks puffed out even more from her smile.
"Ice cream! It's going to be really hot on sports day. We have to eat ice
cream!"
Peach’s hand shot out to grab Thee’s wrist just as the man reached for
his phone. She narrowed her eyes in warning, a silent reprimand.
"And what exactly do you plan to do, Kian?"
“I was going to book an ice cream truck for the event.” He paused for a
moment, his brow furrowing slightly. “Or I could just buy the whole
store and set it up at the event. That would save me the trouble of
booking it every time.”

Peach raised her other hand to rub her temple, sighing deeply.
One thing about Thee that hadn't changed one bit was his tendency to
throw money away like water, leaving Peach as the perpetual voice of
reason. And to make matters worse, no one else seemed willing to stop
him.
It was exhausting.
"No way. Too much ice cream will rot their teeth. Plus, if they ill up on
candy, they won't eat and will end up with stomach aches."
Addressing his daughter, he softened his tone but kept his authority
intact.
"I'll buy ice cream for you two myself, but as per the usual deal."
– just one for each, okay?
Both children responded with a loud, enthusiastic "Okay!"
Restoring the cheerful mood at the table. But the peace didn’t last long.
A moment later, Mhok straightened up, frowning as he turned to grab
Thee’s arm and gave her a small shake to get her attention.
"Dad. I have something important to report," Mhok said in a serious
tone. His narrowed eyes and set jaw made him look strikingly like
Thee, and Peach had to ight the urge to laugh.
“What is it?” Thee asked, her usual calm expression sharpening with
interest. “Yesterday,” Mok began, lowering her voice, “someone kissed
Marn on the cheek.”
The atmosphere at the table instantly changed. Thee’s eyes widened
and her faint smile vanished as if a switch had been lipped. Peach
blinked in confusion and turned to Marn, who was sitting beside her
with an innocent expression on her face.
"Is that true, honey?" Peach asked softly, though a thread of unease
was beginning to rise in her chest.

Marn, blissfully unaware of the tension building around her, nodded

without hesitation, her expression as innocent as ever. But that small
gesture seemed to ignite a spark. The atmosphere, once bright and
warm, now seemed to be simmering, on the verge of boiling over.
“Who was it?” Thee growled, his voice low and menacing. The edge of
anger was barely concealed, and he bit his lip as if trying to hold back a
string of curses. Peach considered stepping in to calm him down, but
Mhok, now completely unfazed by his father’s intimidating behavior,
replied bluntly, his own voice thick with disgust.
“It was a boy from my class. His name is San. He came to watch
cheerleading practice, but Marn in her luffy dress said she looked cute
and kissed her on the cheek.” Mhok replied curtly, his face scrunched
up in a grimace. His little sister hadn’t even let him see her
cheerleading out it yet – she’d said she wanted to surprise him on
sports day.
And now some random boy had not only seen her irst, but had also
kissed her? Unacceptable.
"He's just a kid. He probably didn't mean anything by it. Calm down,
okay?"
Peach said, trying to calm the situation as she placed a gentle hand on
Thee's.
“Isn’t it allowed to kiss on the cheek?” Marn, sitting wide-eyed and
confused in the middle of the conversation, inally spoke up. She tilted
her head in innocent curiosity before adding, “But he said it was
because I’m cute and he likes me a lot, so he gave me a kiss. Isn’t that a
good thing?”

“It’s not allowed,” Thee stated irmly, clenching her jaw as she
struggled to keep her voice steady and not sound too harsh. “If it’s not
me, Dad, or Mok, no one is allowed to touch you. Understood?”
Peach let out a long sigh and held up a hand to signal you to stop before
his temper got the better of him. Ignoring the deep frown on his
partner's face, he turned to Marn with a soft smile and asked gently,
"Honey,
"Can I give you a hug?" Marn nodded enthusiastically and threw herself
into her arms. Peach hugged her tightly, her hand stroking her hair in
slow, soothing movements before pulling away. Meeting her curious
gaze, she spoke in a irm, serious tone, making sure she understood.
"Mok. Marn, listen to me carefully," she said in a gentle but irm voice.
"Your bodies are important and they belong to you, only you. No one
has the right to touch you unless you say it's okay. Even when Daddy
and I want to hug you, we ask irst, right?" Both children nodded,
though Marn still looked a little unsure. Peach continued, "If anyone
tries to touch you or kiss you without your permission, I want you to
run away and tell Daddy or me right away. Do you understand?"
“But what if I say it’s okay? Then it’s okay, right?” Marn tilted her head,
her innocent curiosity returning. Before Peach could respond, Mhok
shouted, “No, it’s not!” at the same time the sharp crack of glass
breaking could be heard. Peach didn’t need to look to know that Thee
had just crushed her glass in her hand, again.
He sighed internally. And this one was a thick one, too.
Peach chose to ignore the two angry men and focused on Marn, tucking
a strand of hair behind his ear and replying softly.

