The kitchen of the Kim Dynasty Restaurant had survived thousands of rushed orders, demanding critics, pressure-filled nights, and impossible deadlines.
But it had *never* experienced Karan Kim cooking under the gaze of someone like **Arthit Sakda.**
"Five minutes," Nova whispered, shocked. "He gave you FIVE minutes?!"
"That man has nerves of titanium," Lusi muttered.
But Karan didn't hear any of it.
His pulse thundered in his ears, his hands moved before his mind even caught up, and his blood felt like it had turned into pure fire.
He wasn't cooking to impress a rude customer.
He wasn't cooking to defend the restaurant's reputation.
He was cooking because **something inside him burned to prove Arthit wrong.**
To show him what bravery tasted like.
To show him what heat really meant.
And, though he hated to admit it even in his own mind—to shut that intense, penetrating gaze up.
Or maybe to make it look at him even more strongly.
He wasn't sure.
He didn't want to think about it.
He only wanted to cook.
---
The Kitchen Reacts to a Storm
Sous-chefs moved aside instinctively as Karan took command of the stove. He didn't shout orders. He didn't need to.
One look from him was enough.
He grabbed ingredients at lightning speed — chili strands, ginger, lemongrass, caramelized garlic, a jar of fermented chili paste, fresh hand-pulled noodles still warm, a selection of seared beef slices marinated overnight, and a small bottle of his father's secret aromatic oil.
Nova rushed to his side. "Karan! What are you making?!"
"Something nobody in this city has tasted before," Karan said, voice low, focused.
"Something worthy of the name Kim."
Flames roared higher as he ignited the wok.
The kitchen bathed in gold.
The whole staff paused for a second—not out of fear, but awe.
Karan rarely unleashed this side of his talent.
The bold side.
The experimental side.
The fearless side.
Lusi whispered, "He's serious… like seriously serious."
Nova nodded. "He's cooking with anger."
"No," Lusi corrected. "He's cooking with pride."
---
Meanwhile, at the table
Arthit rested his elbows on the table, gaze locked on the open kitchen window.
He watched Karan move.
Fast.
Precise.
Confident.
Not a single motion wasted.
Lucas noticed his gaze and leaned in. "Uh… bro, you're staring."
Arthit didn't respond.
Ren added nervously, "Like… staring-staring. Like you're hypnotized."
Still nothing.
New sighed. "He can't hear you. He's in that 'zone' again."
And it was true.
Arthit Sakda was not a man easily impressed.
Not by wealth.
Not by reputation.
Not by achievements.
But something about Karan's movements—
the fire in his eyes,
the determination in his jaw,
the intensity in his hands—
—it made something unfamiliar press against Arthit's chest.
Interest.
Real interest.
The kind he never gave anyone.
He leaned back in his seat, fingers brushing his jaw thoughtfully.
"He's different," Arthit murmured.
Ren blinked. "Who? The chef guy?"
Arthit didn't take his eyes off Karan.
"Yes."
New whispered, "And that scares me."
---
Back in the Kitchen — The Fire Rises
Karan tossed the noodles into the wok with a single, elegant motion. Flames shot up like a dragon's breath, illuminating his face with golden light.
He added the marinated beef slices, searing them quickly.
The aroma exploded into the air—
smoky, spicy, rich, intoxicating.
Even the customers turned their heads, drawn to the sudden burst of fragrance.
Karan didn't slow down.
He tossed in fresh herbs, crushed chili, and a blend of spices he'd crafted himself—
flavor combinations he'd never shown anyone before.
Risks he'd always held back.
Daring choices his father would call too bold.
But Karan didn't care.
This dish wasn't for safety.
It was a challenge.
It was pride.
It was personal.
He drizzled the secret aromatic oil—drops falling like molten gold.
The scent that rose from the wok made the entire kitchen still.
Nova whispered, "Oh my god… that smell—"
Lusi whispered, "That's not food. That's a declaration of war."
Karan smirked.
He knew.
But the real danger?
He could feel Arthit's gaze from across the restaurant.
Burning into his back.
Heavy.
Unwavering.
Almost intrusive.
And for a second—
for just the briefest moment—
Karan felt his heartbeat jump.
