Miu's POV

The morning light in Pattaya was different from Bangkok, it didn't fight its way through smog, but drifted in like a soft, golden liquid, illuminating the minimalist white marble of the room.

I stretched, my body feeling a strange, pleasant ache that acted as a vivid map of the night before. I reached out, my hand searching for the warmth of the woman who had spent the last eight hours proving she was mine, but all I found were cool, rumpled silk sheets.

The bed was empty.

I sat up, pushing my hair back, a small, private smile tugging at my lips. I was usually so composed, so hyper-aware of my surroundings and the image I projected to the world. 

But last night... last night, something in me had bloomed, wild and untamed. 

It was the Lena Effect, I thought to myself, letting out a soft, breathless laugh. She was the only person who could make me lose my mind and find my soul at the same time. 

My heart felt so dangerously full, so impossibly happy, that for a moment, I allowed myself the luxury of wishing the clock would just stop here.

As I rolled over to where she should have been, something caught my eye. Resting on the pillow was a piece of heavy, cream-colored stationery.

I recognized the handwriting immediately. It was elegant, the loops of the letters graceful and confident. Seeing it now brought a sudden, sharp rush of memory, a ghost of a moment from what felt like an eternity ago.

I remembered the first time she had left me a note. I had been running then, hiding in the hotel, terrified of the gravity she pulled me with. I could almost see it again: the dark wood of the dining table, the single white lily, and that silver tiffin carrier that felt like a peace offering from another world.

"I am looking forward to the moment you finally stop running. Welcome home."

I traced the memory of those words in my head before looking down at the new note in my hand. 

I looked down at the new stationery in my hand, the paper still smelling faintly of the sweet perfume Lena wore.

Miu,

My father sent Hans to fetch me for the terrace before the sun was even fully up. Apparently, proportions wait for no one, not even his daughter. I think he just wanted to see if I could still look him in the eye this morning. I can. I do. Because of you.

But before I had to report for duty, I went out to find something for you. A reminder that while everything else feels like it's chaos, the company, the families, the noise—there is only one true thing: I love you. And I will never, ever get tired of reminding you of that every single day. It's a surprise, waiting for you downstairs.

Take your time. My mother has threatened to banish anyone who dares to knock on this door.  

I'm yours—in every lifetime, every line, every heartbeat.

Lena.

I clutched the note to my chest, a small, breathless laugh escaping me. I wasn't running anymore. I wasn't hiding in a hotel suite trying to outrun the inevitable. 

I was home.

I dressed quickly, opting for a simple silk slip dress that felt soft against my sensitized skin. I didn't bother with much makeup; the flush on my cheeks and the brightness in my eyes were more than enough. I caught a glimpse of the mark on my collarbone in the mirror, the one Lena had left with such possessive intent and I didn't feel the urge to hide it. It was a badge of belonging.

I stepped out of the bedroom and made my way through the quiet, sun-drenched halls. The house felt different this morning...it felt strangely peaceful.

As I rounded the corner into the dining room, the scent hit me before the sight did. It was fresh, heady, and sweet....the unmistakable fragrance of white lilies.

There, in the center of the long, minimalist table, was a sprawling, chaotic arrangement of them. They weren't tucked into a neat, professional vase this time. They were everywhere, overflowing from several crystal pitchers, their pristine white petals glowing intensely against the morning light streaming through the floor-to-ceiling windows.

It was a sea of my favorite flowers, a stark, beautiful rebellion against the sharp lines of the room.

I walked toward them, trailing my fingers over the cool, velvet-soft petals. Beside the flowers sat a single cup of coffee, still steaming, and a small plate of fresh pastries.

She remembered. She always remembered.

As I stood there by the lilies, the glass doors to the terrace slid open with a soft hiss. Lena emerged first, followed closely by Klaus. I froze, my hand still resting on a velvet-soft petal, but the sight that met me made my heart swell with a sudden, fierce pride.

Lena was talking. Really talking. She wasn't standing in the rigid stance she usually adopted around her father. Her shoulders were relaxed, and a soft, genuine smile was plastered on her face, the kind of smile she usually reserved for our quietest moments in Bangkok.