"Not yet, sweetheart. Not until you're older. For now, aside from our
family, no one else can do that. Can you promise me that?" Marn looked
at the pinky Peach held out to her, her small face lighting up with a
bright, cheerful smile that crinkled her eyes into adorable crescents.
Without hesitation, she hooked her pinky with his.
"I promise!"
"You promised me, Kian."
Peach said, crossing her arms and squinting at her companion. He was
busy adjusting his sleek black suit, making sure the fabric hugged his
broad frame perfectly. His silver-streaked hair was slicked back, fully
revealing his serious, sharp features. The look was polished, imposing
– it for an evening gala or a high-stakes business negotiation.
The problem? They weren't headed to a cocktail party. They were on
their way to their kids' sports day.
"Of course," Thee replied evenly, still focused on ixing his handcuffs.
"I'm not going to bother a twelve-year-old boy,
TRUE?"
"So why are you dressed like that?"
"Well, I have to look impeccable for the kids' event. I can't let the other
parents outshine me, right?"
Peach groaned and pinched the bridge of her nose before letting out a
long sigh. These conversations were getting more absurd by the day.
“The event is outside. At noon. In Thailand. Do you realize how hot it’s
going to be?”
If you suffer from heat stroke, don't wait for me to take you to the
doctor."

She paused and looked at her out it. Her eyebrows furrowed, a strange
lash of doubt crossing her face. Peach, seeing an opening, glanced at
her watch before making her move. She walked over to the wardrobe
and pulled out something more suited to the scorching Thai sun – a
simple, casual out it.
Handing you the clothes, Peach tilted her head and tried a gentler
approach.
"I picked it out especially for you. Won't you wear it? Please!"
That was all it took. Thee turned around and headed to the changing
room without another word. A few minutes later, she emerged again,
wearing a simple black T-shirt and navy blue skinny jeans. But, as
expected, she had added a dark brown blazer to the out it, giving it a
touch of formality.
Peach exhaled deeply. Well, at least it wasn't the whole night anymore.
Small victories, he thought, resigning himself to letting it go.
I would take it off when it got too hot.
Peach, having made up her mind, headed straight to the kitchen.
to prepare breakfast for the family. At the very least, the children
needed well-stocked lunch boxes – today was going to be a busy and
energetic day for everyone.
By the time Peach inished packing the food, the children were wide
awake. Thee had already taken them to the bathroom. Thanks to their
early years in an orphanage, both Mhok and Marn were remarkably
independent. They could get ready on their own, which meant that
neither Peach nor Thee had to hover over them.
Thee returned downstairs, one hand holding Mhok as she walked
beside him, while her other arm cradled Marn carefully. Peach,

After carefully lining up the children's lunch boxes in their bags, he met
them halfway. He leaned down and planted a kiss on them, each of the
children marking it as a morning greeting.
"You can eat on the way. I've already prepared everything for you,"
Peach said, smiling as she reached out to stroke Marn's hair. She
noticed that she still looked rather sleepy.
"Are you okay, honey? You'll need all your energy today to cheer up
Mhok."
“I’m ine!” Marn nodded irmly before turning to wrap her arms around
her brother, forcing you to set her down on the ground. “Go. Mhok!”
You can do it! I'll be cheering you on"
Mhok hugged her back, a shy smile appearing on her face, her cheeks
tinted slightly pink. Peach couldn't help but laugh at the sight before
pushing everyone towards the door. "Alright, let's get going or we'll be
late." Thee grabbed the bag Peach had packed and followed the rest of
the group.
Being a man who valued his privacy, Thee always made sure that on his
days off, or during family outings, all of his regular bodyguards were
sent home. Only those who were absolutely necessary for security
purposes stayed, and even then they kept their distance.
So naturally, getting the family to and from school became Thee’s
responsibility – one he didn’t mind taking on.
As they traveled the familiar route, Thee navigated it with ease. After
all, she picked up Mok and Marn after school quite often.
But today, instead of parking the sleek black European car in front of
the school as usual, they drove it straight onto the grounds. The car
inally stopped near the large football ield behind the main school
building.

The international private school Thee had chosen for the children
offered everything one could imagine: state-of-the-art classrooms, a
fully equipped sports complex, tennis courts, a swimming pool, and an
activity space where the children could freely engage in their favorite
sport, hobbies. There was even a stage with a professional sound
system and a skate zone.
Of course, all this came at a high price. When Peach irst heard about
the tuition fees, she was shocked, not expecting such an extravagant
choice. But Thee stood her ground, insisting that
"buying a good social environment" for the children was perfectly
reasonable.
He had the money and was more than willing to invest it to ensure the
best possible future for them.
Although Peach had her reservations, she eventually relented, trusting
Thee's judgment. All she could do was hope that one day the children
would not have to rely on such astronomical sums of money to secure
a bright future.
The car stopped and Thee parked it smoothly. A few bodyguard
vehicles followed at a respectable distance, parked two spaces away to
keep an eye on the area without interfering.
The children bowed politely to their parents – a habit they had
acquired after just a couple of lessons – and then held hands, laughing
and skipping off to the school sports day festivities.
Those kids had such good manners. They could do it well after being
taught a few times.
He stood with his arms crossed and one hand constantly pressing his
phone, which surprised him. Normally, when

