The night was unusually quiet. Too quiet.
Karan had just left the restaurant after helping close the kitchen. The lamps along the street flickered with a faint hum. The city's warm energy usually comforted him—tonight, it felt unfamiliar, cold.
He wrapped his jacket around himself and started walking.
His mind was still repeating the memories of the rooftop dinner, the whispered confession, the warmth of Arthit's hand on his cheek.
He smiled unconsciously.
"Arthit…"
But the smile faded the moment a sleek black car rolled to a stop beside him—silent, tinted, expensive.
Karan froze.
Before he could step back, two men in dark suits got out—faces emotionless, movements sharp.
"W-What—?" Karan stepped back instinctively.
One grabbed his arm.
The other covered his mouth.
Karan struggled, muffled screams escaping his throat.
"Keep quiet," one man muttered coldly.
"No one here will save you."
A cloth pressed against his nose—a strange smell.
Karan felt the world sway.
His vision blurred.
Voices faded into echoes.
Then darkness swallowed everything.
---
When Karan opened his eyes…
He was in a room he didn't recognize.
Not a warehouse.
Not a basement.
A luxurious private chamber—silent, polished, and suffocatingly cold.
He was seated in a chair. His hands weren't tied, but two guards stood at the door, staring at him like statues.
Karan swallowed hard.
"Where… am I?"
The door opened.
And Karan's heart nearly stopped.
**Mr. Sakda** walked in.
Impeccable suit.
Unmoving expression.
Eyes like blades—sharp, unreadable.
The type of presence that could make an entire room kneel without a word.
Karan's blood ran cold.
"S–Sir…" he whispered, voice trembling.
Mr. Sakda didn't answer.
He walked slowly to the opposite chair and sat down gracefully, as if they were about to negotiate a business deal.
For a long moment, he said nothing.
Just stared.
Karan felt like he was being dissected alive.
Finally, Mr. Sakda spoke.
His voice calm. Controlled.
Even gentle.
But it cut sharper than knives.
"So… you're the boy."
Karan stiffened.
"…boy?"
"The one distracting my son."
Karan's breath hitched painfully.
"I—I didn't distract him, sir. I didn't even know he—"
Mr. Sakda raised a hand.
Silence instantly filled the room.
"Let me explain something to you, Karan."
The way he said his name felt wrong—like it didn't belong to him anymore.
"You come from a good family. Respected. Loved by your community. Hard-working. Decent."
He paused.
"And I admire that."
Karan blinked, startled.
"But admiration…"
Mr. Sakda's voice lowered into something darker.
"…does not mean acceptance."
Karan's stomach twisted.
"Sir… please. If this is about the engagement—"
"This is about *you*," Mr. Sakda said coldly.
"About you standing too close to something that does not belong to you."
Karan froze.
"Arthit is the future head of the Sakda empire," Mr. Sakda continued.
"Heir to billions. To power. To alliances. To influence your world cannot comprehend."
Karan's heart hammered in his chest.
"I—I don't want anything from him," Karan whispered desperately.
"I don't want his money, his title, his world—"
Mr. Sakda leaned forward, eyes narrowing.
"Then what do you want?"
Karan swallowed painfully.
"…Just him."
Mr. Sakda's expression didn't soften.
If anything, the atmosphere grew colder.
"And that," Mr. Sakda said quietly, "is precisely the problem."
Karan's hands tightened.
"Sir… I will not harm him. I am not using him—"
Mr. Sakda stood up suddenly.
The temperature seemed to drop ten degrees.
"Let me show you something," he said softly.
He walked to the large digital screen behind him and pressed a button.
Images appeared.
Images of—
**Karan's family restaurant.
His parents.
His younger brother, Korn.
Nova and Lusi.**
Candid photos.
Security footage.
Schedules.
Movements.
Karan's entire body went numb.
"I know everything," Mr. Sakda said calmly.
"Where your family is.
Where your friends study.
When your restaurant opens.
Who visits.
What routes you walk home."
Karan's breath collapsed.
"T-This… this is insane—"
"This," Mr. Sakda said firmly, "is power."
He turned toward Karan fully.
"My son has stepped out of line. I did not raise him to fall in love with a distraction. Certainly not with a male chef from a small family."
