The day passed like a ghost.
By evening, Anurak hadn't spoken to anyone, hadn't touched the files on his desk.
The snow outside had begun to melt, leaving streaks of grey across the city — a reminder that nothing, not even the cold, could stay pure for long.
He stood by the window of his office, staring at his reflection in the glass.
In that reflection, he saw two versions of himself — the man the world admired, and the boy who had once watched everything burn.
The memory of Krit's face still haunted him.
No matter how hard he tried to drown it in silence, it kept returning — the sound, the impact, the eyes that had looked at him one last time.
> You said cold keeps everything clear.
Rak exhaled sharply and turned away from the window.
No, he couldn't bury this one. Not again.
---
On the Road
Art drove in silence, glancing at Rak through the corner of his eye.
The car hummed softly through the evening traffic.
> "Rak," he began carefully, "are you feeling better now?"
> "Enough to think clearly," Rak said, his tone even. "I need you to do something for me."
Art frowned. "What now?"
> "Find out about Krit Chansiri. Everything. His family, where they are, who's left."
Art's hands tightened on the wheel. "Rak… mai dai, na. Don't do this. It's not your fault. You didn't mean to—"
> "I know I didn't mean to," Rak cut in, his voice quiet but sharp. "But it happened. And someone lost their son because of me."
Art sighed. "You're not thinking straight. If you get involved, it could create problems. The media, the board, even your family—"
> "Family?" Rak's tone turned cold. "You remember what happened to me after my parents died, right? When everyone turned their backs — when people I trusted tried to take everything from me? I was helpless then, Art. Helpless."
Art said nothing. He just stared ahead, the words hanging heavy in the air.
> "This time," Rak continued, voice low, "I won't be that boy again. I just want to do the right thing — meet his family, apologize. Even if they hate me. Even if they never forgive me."
Art drummed his fingers against the steering wheel, thinking.
Finally, he let out a slow breath. "You really won't drop this, will you?"
Rak turned to him, eyes steady. "Mai chai. Not this time."
Art gave a small, resigned smile. "All right, Rak. I'll find out what I can. But please — promise me you'll be careful."
> "Always," Rak said softly. "You know me."
Art glanced at him and muttered under his breath, "That's exactly what worries me, na khrap."
The two men fell into silence again — not of distance, but of understanding.
----
Meanwhile – Bangkok :
Night blanketed the city in gold and glass. From his high-rise office overlooking the Chao Phraya River, Suwat Vatanakul - Anurak's uncle, his father's younger brother swirled a glass of whiskey, the city lights flickering in his eyes.
Across from him, Chaiwat one of his long-time employees — discreet, efficient, and conveniently loyal, stood respectfully, tablet in hand.
> "Khun Suwat," Chaiwat said, lowering his voice, "there's something strange happening at the Zurich branch. I got word from one of our contacts there."
Suwat's brows lifted slightly. Strange? How?"
"Khun Anurak hasn't been himself lately. He looked… distracted. Missed meetings. Cancelled schedules. Some say he's acting oddly — emotional, even."
> "Distracted? That's not like him. My dear nephew doesn't blink unless it's planned."
> Troubled, hmm? That's rare. Rak usually bleeds ice not nerves "
He smirked, leaning back in his chair.
> "Cold. Calculating. Every move rehearsed — just like his father, but without the warmth."
He took a slow sip of whiskey, eyes gleaming under the lamplight.
> "You know, Chaiwat, he reminds me of ice — cold, clear, beautiful… and deadly if you get too close."
Chaiwat hesitated, then ventured, "Maybe you should visit the Zurich office again, sir or Should we inform KhunSupansa?"
Suwat's smile tightened.
> "My loving sister doesn't need an invitation to meddle. She's already sniffing around my affairs, pretending she wants to 'unite the family.' What she wants is power — always did."
He leaned forward, voice dipping with quiet anger
> "My elder brother thought splitting the company shares equally would keep peace. All it did was give us both reasons to take the rest.
> "Rak called it a 'strategic reassignment.' In truth, it was exile — dressed up in polite English. He wanted me out of the Zurich, out of the boardroom, out of the power "
Chaiwat lowered his eyes. "He was always cautious, sir. Maybe too cautious."
Cautious? No. Paranoid. He doesn't trust anyone — not family, not partners, not even himself. Everything he touches, he controls."
He paused, eyes narrowing as he looked out the window toward the distant skyline.
> "But control slips when a man starts losing sleep. Find out what's making him restless, Chaiwat. Whatever cracks his composure… might open the door for me. I want to know before Supansa does. She'll use it first chance she gets."
Chaiwat bowed. "Understood, Khun Suwat."
As the door closed, Suwat turned toward the window, watching the river's slow current shimmer in the dark.
> "You can keep your empire, Anurak," he murmured. "But remember — family doesn't fade. It waits."