Bangkok's humid evening pressed against the tinted windows of the luxury black sedan, parked uselessly on a quieter stretch outside the bustling city center.
The skyline glowed in the distance, neon lights already flickering alive, but here, the car sat silent, its engine dead.
Inside, is Sanya Rattanakosin, daughter of one of Bangkok's wealthiest casino owners, sighed impatiently.
Her legs, long and toned, crossed restlessly as she tapped a jeweled nail against the leather armrest.
She was dressed to be noticed, silk blouse, diamond studs glittering against her ears but instead of walking through the gilded entrance of Phoenix Royale Casino like a queen, she was trapped in the heat.
Her driver stood outside, sweating as he leaned over the engine.
"This is taking forever," she muttered in Thai, her tone sharp.
"We should already be at the casino. Dad will be furious."
Before the driver could apologize again, a sound of footsteps echoed faintly down the narrow road.
A figure emerged, casual yet commanding in presence.
From the car window, Sanya's sharp eyes caught only jeans hanging low on slim hips, worn sneakers, and a white T-shirt clinging damp with sweat.
Tattoos inked across a forearm peeked from under a sleeve, and in one hand, a cigarette burned slowly.
Sanga narrowed her eyes.
"Ask her if she can help," she ordered flatly, refusing to lower her window.
The driver hesitated, then hurried to the stranger.
Minutes later, as if by magic, the engine sputtered back to life.
The sound startled Sanya, her irritation cracking into curiosity.
She leaned forward, watching her driver chatting animatedly with the stranger.
Her pride wrestled with impatience before finally winning.
She pushed her door open, stepping out with the elegance drilled into her since childhood.
Her gaze lifted.
And froze...
The stranger straightened from the hood, tossing tools into a bag with careless ease.
She dragged her fingers through damp, messy hair, sweeping it back to reveal sharp cheekbones and lips that glistened as if touched by sunlight.
Sweat glided down her throat, catching in the hollow of her collarbone.
She smelled faintly of smoke and grease, but something about it was magnetic, intoxicating even.
Lek Saetang, Sanya didn't know her name yet looked up briefly, eyes dark and unreadable, then nodded once.
"You're all set," Lek said in a low, husky Thai accent, voice steady but edged with fatigue.
She slid her cigarette behind her ear and started walking away, unbothered, like she hadn't just rescued a millionaire's daughter from humiliation.
Sanya's lips parted, but no sound came.
For the first time in her life, the spoiled heiress, who always had something clever or biting to say was left speechless.
By the time she regained herself, Lek's figure was already shrinking into the distance, swallowed by Bangkok's restless streets.
Her chest tightened, hot with frustration she didn't understand.
She slammed her door shut, glaring at her bewildered driver.
"Who was she?" Sanya demanded.
The driver stammered.
"I… I didn't ask, khun San. She didn't want money. Just said to take care."
Sanya's teeth ground together.
"Find her," she hissed, voice trembling with something far too close to desperation.
"I don't care how. Just find her."
Bangkok's neon glow glittered across her car window as they drove off.
But no matter how many lights flashed or how loud the casino would roar that night, Sanya knew her mind would not leave the image of that woman, sweat-damp and boyishly charming, who walked away before she could even speak..