CHAPTER 17
The glowing screens in Inthorn's bunker showed every detail of the remote safehouse where Kawin and Noi were hiding.
Inthorn watched the heat signatures, the quiet movements inside, a cold smile playing on his lips.
He had enjoyed his little games-the lullaby, the red ribbon, and especially the photo of Anurak Siriprasert, Kawin and Noi's father.
Those were just appetizers. Now, it was time for the main course. He wanted Noi back, and he wanted him now. The thought of Noi, the boy who carried the blood of his mother's betrayer, yet also held a strange, undeniable pull for Inthorn, burned in his mind.
"Their defenses are minimal, Master," Dae reported, his voice low and efficient. "One active sentry, Thirawat. The building is a simple, reinforced structure, but not a fortress."
Inthorn's eyes, dark and sharp, never left the screen.
"Good. We move now. No hesitation. No unnecessary noise.
I want them brought back alive, both of them.
" He emphasized the "both," his gaze fixed on Kawin's moving shape on the screen.
He needed Kawin, too, not just as a pawn, but as a witness to his absolute power, and perhaps for a more twisted, personal form of torture later.
He had personally chosen the team for this mission: his most elite, silent operatives.
They were shadows in the night, moving with deadly precision, trained to disable, not destroy.
Inthorn himself would lead, observing from a short distance, ensuring every step went according to his plan.
The heavily armored, matte-black vehicle that carried them moved like a silent predator through the pre-dawn darkness towards the safehouse.
They arrived. The team spread out, disappearing into the shadows. Inthorn watched on a portable screen inside his vehicle as they moved. The first guard outside fell silently, a quick, brutal movement. Then, the breach. They moved into the safehouse like a dark tide, swift and unstoppable.
Inside, Kawin and Thirawat fought back, just as Inthorn expected.
The feed showed quick, violent flashes of combat.
Kawin, despite being a police officer, was outmatched by the sheer number and brutal efficiency of Inthorn's trained killers.
Thirawat, injured from the previous fight, still moved with fierce determination, his movements a blur of desperation and skill.
A figure on the screen, one of Inthorn's largest men, moved specifically towards Thirawat. There was a sickening thud, and Thirawat went down, not dead, but definitely out of the fight. Inthorn narrowed his eyes, satisfied. Thirawat would be left as a bloody message.
Then, two more of Inthorn's men moved towards Noi.
Noi, small and already broken, barely struggled.
He was easily scooped up, a small, limp doll in their arms. Kawin roared, a raw, animal sound, and lunged forward, but he was quickly overwhelmed.
Restraints were placed on him, securing him in seconds.
Inthorn watched as Kawin was dragged out, his face a mask of furious despair.
In that moment, Inthorn felt a profound satisfaction.
He had taken them. Both of them. What was his, now truly belonged to him.
The vehicle hummed softly as the captive brothers were brought inside, and Inthorn nodded, turning away from the screen.
The hunt was over. The embrace had begun.
_____
Darkness. A suffocating, crushing darkness.
Kawin lay on something hard and cold, his hands bound tightly, his mouth gagged.
Every inch of his body screamed in protest. Bruises bloomed across his skin, a testament to the brutal fight.
But the physical pain was nothing compared to the agony in his heart.
He could hear Noi. A soft, muffled whimper from somewhere nearby.
He strained against his restraints, desperate to reach him, to shield him.
He remembered Noi's face during the capture-eyes wide with a terror that went beyond screaming, a silent, profound horror.
And then, Inthorn's cold, triumphant gaze, fixed on him as Noi was taken.
It was a silent declaration: He is mine.
The image of Thirawat, bleeding and unmoving on the floor of the safehouse, flashed through Kawin's mind. Thirawat had fought like a lion, sacrificing himself. He was left behind, a sign that Inthorn was not just powerful, but merciless.
His father's face, from the photo Inthorn had sent, swam before his eyes.
Anurak Siriprasert, loyal guard to Pramote Thanawanich.
The truth felt like a poisoned dagger in his chest. Inthorn hadn't just kidnapped them; he'd pulled them into a generational war, a vendetta rooted in a past Kawin had never known.
He was tied to this monster by blood, by secrets, by his very existence.
Where were they going? What would Inthorn do to Noi?
The thoughts spun in his head, a dizzying spiral of fear and desperate guilt.
He had tried to protect his brother, to shield him from the darkness, but he had only led him deeper into the serpent's embrace.
There was no escape now. Only whatever horrors Inthorn had planned.
_____
In the grand, chillingly opulent ancestral mansion, the Thanawanich family moved with renewed purpose. This was their home, a place steeped in their gruesome history. Pramote Thanawanich presided from a heavy, high-backed chair at a vast table, his face a mask of grim satisfaction.
"Inthorn has done it," Wimondevi announced, her voice precise and cool. "He has taken the boy and the elder brother. Our sources confirm their capture. He keeps them within his own mansion, consolidating his assets."
Sarut smiled, a hungry, unsettling look on his face. His husband, Thanit, chuckled beside him. "The little rabbit is safely back in the cage. Makes our job easier, doesn't it?"
Wimondevi gave a slight, dismissive wave of her hand.
"His obsession with the boy is a weakness we will exploit.
He will be so focused on his precious Noi, he will not see the blade until it's at his throat.
" She turned to the others: Kannika, Suthida, and Thanaboon, who listened with grim attention.
"We accelerate our timeline," Pramote declared, his voice resonating with authority.
"The orchid bloom is upon us." He spoke of the precise date of Nicha's death and forced consumption, a date that symbolized their family's dark power and unity.
"On that night, we will strike. We will not wait.
He believes he controls the game, but he has simply gathered all his treasures in one vulnerable place. "
Wimondevi moved to a large map of the city, not Inthorn's mansion, but the surrounding areas, plotting strategic points.
"Our forces are being moved into position.
We will cut off his escape routes. We will neutralize his key personnel.
Our assault will be swift and overwhelming.
And when it is done, the Thanawanich name will belong only to us. "
She paused, a fleeting glance towards a specific, ancient part of the mansion, a place only she knew held her secret. The preserved body of a man, a dark trophy. A silent testament to her own twisted desires.
The family was tightening their coils. They were the original serpent, ancient and powerful, now ready to unleash their full might against Inthorn, the arrogant pretender to their throne.
They were completely unaware that Inthorn's knowledge of Noi's lineage, and his own dark plans, might turn their meticulously crafted "triumph" into a bloodbath of unimaginable proportions.
The stage was set for a devastating clash.