Then, her eyes found mine.

The change was instantaneous. That genuine smile shifted into something deeper, something that made my knees feel weak, a look of pure, unadulterated devotion. She crossed the room, the distance between us vanishing in a few long strides, and wrapped her arms around me. She smelled like home.

"Did you like the surprise?" she whispered against my temple, her voice thick with a tenderness that ignored the fact that her father is standing right there.

"I love them," I replied enthusiastically, pulling back just enough to beam at her. "I love them so much, Lena."

"And I love you." Lena replied which made my heart want to explode.

I looked past her to see Klaus watching us. His expression wasn't the analytical, cold look of the day before. It was... tender. There was a softness in his eyes that I hadn't thought possible for a man made of steel and concrete.

"I have never seen her like this," Klaus said quietly, his hands tucked into his trouser pockets. He looked at his daughter as if seeing a new wing of a building he thought he had already finished. "In all those years... Lena never once brought Mak home to introduce him to us."

I blinked, the surprise rippling through me. "Wait... never?" I looked at Lena, my mind racing. "Why?"

Lena just shrugged, a small, nonchalant tilt of her head as she tightened her arm around my waist. "I really didn't think it was necessary," she said simply. Her voice didn't hold any malice toward my brother, just a chillingly practical indifference that made my heart ache for the years she had spent playing house without ever feeling like she had a home.

Klaus gave a short, dry chuckle. "It is a relief she didn't. I would have known right then and there that he was not fit for my daughter. He would have been... decorative. But not structural."

Lena let out a playful huff, leaning her head against my shoulder while still keeping her eyes on her father. "So, you think Miu is fit for me then? Is that your expert opinion, Dad?"

The teasing note in her voice made my heart skip a beat. She was actually pushing him, testing the new boundaries of their relationship with a lightness she hadn't possessed twenty-four hours ago.

"At least she tells me when I am suffocating," Klaus countered, a faint, begrudging smirk touching his lips.

"It's about time!" Ananya's voice rang out as she swept into the room, a bright tray of fruit in her hands. 

She stopped, her eyes darting between her husband and daughter, her face lighting up with joy. 

"To see the two of you engaging in friendly banter... it's a miracle. Lena, you hate to admit it, but you are so alike with your father in more ways than you would ever want to admit. Stubborn, brilliant, and far too dramatic."

As the maids began to serve breakfast, the scent of fresh coffee and congee filling the room, the morning took on a domestic rhythm that felt like a dream. I began carefully collecting the lilies from the pitchers, and Ananya moved to my side, helping me arrange them into a tall, crystal vase with practiced, graceful hands.

We sat down to eat, and for the first time, the clinking of silverware wasn't an interrogation. It was a conversation. Lena sat beside me, her hand resting on my knee under the table, her thumb tracing slow, soothing circles.

I watched her laugh at a story her mother told, watched her challenge her father on a design choice, and I realized that this was the family Lena had only ever dreamed of. The walls hadn't just come down; they had been redesigned into something that let the light in.

Ananya leaned forward, her elbows resting on the table as she watched us with an uncharacteristic curiosity. "So," she started, her eyes twinkling, "how did the two of you actually happen? "

She knew, of course. People like the Schuetts always knew the skeletons in the closet before the door was even closed. But she wanted the soul of the story.

I looked at Lena, who gave me a slight, encouraging nod. I turned to Ananya with a grin. "Actually, I had her in my palms before she even knew I existed," I said, earning a sharp, amused look from Lena.

I told them the story, the funny, honest version. I described how I'd spend hours looking at Mak's pictures and updates from London, my eyes always gravitating toward the sharp-featured German girl in the background. 

I told them how I tried to bury those feelings when I finally moved back to Bangkok, how I tried to be the good daughter and sister.

"But it was impossible," I said, giving Lena a mock-unimpressed look. "She was so hot and cold. One day she'd be the perfect professional, and the next, she'd look at me like I was a puzzle she couldn't solve. I didn't know what to do with her."

