Four men had entered—
clearly wealthy and powerful based on the way the staff rushed to accommodate them—and were being led to a booth near Rain and Prapai's.
Prapai's heart rate kicked up. Right on schedule.
The four men were Kinn, Porsche, Vegas, and Pete, dressed casually but expensively, talking among themselves like old friends out for lunch.
They hadn't noticed Rain and Prapai yet—or rather, they were pretending not to.
As they passed Rain's booth, Porsche "accidentally" stumbled, catching himself on their table.
"Oh my god, I'm so sorry!" Porsche exclaimed, his expression genuinely apologetic. "Are you both alright? I didn't spill anything, did I?"
"We're fine," Rain assured him quickly, ever polite. "Don't worry about it."
Kinn appeared at Porsche's shoulder, his hand steadying his husband. "Sorry about him. He's always been clumsy." His eyes landed on Rain, and something flickered in his expression—assessment, curiosity. "We really are sorry for the disruption."
"It's no problem at all," Rain said with a smile.
Pete had moved closer as well, his gentle eyes studying Rain with an intensity that might have been alarming if his expression wasn't so kind. "That's a beautiful design you're working on," he said, gesturing to Rain's tablet, which displayed his community center project. "Are you an architecture student?"
Rain's face lit up—he always came alive when talking about his work. "Yes! I'm in my final year. This is my thesis project."
"Sustainable design," Vegas observed, reading over Pete's shoulder. His cold eyes warmed slightly.
"Ambitious. Most students go for flashy and expensive."
"I think architecture has a responsibility to heal, not harm," Rain explained, unconsciously echoing what he'd told Prapai weeks ago. "Buildings should give back to the communities they serve."
Kinn smiled—a genuine smile that reached his eyes. "That's a refreshing perspective. I'm in real estate development, and I wish more designers thought like you."
Prapai watched the interaction carefully.
His family was good— Nothing in their demeanor suggested this was anything but a chance encounter.
Rain had no idea he was being evaluated by some of the most dangerous men in Thailand.
"Where are our manners?" Porsche said suddenly. "I'm Porsche, this is my husband Kinn. And these are our friends Vegas and Pete."
"I'm Rain. And this is Pai."
Prapai nodded acknowledgment, playing along. "Nice to meet you all."
"Would you mind if we joined you?" Pete asked, his tone hopeful. "All the other tables seem to be full, and it's rare to meet someone with such passion for sustainable design. My husband and I support several environmental charities, and we're always looking for fresh perspectives."
Rain glanced at Prapai, clearly uncertain.
Prapai gave a slight nod—it's okay.
"Sure," Rain agreed. "We'd be happy to have the company."
As the four men settled around their table, Prapai marveled at how smoothly they'd engineered this.
Within minutes, they'd gone from strangers to lunch companions, and Rain—sweet, trusting Rain—suspected nothing.
The conversation flowed naturally.
Porsche was charming and funny, asking Rain about his favorite buildings and sharing stories about his own college days.
Kinn discussed sustainable practices in real estate development, engaging Rain in a technical conversation that had Rain's eyes sparkling with enthusiasm.
Vegas was more reserved, but his questions were sharp and insightful, pushing Rain to defend and expand on his ideas in ways that clearly delighted Rain.
And Pete... Pete watched Rain with an expression that Prapai recognized: the look of someone seeing themselves in another person's trauma.
"So, Rain," Porsche said after they'd ordered another round of drinks, "tell us about yourself. Family? Hobbies? What do you do when you're not designing buildings that will save the world?"
Rain's expression dimmed slightly. "My family... I lost my parents a few years ago. Car accident. It's just me now."
Pete's hand moved across the table, covering Rain's briefly. "I'm so sorry. That must have been difficult."
"It was," Rain admitted. "I think that's part of why I'm so passionate about creating spaces that feel safe and nurturing. I know what it's like to feel alone and vulnerable. I want to design places where people feel protected."
The weight of that statement hung in the air.
Prapai saw understanding dawn in Pete's eyes, saw Porsche's expression soften with sympathy, saw even Vegas's cold mask crack slightly.
"You have friends, though?" Kinn asked carefully. "Support system?"
"I have Sky—he's my best friend. He's been amazing through... everything." Rain's smile was warm but sad. "I used to have more friends, but over the past few years, I sort of... drifted away from people. I've been trying to reconnect lately."
"And your boyfriend?" Porsche asked, his tone casual but his eyes sharp. "The one you're on a break with? Is he supportive of your dreams?"
Rain's entire body language changed—shoulders tensing, smile fading, fingers fidgeting with his napkin. It was such a stark transformation that all four men noticed immediately.
"He... he says he is," Rain said carefully, each word chosen with precision. "He's very proud of me. Sometimes maybe too proud? Like he wants to show me off, but..." Rain trailed off, seeming to realize he'd said too much.
"But?" Pete prompted gently.
Rain looked up, and Prapai saw conflict warring in his eyes—the need to defend Phayu against the growing realization that his relationship was indefensible.
"But I think our versions of success are different," Rain finished diplomatically. "He wants me to be successful, but on his terms. In ways that fit his life. And I'm starting to realize that maybe I need to be successful on my own terms first."
"That's very mature of you," Kinn said, and he sounded like he meant it. "A lot of people never figure that out."
"Speaking from experience?" Rain asked, a teasing note entering his voice.
Kinn and Porsche exchanged a look—one of those couple looks that conveyed entire conversations.