*Why does he look at me like that?*
He shook his head hard.
There was no time for this.
He plated the dish with fierce precision—
deep-red noodles glowing with heat,
beef slices glistening with charcoal sear,
a final garnish of shaved chili threads,
and a streak of aromatic oil circling the dish like art.
The dish looked dangerous.
It looked bold.
It looked beautiful.
Just like fire should.
His masterpiece.
---
The Walk Through the Restaurant
Karan lifted the plate.
The restaurant seemed to hold its breath.
Servers, customers, chefs—everyone watched.
Because they could feel it.
Sense it.
The tension in the air was thick and electric.
Nova whispered, "Give him the dish, Karan."
Lusi whispered, "And give him a lesson."
Karan walked across the dining hall, chin high, shoulders straight. The golden lights reflected off the surface of the dish like embers.
He stopped in front of Arthit's table.
Arthit lifted his eyes.
And they struck each other again—
heat meeting ice.
fire meeting frost.
pride meeting power.
Karan placed the plate on the table with a soft sound.
"Your five-minute dish," he said calmly. "Brave enough for you?"
Arthit's lips curved slightly—not into a smile, but something dangerously close.
"We'll see."
Karan folded his arms behind his back, refusing to look away.
Arthit picked up his chopsticks.
Slowly.
Deliberately.
He lifted a bite.
Ren squeezed Lucas's arm.
Lucas grabbed New's shirt.
New almost stopped breathing.
Karan remained perfectly still.
Arthit placed the noodles into his mouth.
The flavors hit instantly—
smoke, spice, heat, brightness, depth.
His jaw stopped mid-chew.
His eyes widened just a fraction—
so small that only someone paying intense attention would notice.
Karan noticed.
Arthit swallowed slowly.
The table remained silent.
Ren whispered, "Well? Is it good? Bad? Are we dying?"
Arthit didn't look at Ren.
He only looked at Karan.
His voice came out low, steady, edged with something Karan couldn't decipher.
"This… is brave."
Karan felt heat spread in his chest—not embarrassment, but triumph.
Arthit continued, setting down his chopsticks.
"And powerful."
Karan's breath hitched.
Arthit leaned back, gaze turning sharper.
"You cook like you're challenging the world."
Karan's heart skipped.
Arthit's eyes softened—barely—
"Or maybe… you're challenging me."
Karan swallowed hard.
Because the truth was—
he had been.
The air between them felt heavy, charged, almost dangerous.
Ren whispered loudly, "OH GOD THEY'RE FLIRTING."
Lucas elbowed him so hard he nearly fell off the chair.
New covered his face.
Karan's ears burned.
"I wasn't challenging you," he lied.
Arthit tilted his head, gaze deepening.
"You were."
Karan inhaled sharply.
"Was it good enough?"
Arthit's lips ghosted into a small, meaningful curve.
"It was… unforgettable."
Karan's pulse jumped.
Arthit's next words were quiet but firm.
"I want to see more."
Karan blinked. "More?"
"Of what you can do."
Karan's chest tightened at the way Arthit said it—
like he wasn't talking about food anymore.
Nova whispered to Lusi, "What the hell is happening…?"
Lusi whispered back, "I don't know. But I like it."
---
Something Begins
Karan bowed slightly and turned to leave.
But halfway back to the kitchen—
he felt it again.
That gaze.
The weight of it.
He turned his head slightly.
Arthit was still watching him.
Not blinking.
Not smiling.
Not hiding his interest anymore.
Karan's stomach flipped.
He tore his eyes away and rushed back to the kitchen, forcing his heartbeat to calm.
Nova caught his arm. "Karan?? Are you okay?"
Lusi leaned in. "You look flustered."
Karan inhaled sharply.
"I'm… fine."
But he wasn't.
Something had changed.
Something big.
Something dangerous.
Something he wasn't ready for.
And somewhere in the restaurant—
Arthit sipped water slowly, eyes still fixed on the kitchen door, pulse just a little too fast for his liking.
He didn't understand it.
He didn't like not understanding.
But he knew one thing:
**Karan Kim was not someone he would forget.**
And this was only the beginning.
---
End OF chapter