"I was professional," Lena defended herself, though the blush creeping up her neck betrayed her. She turned to her parents, her voice softening. "I didn't expect her to be... well, Miu. I expected an arrogant, self-obsessed heir who needed hand-holding. I didn't expect someone so naturally beautiful, so funny and grounded, and so terrifyingly intelligent."

Lena's gaze drifted to me, and for a moment, it was like the room disappeared. "The first time my eyes landed on her in her father's library... my chest did a sommersault. Call me old-fashioned, but the world just stopped. It was love at first sight, if that even existed, though I had to downplay it. I didn't want to scare her away."

"You did a great job," I teased. "You were freezing. But no matter how cold she got, I wasn't backing away."

We told them about the breaking point, the birthday, the rare Leica camera that cost more than a car, and the moment we both realized that duty was no longer enough to keep us apart.

When we finished, a heavy silence settled over the table. I braced myself. I expected a lecture on morality, or at least a look of disappointment. Instead, Ananya reached out and squeezed my hand, her eyes shimmering with a mixture of love and a lingering trace of pity.

"No one should be crucified for finding true love," Ananya said softly. "What the two of you did... it does not justify the hurt caused to a good man like Mak. But time heals. And a life spent lying is no life at all."

Klaus, who had been silent for most of the story, finally set his coffee cup down. He looked at Lena, then at me, his gaze incredibly steady.

"The world is built on foundations," he said, his voice deep and gravelly. "Most people build theirs on what others expect of them. Those structures always crumble eventually. But a foundation built on truth? It can withstand any storm."

He leaned in, his expression turning uncharacteristically fatherly. "Don't look back at the rubble, Lena. Look at what you are building now. Protect it fiercely, because the world is not kind to things it cannot categorize."

I saw Lena's chest swell, her eyes glassing over with a rare, raw tenderness at her father's words. It was the blessing she never thought she'd receive.

The heavy, ornate doors of the Schuett estate didn't feel like the gates of a fortress anymore. As we stood on the gravel driveway, the morning sun glinting off the Gulf behind us, the air felt light. For the first time, leaving this place didn't feel like an escape; it felt like a departure from home.

Klaus stood with his hands tucked into his pockets, his posture still straight and formidable, but the edge of his silhouette had softened. He looked at Lena, his gaze lingering on her face as if memorizing the way she looked when she was happy.

"You should visit again," Klaus said, his voice gruff, directed more toward the horizon than at us. He cleared his throat, trying to regain his usual stoicism. "The guest wing is far too quiet, and Hans complains he has no one's technical drawings to critique. You are both... more than welcome."

It was the closest the man would ever get to saying I miss you, but the message was received. Lena stepped forward and did something I suspect she hadn't done in years, she reached out and squeezed his arm.

"We will, Dad. And next time, I'll bring some of my unfinished blueprints. I want your proportions check on the atrium."

Klaus's eyes sparked with a brief, proud light. "See that you do."

Ananya didn't bother with stoicism. She pulled us both into a fierce, fragrant hug, smelling of citrus and expensive lotion. When she pulled back, she kept her hands on our shoulders, her eyes dancing with maternal intent.

"And don't think for a second you're off the hook just because you're back in Bangkok," she warned, wagging a finger at us. "I am coming to that apartment of yours next week. I've seen the photos, it's far too bare. I am going to restock your fridge with things that aren't instant noodles, and we are going to buy some much-needed decor. That place needs a soul, and I have just the interior designer in mind."

"Mommy, we're fine," Lena laughed, though she didn't pull away.

"You are fine in a museum, Lena. You need a home," Ananya countered, then looked at me with a wink. "I'll bring lilies, Miu. Fresh ones."

As we climbed into the car, I looked back at them standing there, the rigid architect and the vibrant diplomat. They stayed on the driveway until we reached the main gate, a small but significant shift in the world we had known.

Lena reached over the center console, her fingers lacing through mine. She took a deep breath, the salt air fading as we turned onto the main road toward the highway.

"That went... better than a dream," she whispered, her thumb stroking the back of my hand.