He was with his family, the young gangster rarely touched his phone
unless it was something really important. He usually didn't pay
attention to it, but some kind of feeling was warning him, so he
stepped back slightly and checked the phone in his sturdy hand.
Realizing that he was being watched, Thee not only didn't look away,
but deliberately moved his hand so that his partner could see clearly.
The feeling of being controlled by your partner felt like this!
Thee thought to himself with a sense of excitement and joy. However,
as he checked his phone, his face suddenly darkened again.
“What are you looking at?” Peach asked, her eyebrows furrowed
slightly.
From what she could see, the screen was illed with detailed
information about someone, to the point that Peach couldn't
understand it all. The feeling of unease in her gut grew stronger.
"Enemy information. Nothing to worry about," Thee replied casually, a
slight smile tugging at her lips. "It's always good to know what you're
up against."
"What enemy?"
"The family of the boy named San," Thee replied, her tone lat.
Peach gave him a tired look before snatching the phone from Thee’s
hand. She locked the screen with a click and placed the phone back into
Thee’s hand, all without saying a word. Then, with a irm tug, she
guided him towards the sports ield.
The parent seating area was even more crowded than they expected.
Most of the parents were mothers, gathered in small groups.

groups chatting. The two tall men walking quickly became the center
of attention. But since Thee and Peach often took turns picking up
their children, and rarely let the bodyguards take care of them, the
mothers who were there regularly were not surprised at all.
Those who seemed most surprised were the parents who did not
usually show sips and preferred to send their nannies to look after
their children.
"Peach, hello!" A mother called out and Peach greeted her with a smile.
She recognized her as the mother of one of Mhok's classmates.
They had exchanged pleasantries earlier, though they hadn't really had
much conversation. "I heard that Mhok will be taking part in today's
race,
"Right?" she asked.
"That's right." Peach replied with a smile. "Marn will be cheering him
on. What about your son? What is he competing in?"
As Peach spoke, Thee had already found a seat and was scanning the
area, concentrating intently on inding her children.
"Lock is competing in basketball. I heard he's playing with a friend
named San."
The mention of San's name caused Thee to turn her head towards
them, her eyes narrowing slightly at the sound of a name she clearly
didn't like. Peach subtly shifted her body to block Thee's view, forcing a
smile that wasn't entirely natural.
After a few more polite exchanges, Peach inally apologized. He quickly
moved to sit next to Thee, taking the other man's hand in his own and
placing it in his lap. While it seemed like an affectionate gesture,
Peach's ingers were actually rubbing Thee's hand, trying to calm him
and soothe his growing temper.
I couldn't allow Thee to ight with a twelve-year-old boy!
After a moment, the host came out to of icially open the event.
Everything moved quickly. The director gave a short opening speech
before letting the children march in the parade towards the ield.
Peach focused her eyes on her daughter and raised the camera, eager
to capture the moment. Her little girl, dressed in a plain pink and white
dress, looked absolutely adorable. The top had puffy sleeves and her
head was crowned with a wreath of pink and white lowers. Her
cheeks, glowing from the heat, made her look like a tiny angel –
nothing short of perfect.
Marn looked up and upon seeing her parents, immediately waved her
hand excitedly, Peach waved back enthusiastically, as did Thee beside
her, offering a smile and a soft glint of affection in her eyes.
Once the children settled into their seats, the competition began. They
had perfect seats, allowing them to clearly see both their daughter in
her princess costume and their son preparing for his race.
The sound of the starting gun rang out and Mhok shot off from the
starting line. Peach glanced at Thee out of the corner of her eye. You
were sitting there, arms crossed, but it was obvious you were tense,
your muscles tight and your lips tight, never taking your eyes off your
son.
Peach couldn't help but laugh softly before shouting her support for
Mhok, clapping loudly as Mhok crossed the inish line. Thee followed
suit, her applause just as loud.
Although Mhok came in second, he was still the best in his eyes.

