Chapter 2
Usually, P'Lek, or Anima, the channel's renowned producer with whom she had collaborated many times, went to bed no later than 2:00 AM. She had delivered a cold ultimatum: if Wattshachon did not make contact tonight, the role she had been cast in would be surrendered to someone else.
"How are we going to get in? This estate is massive. Can I drive my car inside?" Shanya asked urgently once Sakol finished his radio call.
"Certainly. I'll follow on the golf cart."
Having reached an agreement, Pudpitchaya offered a wide, grateful smile and hurried to drive her car in first. She wedged her vehicle among dozens of luxury cars lined up along the curve of the driveway before following Sakol inside. With the sharp memory of an actress accustomed to memorizing scripts, she noted the brands, colors, and license plates, recognizing several cars belonging to actors she knew, though Wattshachon's was missing. However, the actress had just sold her car a few days ago.
'Fon said she couldn't afford the installments, so she sold it cheap. I left the old clunker from my house for her, but I don't know if she'll actually use it,' Wan Hom, or Vikrant—her Queer manager who maintained a male appearance but possessed a distinctly feminine flair—had told her during their call that evening.
The young woman looked up at the grand structure that broadcasted the estate's immense wealth and let out a heavy sigh. A rush of cold air hit her as she stepped into the hall, which was clearly set up for an event. Trays of food and beverages were still lined up, and a few servants were cleaning. They all turned to stare at her with wide eyes. One of them—likely the middle-aged head housekeeper—squinted through her glasses with a cold, stern expression.
"Who have you brought here at this hour, Sakol?"
"It's Khun Shanya! The actress who plays Khun Saiyud in the primetime drama—the one who's even prettier than the leading lady!" one of the servants interjected, looking at her with adoration. "You're so beautiful. Kamlai has never seen an actress as gorgeous as you."
"Don't be overzealous. I didn't ask you." The woman scolded her so harshly that the girl shrank back.
"I'm here for a friend..." Pudpitchaya offered a respectful wai. "Her name is Wattshachon. I have urgent business with her because I can't reach her by phone. Sakol took pity on me and brought me here to ask permission from Khun Wasawatt."
"Is that so, Khun Rojana?" Sakol laughed sheepishly. "Have you seen the Master, ma'am?"
"Khun Wes just arrived. They're likely talking in the study. But what business is so urgent that it couldn't wait?" The housekeeper asked the actress, her gaze dismissive.
"Work," she replied shortly, certain she was met with a roll of the eyes in return.
"I'll take Khun Shanya up now."
"Inform him before you lead a guest in," she ordered before turning back to supervise. As Pudpitchaya followed Sakol away, she could still hear the woman's voice drifting: "Well! Now that she's gone, get back to work! Don't just stand there gawking. Or do you want to quit and find an easy job, dressing up pretty and selling yourselves like modern girls these days..."
"I apologize for the head housekeeper," Sakol said softly as they climbed the staircase. "She doesn't like actors much. She says they're just 'people who eat by dancing and singing.'"
Pudpitchaya couldn't help but giggle. She had just thought the same—if the housekeeper were in the period drama she had just finished, she'd fit the role perfectly. "People still think like that?"
"She's an old-timer from Khun Ying's days, so no one dares to argue with her."
"Khun Ying Warinrampai? Khun Watt's mother?"
"Yes. She lives in an old palace not far from here. This wing was built when Khun Watt first returned from abroad. They used to live here, but when the Tycoon retired, they moved, leaving Khun Watt here alone."
So he celebrates by hosting parties several times a year, constantly inviting his playboy friends, Pudpitchaya thought, shaking her head as she stood before a door.
"Khun Shanya, please wait. I'll see if Khun Watt is inside." Sakol knocked and disappeared. He returned shortly with a grimace. "Khun Wes says Khun Watt has gone to bed."
"Khun Wes?"
"Khun Phanthakan, Khun Watt's close friend."
She didn't care which Phanthakan it was because she was losing her patience. "Then how am I going to find my friend?"
"Khun Wes didn't say where Khun Watt is. He only said he gave his own room to the Master. He said this isn't the time to track people down, and guaranteed that no one dies in this house."
Arrogant fool!