"It was perfect," I agreed, leaning my head back against the seat. "They love you, Lena. And they're rooting for us."

The peace was absolute. The domesticity was sweet. But as the skyline of Pattaya began to shrink in the rearview mirror and the green signs for Bangkok began to appear, the weight of the city started to settle back onto my shoulders. 

We were leaving the sanctuary. We were heading back into the storm.

The highway markers were counting down the kilometers to Bangkok, and with every one we passed, the golden glow of Pattaya felt like it was receding into a dream. Lena's hand was still warm over mine, but the air in the car had grown heavier.

Then, my phone buzzed in the center console.

It simply said: Papa.

My heart did a slow, painful thud against my ribs. I felt Lena's grip tighten instinctively. She didn't look away from the road, but I saw the muscles in her jaw lock. I hesitated for a second, my thumb hovering over the screen, before I finally swiped to answer.

"Hello?"

"Miu." My father's voice was lower than usual. It lacked the sharp, booming authority that usually preceded a lecture or a command. He sounded... tired. "Are you nearly back?"

"An hour away," I managed to say, my voice steady despite the tremor in my hands.

There was a long pause on the other end—the sound of a heavy sigh, the rustle of papers. "I spoke with Klaus this morning. He told me you were both well."

I looked at Lena. She was staring straight ahead. My father talking to Klaus meant the bridge hadn't been burned yet. It meant they were still talking CEO to CEO, father to father.

"We are," I said softly.

"I am not calling to demand you come to the estate today," he said, and the lack of a command felt more jarring than the command itself would have been. "Your mother has been... persuasive. She says you need time to breathe. So, come see me when you feel ready to talk. 

I felt a lump form in my throat. I had expected a war; I hadn't expected a white flag. "Okay, Papa. We will."

"But Miu," he added, his voice dropping to a somber, jagged edge. "You should know. Your brother... Mak has not left his room in three days. He isn't speaking to me, to your mom. He isn't speaking to the board. He has effectively disappeared while sitting right in front of us."

The line went dead before I could respond.

I slowly set the phone back down. The silence in the car was now deafening. Lena glanced at me, her eyes searching mine for the damage report.

"What did he say?" she asked, her voice hushed.

"He wants to see us... eventually. Whenever we're ready," I whispered. I looked out the window as the first high-rises of the Bangkok outskirts began to pierce the horizon like jagged teeth. "But Lena... it's Mak. He's shut everyone out. He's just... gone."

Lena's grip on the steering wheel tightened I could hear the leather creaked. I could see the wheels turning in her head, the Director's brain, always looking for a structural fix, always trying to repair the breach.

"I'll go," Lena said suddenly, her voice dropping into that low, decisive tone she used when a project was failing. "I'll go to the estate tonight. I'll talk to him, Miu. Just the two of us."

I turned to look at her, my heart sinking. "Lena..."

"No, listen," she urged, glancing at me briefly before returning her focus to the congested Bangkok traffic. "He's hurt, but he's always respected my honesty. If I explain it to him...how it wasn't a game, how it was inevitable, maybe he'll start to listen. I can take the brunt of his anger. I should take it. I'm the one who was supposed to be his partner. I'm the one who broke the contract."

She was trying to be the shield again. She wanted to walk into the line of fire so I wouldn't have to. It was the most Lena thing she could do, but it made my stomach churn with a sickening sense of dread.

"I think that's a terrible idea," I countered, my voice sharper than I intended.

Lena blinked, surprised by my tone. "Miu, we can't just let him rot. If your father is stepping back, then Mak is the only thing standing between us and... well, everything."

"That's exactly why you can't be the one to go," I said, reaching over to put my hand on her arm, trying to ground her. "To you, this is a crisis to be managed. To him, you are the woman he loved who chose his sister. If he sees you right now, Lena, it won't be an explanation. It'll be a taunt. Every word you say about how much you love me will just be another salt grain in the wound."

I looked out at the smog-heavy skyline, the skyscrapers of the city feeling like bars of a cage.