Karan felt like his heart was being crushed.
"Arthit deserves a future carved in steel and fire," Mr. Sakda said.
"Not tenderness. Not romance. Not weakness."
Karan clenched his fists.
"I am not weakness."
Mr. Sakda tilted his head slightly.
"Then prove it."
Karan blinked in confusion.
"Prove that you care," Mr. Sakda said.
"Prove that you want to protect your family."
He stepped closer.
One step.
Two steps.
Until he towered over Karan.
"Leave my son."
The words hit Karan like a blade.
"Sir… please…" Karan choked.
"If you truly care about him," Mr. Sakda continued, "then you will walk away from him. Quietly. Completely."
"But… he…"
Karan's voice cracked.
"He loves me."
"And that," Mr. Sakda said with ice in his tone, "is why I'm talking to you instead of removing the problem."
Karan's blood froze.
Removing…
the problem?
He glanced at the screen showing his family.
Korn… smiling.
Mrs. Kim serving dishes.
Nova and Lusi walking home.
He looked back at Mr. Sakda.
"You wouldn't…"
Karan's voice trembled.
"You wouldn't hurt them. They're innocent."
Mr. Sakda stared at him without blinking.
"Innocent people suffer all the time," he said calmly.
"That is how the world works. Especially my world."
Karan felt tears fill his eyes.
"You're a business tycoon… why…"
His voice shook.
"Why are you speaking like a criminal?"
Mr. Sakda smiled faintly.
"Because I am one."
Karan's heart stopped.
He whispered:
"You're… mafia."
"Not just mafia," Mr. Sakda corrected softly.
"I am the man this city answers to."
Karan's breath shattered.
"And you?" Mr. Sakda tilted his head.
"You are a chef's son. You live on kindness. Simplicity. Decency."
He leaned forward.
"Your world is not my world, Karan.
And it will never be."
Karan shook, silent tears falling.
Mr. Sakda straightened.
"So listen carefully."
His tone turned deadly quiet.
"Leave Arthit.
Leave him now.
And your family remains untouched."
Karan's chest tightened painfully.
"And if I don't?" he whispered, barely breathing.
Mr. Sakda's answer was simple:
"Then your father's restaurant burns tomorrow.
Your brother disappears.
Your friends go missing.
And you will watch your world collapse."
Karan felt his soul rip open.
"You… can't…"
His voice broke.
"You can't do this."
Mr. Sakda turned away.
"I don't give warnings twice."
Karan wiped his tears with shaking hands.
He couldn't let them suffer.
Not his parents.
Not Korn.
Not Nova or Lusi.
He had to choose.
Himself…
or his family.
And there was no choice.
Not really.
Karan stood slowly on unsteady legs.
"…I'll leave him," he whispered.
Mr. Sakda stopped walking.
"I'm sorry, speak louder."
Karan forced air into his lungs.
"I said…"
His voice cracked.
"…I'll leave Arthit."
Silence.
Mr. Sakda turned around slowly, expression unreadable.
"Good."
Karan's tears dripped onto the floor.
"Remember this night," Mr. Sakda said coldly.
"It is the night you protected your family."
Karan whispered:
"It's also the night I lost him."
Mr. Sakda didn't react.
He simply nodded to the guards.
"Take him back."
---
The car ride back felt endless.
Karan stared out the window, numb, shaking, silently crying.
His chest felt hollow.
His hands cold.
His soul shattered.
He whispered to himself:
"I'm sorry, Arthit…
I'm sorry…"
The memory of Arthit's confession echoed in his mind—
*"I chose you."
"I love you."
"I'm yours."*
Karan covered his mouth, sobbing quietly.
He whispered again:
"…And I left you."
---
When the car stopped near his house, one guard said:
"Forget tonight. If you tell him anything…"
His eyes turned icy.
"Everything burns."
Karan nodded weakly.
He stumbled out of the car, legs trembling, body aching with emotional pain.
When the car sped away, he collapsed to his knees on the pavement.
He cried until he had no tears left.
Because loving Arthit was the best thing that had happened to him—
and the most dangerous.
And now?
It was over.
---
END OF CHAPTER 18