Kiet's grip on Milo's arm was ironclad as he dragged him toward the sleek, black car parked outside. The neighborhood had fallen eerily silent, the usual bustle replaced by a tense stillness as Kiet's men stood guard, their presence alone enough to deter any curious onlookers.

"Get in," Kiet ordered, opening the car door and shoving Milo inside.

Milo hesitated for a moment, glancing back at his home one last time, and it made his heart ache. He climbed into the car, the door slamming shut behind him with a finality that sent a shiver down his spine.

Inside the car, the atmosphere was thick with tension. The air was heavy with the lingering scent of cigarette smoke, and the windows were tinted so darkly that they blocked out the world outside. Kiet slid in beside him, his expression unreadable, and the car roared to life. The engine's purr was the only sound as they pulled away, leaving Milo's house—and his old life—behind.

Milo sat rigidly, his hands clenched into fists on his lap. He could feel Kiet's gaze on him—a predatory look that made his skin crawl. The silence between them was suffocating, each second stretching out into an eternity.

"Do you understand what you've done?" Kiet's voice finally broke the silence, low and menacing.

Milo nodded, unable to find his voice. His throat was dry, and his mind raced with fear and uncertainty.

"Good," Kiet continued, his tone cold. "Because there are no second chances."

Milo swallowed hard, his eyes darting to the gun resting casually on Kiet's lap. The gleaming metal was a stark reminder of the brutal reality he had been thrust into.

"Why are you doing this?" Milo managed to whisper, his voice trembling.

Kiet leaned back, a cruel smile playing on his lips. "Because I can. And because you and your family need to understand that there are consequences for crossing me."

Milo's heart pounded in his chest. He felt like he was suffocating. He wanted to scream and fight back, but he knew it would be futile. As he glanced at Kiet, who seemed almost relaxed, he couldn't shake the feeling of dread that settled in his stomach. The silence in the car became a void, filled with Milo's unspoken fears and the terrifying uncertainty of what lay ahead.

                                                                                       ***

Rattanakorn Mansion,

The car glided to a stop in front of the grand Rattanakorn mansion, a sprawling estate surrounded by high walls and guarded gates. As the car doors opened, Kiet's men, dressed in sharp black suits, lined up in a silent, disciplined row to welcome their boss. Their presence was intimidating, each one a silent sentinel, adding to the oppressive atmosphere.

Arhit opened the door, and Kiet stepped out of the car, exuding an aura of command and menace. He glanced back into the car where Milo sat, paralyzed by fear and uncertainty. Milo's heart raced as he took in the sight of the mansion, its grandeur overshadowed by the darkness of his new reality.

"Get out," Kiet ordered, his voice sharp and impatient.

Milo hesitated, his hand gripping the edge of the car seat. The enormity of his situation hit him all over again, and he felt as if his legs might give out beneath him. Kiet, seeing Milo's reluctance, leaned in and grabbed his arm, yanking him out of the car with a force that made Milo stumble.

"Move," Kiet growled, dragging Milo forward.

Milo tried to steady himself, but his legs felt like jelly. He could feel the eyes of Kiet's men on him, their expressions unreadable but their presence suffocating. They watched curiously, wondering who this new, frightened young man was.

Kiet didn't bother with introductions. He marched straight through the grand foyer, dragging Milo behind him. The staff's whispers followed them, but Kiet paid no attention. 

As they approached the grand entrance, the large doors swung open, revealing the opulent interior of the Rattanakorn mansion. The inside was a stark contrast to the cold, intimidating exterior. Lavish decorations adorned the hallways and expensive artwork lined the walls, but Milo could find no comfort in the luxury around him. 

They ascended the grand staircase, the ornate banister gleaming under the dim lights. Milo's heart pounded in his chest as he tried to keep up, tripping over his own feet. At the end of the hallway, Kiet pushed open a large, imposing door and dragged Milo inside.

The room was lavishly decorated, with dark, rich colors and luxurious furnishings. But there was an air of coldness to it, a stark contrast to the opulence. Kiet closed the door behind them with a decisive click, the sound echoing ominously.

He released Milo's arm, only to shove him against the wall, pinning him there with his body. Milo gasped, his breath knocked out of him. Kiet's hands gripped his wrists, holding them above his head.

"Welcome to your new home," Kiet whispered.

Milo tried to push back, but Kiet's strength was overwhelming. He was trapped, completely at Kiet's mercy.

Milo's breath hitched as Kiet's hand slid down to his neck, his fingers lightly brushing against the skin. The touch was electrifying, sending shivers down Milo's spine—a confusing mix of fear and something else he couldn't quite name.

Kiet leaned in, his breath warm against Milo's ear. "You will learn to obey, Milo. And you will learn to please me."

Milo closed his eyes, a tear slipping down his cheek. He felt trapped, ensnared by Kiet's presence and his touch. The room felt smaller, with the walls closing in on him.

"Look at me," Kiet commanded softly.

Milo opened his eyes, meeting Kiet's gaze. The intensity in those eyes was overwhelming—a mix of desire and dominance that made Milo's knees weak.

Kiet continued, his breath hot against Milo's neck. "You will do exactly as I say. Do you understand?"

Milo nodded, his eyes wide with fear. He could feel the heat radiating from Kiet's body and the intensity of his gaze burning into him.

"Say it," Kiet demanded, his voice a low growl.

"I understand," Milo whispered, his voice trembling.

Kiet's grip tightened for a moment before he finally released Milo's wrists, letting his hands fall to his sides. Kiet's hand cupped Milo's chin, forcing him to look up and meet his gaze. 

"Remember this moment, Milo," he said. "Because it marks the beginning of your new life."

Without another word, Kiet leaned in, his lips crashing against Milo's in a kiss that was both possessive and fierce. There was nothing gentle about it; it was a claim, a branding. Milo felt Kiet's dominance in every movement, every press of their lips, and every sweep of his tongue.

Milo's initial instinct was to pull away, to resist, but Kiet's grip on his chin tightened, holding him in place. Kiet's other hand slid around Milo's waist, pulling their bodies flush against each other. The heat between them was intense, almost suffocating.

Milo's senses were overwhelmed by Kiet's presence—the taste of cigarettes and something uniquely Kiet on his lips, the rough scrape of Kiet's stubble against his smooth skin, the hard press of Kiet's body against his own. There was an undeniable power in Kiet's kiss—a raw, unyielding force that left Milo breathless.

Kiet's tongue demanded entry, and Milo, with a mix of fear and reluctant surrender, parted his lips. The kiss deepened, becoming even more intense. Kiet explored Milo's mouth with a hunger that left no room for doubt about who was in control. It was a kiss that spoke of possession, of dominance, and of an unyielding claim.

Milo's hands, initially frozen at his sides, slowly moved up to grip Kiet's shoulders, his fingers digging into the fabric of Kiet's shirt. The world outside the room seemed to disappear, leaving only the two of them locked in this fierce, possessive embrace.

When Kiet finally pulled back, both of them were breathing heavily. Milo's lips were swollen, and his mind was spinning from the intensity of the kiss. Kiet's eyes were still locked onto his, filled with a dark satisfaction.

"You belong to me now," Kiet said, his voice a rough whisper. "Remember that."