Kiet loosened his tie, removing his jacket as he made his way up the grand staircase to his bedroom. He opened the door, expecting to see Milo, but the room was empty. A slight furrow appeared on Kiet’s brow as he tossed his jacket onto the bed and glanced towards the bathroom, but Milo was nowhere to be seen.

Stepping back into the hallway, Kiet looked around, a slight frown forming on his face. “Where is he?” he muttered to himself, glancing down the empty corridor. His footsteps echoed lightly as he descended the stairs, eyes scanning for any sign of Milo.

He paused halfway down, spotting one of the household staff. “Where is Milo?” Kiet asked, his voice carrying a firm yet concerned tone. The staff member straightened immediately, sensing the urgency in his question.

“He is in Miss Thanaya’s room, sir,” the staff replied politely, nodding toward the direction of the little girl’s bedroom.

"Okay," he said and walked towards Thanaya's room.

Kiet gently pushed the door open, and his gaze softened immediately. Inside, Thanaya was curled up under her blankets, her small arms wrapped tightly around Milo, who was sound asleep beside her. The sight was serene, almost too perfect—his daughter and his partner, lying together as if they were each other's comfort in the night.

Kiet quietly stepped inside, his footsteps muffled by the plush carpet. A faint smile tugged at his lips as he approached the bed, sitting gently beside Thanaya. He leaned over and kissed her forehead tenderly, brushing a strand of hair from her face. She stirred only slightly, her grip on Milo tightening as if she feared losing him even in sleep.

Kiet’s gaze then shifted to Milo, whose face was soft in the moonlight filtering through the window. There was an undeniable warmth in Kiet’s eyes as he stood and moved to Milo’s side of the bed. Gently, he pried Milo’s arm from Thanaya’s grip, separating them with care. Milo stirred, his brow furrowing slightly at the absence of warmth, but he didn’t wake.

Without hesitation, Kiet slipped his arms around Milo, lifting him effortlessly. Milo rustled against him, murmuring softly but not waking fully. Kiet held him close, feeling the gentle rise and fall of Milo’s breath against his chest. It was a rare, peaceful moment, and Kiet savored the quiet intimacy as he carried Milo out of the room.

Kiet gently closed Thanaya’s door behind him, careful not to disturb the peaceful slumber of his daughter. With Milo still cradled securely in his arms, Kiet made his way back up the stairs, each step deliberate and quiet. The mansion was enveloped in a serene silence, and for once, Kiet felt a rare sense of calm wash over him.

Entering his bedroom, Kiet carefully laid Milo on the bed, smoothing a hand over Milo’s tousled hair as he adjusted the blankets around him. Milo shifted slightly, a soft sigh escaping his lips, his face calm and at ease. Kiet watched him for a moment, unable to resist the tender pull in his chest. 

Without hesitation, Kiet slipped into bed beside him, the mattress dipping slightly under his weight. He wrapped an arm around Milo, pulling him close so that Milo’s head rested against his shoulder. Kiet’s other hand gently traced Milo’s back in slow, comforting strokes. 

Leaning in, Kiet pressed a soft kiss to Milo’s forehead, his lips lingering for a moment as he whispered, “Have sweet dreams, darling.”

Milo stirred at the warmth of Kiet’s touch, instinctively moving closer in his sleep. His arms wrapped around Kiet’s waist, holding on tightly as if seeking the comfort and safety that Kiet’s presence brought. Kiet couldn’t help but smile, feeling the gentle squeeze of Milo’s embrace. 

He settled into the moment, his own eyes growing heavy as the comfort of Milo’s warmth lulled him. It was rare for Kiet to feel this kind of peace, and he savored it, closing his eyes and allowing himself to drift off. With Milo held securely in his arms, Kiet let go of the day’s troubles, his thoughts quieting as he breathed in the soft scent of Milo’s hair. 

The night wrapped around them, and for the first time in a long while, Kiet felt truly at home. The once cold and imposing atmosphere of the mansion, with its vast, empty halls and shadows that clung to every corner, now felt warm and comforting.

Kiet tightened his hold on Milo, feeling the soft rhythm of his breathing against his chest.  The gentle hum of the night surrounded them, and Kiet closed his eyes, soaking in the rare tranquility. Here, in the quiet safety of his room, with Milo tucked securely in his arms.

