Chapter Text
A handsome man sat in the dimly lit room, the scent of expensive perfume mixed with polished wood. Rows of plush velvet chairs faced a grand stage where jewelry glistened under blinding lights.
His gaze drifted over the crowd, not truly seeing them—his focus was elsewhere.
“The next piece is the highlight of today’s auction…” the bald auctioneer proudly announced. He revealed a beautiful white gold necklace dripping in a hundred carats of pure diamonds. “Please welcome… The King of the Night.”
Beside the Man, his prey leaned forward, eyes wide, breath catching in her throat. Perfect.
She was the type he thrived on: a hopeless romantic with too much money and enough independence to make her think she didn’t need anyone else—at least not until he came along. Vanity always left them open to flattery, and vanity was her deepest flaw. The Man watched her expression shift, unaware of the game he was about to play.
“It’ll look good on you.” the Man commented.
She glanced at him, cheeks flushing. “You think so?”
“I know so.”
The auctioneer cleared his throat, raising his gavel. “Let’s commence the auction for the final piece of the night. We’ll start at 15 million.”
She quickly raised her auction board. “20 million.”
“Ms. Phukan bids 20 million!” the auctioneer called out in excitement.
The Man turned to her, feigning a mild surprise. She flashed him a proud, self-satisfied smile. He chuckled, shaking his head in amusement.
She didn’t know it, but she was already his.
The auctioneer raised his gavel higher. “Right now, if no one—”
“30 million.”
The room collectively gasped, heads turning towards the voice. A fair-skinned man in a dark red suit lounged in his chair, holding his auction board aloft. His expression was smug as if he’d already won.
“Mr. Kinn has doubled the price to 30 million!”
The Man’s eyes slid to the source of the bid. He had just arrived in town and barely knew anyone, but this Kinn person was… indeed popular.
Just as the tension began to settle, another voice rang out.
“35 million.”
“Mr. Vegas, at 35 million!” the auctioneer nearly shouted. “Wow! The diamond is now more than double its worth.”
The Man watched Kinn and Vegas exchange challenging looks, sensing their rivalries. The faint murmur of voices began to rise, and the audience was thrilled by the drama unfolding. Everyone loved watching rich people spit over glittering prizes.
“If there’s no one else, it’s Mr. Vegas at 35 million... first time...” the auctioneer declared. “35 million, second time—”
“40 million,” Kinn snapped, his smile tightening. The air in the room shifted, gasps of amusement rippling through the crowd.
The Man leaned back, pretending disinterest, while Phukan fidgeted beside him. Her pride had evaporated as Kinn and Vegas hijacked her moment. She crossed her arms, her lips pressed into a thin line. “They’re so annoying,” she muttered under her breath.
The Man tilted his head, intrigued. “You know them?”
“I wish I didn’t.”
Beneath her calm exterior, The Man sensed frustration. Her vanity is bruised.
“50 million,” Vegas shot back.
People began clapping, impressed by the battle between cousins. What started as an auction had now become a display of power and pride, the necklace merely a tool. But The Man’s attention remained on Phukan—mourning the loss of attention, the loss of her ‘King of the Night.’
She sighed heavily, a sign of displeasure.
Just a little bit more.
The auctioneer grinned wide, knowing exactly how to fan the flames. “Mr. Vegas bids 50 million... going once...”
“100 million,” Kinn bid.
The Man remained silent, but his heart raced as the momentum shifted. He observed people’s reactions closely: the two men at Kinn’s side whispered furiously, and Vegas clenched his teeth. Phukan’s lips parted as she looked around the room, startled by the escalation.
The Man’s gaze fell on her, slow and deliberate. When her eyes met him, she was already caught.
Now.
“101 million,” the Man said calmly, lifting his auction board.
The crowd erupted, their eyes now on him. The Man flashed Phukan a dazzling smile, and her mouth fell open in surprise, her hands rising to cover her flushed face. She didn’t need to speak for him to know what she was thinking: I can’t believe he’s doing this for me.
“102 million,” Kinn growled, his patience slipping.
“103 million,” The Man countered, not even glancing in Kinn’s way.
Vegas looked between them, baffled, unsure of this new player in the game.