"When Mak is hurt, he doesn't want logic. He wants to feel the weight of his own pain. If you go there now, you're not offering him a bridge, you're just showing him exactly what he lost. It's not a good idea, Lena. Not yet."

Lena let out a long, frustrated breath, her fingers drumming against the steering wheel as we crawled through the stagnant Sathorn traffic. 

I could see the battle happening behind her eyes, the part of her that wanted to conquer this problem vs. the part that finally understood some things couldn't be solved with a meeting.

"So we just... wait?" she asked, her voice tight. "We sit in that apartment while your brother disintegrates in a dark room? Miu, I've spent my life avoiding the 'wait and see' approach. It feels like cowardice."

"It's not cowardice, Lena. It's mercy," I said softly, my eyes fixed on the red glow of the brake lights ahead. "If you go there now, you're the Director coming to settle a debt. But to Mak, you're the woman who was his entire future. You can't be both right now."

She didn't argue further, but the silence that followed wasn't the comfortable one we'd shared in Pattaya. It was brittle. Every time the car jolted forward in the stop-and-go traffic, the tension in the cabin ratcheted up another notch. The city felt smaller than it had two days ago, the familiar landmarks of the Bangkok skyline, the Pixel building, the luxury malls, now feeling like witnesses to our scandal.

Lena's POV

Miu's words about Mak were still ringing in my ears. You're just showing him exactly what he lost.

It gnawed at me. Not because I regretted choosing her—I would burn the world down again just to wake up next to her but because I hated that I couldn't simply command this situation into order. I was used to being the architect, the one who drew the lines. Now, I was just a woman in a car, watching the woman I loved worry about a man who wasn't me.

"Lena," Miu said softly, her hand sliding over my tensed forearm. "You're white-knuckling the wheel again. Let's stop. Just for a minute. I need some air that doesn't smell like highway exhaust before we face the apartment."

I glanced at her. She looked exhausted, her eyes reflecting the neon lights of the city. My heart softened, the sharp edges of my frustration blunting instantly. "Okay. There's a quiet bistro near the park. We'll stop there."

Ten minutes later, we were standing at a high marble table on a terrace, the humid Bangkok air swirling around us. I watched Miu as she leaned against the railing, the city lights catching the gold in her eyes. I felt a sudden, primitive surge of protectiveness. 

She is mine. In a city that wanted to judge her, in a family that wanted to cage her, she's the only thing that's truly mine.

"Miu? Miu Taechamongkalapiwat?"

The voice was high, melodic, and entirely too familiar with the way it rolled over Miu's name.

I stiffened. A woman approached us, tall, wearing a tailored silk dress that screamed old money, her hair falling in perfect, expensive waves. She was undeniably attractive, the kind of woman who knew exactly how much space she was allowed to take up in a room.

"It is you!" the woman chirped, stepping into Miu's personal space, about six inches closer than was strictly necessary. "I'm Pear. My family owns the Sahakit grocery chain. It's absolutely absurd that we haven't met yet, considering our fathers are practically on every board in this city together."

Miu, ever the diplomat, offered a polite, dazzling smile. "Oh, hello. Yes, I think I recognize the name."

"I've seen you in the journals, of course," Pear continued, her eyes doing a slow, appreciative sweep from Miu's face down to her heels. It wasn't a look of recognition; it was a look of appetite. "But they don't do you justice. You're much more... captivating in person."

I felt my ears begin to burn. A low, steady heat started at the base of my neck and climbed. Miu, bless her oblivious heart, just laughed lightly.

"That's very kind of you, Pear."

"We should definitely grab a drink sometime," Pear said, her hand reaching out to brush Miu's arm, a lingering, tactile move that made my vision tilt. "Without all the business talk. I've been looking for a reason to get closer to the Taechamongkalapiwat circle."

I stepped forward, my movement sharp and deliberate. I didn't realize I was doing it until I was standing so close to Miu that our shoulders were touching, my shadow completely eclipsing the other woman's.

"My girlfriend is busy," I said, the words vibrating in my chest like a low, dangerous growl.