The Next Day,

Milo and Kiet's Bedroom,

The morning light filtered softly through the curtains, casting a warm glow over the room. Milo stirred, feeling the unfamiliar warmth of an arm draped over him. His heart raced as he opened his eyes, only to find himself nestled in Kiet’s strong embrace. Panic shot through him at first, his mind racing as he tried to make sense of how he had ended up here.

He struggled to pull away, his breath quickening. But as his eyes settled on Kiet’s face—peaceful, calm, and still lost in sleep—Milo’s panic slowly ebbed away. He took a deep breath, trying to calm his racing heart. The way Kiet held him was gentle and protective, and for a moment, Milo allowed himself to relax into that warmth.

Curiosity got the better of him, and Milo found himself staring at Kiet’s face. His features were strong, almost intimidating, but in sleep, there was a softness that Milo hadn’t noticed before. His usually stern expression was gone, replaced by something more vulnerable, almost serene. Milo traced the lines of Kiet’s face with his eyes—the strong jawline, the slight stubble, the way his dark lashes rested against his cheeks.

Suddenly, Kiet’s voice broke the silence, still laced with the drowsiness of sleep. “If you keep looking at me like that,” he murmured without opening his eyes, a faint smirk tugging at his lips, “you might not wake up from this bed.”

Milo jolted slightly, his face flushing as he realized he had been caught. Kiet’s eyes remained closed, but the teasing lilt in his voice was unmistakable. Milo’s initial panic returned in a smaller, flustered form, his cheeks warming as he tried to pull away.

“I-I wasn’t—” Milo stammered, but Kiet’s arm tightened around him, holding him in place.

Kiet finally opened his eyes, meeting Milo’s flustered gaze with a lazy, satisfied smile. “Too late, darling,” Kiet whispered, his voice deep and soft, still holding the traces of sleep. “I think I might just keep you here a little longer.”

Milo’s cheeks flushed a deep red, the warmth spreading all the way to the tips of his ears. He didn’t know how to respond, his thoughts tangled between the sudden rush of embarrassment and the unfamiliar comfort of being so close to Kiet. The softness in Kiet’s voice was unlike anything Milo had heard before, and it sent a small, involuntary shiver through him.

Kiet chuckled softly at Milo’s reaction, the sound low and teasing, and before Milo could even think to protest, Kiet leaned in, pressing a gentle, fleeting peck to Milo’s lips. The touch was brief but deliberate, a soft graze that sent Milo’s heart into a chaotic rhythm. It was barely a kiss, but it left Milo breathless, his eyes widening in surprise.

“K-Kiet—” Milo started, his voice a mix of shock and something he couldn’t quite place.

But Kiet didn’t give him time to finish. He pulled Milo closer, wrapping his arms around him with a possessive yet tender grip. Milo’s face was now inches away from Kiet’s, his body nestled firmly against the warmth of Kiet’s chest. The closeness was overwhelming, and Milo could feel the steady beat of Kiet’s heart against his own, a quiet, reassuring rhythm that seemed to echo in the quiet room.

“Let’s sleep a little more,” Kiet murmured, his breath warm against Milo’s temple. He closed his eyes again, his hold on Milo firm but gentle, as if he had no intention of letting go anytime soon.

Milo’s heart fluttered at the warmth of Kiet’s embrace, a blush rising to his cheeks. For the first time, he felt a sense of comfort and closeness with Kiet that he had never experienced before. It wasn’t just the physical warmth of Kiet’s body; it was the way Kiet held him, protectively and tenderly, that made Milo feel safe.

A small, shy smile tugged at the corners of Milo’s lips as he slowly lifted his arm, hesitating for a brief moment before wrapping it around Kiet in return. The gesture was timid, almost unsure, but it was enough to close the distance between them entirely. Milo pressed himself closer, nestling his head against Kiet’s chest, listening to the steady, reassuring beat of his heart.

As Milo’s arm settled around him, Kiet’s lips curled into a contented smile, his eyes remaining closed.

