MasukPakin’s P.O.VThe city of Bangkok, with its neon veins and suffocating noise, gradually faded into the rearview mirror. We drove for nearly two hours, leaving the sprawling concrete jungle behind in favor of the quiet, rolling darkness of the countryside.Sean drove with a relaxed confidence, one hand on the wheel and the other resting on my thigh, his thumb tracing slow, rhythmic circles against the fabric of my trousers.I leaned my head back against the seat, watching the silhouettes of palm trees flicker past like ghosts under the moonlight. For the first time in my entire life, the air in my lungs didn't feel heavy.The invisible crown that had pressed down on my brow for twenty-odd years—the one made of expectations, royal decrees, and the crushing weight of my father’s disappointment—had finally been lifted.Sean eventually slowed the car, turning off the main road and navigating a narrow dirt path that led into a small, empty field. He killed the engine, and for a moment, the
Pakin’s P.O.VThe roar of the engines was still ringing in my ears, a visceral, vibrating hum that seemed to have settled deep into my marrow. My heart was hammering against my ribs, not from fear, but from the sheer, adrenaline-soaked intensity of the last hour.The semi-final had been a blur of scorched rubber and screaming metal. It was a knife-fight at two hundred kilometers per hour. I had fought my way through the pack, keeping a steady pace, but the real war was happening ahead of me.Sean and Talay had been locked in a dance of death, their cars practically touching, swapping positions with a frequency that made my stomach churn. Every time Sean gained an inch, Talay would squeeze him, forcing him toward the wall or the grass, playing a dangerous game of chicken with the laws of physics.When they crossed the finish line, the timing screens flickered for a breathless second before flashing the result: a dead heat. A draw. No clear first place.The crowd had gone wild, but as I
Dew’s P.O.VThe heavy mahogany door clicked shut, the sound echoing like a gavel in the sudden silence of the study. I remained standing where I was, my gaze fixed on the space Pakin had just occupied.I could still feel the vibration of his voice in the air—the raw, unfiltered defiance of a young man who had finally stopped trying to fit into a mold that was designed to crush him.For a moment, I allowed myself a small, private smile. Pakin had always been the wildfire of our family; all my father had ever done was try to build a wall around the flames. Tonight, Pakin hadn't just climbed the wall—he had burned it to the ground.I turned slowly to face our father. The King was still standing by the window, his silhouette sharp against the moonlight. He looked every bit the sovereign—composed, distant, and inscrutable.But I knew the man behind the crown. I knew the way his mind worked, the way he viewed the world as a series of interlocking gears and levers."Did that go exactly as yo
Pakin’s P.O.VThe silence of the palace corridors always felt different after a gala. During the event, the air was thick with the scent of expensive lilies, heavy perfumes, and the suffocating weight of a thousand judging eyes.Now, in the aftermath, the silence was cold. It was a predatory kind of quiet, the kind that signaled a storm was brewing behind closed doors.I walked toward my father’s study, my footsteps echoing against the polished marble. Beside me, P’Dew walked in a steady, supportive silence. He didn't say a word, but the way his shoulder occasionally brushed mine was a silent promise: I am here. You are not alone.My heart hammered against my ribs, a frantic rhythm that reminded me of the seconds before a green light on the track. But there was no engine to drown out the noise, no helmet to hide behind. I was just Pakin—the second prince, the disappointment, the scandal.As we reached the heavy mahogany doors, the guards opened them with a synchronized click. I entere
Pakin’s P.O.VThe world around us continued to spin—a kaleidoscope of gold leaf, shimmering diamonds, and the hushed, frantic whispers of the Thai nobility. But within the small circle of Sean’s arms, the air felt thick, charged with a tension that had nothing to do with the royal protocol and everything to do with the man holding me.I was still vibrating with a mixture of adrenaline and irritation. I could feel the heat of his chest through the fine fabric of his tuxedo, the steady thrum of his heart beating in a rhythm that seemed far too calm for the chaos he had just unleashed."I’m still waiting for that explanation, Sahapap Phongsawat," I hissed again, my voice trembling slightly.Sean didn't look repentant. In fact, he let out a low, melodic laugh that vibrated against my collarbone. He tightened his grip on my waist, pulling me so close that there wasn't a sliver of air between us."God, you're alwa
Pakin’s P.O.VThe silence that descended upon the ballroom was not the polite, curated hush of the nobility; it was a vacuum. It was the sound of a thousand breaths being held simultaneously, a collective gasp that seemed to suck the very oxygen out of the room.I felt as though the floor had vanished beneath my feet. I was floating, suspended in a moment of pure, unadulterated shock. There he was. Sean. The man who had been my sanctuary in the grease-stained chaos of the garage, the man who had held me through my panic attacks and kissed me with a hunger that made the rest of the world fade away, was standing in the heart of the palace. And he wasn't just here—he was wearing the emblem of the Phongsawat household.Even my father, the King, who had stepped forward with his usual practiced poise to greet General Phongsawat and initiate the formalities of the engagement announcement, froze.His eyes, usually sharp and calculatin
Pakin’s P.O.VMy heart was still pounding in my chest as I gripped the wheel of my Valkyrie, the echoes of the race still fresh in my mind and in the way I breathed deeply.After that performance, I should’ve stayed at the track to soak in the crowd’s awe, to let my ego bask in that glory and solidi
Pakin’s P.O.VI woke to the dull light of morning filtering through cheap blinds, the rays cutting across the dim, cramped motel room. My head throbbed faintly, and for a moment, I wasn’t sure where I was.Then the memories hit me like a freight train. All at once, without mercy.Cship hia laew! (H
Sean’s P.O.VThe roar of engines filled the air, and with it, the feeling of contained chaos and adrenaline.The corners of my mouth curled upward with amusement as the guy with the curly dyed blonde hair, who looked to be no older than twenty-three, had his face draining of color faster than a fadi
Pakin’s P.O.V“That’s him, isn't it?” I narrowed my eyes at the silver 2020 Porsche 911 GT3 RS parked in the shadows of the stadium parking lot.“Chai.” One of my closest male friends, Tew, nodded in agreement. His gaze, too, was fixated on the luxury supercar. I couldn’t blame him; it was a pretty