I didn't just stand near her; I claimed her. I wrapped my arm around Miu's waist, pulling her flush against my side so firmly there wasn't a breath of air between us. 

I felt Miu startle slightly at the sudden possessiveness, but I didn't loosen my grip. I wanted Pear to see the contrast, the cold, hard lines of my silhouette against the soft, radiant curve of Miu's.

Pear's eyebrows arched, her smirk deepening into something truly wicked. She didn't look away. Instead, her eyes dropped to where my hand was splayed over Miu's hip, my fingers digging slightly into the fabric of her dress.

"Girlfriend," Pear repeated, tasting the word like a vintage wine she intended to steal. "A bold title. Especially in this city, where titles change as quickly as the seasons." She took a slow step forward, undeterred by the frost radiating off me.

Pear purred, her voice dripping with a challenge that made my blood boil. "I didn't realize Miu was being... guarded so closely. But then again, a woman like her deserves someone who knows her value. I've always enjoyed a bit of a struggle for the best things in life."

She turned her attention back to Miu, ignoring me entirely as if I were nothing more than a minor architectural flaw. "Call me, Miu. I think you might find my company a lot more... flexible than what you're used to."

The audacity was one thing, but then Pear did something that made the air in my lungs turn to ice. She reached over to the table, grabbed a cocktail napkin, and scribbled something with a flourish.

She didn't hand it to Miu. She tucked it, deliberately, slowly, into the small pocket of Miu's blazer, her fingers trailing intentionally down Miu's shoulder as she did. Then, she looked me dead in the eye, gave Miu a slow, playful wink, and sauntered away into the crowd.

I didn't breathe. I didn't blink. I simply reached out and plucked the napkin from Miu's pocket as if it were a piece of filth that had landed on a masterpiece.

"Lena?" Miu asked, her voice tilting with surprise.

I didn't answer. I looked at the neatly written phone number, the digits mocking me and I tore it.

I didn't just rip it; I shredded it.

"My girlfriend is busy," I repeated, my voice a jagged edge. "Forever."

"Lena, it was just a napkin!" Miu said, though I could hear the tiny, breathless laugh catching in her throat. She wasn't scared of me; she was fascinated.

"It was an intrusion," I corrected. I grabbed her hand, my grip firm, possessive, and entirely non-negotiable and began pulling her toward the car.

"Lena, your ears are literally crimson," Miu said, her voice a mix of worry and hidden mischief. She reached out to touch my arm, but I kept my hands locked on the steering wheel, my knuckles ghostly white. "She was just being—"

I pinned her against the side of the car, my hands on either side of her head, the heat from my palms radiating through her hair.

"If you say friendly, Miu, I might actually lose my mind," I bit out, my gaze dark and sweeping. "She wasn't networking. She was scouting. She looked at you like you were a piece of land she wanted to develop, and I don't care how many grocery stores her family owns."

I repeated, my voice flat. "She touched you, Miu. Twice. And she looked at me like I was an obstacle to be cleared. When someone looks at you like they have a right to even think about touching you... it makes me want to remind this entire city who you belong to. I don't share. Not a look, not a touch, and certainly not a phone call."

I helped Miu into the passenger seat with more urgency than necessary, my movements jerky and sharp. I didn't get into the driver's side immediately. Instead, I began frantically rummaging through the center console, tossing aside charging cables and parking receipts with a focused, silent intensity.

Miu sat back, her head tilted, watching me with that maddeningly amused expression. "Lena? What on earth are you looking for? The blueprints for a fortress?"

I didn't answer. My fingers finally brushed against a familiar plastic package. I pulled them out with a triumphant, cold snap: Wet wipes.

Miu's eyebrows shot up. "Wet wipes? Are you planning on detailing the car right now? Because I think we have bigger problems."

I still didn't say a word. I pulled out a fresh, cool wipe and leaned over the console, invading her space until she was pressed back against the leather seat. 

I took her hand, the one Pear had brushed and began to wipe her skin with meticulous precision. I moved to her shoulder, dabbing at the fabric of her blazer where that woman's fingers had lingered.