 Rattanakorn Mansion,

Living Room, Later,

Milo and Kiet stepped out of their room together, descending the grand staircase side by side. As they reached the landing, the sound of cheerful laughter filled the mansion, drawing their attention. Down in the living room, Thanaya was giggling joyfully, her tiny feet pattering across the floor as she took confident steps. Tawan was clapping enthusiastically, and Thanaya’s grandparents were watching with proud smiles, cheering her on.

Thanaya’s eyes lit up as she spotted Milo and Kiet. She broke into a run, her little legs moving faster than ever before. “Daddy, Papa, look!” she exclaimed, her voice bubbling with excitement. “I can walk now! I recovered!”

Milo’s heart swelled with pride, and Kiet’s usual stoic expression softened as he watched his daughter run toward him. Milo couldn’t contain his joy; he bent down, his arms open wide, and Thanaya leapt into his embrace, giggling. “You did it, Thanaya!” Milo exclaimed, hugging her tightly. “You’re amazing!”

Thanaya giggled, wrapping her small arms around Milo’s neck, her face glowing with happiness. “I did, Daddy! I can walk now!”

Kiet watched the scene with quiet pride, his heart warmed by the sight of his daughter’s determination and Milo’s unrestrained joy. He reached out, gently ruffling Thanaya’s hair. “You’re incredible, Thanaya,” Kiet said softly, his voice filled with warmth.

"Thank you, Papa," Thanaya smile widened.

Tawan joined them, tousling Thanaya’s hair playfully. “Our little princess is unstoppable!” he declared, earning a round of applause from everyone.

Just then, Arhit entered the room, holding a large bouquet of vibrant flowers in his hands. Kiet’s gaze was immediately drawn to Arhit, his eyes narrowing with suspicion. He stepped forward, his posture rigid and his expression unreadable. 

“What’s this? Why did you bring flowers?” he asked.

Arhit hesitated, his fingers tightening around the bouquet. His eyes flickered nervously between Kiet and the flowers, his composure slipping slightly. He cleared his throat, adjusting his glasses with a nervous gesture.

“It’s from the second family, sir,” Arhit said, his voice betraying an underlying unease.

The mention of the second family made Kiet’s eyes harden. He took a step closer, his gaze fixed on the bouquet with a mix of suspicion and irritation. “From the second family?” he echoed, his voice low and edged with a controlled fury.

Arhit nodded, his face pale under Kiet’s intense scrutiny. “Yes, sir. It came with a note.”

Kiet’s fingers twitched as he reached out for the bouquet, his movements deliberate and measured. As he took the flowers from Arhit’s hands, he noticed a small, neatly folded letter nestled among the stems. His grip tightened around the bouquet, causing the flowers to shift slightly, and he carefully extracted the letter. His eyes scanned the elegant script, each line fueling the simmering anger beneath his calm exterior.

Tawan, sensing the growing unease, stepped closer. “Brother, what is it?” he asked, his voice tinged with concern.

Kiet’s eyes darkened further, his expression a mask of controlled fury. He clenched the letter in his fist, crumpling the paper slightly.

“It’s an invitation,” he finally said, his voice low and edged with contempt.

Tawan furrowed his brow, glancing between the bouquet and the letter. “An invitation? Invitation for what?”

Kiet’s gaze shifted from the letter to his brother, his voice colder than before. “An invitation for getting the rarest blue diamond,” he replied, his tone dripping with irony.  

His words hung in the air, heavy and bitter, a challenge disguised as a cordial gesture. The mention of the rare blue diamond was unmistakable—Sarut’s thinly veiled threat, his way of pulling Kiet into a dangerous game.

Kiet’s gaze shifted to Thanaya and Milo, who were still caught up in their own moment of joy, completely unaware of the looming danger. Thanaya’s laughter rang out, sweet and innocent, as Milo ruffled her hair, both of them wrapped in a world far removed from the shadows gathering around them.

A flicker of something crossed Kiet’s face—fear, perhaps, or anger at the thought of that happiness being shattered. His hand tightened around the crumpled letter, his jaw clenched as he vowed silently to protect them from whatever was coming.

Tawan stepped closer to Kiet, his voice dropping to a serious tone that was rarely heard from him. “Brother,” Tawan said, his voice calm but edged with urgency. “They are definitely planning something.”