"Let's just say," Porsche replied with a grin, "our relationship had a very rocky start. Kinn was... let's call it 'intensely protective' to the point where I felt more like a prisoner than a partner."
Rain's eyes widened. "Really? You seem so perfect together now."
"We are," Kinn confirmed, his hand finding Porsche's. "But it took work. It took me realizing that loving someone doesn't mean controlling them. That trust means giving them freedom, even when it scares you. That partnership means respecting boundaries, not bulldozing them."
The message was clear, even if Rain didn't realize it was directed at Phayu through him.
"How did you... how did you get past it?" Rain asked, leaning forward, hungry for answers. "How did you make it work?"
"Communication," Porsche said. "Brutal honesty. And therapy—lots of therapy. We had to tear down everything and rebuild it on a foundation of actual trust and respect, not possession and fear."
"And if one person isn't willing to do that work?" Rain's voice was small. "If they think nothing is wrong?"
"Then you have to ask yourself if you're willing to spend your life with someone who doesn't respect your needs," Pete said quietly. His eyes met Rain's, and Prapai saw Rain realize that Pete understood—really understood. "Some people can't change, Rain. Or won't. And you can't love someone into being who you need them to be."
Rain looked like he might cry. "That's what Sky keeps telling me."
"Sky sounds like a good friend," Vegas said. "You should listen to him."
The conversation shifted to lighter topics after that, but the damage—or rather, the help—had been done. Prapai could see Rain processing everything, could see the walls around his denial starting to crack.
When lunch ended, Porsche insisted on paying for Rain and Prapai's meal. "Think of it as an investment in the future of sustainable architecture," he said with a wink.
As they all stood to leave, Pete pulled Rain aside slightly.
"Rain," he said softly, "I don't know your situation, and I won't presume to. But I want you to know something." He pulled out a business card. "If you ever need help—any kind of help—you can call this number. No questions asked, no judgment. Sometimes we all need someone in our corner."
Rain took the card with shaking hands. "Thank you. That's... that's really kind of you."
"I mean it," Pete said, his eyes intense. "Any time, day or night. You don't have to face things alone."
After the four men left, Rain turned to Prapai with wonder in his eyes.
"They were amazing," he said. "How incredible that we just randomly met them."
"Yeah," Prapai agreed, guilt twisting in his gut. "Random."
But there was nothing random about it. And as Prapai walked Rain back to campus, he couldn't shake the feeling that they'd just set something in motion—something that would either save Rain or destroy them all.
[Phayu's Penthouse - Same time]
Phayu sat in his private office, watching the live feed from the restaurant on multiple screens.
He'd had cameras installed there months ago—it was one of Prapai's favorite spots, and Phayu liked knowing where his family went.
He'd watched the entire lunch.
Watched Prapai and Rain laughing together.
Watched his fathers and uncles "accidentally" meet Rain. Watched them charm him, bond with him, plant seeds of doubt about Phayu's relationship.
Because that's what this was—an intervention. The family had turned against him, had decided Rain was the victim and Phayu was the villain, and now they were all working together to take Rain away from him.
Phayu's phone rang. Kinn.
"We met your boyfriend," Kinn said without preamble. "Charming boy. Clearly traumatized. We need to talk about this, Phayu."
"There's nothing to talk about," Phayu replied, his voice dangerously calm. "Rain and I are on a temporary break. We'll work through our issues."
"Will you? Because from what we saw today, those 'issues' include you isolating him from friends, controlling his life, and terrifying him into submission."
"You don't know anything about our relationship."
"I know enough," Kinn shot back. "I know that boy flinches when relationships are mentioned. I know he's lost weight, looks exhausted, and has the demeanor of someone suffering from prolonged stress.
I know Pete recognized the signs of emotional abuse because he lived through them with Vegas."
"Don't compare me to what Vegas was," Phayu snarled. "I love Rain. I've never hurt him."
"Haven't you?" Kinn's voice softened, not with kindness but with pity. "Phayu, I'm saying this as family who loves you: you need help. Professional help. This obsession you have with Rain—it's not love. It's not healthy. And if you don't get it under control, you're going to lose him permanently. You might already have."
"Is that a threat?"
"It's a fact. Rain is going to leave you, Phayu. Whether it's tomorrow or next month, he's going to realize he deserves better. And when he does, you need to let him go. Because if you don't..." Kinn paused.
"If you hurt that boy, if you do anything to harm him, family or not, there will be consequences."
"You're choosing him over me," Phayu said, his voice hollow with betrayal. "Your own son."
"I'm choosing the version of you that we raised to be better than this," Kinn corrected. "The Phayu who understood honor and respect. That's the son I'm trying to save. The man you're becoming? I don't recognize him."
The line went dead.
Phayu sat in silence, his mind racing. They'd all turned against him. Kinn, Porsche, Vegas, Pete, Prapai—all of them. They thought Rain needed saving from him.
They were wrong.
Rain needed him.
Rain loved him, even if he was confused right now, even if the family was poisoning his mind. All Phayu had to do was remind Rain of what they had, of what they could be.
He pulled up his messages to Rain, started typing.
Phayu: I heard you met some interesting people today. Kinn and Porsche are family friends, by the way. Small world. Hope they didn't say anything to confuse you about us. I love you, baby. Always will.
The message was sent before he could reconsider.
Let Rain know that Phayu had eyes everywhere.
Let him understand that there was no escaping, no moving on.
Rain belonged to Phayu.
And it was time to remind him of that...