Peach took out the snacks and drinks she had prepared for the children
to eat. In the midst of this, they heard cheers coming from the nearby
gymnasium. Mhok looked up, his face darkening slightly as a trace of
annoyance crossed his features.
"The basketball game is probably over already," Mhok said latly, taking
Marn's water bottle and recapping it.
"Come on, Marn. I'll accompany you."
Marn nodded enthusiastically, jumped up from her seat and grabbed
her brother's hand. She turned and waved to her parents, who were
still cheering them on.
They sat in the pink section of the bleachers, in a perfect spot to clearly
see their daughter, Marn was spinning, jumping and dancing in the
cutest way, which made Peach take hundreds of pictures of her in
excitement.
After a while, the kids from the gym gathered back on the ield. The
basketball game must have ended, just as Mhok had said. Now, it
seemed that only the cheerleaders were left and his little princess had
a part to play in the show.
However, they didn't expect to see two children approaching their
children. Peach immediately grabbed Thee by the arm and hugged him
tightly while keeping her eyes ixed on the group of children
approaching them.
The two boys looked to be around twelve years old. One of them was
tall, with a honey-colored complexion and a clear athlete's build. The
other had lighter skin, with slightly golden brown hair, and looked like
he might be of mixed race.
The two boys stared into each other's eyes for a brief second before
the darker-skinned boy stepped forward towards Mhok. The two
exchanged a few words. Mhok looked irritated. Then, the boy's arm

The taller boy wrapped his arms around Mok's neck. Half pulling, half
dragging him, clearly not accepting any rejection.
Peach watched with concern, but noticed that although Mhok seemed
annoyed and was mumbling complaints, he didn't actually pull away
from his friend's arm. Peach felt a slight twitch in the arm she was
holding, but decided to let it go and turned her attention back to her
daughter.
The lighter-skinned boy approached Marn with a soft smile and sweet
talk. Marn looked up and smiled back, her eyes narrowing in a cheerful
greeting, clearly familiar with him.
"You're so pretty," the boy said, reaching out as if to stroke her head.
But Marn stepped back, folding her arms with a serious expression
and shaking her head irmly.
"No, no, San. Daddy and Papa said I'm too young for that. No one is
allowed to touch me unless they ask Papa irst."
San paused for a moment, but it was only a brief second before his lips
split into a wide grin, his eyes sparkling with amusement. He
reluctantly withdrew his hand and crossed his arms behind his back.
Thee exhaled sharply, letting out a huff, just as Peach let out a long
sigh. She felt proud that her daughter handled the situation so well.
"Understood. I'll wait until Marn grows up," San said with a smile.
nodding slightly to himself.
"Yes, and if you want to kiss me, you'll have to ask Dad irmly."
San smiled even wider. His eyes almost closed, but for some reason,
Peach couldn't shake the feeling that there was something
mischievous behind that smile.

"Okay, then I'll wait until Marn grows up. When she does, I'll ask Dad for
permission to kiss her."
Peach blinked rapidly, sensing that the conversation was getting a little
strange. She tightened her grip on Thee's arm, instinctively sensing
that something wasn't quite right. It felt like she could almost see the
veins on Thee's temples tighten, as if her entire body was tensing up,
even her arm was shaking slightly.
"He's just a kid, Kian," Peach said, her voice tense, feeling a mix of
wanting to laugh and cry at the same time.
“We need to cut this off before it goes too far, Peach,” Thee muttered
through gritted teeth, her tone low and illed with a sharp edge of
dissatisfaction. “No one should dare to have any ideas. I should shut
this down right now.”
He felt a surge of irritation. He wanted to jump up and pull the boy
away from his daughter. If Peach hadn't held his arm irmly, he
probably would have already done so.
But she couldn't just get rid of her lover.
"They're just kids talking. Let's not make a big deal out of it," Peach
said, her voice soft but irm. "Don't scare Marn, okay? This is a special
day for kids."
Thee grumbled in disgust a few more times before inally giving up on
his attempt to get up. Fortunately, the boy named San had moved away
from his daughter and the tension around the mobster began to rise.

They sat there, watching their daughter happily jump around clapping
and singing along to the song. Thee, not knowing any of the songs,
focused on capturing photos of her little girl, happy with the moment.
Peach laughed softly as Thee turned the camera to show her.
They chatted and congratulated both children non-stop. Even after the
event was over, they stood side by side, waiting with proud smiles for
their children to come back to them.
As for everything else, they decided to let the future take care of it.

SPECIAL CALL FOR ATTENTION #5

Theerakit Kian Arseny was the eldest son of the infamous Arseny
family, a notorious Russian ma ia clan surrounded by countless
rumors. Most of these stories, unsurprisingly, leaned towards the
darker, scarier side. But for the young heir of the mob, those whispers
were more of a blessing than a curse. Fear born from people’s wild
imaginations made it much easier for him to keep trouble at bay.
When it came to Thee and Peach’s relationship, they didn’t exactly
shout it from the rooftops, but they didn’t hide it either. If anyone were
to ask them, they would answer without hesitation – they were
together. The problem?
Rumors had been circulating lately that the ma ia heir had a son.
However, it didn't make much sense, given how public it was that the
man was dating a kind-hearted and kind-faced Thai man. So where did
this supposed child come from?
It wasn't long before rumors spread like wild ire. Whispers claimed
that he was a secret child – the product of Thee's leeting affair with
another woman. Some even went so far as to suggest that Peach was
just a decoy, a stand-in to protect Thee's "true" lover, the mother of
this mysterious child.
Peach, however, was never the least bit shocked. If anything, he found
the rumors downright amusing. The stories grew increasingly absurd
– like an over-the-top soap opera illed with heartbreak and betrayal.
One day, he had supposedly been cast as the pitiful, tragic protagonist.
The next, he suddenly became the villain, cruelly standing in the way of
true love between Thee and the boy’s mother.
The only one who wasn't amused was Thee. She had nearly lost her
voice from yelling so hard to make it clear that Peach was her one true
love, but

