The city was alive with lights and noise, but Karan felt disconnected from it all. He had spent the night wandering, moving aimlessly through Bangkok's streets, trying to make sense of what had happened. Jun's words haunted him: *You're just a substitute… shadows fade.*
Every memory of Arthit—every laugh, every touch, every quiet moment they had shared—now carried an unbearable weight of doubt. How could the man he loved have once been with someone else like Jun? How could those intimate photos even exist?
Karan sank onto a bench in a quiet park, his head in his hands. He wanted to scream, to run, to call out Arthit's name, but the words caught in his throat. Pain and betrayal twisted inside him like a knife.
He had to get away, even if only for a little while. Even if it meant leaving the apartment he had called home for the first time in months.
---
Arthit Returns
The next afternoon, Arthit returned earlier than expected. His business meeting had ended sooner than planned, and he had been looking forward to seeing Karan. He stepped out of the car, the city bustling around him, and felt an unusual chill in the apartment. Something was off.
Pushing open the door, he called out, "Karan? I'm home!"
No response.
He frowned, moving cautiously through the apartment. The lights were on, the breakfast dishes from the morning still scattered on the counter—but there was no sign of Karan.
And then he saw him.
Jun.
Standing in the middle of the living room, leaning casually against the counter, a smirk on his face. He looked up as Arthit entered, eyes gleaming with cunning amusement.
"Ah… you must be him," Jun said smoothly. "The one everyone's been talking about. Karan. Or should I say… the substitute?"
Arthit's eyes narrowed, his posture shifting instantly into the cold, commanding aura Karan knew all too well. "What are you doing here?" His voice was calm but dangerous.
Jun's smirk widened. "Visiting old memories. And maybe… seeing who's been filling my place while I was gone."
Arthit's gaze swept the room, immediately noticing the envelope on the coffee table, the photos spilled beside it. His expression hardened, jaw tightening.
"You…" he said through gritted teeth. "You've caused him pain. Stay out of this."
Jun shrugged, unbothered. "He called me, didn't he? He opened the envelope. He wanted answers. He wanted the truth. And now… he has me."
---
Karan's Return
The moment Karan stepped into the building, his chest burned with emotions that were too heavy to carry—anger, fear, confusion, but above all…
**Trust.**
Deep, stubborn trust in Arthit.
It was that trust that brought him back home.
Not weakness.
Not guilt.
Not fear.
He had chosen Arthit.
Chosen to believe him.
And so he returned.
The hallway was silent as Karan approached the door. His hand hovered above the handle, shaking—not from fear, but from a storm he could no longer hold inside.
He pushed the door open.
Inside, Arthit was standing in the middle of the living room. Tense. Breathing unevenly. Waiting.
Jun was sitting on the couch, legs crossed, arrogance dripping off him like poison.
The moment Karan entered, both men looked up.
Arthit's eyes widened with shock.
"Karan…"
But Karan didn't let him speak.
He walked straight to Arthit—steps sharp, unhesitating—and without warning…
**SLAP.**
The sound cracked through the apartment.
Arthit's head jerked to the side, but he didn't flinch further. He swallowed hard, eyes soft, almost relieved that Karan had returned—even if it was with anger.
Karan's voice shook furiously.
"I will settle this with you later."
Then he turned… slowly… to Jun.
Jun raised an eyebrow, smirk curling across his lips.
"Oh? The soft boy returns. Couldn't stay away, hm?"
Karan stepped forward without waiting for another word.
**SLAP.**
Jun's face snapped sideways, his smirk immediately wiped off.
Karan's voice thundered:
"DON'T. DARE. TRY. ME."
Jun blinked, stunned, then scoffed, trying to gather his pride.
"Tch. You think you're strong just because you slapped me? Please. You're nothing in this house. You trust the wrong person."
Karan glared.
"I trust Arthit. NOT you."
Jun stood, laughing under his breath. "You fool. You think Arthit will protect you? You think he can save you?"