"In that case, I'll speak to Khun Wes myself."
Sakol couldn't stop her. The actress opened the door without a second's hesitation. The guard rubbed his head; following her seemed inappropriate as the heavy door shut behind her.
Phanthakan glanced up at the slender figure standing over him on the sofa. In his large hand was a glass of alcohol; on the table sat a nearly empty bottle.
"You should knock first, beautiful."
"I'm anxious. I apologize, but I must see Khun Wasawatt..."
Pudpitchaya stopped as the large man sat upright. He downed his drink before glancing at her again. He was incredibly tall; even standing, she felt his presence as if he were looming over her while sitting. The dim light didn't hide their features as Phanthakan set the glass down. His sharp eyes locked onto her shimmering dark brown eyes before an eyebrow quirked up.
"Watt went to sleep. Hasn't he paid your fee yet?"
That question made her take a deep breath. "I'm here for a friend, not a fee."
"At this hour?" His hooded eyes surveyed her figure with an intent that made her meaning clear. Heat spread to her face. She blamed herself for not grabbing a coat, as her dress was revealing. Yet she stood still, refusing to be shamed by his leering.
"In my profession, we work irregular hours," she said, chin up like a queen.
"I suppose so. Want to do some overtime today, babe?"
She wanted to claw his handsome, mixed-heritage face. "I'm here for a friend named Namfon. Real name Wattshachon. I won't find her without seeing Khun Watt."
"I haven't met anyone by that name." Phanthakan leaned back, fascinated. What a woman—sexy and desirable in every inch. Even her sharp glare was alluring.
"I know she was invited. Khun Wasawatt's guard confirmed it."
"Then she left, because I didn't see her."
The housekeeper said he just arrived, what would he know! "If you would tell me where Khun Wasawatt is, I will ask him myself."
And let his lecherous friends see her too?! "Not a good idea to disturb him now."
She touched her pink tongue to her lips in unease, unaware it sent the onlooker's every pore into full alert.
"I know it's late, but I only want to ask a few questions."
"Are you sure, babe, that your purpose is just to ask?"
"What do you mean?!" She began to breathe heavily, losing her temper.
The man smirked. The kitten puffing herself up was incredibly cute. "Do you often use excuses like this to meet your targets, Sexy?"
"Targets?" She didn't grasp it for a moment before steam blew from her ears. "I—do—not—sell—myself."
His mouth widened into a soul-crushing smile, crashing into her like a hybrid supercar. It caused her heart to flip.
"Let's make a trade then, babe. For anything you like, sweetheart."
She tried to recover, surveying his large frame to mock him. Yet he appeared flawless, reclining with an authoritative posture—like a young Pharaoh choosing a slave girl for the night.
"Sorry. I only trade with men who are truly 'big' and generous." She curled her lip.
The handsome man laughed delightedly. "Then you've come to the right place, sweetheart."
"Offering like this... are you that rich?!" she gritted out.
"Richer than Tycoon Bancha. I guarantee that being my woman means no 'Major Wife' to fear, because I don't have an owner yet," he interjected before she could finish.
Pudpitchaya finally learned what it felt like to be blind with rage as she lunged toward him. The next second, his face snapped to the side from the force of a slap that left her palm stinging. His eyes flashed with a harsh spark. She didn't step back.
"I'm sorry, but you shouldn't have mentioned my uncle. He has a hundred times more virtue than you. Oh!"
She was pulled onto his hard frame. A large hand locked behind her nape, while the other pinned her against him before his hot, alcohol-scented mouth pressed onto hers. The on-screen antagonist was at a loss as his tongue aggressively explored her soft mouth. A large hand slid to her back as he crushed her with a heavy kiss. She should have been repulsed, yet the touch was a hot, dangerous whirlwind she could not resist. Finally, she tore herself away.
"Le... Let go!"
She only got one word out before she was snatched back onto the sofa. Her bare back touched the cold leather. A large hand pulled down her dress, revealing her strapless bra and full bosom to his hungry, burning eyes.
"You're breathtaking, sweetheart..."
His voice broke into a roar as she slapped him a second time—hard enough to sober him. She struggled, trying to strike his weak spot, forcing him to pin her down with his strong leg.
"Why are you so damn fierce!"