The gossip showed no signs of dying down. Instead, it thrived,

spreading far and wide – completely ignoring Thee’s protests.
Peach was now sitting cross-legged on the loor, with his little
daughter sitting on his lap. In front of them was a low Japanese table,
the surface of which was covered by an open writing book.
With quiet patience, Peach guided her little hand, helping her trace the
letters one by one.
Both children were learning three languages –
Thai, English and Russian at the same time – which required careful
planning and structuring.
Children were never pressured or forced to learn, but it is better to
teach languages early – to practice them frequently so that they stick
naturally. Sure, progress may seem slow at irst compared to other
children their age, but once they got the hang of it, everything would
fall into place.
“Dad.” The sound of running footsteps and the excited voice of his
eldest son made Peach look up in surprise. Normally, Mhok liked to act
mature for his age, and rarely showed his playful side unless they were
together at home as a family.
"What's wrong, buddy?" Peach replied, tilting her head in curiosity
when she noticed not only Mhok running towards him but Thee as
well.
Walking in their direction, Mhok's face was lushed from running, a
huge smile spread across his cheeks. He held a piece of paper in his
hand, which he held proudly and almost triumphantly.
“Daddy is taking us on a trip!” Mhok announced, practically jumping up
and down with excitement. Peach took the paper and unfolded it. He
quickly realized what it was – a round-trip plane ticket. A private jet, if
his eyes weren’t deceiving him.

“A trip?” Peach repeated, the curiosity in her voice growing. She looked
up to see the two “culprits” exchanging a glance, both wearing
identical, barely visible smiles. The resemblance in their expressions
was uncanny and only deepened her suspicions.
When Mhok irst came into their lives, Peach had been worried about
how Thee and the boy would get along. After all, no one seemed to
think Thee was patient or particularly kind to children.
Mhok, on the other hand, had been very quiet and reserved, acting
much older than his age. He rarely played or sought attention like
other children his age, which had only increased Peach's concern.
But to his surprise, not only had the two gotten along much better than
he expected, but Mhok had also learned a handful of Thee's quirks
along the way, to the point where they sometimes seemed like a real
father and son.
They say children are shaped, at least in part, by the way they are
raised. Looking at Mhok now grinning from ear to ear with that
mischievous glint in his eyes, it was hard to argue otherwise.
"I have some work to do and it happens to be on an island in the south.
So I thought I'd bring everyone over and have a vacation." Thee said,
the corner of her mouth curling into a gentle smile. However, for some
reason, Peach couldn't help but feel that that smile had some sort of
hidden agenda. She slightly narrowed her eyes, suspicion lashing in
her eyes.
"Journey!" Marn repeated, her eyes lighting up with excitement. She
turned around and put her arms around him, looking up with a grand
expression.
Pleading eyes that could melt even the coldest of hearts. “Let’s all go
together, right, daddy?” Seeing his little sister activate her charm,
Mhok quickly followed suit. Although he was clearly not

Unsure of how to achieve the same kind of sweetness, he awkwardly

approached his father, grasping the hem of Peach's sleeve with
hesitant hands.
Her voice came out soft and uncertain.
"Shall we go together?"
Peach let out a soft sigh, defeated. He couldn’t hold back a smile as he
hugged the two boys.
Although he still had questions about Thee’s true intentions, it was
hard to say no when he was hit with a double dose of cuteness. Plus, he
trusted Thee. Deep down, he knew the man would keep them safe.
Whatever Thee had up his sleeve might be a little suspicious, but in
the end, Peach was willing to go along with it.
"Okay, we'll go. But the tickets say we'll be leaving tomorrow, so you
two need to inish all your homework tonight. That way, we can enjoy
the trip without worrying about it. Is that okay?"
The two children nodded excitedly before running off, scrambling to
get their un inished Christmas chores. Peach turned the ticket over in
her hands, her confusion only deepening as she studied the
destination.
"Where exactly are we going, Kian?" he asked, raising an eyebrow at
the unfamiliar name printed on the ticket.
“My private island,” Thee replied, puf ing out her chest in pride. The
tone of her voice held just a hint of smugness, as if she couldn’t help
but brag a little. “Once we’re there, you won’t have to worry about
prying eyes and we won’t need to bring an entire army of bodyguards. I
know you hate having too many people around.”
"I don't care if they keep their distance," Peach replied, her expression
somewhere between resigned and amused. "After all, they're just doing

