MasukHey guys!Sean and Pakin's journey has finally come to an end and they've officially crossed the finish line!Saying goodbye to a book is always hard and I’m crying as I write the final chapter to their story.Thank you to everyone who read this story and adored Sean and Pakin! I hope it went as to your liking!Also, a big thank you to everyone who commented about my health and checked up on me! I’m doing a lot better now, still healing and it’ll take a lot of time to get past my mental health issues, but I do plan to come out on top.Hopefully we’ll meet with a new book soon with more adventure and even bigger surprises!Till then, happy reading and stay safe!LOVAGE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Sean’s P.O.VThe roar of the engine was a symphony, a violent, screaming vibration that echoed through my chest and synchronized with the pounding of my heart. Through the visor of my helmet, the world was a blur of asphalt, neon sponsors, and the shimmering heat haze of the international circuit.Twelve years.Twelve years of grueling training, of waking up before the sun, of bleeding over engines and fighting for every single millisecond of improvement. We weren't just racing for a trophy today; we were racing for the culmination of a decade of sacrifice.I glanced to my left, catching a glimpse of the sleek car beside me. Pakin. Even after all this time, seeing him on the track—his movements precise, his aggression calculated—sent a jolt of adrenaline through me that had nothing to do with the race.We had evolved from rivals to teammates, from secret lovers to partners, and now, we were the faces of Thailand’s racing legacy on the global stage.The final lap was a war. The drivers
Pakin’s P.O.VThe drive back to my old manor was the first time in years that the road felt like it was leading me toward a sanctuary rather than a gilded cage. Beside me, Sean drove with a relaxed grip on the steering wheel, his presence a grounding force that kept me from drifting back into the anxiety of the past few months.As the wrought-iron gates swung open and the familiar gravel driveway crunched beneath the tires, I looked out at the sprawling estate. It was a place of memories—some suffocating, some sweet—but now it felt different.When the King had officially acknowledged my relationship with Sean and removed me from the direct line of succession, I had expected to be cast out entirely. I had prepared myself for the possibility of being stripped of everything, forced to rely solely on Sean or the kindness of my brother.But my father, in his own strange, distant way of showing love, had been surprisingly lenient. While I no longer bore the burden of the crown's expectation
Pakin’s P.O.VThe air in the room shifted the moment my father stepped inside. It wasn't just the physical presence of the King; it was the weight of the crown, the suffocating expectation of royal decorum, and the history of a thousand cold disappointments that followed him.The reaction from the room was instantaneous. The Track Dragons, who had just moments ago been celebrating a victory and arguing about my recklessness, scrambled backward.They weren't just moving out of the way; they were retreating. To them, the King was a deity of judgment, and none of them wanted to be caught in the blast radius of his temper.One by one, they filed out of the room in a blur of racing suits and hushed whispers. Coal gave me a quick, supportive nod, and the others cast lingering, worried glances my way before the heavy doors clicked shut behind them.Only Dew remained, standing like a silent sentinel at the foot of my bed, his expression unreadable but his eyes watchful.Sean started to stand,
Pakin’s P.O.VThe first thing I felt was the smell. It wasn't the scent of burnt rubber or the acrid tang of gasoline that had filled my lungs during the crash; it was the sterile, cloying scent of antiseptic and rubbing alcohol.Then came the sound—the rhythmic, steady beep... beep... beep... of a heart monitor that seemed to be pulsing in time with the throbbing ache in my skull.I forced my eyelids open. The light was blinding, a harsh fluorescent white that made me wince and squint. As my vision slowly blurred into focus, the first thing I saw was a silhouette.Sean.He was sitting in a plastic chair pulled tight against the side of my bed. He looked like he’d been through a war. His racing suit was half-unzipped, stained with soot and grime, and his eyes were rimmed with red, looking sunken and exhausted. The moment he realized I was awake, he leaned forward, his grip tightening on my hand.I tried to speak, but my throat felt like it had been scrubbed with sandpaper. I swallowed
Sean’s P.O.VThe world was a blur of screaming engines and distorted light, but my eyes were locked on the rearview mirror. I saw it—the moment Pakin stopped racing.I saw the violent, desperate angle of his car as he slammed into Talay’s side. I saw the sheer force of the impact, the way Pakin’s Valkyrie shuddered under the blow, using every ounce of its momentum to shove that ticking time bomb off the asphalt.My heart stopped. Every instinct in my body screamed at me to slam on the brakes, to pull a U-turn, to throw my car into the dirt and scream Pakin’s name. I could see the smoke billowing from Talay’s hood, and I knew—God, I knew—that something catastrophic was coming.“At least one of us has to cross the finish line, Sean.”Pakin’s voice echoed in my head, clear and steady, from the last conversation we’d had before the race. He had said it with that stubborn, selfless look in his eyes, the look of a man who had already decided that my dreams were more important than his own s
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
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
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







