Chapter Text

Bones and Brains

Until freedom finds us

Chapter 1

Polished doll

The city stretched endlessly beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows, bathed in the pale gold of dawn. From the seventy-second floor of ​98 Wireless, the streets below looked insignificant, tiny streams of light weaving between steel and glass.

Por barely spared the view a glance. His morning had already been planned down to the minute.

6:00 a.m. Wake up. 6:30 a.m. Exercise. 7:15 a.m. Breakfast. 8:00 a.m. Leave for headquarters.

The schedule had remained unchanged for years. Routine was efficient. Efficiency was expected. Perfection was everything.

A chauffeur held open the car door the moment he stepped outside.

"Good morning, Young Master."

Por offered a polite nod. "Good morning."

The Rolls-Royce Ghost pulled away from the estate without delay. As it merged into traffic, he opened the tablet resting on his lap and reviewed the day's reports.

He was immediately greated by his secretary as soon as he stepped foot into the company building.

"Nine o'clock, quarterly earnings review. Ten-thirty, acquisition proposal meeting. One o'clock, lunch with the investors from the Eastern District. Three o'clock, international expansion briefing. Four-thirty, strategy meeting with the board. Six o'clock, charity gala."

The secretary didn't pause for breath.

"The updated projections have already been sent to your tablet. The legal department is awaiting your signature on three contracts, and the overseas branch has requested a conference call regarding next quarter's targets."

Por closed his eyes briefly, trying to memorize his schedules. To other this might sound like an overwhelming hectic day but to him, it was just another day and another list of responsibilities.

People often envied his position as the eldest heir of one of the most powerful families in Asia. The future chairman of a business empire worth trillions.

The public saw him as a brilliant young heir, investors trusted him, and financial magazines often praised his potential. Por accepted their compliments with the same polite smile every time, knowing they were not directed at him as a person, but at the position he held as the family's heir.

By the time he arrived at his floor, the lobby was already bustling with activity. Employees straightened the moment they saw him.

"Good morning, Director." "Morning, Mr.Suppakarn." "Director."

He acknowledged each greeting with practiced ease.

The board meeting began exactly at nine. Three hours later, it ended with unanimous approval. The tension in the boardroom finally evaporated. The acquisition would proceed, the heavy paperwork shifting from a threat to a promise.

Across the mahogany table, the investors leaned back, their tight expressions softening into satisfied smiles. Nearby, the directors let out a collective breath they seemed to have been holding for months, their shoulders dropping as relief washed over their faces.

One of the senior executives laughed as they exited the conference room.

"At this rate, Young Master, you'll surpass the chairman himself."

Several others nodded in agreement.Another added,

"The old chairman must be proud."

Por smiled. A small, courteous smile the kind expected of him. The compliments he received were nothing but empty words buttering up to him.

"You're too kind."

The conversation moved on...... no one noticed the way his fingers tightened around the documents in his hand.

The family estate stood on a hill overlooking the city- grand, ancient, and beautifully untouchable. It possessed all the structure of a home, yet it offered none of the warmth, its freezing stone walls serving only as a striking monument to the unpleasant memories trapped inside.

Home

The word felt strange every time he thought of it.

A servant greeted him at the entrance. "The Old Chairman is waiting in the study."

"Of course he was." He grumbled to internally.

Por surrendered his overcoat to the waiting hands of the houseman and climbed the marble stairs in silence. He found the study door already propped open, a tacit invitation. Inside, his grandfather anchored the room from behind a commanding 19th-century mahogany desk, dissecting a stack of legal reports with clinical precision.

The older Enigma didn't look up when he entered.

"You secured the acquisition."

"Yes, Grandfather."

"It took three days."

The words cut through the room, heavy and deliberate. Por’s posture remained perfectly rigid.

"Yes."

A page turned, the sound sharp against the quiet, still atmosphere.

"The younger one estimated he could have done it in two."

Outside, the evening sky bled a deep orange. Inside, the achievements of the afternoon evaporated, leaving behind a cold, hollow weight.

Finally, the old man looked up. His gaze offered no anger, only a quiet, clinical evaluation.

"As the future heir," he said, his voice flat, "you should not require a comparison to understand where you have fallen short."

Por kept his chin level, though his eyes dropped to the floor.

"I understand."

"You understand," his grandfather repeated, "yet you continue to disappoint."

For a long moment, neither spoke.

Then the old man slid the file to the edge of the desk.

"There is another matter."

Por waited, clenching his jaw just enough to keep his breathing measured.

"A proposal has been received."

A slight crease formed between his brows. "A business proposal?"

"No."

For the first time that evening, his grandfather’s expression shifted. The change was microscopic, a slight tightening at the corner of his mouth.

"A marriage proposal."

The air in the room suddenly felt heavy, static. The old man continued, his tone identical to the one he used for discussing quarterly profits.

"The other family has already expressed interest."

He looked directly at Por.

"The proposed partner is Wanpichit."

The study remained suffocatingly quiet. Across the desk, the old man simply watched, his stillness demanding a reaction.

Por held his breath steady, forcing the sudden, tight pressure in his chest to stay hidden behind a blank stare. Of all the scenarios he had mentally prepared for before opening that door, this had never crossed his mind.

Least of all with that person.

"…Teetee Wanpichit?"

The old man gave a single, slow nod. "The heir of the Orion Group."

The formal title hung in the air, an unnecessary piece of information. Everyone in the country knew the name. Everyone knew the sole successor to the largest corporate empire on the continent.

An Enigma.

A man whose name appeared in financial magazines almost as often as his own. A rival. Por looked down at the documents resting between them. The shock faded, replaced by a cold, familiar clarity. Marriage among families like theirs was never about affection. It was a transaction, a negotiation conducted with bloodlines instead of contracts.

"What are the terms?"

The question earned him a faint, microscopic nod of approval. It wasn't praise, instead... it was an acknowledgment that Por had asked the practical question. The correct question. The heir's question.

"The merger will solidify our leverage across both sectors," his grandfather said, sliding a thick folder across the mahogany. "The details are inside."

He took it without hesitation, though the weight of the paper felt disproportionately heavy in his hands. Inside lay pages of financial reports, projected growth charts, asset evaluations, and political advantages. There was not a single mention of a life.

Hours later, the bedroom was entirely dark, save for the single lamp illuminating Por's desk. The proposal remained open before him, the white pages stark against the side table.

Beyond the glass, the city lights blurred into a distant, unnoticed shimmer. Por’s attention remained entirely anchored to the single photograph clipped to the file.

Teetee.

The image had been captured at a formal gala. He wore a dark, impeccably tailored suit, his posture effortlessly composed. Tall, broad-shouldered, and entirely unbothered by the camera, he embodied everything an Enigma was expected to be. Everything society revered.

Everything he had spent a lifetime trying not to measure himself against.

Por’s thumb pressed hard against the edge of the glossy paper, leaving a faint crease. It was a ridiculous impulse. "Childish......" He scoffed to himself as he forced his hand to relax, pushing the bitterness aside.

There was no purpose in comparing their statures, or their secondary genders, or the trajectories of their lives. Comparison changed nothing.

The baseline reality remained absolute. Teetee was an Enigma. Por was not.