“His job.” Being followed by a squad of men in black suits wasn’t

exactly something he’d gotten used to. For someone who’d lived a
normal, ordinary life, it was more than a little overwhelming. “Anyway,
keep an eye on the kids for me, Kian. We’re leaving early tomorrow, so
I’ll go pack.”
"No need, I'll take care of it. You focus on the kids," Thee said with a
smirk, moving closer before pressing a irm kiss to Peach's lips. The
gesture made him look even more suspicious.
Peach narrowed her eyes, watching Thee's back as she walked up the
stairs to the bedroom, clearly in a good mood.
………………..
Thee was an early riser, the complete opposite of Peach, who was
naturally a night owl and never a morning person. He had only started
waking up earlier since Mhok and Marn had come into their lives – just
to make them breakfast – but even then, Thee still managed to get
ahead of himself.
This morning, however, when Thee instinctively reached across the
bed and found the space beside her empty, he inally opened his eyes.
The soft light coming through the curtains told him it was still early,
which only confused him.
Thee must have already gotten up, showered, and started her day, so
she crawled out of bed to look for him. The moment the aroma of food
wafted through the air, she knew exactly where to go.
Sure enough, when he reached the kitchen, he found Peach busy
packing food into containers – fried rice, by the looks of it. Without a
word, Thee walked up behind him, wrapping her strong arms around
Peach’s waist and pulling him close until their bodies were lush
against each other.

They pressed. He lowered his head, burying his face in the crook of
Peach's neck and breathing in the familiar sensation that always
seemed to calm him.
"I'm sweating, Kian. Back off." Peach squirmed in his hold, turning just
enough to glare at him in mock annoyance. Thee, of course, wasn't
intimidated in the slightest. If anything, she found the young man even
more adorable and couldn't resist tilting Peach's face up for another
deep, heated kiss.
The kiss was possessive – hungry. She kissed him like she hadn’t had
enough the night before, and the faint marks that still ran across
Peach’s skin were proof of that. But Thee didn’t care. He wanted more.
He always wanted more.
“Enough, that’s enough. The rice’s going to burn,” Peach protested
breathlessly, pushing herself against Thee’s chest with all the strength
she could muster. She glanced brie ly at the sizzling pan, then leaned
down to press a irm morsel to the underside of Peach’s lip, before
inally letting go, a satis ied smile playing on her lips as she took a step
back.
If the food was ruined, Peach would berate herself for it for days. “Are
the kids up yet? We have to catch an early plane this morning,” Peach
asked as she turned her attention back to the pan, her brow furrowed
slightly in worry. “It’ll take us a while to get to the airport and we
haven’t even loaded the car yet.”
Thee looked at her watch and saw that there were still almost three
hours until takeoff.
Since it was his private jet, time wasn't an issue at all. A faint smile
appeared on his lips as his gaze softened. He could tell that Peach was
excited – maybe even a little anxious.
– for the trip. He still remembered how much Peach loved to travel, but
she had rarely had the chance to do so due to work . No. Thee thought.
From now on, whatever Peach wanted to do, he would make it happen.

"I'll take care of it. You just focus on inishing," Thee said, giving Peach
another irm kiss on the temple before heading back upstairs.
He stopped in front of the door on the left side of the hallway – the
children’s room. After knocking softly and hearing nothing but silence,
he gently pushed the door open. The dim morning light iltered
through the curtains, revealing two twin beds on either side of the
room, a small desk, a wardrobe, and neatly arranged toy boxes.
Thee wanted the kids to have more fun – he had planned to expand
their room, add more toys, and maybe build a play area. But when
Peach gave him one of her sharp, disapproving glances, he had no
choice but to put those plans on hold for now.
He walked over to Mhok's bed irst. Reaching out, Thee ran a gentle
hand over the boy's head before giving him a soft kiss on the forehead.
"Time to get up, buddy. We don't want to miss the plane,
TRUE?"
Mhok groaned a sleepy response, mumbling something incoherent
before the words registered. His eyes snapped open and he hurriedly
sat up, though he was still half asleep. Thee watched as the boy
instinctively grabbed his blanket to fold it neatly before getting out of
bed. Thee then walked over to Marn’s bed and leaned down to kiss his
forehead, just as she had done with her brother.
Her little one was even more groggy than Mhok, but she didn't
whimper or complain. She clung stubbornly to her blanket for a
moment, clearly reluctant to leave her warm cocoon. It took Thee's soft
word, "Your daddy's already making breakfast ," to get her going. Marn
perked up at the mention of food and stood up.