Kinn gritted his teeth. “104—”
“105 million,” The Man cut.
The room held its breath. Kinn was at his breaking point, and his friends pulled him back, urging him to let it go. He opened his mouth like he was about to bid higher, but his eyes suddenly flickered to the bar at the side of the room.
His bodyguard wasn’t there.
Kinn’s expression changed from frustration to sudden dread. Before anyone knew it, he bolted from his seat, leaving the room in chaos.
“And… 105 million, third time. Sold!”
The room broke into applause. The Man stood slowly, pulling Phukan to her feet beside him. She resisted at first, but his gentle tug was impossible to deny. The crowd centered their attention on them, and Phukan basked in it.
The auctioneer grinned. “Congratulations to Ms. Phukan! And… sir, may we know your name?”
The Man smiled widely. “Theerakit,” he announced, lifting Phukan’s hand. “And tonight, I present the ‘King of the Night’ to the most beautiful woman here: Ms. Phukan.”
He kissed her hand, and the crowd swooned. Phukan’s blush deepened, and at that moment, she finally knew she was his.
Hook, line, and sinker.
*
Vegas watched from afar as Theerakit bid Phukan goodbye; the diamond around her neck shimmered under the streetlights. To Vegas’ surprise, a hundred and five million baths weren’t enough to send Theerakit to her bed, and the thought was quite baffling. So, as soon as Phukan drove away, Vegas walked up to the other man, amusement dancing in his eyes.
“All that money for a cold night?”
Theerakit turned, immediately recognizing the familiar voice. He had no interest in Vegas or whatever game he was playing, but forced himself to entertain him anyway.
“Oh, I don’t buy my woman gift just to fuck her,” Theerakit replied. “Sorry if I gave that impression.”
Vegas scoffed, unimpressed. “Let’s not kid ourselves,” he stepped closer. “No one drops that kind of money without expecting something in return.”
Theerakit’s smile wavered; his irritation threatened to surface. Something about this man was off, but he couldn’t put a finger on it. “Of course, I’m after her love and devotion, but you don’t have to know that. It’s a private matter,” he said. “If there’s nothing else, please excuse me.”
Theerakit turned to leave. He thought everything was over, but once he got into the driver seat of his sports car, Vegas showed up again, knocking on his window.
Theerakit took a deep breath before he pressed the window button, rolling it down. “Yes?”
“Just one more thing,” Vegas said, his voice low—but with an edge that made Theerakit’s skin prickle. “Can someone with a rented Ferrari afford a hundred-million-baht necklace?”
Theerakit’s stomach tightened. “I don’t need to buy a car in Thailand. I’m American. I live there.” His voice hardened. “And frankly speaking, how I spend my money is none of your concern.”
Vegas grinned widely, but there was no humor in it. “I see,” he replied. “I’m just making sure you’ve got the cash to cover the bill. I wouldn’t want Kinn walking away with the necklace after all.”
“Oh, don’t worry. I’ve got it,” Theerakit said with a smile. He raised his hand, inviting Vegas to come closer. “But if I may give you some advice…”
Vegas slightly leaned forward, intrigued.
“...Affording it and winning the bid are actually two different things,” Theerakit whispered.
Vegas leaned back, smirking.
Without another word, Theerakit rolled up his window and drove out of the parking lot.
*
As soon as Theerakit walked through the door, a middle-aged woman's voice greeted him.
“Why are you home early?”
Theerakit took off his shoes before walking over to the source of the voice. “Why shouldn’t I? The event is done,” he answered.
Dangwat was lounging on the couch, watching TV. Theerakit kissed her left cheek before settling beside her, laying his head on her shoulder.
“What?” She wrapped an arm around him. “Did you lose the auction?”
“No.”
“Then, why aren’t you fucking her right now?”
Again. Theerakit pulled away briskly, annoyed. “You're the second person who asked me that,” he answered. “She has an important shoot tomorrow and doesn’t want to be late.”
“Well, if you put on an alarm and drive her to the shoot tomorrow morning, she won’t be late, won’t she?” Dangwat replied. “What happened? Are you losing your touch?”
That’s it.
Theerakit stood up, his body convulsing with all the emotions he had repressed for hours—anger, disgust, and disappointment. It was fine to hide everything outside, but he wasn’t having it behind closed doors.