He leaned forward, speaking low, dark, venomous.
"You will definitely die in my hand."
**CLICK.**
Arthit had drawn his gun so fast neither of them saw the movement.
He aimed the barrel right at Jun's forehead.
Arthit's voice was cold enough to freeze blood.
"Say that again."
Jun froze completely. His eyes widened, hands twitching in panic.
"A-Arthit—what—this is ridiculous. Put the gun down—"
"Threaten him one more time," Arthit whispered, "and you won't walk out of this apartment alive."
Jun swallowed.
Fear crawled across his face, shattering his arrogance.
Karan didn't move. He didn't speak.
He only watched.
Jun took a shaky step back. "I—I'm leaving."
Arthit didn't lower the gun.
Jun moved toward the door slowly, trembling.
Arthit whispered one last warning.
"If you come back again, you will not leave breathing."
Jun opened the door with shaking hands and fled the apartment.
The door slammed shut.
Silence.
A heavy, suffocating silence.
Karan turned back to Arthit.
Arthit placed the gun on the table slowly, carefully.
His posture softened—no mafia boss, no killer, no power.
Just a man.
A man waiting for the consequences.
Karan walked toward him.
Arthit didn't step away.
He didn't raise a hand.
He didn't defend himself.
Karan raised his hand and—
**SLAP.**
Arthit's cheek reddened, but he said nothing.
Karan slapped him again.
And again.
Arthit took every hit.
Every ounce of pain.
Every drop of guilt.
Not once did he stop him.
Not once did he shield himself.
Karan's voice cracked, breaking under the weight of emotion.
"When I'm leveling with you—when I'm being loyal to you—when I'm choosing YOU every single time—"
Tears spilled from his eyes.
"WHY DOES IT ALWAYS END UP LIKE THIS?! WHY ARE YOU ALWAYS THE REASON?!"
Arthit's chest rose and fell sharply, but he kept his eyes on Karan—soft, pained, full of regret.
"Karan—"
"No!" Karan yelled, stepping back.
"I'm not with anyone else! I'm not talking to anyone else! I came home because I TRUST YOU. But every time I try to trust—it's always a mess, always danger, always someone like Jun!"
His voice cracked.
"I'm trying, Arthit. I'm trying to trust you. So why—WHY do you keep giving me reasons to break?!"
Arthit finally spoke.
He didn't raise his voice.
He didn't defend himself.
He didn't justify anything.
He whispered—
"I'm a mafia boss to the world… but in front of you, I'm just a man. A man who doesn't know how to be perfect, but knows he can't lose you."
Karan's breath hitched.
Arthit took a step forward, slowly, carefully—like approaching something fragile.
"When you left for Italy… I lost myself," he said, voice raw.
"I lost my mind. I became obsessed, angry, reckless. I acted like a man addicted to chaos. I rose in the mafia because I had nothing left to protect."
His voice trembled.
"But now I have something to protect again."
He placed a hand on his chest.
"You."
Karan looked away, tears falling silently.
Arthit continued, voice barely holding together:
"I regret every moment you were hurt. I regret letting Jun near you. I regret not being enough for you."
Karan whispered, "Then why don't you change?"
Arthit's shoulders shook faintly—something no one ever saw.
"I will," he promised quietly.
"Not for power. Not for reputation. But for you."
Karan's eyes softened with pain and love tangled together.
"I trust you, Arthit," he whispered.
"Don't make me regret it."
Arthit stepped forward and wrapped his arms around him—slowly, gently, asking for permission without words.
Karan didn't push him away.
He leaned into the embrace, exhausted, trembling, but still there.
Still trusting.
Still fighting for them.
Arthit closed his eyes, holding Karan tightly, protectively, as if he finally understood the weight of what he almost lost.
And for the first time in a long time—
They stood together, breathing through the storm instead of running from it.
The danger wasn't over.
The enemies were still watching.
But in that moment…
Karan and Arthit rebuilt something precious:
**Trust.**
---
End of chapter 48