"Lena," Miu breathed, her voice a mix of a laugh and a gasp. "You can't be serious. It was a three-second touch."

"It was three seconds too long," I bit out. I finished with the wipes, tossed them into the bin, and then leaned in even closer.

I didn't pull away. Instead, I pressed my lips to her palm, right where I had just cleaned it. Then, I moved to her shoulder, pressing a lingering, firm kiss through the silk of her dress.

"Reclaiming my territory," I whispered against her skin, my voice a dark, possessive rasp. "I don't care who they are or what they own. No one lays a finger on you, Miu. Not even a graze. If anyone is going to touch you, to mark you, to hold you... it's me. Only me. And I'm going to remind you of that later that the only touch you'll remember is mine."

I pulled back just enough to look into her eyes. The amusement in her gaze had vanished, replaced by a heavy, hooded heat that told me she finally understood. 

I wasn't just being difficult; I was being primal.

"I don't like sharing my masterpieces," I added, my thumb tracing the line of her jaw. "And you are the only one I intend to keep."

The drive from the park to the apartment was a blur. I could feel Miu's gaze on me, sharp, curious, and increasingly heated. Every time I shifted gears, my arm brushed hers, and I could feel the electricity jump between us, a live wire that neither of us was willing to cut.

I didn't stop at the concierge. I drove straight to my private parking bay, killed the engine, and for a long moment, the only sound was the cooling metal of the car ticking in the silence of the garage.

I turned to her. In the dim, overhead lighting, Miu looked ethereal and entirely mine.

"You're still doing it," Miu whispered, her voice low and slightly breathless. She leaned across the center console, her scent, lilies and that soft, floral perfume filling my lungs. 

"The jaw-clenching. The Director glare. I didn't expect the great Lena Schuett to be this territorial. I have to admit, Lena... it's making me incredibly..."

She didn't finish the word, but the way her eyes dropped to my mouth said everything. 

"It's a very dangerous look on you."

"Then you should know better than to let grocery heiresses touch you," I rasped, my hand reaching out to tangle in the hair at the nape of her neck. I pulled her closer, my thumb grazing the pulse point at her throat. It was frantic. "I told you, Miu. I don't play well with others."

I leaned in, my lips an inch from hers, the possessive fire from earlier settling into a deep, heavy ache. I wanted to carry her upstairs. I wanted to lock the world out and spend the rest of the night proving that every inch of her skin belonged to the woman who had designed a life around her.

"Let's go up," I murmured against her lips.

We didn't speak in the elevator. We couldn't. The tension was a physical weight, pressing us against the glass walls. 

The moment the doors chimed and opened into my foyer, I didn't even give her a chance to kick off her shoes. I pressed her against the cool wood of the door, my hands finding her waist, my mouth finally crashing onto hers with all the territorial hunger I'd been suppressing since the bistro.

Miu let out a soft, needy whimper, her hands sliding up my chest to grip my shoulders. This wasn't the gentle romance of Pattaya. This was Bangkok. This was us against the world, and right now, the only thing that mattered was the heat.

I began to trail kisses down her jaw, my mind already calculating the quickest way to get her to the bedroom, when it happened.

THUD. THUD. THUD.

A heavy, violent pounding shook the door behind Miu's head. It wasn't a knock; it was a demand.

We both froze. Miu's eyes snapped open, wide and filled with sudden, cold dread. The air in the room didn't just cool, it turned to ice.

I stepped back, my protective instincts flaring as I shielded Miu with my body. I looked at the security monitor mounted by the door. The image was shaky, the person on the other side swaying violently, but the silhouette was unmistakable.

Mak.

****

Note:

You guys thought, didn't you?! 

I see you holding your breath for the R-18 scenes, but let's be real, three chapters of pure spice in a row would be absolutely brutal for your heart rates. I have to keep you on your toes! We've had the lilies, we've had the jealousy, and we've had the disinfecting kisses... but now? 

Now it's time for the bill to come due 😉

Oh, and also, I created a LenaMiu One-Shot Collections if any of you guys are interested in seeing our girls be put on different tropes 🤪