“Then you fuck her,” he spat. “And let’s see if you can do better.”
As soon as the words left him, he regretted it immediately.
Dangwat stared through Theerakit’s soul, her eyes filled with pain and betrayal. Under her gaze, Theerakit was naked. “Is that how you speak to me now?” She asked, low and cold. It sent shivers down Theerakit’s spine. “You’re all grown, so you no longer have to respect me?”
“That’s not it,” Theerakit clenched his jaw. “I’ve already told you that I wanted to stop.”
“You want to stop, then what?” Dangwat shot back, her eyes bloodshot. “You’re going to leave me?”
Theerakit cowered; every inch of his body shrunk into his thirteen-year-old self. His hands clutched his chest, and tears started falling down his cheeks.
She always knew how to make him feel small.
Shaking his head repeatedly, Theerakit rasped out: “No…”
In a flash, Dangwat’s face shifted from anger into pity. She reached out her arms and pulled Theerakit into her embrace. “Sorry for saying that,” she whispered, stroking his back. “Of course, you won’t leave me.”
“I just don’t want to be bad anymore.”
Dangwat retreated, softly cradling Theerakit’s face in her palms. “Don’t say that—we’re just trying to survive,” she wiped away his tears. “There’s nothing bad about it.”
Theerakit wanted to believe it, but he knew it wasn’t true.
Dangwat looked at him in the eyes.
“Everything will be fine.”
Theerakit nodded.
She leaned closer.
He took a deep breath.
She crashed their mouth, her tongue delved past his lips.
*
Everything will be fine.
*
Theerakit lay on his bed, staring blankly at the ceiling. Dangwat slept soundly beside him, but the sound of her steady breathing couldn’t lull him to sleep—maybe because they were bare, and bugs were crawling under his skin.
He had his story down perfectly.
Theerakit was a suave Thai-American millionaire who made his fortune in Silicon Valley. His company’s headquarters were just a few blocks away from the Apple office in Cupertino. He lived in an apartment nearby but often commuted to San Francisco to check on his parents’ mansion in Pacific Heights. He drove a fancy car, lived in a luxurious condo, and only attended exclusive parties for upper-class people.
A woman like Phukan loved the idea of Theerakit. Western enough to seem exotic but familiarly asian—casually had slept with many people, but still looking for ‘the one’ he could settle with. Phukan wasn’t concerned about his past as long as he made her feel special.
Women blinded by their egos couldn’t think clearly. They craved the attention of a man like Theerakit, believing they could be the ones to change him, the ones who could finally tame him. And that’s when they were prone to mistakes—a really bad one.
Theerakit was always ready when that moment came, slipping in to take whatever he wanted before vanishing. He knew the signs well. When these women finally handed him the key to their world, he would disappear, just as he had done countless times before.
Because Theerakit wasn’t his real name. The flashy car wasn’t his. Neither was the condo and the polished image. Everything about him was temporary, a lie crafted for each scheme. When he’d drained this woman dry, he'd run. Then, Dangwat would give him a new name and restart the cycle.
He glanced down at his neck; the hidden ring under his shirt felt heavy.
Everything he did, every con and lie, belonged to Dangwat—the only person who had ever mattered. On the day his father abandoned him, Dangwat had taken him in, cared for him, and raised him like her own. She worked tirelessly, struggling to keep them both afloat, and no matter how hard things got, she never let him fall.
He never understood why she had poured so much into him without a drop of blood relation. But he was nothing without her. He’d be dead if not for her, and that thought bound him tighter to her than any promise he could make. He had married her years ago once he came of age, and despite its strangeness, he was the one who insisted—not her. She never asked him for anything in return, never expected his devotion.
So, changing his name and becoming another person was something he should just do, for he was completely hers.
But sometimes, when the day was bad and the moon was blue, Theerakit wondered if the day where he could finally break free would come. Still the thought of betraying her repulsed him because he knew whoever he was—no one could ever love the disgusting, evil, and manipulative person behind his facade: no one but her.
Not that he really understood what love was.
He didn’t have to.
That night, Theerakit finally turned away from the ceiling and let his tears fall. No one was there to comfort him, but somehow, he preferred it this way.