out of bed without further arguments, heading straight to the

bathroom to freshen up.
Thee looked after the children until he was sure they were up and
about on their own. Then he went outside to load the luggage into the
car. Several large bags were loaded into the boot and soon Peach and
the children joined him.
It wasn’t long before they arrived at the airport. Peach, who had gone
to open the trunk so the security guards could store the bags, stopped
short when she noticed a large and very familiar box of camera
equipment – which she hadn’t expected to see.
"Why did you bring all the camera equipment?" Peach asked, her brow
furrowed in confusion. Normally when they traveled, she only brought
the camera and maybe a small tripod, never all the gear like this.
Thee simply smiled slightly, her lips quirking at the corners, before
pushing her lover and the two children towards the plane.
Once the plane took off, the two little ones, exhausted from waking up
so early, had already curled up and fallen fast asleep. He took the
opportunity to move closer, wrapping an arm around Peach and
pulling him down to rest against his chest.
"Are you going to tell me why you suddenly decided to take us on this
trip?"
“You love traveling, but you never have time for it,” Thee replied, a soft
smile on her lips. The arm around Peach’s waist pressed down a little,
his large hand kneading and squeezing along her hip. “Lately, even
though work has calmed down, you’re still very busy with the kids. And
I’ve been swamped with work too. I haven’t really helped out as much
as I should.”

“Don’t say that. You’ve been helping me a lot.” Peach laughed softly,
leaning her face against Thee’s shoulder. Gently grabbing Thee’s
wandering hand before it could travel anywhere too inappropriate.
“Behave, will you?” The kids are here.
"But they're asleep," Thee murmured, lowering her voice as she leaned
in, her lips lightly brushing Peach's cheek.
“Then maybe we should sleep, too,” Peach teased, pushing Thee’s hand
away and lashing a mischievous grin. She leaned in close enough to
plant a irm kiss on Thee’s chin before sinking back into the man’s
chest with a satis ied smirk. “If you’re not going to tell me what you’re
doing, we might as well get some rest, right?” Thee narrowed his eyes,
bathed in frustration and amusement, but in the end, there wasn’t
much he could do. He simply squeezed Peach tighter, pulling him
closer into his arms until he earned a soft, breathy laugh in return.
With a silent sigh, he inally closed his eyes as well.
It didn’t take long for the plane to land. After a drive followed by a short
boat ride, they inally arrived at the private island Thee had purchased.
It wasn’t huge – just the right size to explore on foot. The soft white
sand beneath their feet felt like silk, while the rhythmic waves gently
lapped against the shore. The turquoise sea, sparkling in the sunlight,
blended perfectly with the clear, endless sky. A lush forest surrounded
the area, well-maintained and pristine, while a stone path bordered by
low wooden fences wound its way through it. At the end of the path
stood a large white villa, surrounded by manicured gardens.
A few days earlier, Thee had hired people to clean the place and stock
up on all the essentials. The vacation home was ready to move in –
spotless, without a speck of dust.

The bodyguards and staff busied themselves with unloading the

luggage and supplies while the two children, fully rested after their
long journey, gaped at the vast ocean they had never seen before. After
casting an inquisitive glance at their father and receiving a warm smile
and nod from Peach, the two ran into the water without hesitation.
"Not too far, okay," Peach called out, her voice tinged with concern.
You had assured him that safety nets had been installed to prevent the
children from going into deep water, but he still couldn't help but
worry.
She gave a discreet signal to one of the nearby guards to keep an eye
on the children. Any risk that could be minimized, Peach made sure
was done.
As she calmed down, she caught Thee's calm, amused gaze. Peach
smiled softly and stepped closer, and without a second thought, Thee's
arm found its way around her waist, a natural gesture born of
familiarity and habit.
“Thank you for bringing us here,” Peach said, her smile warm and
genuine. “I’m so happy to see Mhok acting like a boy his age again. I’ve
been worried about him for a long time.”
"You should take this time to relax too," Thee replied, moving her hand
up to gently massage Peach's temple.
"You've been trying too hard lately."
"I will, I promise," Peach replied, pausing slightly before tilting her gaze
towards Thee with a mocking glint in her eyes. "But you still haven't
told me why you brought the whole camera array."

