The piano came first. It sounded like it came from someone very broken… Soft and broken, like it was made from glass and was already in shambles.
It wasn't the kind of sound you'd expect this late at night, and especially not on the 45th floor of a glass fortress like VALORÉ.
Kao had been organizing files when he heard it, the first few notes curling through the still air like perfume, gently diffusing into him. A hesitant melody, almost too tender to belong in a building known for ruthless ambition. The kind of tune that made your chest beat very fast without knowing why.
Kao paused; his pen was stuck mid-air. For a second, he thought he had imagined it. But no, there it was again. The sound of a piano, echoing faintly from the far end of the hallway.
Who the hell was playing piano at midnight in a place like this? Was there anyone still in the office by this time? He murmured to himself.
Curiosity got the better part of him. Curiosity, they say, kills the cat, he said to himself, but that didn't stop him.
The quiet intensity of the notes didn't match the sterile image he had of VALORÉ's top executive floor; it felt like something was cracking the walls. Something strong and real, and he couldn't explain what it was.
Kao stood, straightening his tie instinctively. It still felt foreign, too expensive for someone like him.
It was a European cut, imported silk. The kind of suit that didn't belong to boys from third-rate universities. But he wasn't just a boy from a third-rate university anymore; he was an intern in one of the leading companies in the city. Everything he needed was provided; even the suit he wore was provided by the company.
He walked slowly, following the trail of music. His polished shoes echoed down the dim corridor as he passed silent offices and doors. The farther he went, the clearer the notes became. Something mournful hid in that melody, not sadness exactly, but grief that had long since accepted its shape.
Then he reached it. The heavy door, made of oak, and slightly open. Nine's office. Kao hesitated. Everything about this floor screamed boundaries. Cross one, and you're done. But the music pulled at something buried in him. Like the music was calling him. He pushed the door open slowly, quietly, and just wide enough.
And there he was. Mr. Nine. Sitting at a grand piano by the corner of his vast office, framed by floor-to-ceiling windows that spilled starlight across his dark profile. The city was alive behind him, a thousand lights blinking like a pulse, but inside, it was just him and the music. He played without looking at the keys. His sleeves were rolled up, and his forearms were tense but graceful. His fingers moved like dancers, weaving emotion into each note. Kao had expected coldness, Control, and Precision. But this... this was vulnerable. It was Raw. He wasn't playing for anyone. He wasn't performing. It felt like a confession. Kao didn't dare breathe too loudly. He watched, transfixed, heart thudding like he'd stumbled into something sacred. Then the music stopped.
Without turning, Nine spoke. "Do you plan to stand there all night?" Kao was shocked. "I'm sorry, sir. I didn't mean to intrude." "But you did." Nine's voice was deep and Smooth. It didn't rise and didn't scold. But it curled around Kao like silk drawn over skin. "The building was quiet. I thought everyone left," Kao said shakily. "You didn't." Finally, Nine turned. His eyes met Kao's, dark, unreadable, and cut from the dark. They scanned him, but not in the cold, dismissive way CEOs scanned interns. No. Nine looked at him like he was trying to decipher a language Kao didn't know he spoke.
"What's your name?" Kao straightened. "Kao Thanawan, sir." He paused. "You're the new intern?" "Yes, sir." Another pause. A trace of something behind Nine's gaze. "They told me you were small and naive," he said. "But you're not." Kao blinked. Was that a compliment? Or an indirect insult? He couldn't tell. He stepped back. "I'll go now. Sorry again, sir." But before he could turn fully, Nine asked, Do you play?" Kao turned back slowly. "Play?" "Piano. Do you play?" Kao hesitated. "A little. My mother taught me. Before she got sick." Nine looked at him for a long moment.
And then: Play something. "Sir? "You heard me." It wasn't an order. It wasn't quite an invitation either. It was... curious. Quiet. Almost lonely. Kao stepped toward the piano. His palms were damp from sweat. He sat, careful not to disturb the aura. Nine left on the bench. He pressed his fingers to the keys. Choose a lullaby. Something Simple. One of the ones his mother sang when she was still healthy. He played. Each note felt like exhaling. Soft, Measured.
His hands trembled slightly, but the melody didn't. He held it; he carried it like he had been pregnant with it. When it ended, silence filled the room like steam. Nine watched him. "Your hands shake," he said, almost like a whisper. "But you know what you are playing." Kao looked down. Didn't know what to say. He never thought anyone would see that. Nine stood. Straightened his cuffs on the sleeves. "Go home, Kao. This place will eat you alive if you let it."Kao swallowed a spit, like he was given a very bitter pill to swallow. "Why do you stay then?" Nine paused in the doorway. His voice was barely a whisper: Because I already belong to it."
Hours earlier, Kao hadn't even expected to be there. He still didn't understand how he'd landed the internship. Out of over a hundred polished, perfectly presented applicants, he'd walked in with scuffed shoes and a trembling résumé. His collar had been too tight, and his voice too soft. But something had made them choose him. They never told him why. Just a call that said, "Report on Monday at 8 AM sharp. 45th floor. You're under Mr. Nine now." The name came with so many Rumors and Warnings, some came directly and others as a whisper. He doesn't smile. He doesn't speak unless spoken to. He fired someone for typing too loudly. He watched his father die. And so many other things he couldn't keep track of.
Kao had tuned most of it out. But stepping into that penthouse floor for the first time had been like entering another world. The walls were shining and intimidating. Every fixture, every polished tile, felt like it cost more than Kao's lifetime rent. And now... Now, he had seen the man behind the door. The phantom behind the power. He wasn't a monster or a machine like they had earlier described him to Kao. Just... a man. With music in his fingers and grief in his silence. Kao closed the door gently behind him, but his heart was still caught in the chords he left behind. He had a feeling this internship was about to become something much more interesting… Something unforgettable