"I have an interview with a magazine," Thee said, her tone casual,
almost as if she was leading Peach into a trap. "It's an online interview
because I've been too busy and I agreed to send you three photos as
requested."
Peach turned to look at him, raising an eyebrow in silent question,
though she was already beginning to put the pieces of the story
together.
"I didn't want their photographer poking around and making a fuss, so
I told them I'd take care of the photos myself." He continued, resting
his chin on Peach's shoulder. The closeness brought them so close that
Peach could feel his warm breath. "I want you to take the photos. Just
you."
Peach almost held her breath. Despite the years they had spent
together – at every level of closeness imaginable – moments like this
still managed to make her heart race.
The way Thee's smoky grey eyes softened as she looked at him always
left Peach bewildered and defenseless.
"So, this whole trip... is just an excuse for you to take pictures of me,
"Huh?" Peach teased, turning her face slightly to hide the blush
beginning to creep up her cheeks, though the small, crooked smile
gave it away.
“The timing was perfect. The kids are on school break, and you might
as well get some rest,” Thee said with a nonchalant shrug, as if she
hadn’t done anything remotely clever. “Besides, we barely have any
family photos together. I want some to show off to Rome – he keeps
posting those saccharine couple photos with Mok everywhere.”
Of course, someone like Mr. Thee would never utter the word
"jealousy."
out loud. Peach nodded slightly, feigning innocence, before turning her
attention to the camera bag. “How many photos does the magazine
need?”
"Three," Thee replied, visibly pleased. "Take a few and help me choose.
I want to use the ones you like best."
"Three photos – all solo portraits, right? I'll start with just you for now.
Then, in the afternoon, once the kids are washed and dressed
appropriately, we'll take some family photos together."
Thee nodded, completely satis ied, and immediately transformed into
the most cooperative model imaginable. Wherever Peach pointed or
told him to stand, he followed without question. Through the camera
lens, Peach focused on Thee, whose smoky gray eyes stared back at
him, soft but intense. It was as if the lens wasn’t even there, as if Thee’s
gaze passed through it and straight to him.
He was irm yet tender, burning with a warm ire that burned silently
yet iercely. It made those smoky grey eyes even more captivating than
Peach had ever seen them before – soft and beautiful in a way that
seemed impossible. Especially knowing that those beautiful eyes were
focused solely on him.
After taking three or four photos, Thee extended her hand, palm open,
waiting with a smile that made Peach’s heart skip a beat. Peach
laughed softly and set the camera to timer mode before rushing to
grab Thee’s hand. The silver rings on her left ring ingers sparkled
under the light, capturing the glow of the moment. Then, the shutter
clicked, sealing that leeting, beautiful moment into something eternal.
………………..

That night, the room was still and quiet, save for the faint hum of the
ocean outside. On the wide bed, two bodies lay entwined, so close that
there was not even room for air between them.
Just minutes ago, the room had been a battleground of passion – hot,
overwhelming, and messy in all the best ways.
Now. Thee sat leaning against the headboard, halfway between sitting
and lying down, while Peach lay sprawled across his chest, fast asleep.
The blanket had slipped down, barely covering her waist, leaving the
smooth expanse of her bare back in view. The delicate skin was dotted
with faint pink marks – kisses left in the heat of the moment. Thee’s
gaze softened as she admired him, satisfaction written clearly on her
face.
Slowly, he lifted the blanket, carefully covering Peach's back to keep
him warm.
Walking over, Thee grabbed the iPad that was resting on the
nightstand.
He opened the photo gallery and his lips curved upward as he looked
through the photographs Peach had taken earlier that day.
For him, Peach would always be the best photographer in the world.
Pleased, he chose a family photo to set as his phone's wallpaper, one
that captured the four of them – happy, relaxed, and together.
He then reviewed the remaining shots to select three for the magazine.
The editor had requested three photographs – a solo portrait and two
others, which could be individual or family.
He didn't particularly like interviews. But as the owner of a large
company, he knew that he himself was a form of marketing, another
tool to promote the business. From time to time, for a credible
magazine, he agreed to sit down for an interview.

The solo shot the editor requested? She chose it without hesitation. It
was the one Peach liked best. But choosing the other two photos? That
took longer.
I hadn't told Peach that I would only include individual photos. On the
other hand, I hadn't said that I wouldn't choose a couple's photo either.
Peach wasn't one to be the center of attention. She never actively hid
anything, but still – there were plenty of people who had no idea they
were together.
And that really bothered Thee. It irritated her even more when
someone tried to interfere with her family.
Especially when they targeted Peach. The young photographer might
have seemed more approachable than the intimidating mobster igure
that was Thee, but Peach's reputation as a famous photographer only
made things worse.
Young models and aspiring in luencers were constantly looking for
the opportunity to get close. If Peach hadn't always handled it so well,
Thee might have lost her temper and done something... regrettable.
He carefully selected a couple photo of himself and Peach, then chose
another for the family. He intentionally picked a photo where his
children weren’t clearly visible and focused on a side angle to maintain
their privacy. Instead, for the couple photo, he chose one where they
were both clearly in view – the clearer, the better.
And she made sure the rings were visible too!
Thee studied the three photographs with a satis ied smile before
sending them to the magazine editor. Task completed, she set the
tablet aside and laid down properly, pulling the smaller igure beside
her into her arms, Peach's head resting on her chest, their bodies
itting together perfectly, sharing warmth between them.

With slow, gentle movements, Thee ran her ingers through Peach's
hair, her faint scent calming his mind and easing the last of his tension.
Before long, a soft smile appeared on the corner of his lips as sleep
began to claim him.
He felt exactly the same as he had told the magazine during the
interview.
For him, Peach was more than just a partner,
Peach was his lover, his family, his soulmate.
He realized what love was really like...

When they really met....

END OF SPECIAL CHAPTER