"I need to get ready for college," he muttered to himself, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. But as he opened his eyes and looked around, the unfamiliar surroundings jolted him fully awake. The lavish room, the expensive furniture, and the opulent décor were stark reminders that he was far from home.

"That's right. I am not in my house," Milo mumbled, the reality of his situation hitting him anew.

The sound of water stopped, and the bathroom door swung open. Kiet emerged, a towel wrapped loosely around his waist, his hair damp and tousled. His chiseled physique was on full display, with an angry snake tattoo on his forearm, telling stories of violence and power. Milo’s heart raced faster at the sight, fear mingling with an unwilling attraction.

Kiet's eyes fixed on Milo, a smirk playing on his lips. "What are you mumbling about?" he asked, his voice carrying a lazy, dangerous edge.

Milo snapped out of his thoughts, his heart pounding. "I... I have to get ready for college," he stammered, the routine words feeling foreign in this new reality.

Kiet's expression hardened. "No, you're not going to college today."

"But... but I have to," Milo protested, his voice trembling. "It's my last day to submit my project."

Kiet's eyes narrowed, his irritation evident. "And why should I care about your project?"

Milo took a deep breath, summoning the courage to speak. "Please, it's important to me. Just let me go this one time. If I don't go, I'll fail the course. It's my future."

Kiet stopped in front of him, looking down with a mix of amusement and mild irritation. "Your future," he repeated, as if testing the weight of the words. "You seem to forget, Milo, that your future now belongs to me."

Milo's eyes filled with fear, but he didn't back down. "I know, but... please. Just this once. Let me go to college and submit my project. After that, I'll do whatever you want."

Kiet stared at him for a long moment, his gaze unwavering. Finally, he sighed, a look of reluctant acceptance crossing his face. "Fine. But you're not going alone. Arhit will take you, and he'll bring you straight back here when you're done. Understood?"

Milo nodded quickly, relief flooding through him. "Thank you."

Kiet turned away, continuing to dry his hair. "Hurry up and get ready," he said, his tone dismissive. "You don't have all day."

Milo nodded again, his heart pounding. Then he realized something and stood frozen in the middle of the room. He watched as Kiet methodically dried his hair, the muscles in his arms flexing with each movement. Kiet glanced at him, raising an eyebrow. "Why are you standing there like a statue? Go take a shower."

Milo hesitated, his cheeks flushing slightly. "I... I don’t have any clothes to wear," he mumbled, feeling the embarrassment creep up his neck.

Kiet’s lips curled into a smirk. "Clothes will be arranged. Just go take your shower."

Milo nodded quickly and rushed into the bathroom, closing the door behind him. The sound of the water running did little to calm his nerves. After what felt like an eternity, he turned off the water and stepped out, wrapping himself in a plush robe. He took a deep breath, steeling himself for whatever awaited him outside the bathroom. With trepidation, he opened the door and stepped back into the bedroom.

Kiet was still there, lounging on the bed with an air of casual dominance. He looked up as Milo entered, his eyes darkening with an unreadable emotion as he took in the sight of Milo in the robe, droplets of water still clinging to his skin.

Milo felt a shiver run down his spine under Kiet’s intense gaze. He hugged the robe tighter around himself, feeling vulnerable and exposed. Kiet’s eyes lingered on him, making Milo’s heart pound in his chest.

"You clean up nicely," Kiet said, his voice low and filled with a hint of something that made Milo’s breath hitch. He stood up and walked over to Milo, his presence magnetic and intimidating.

Milo took a step back, but Kiet closed the distance between them effortlessly.  Before Milo could react, Kiet was in front of him, pulling him close by the waist. Milo gasped, his hands instinctively going to Kiet's chest to steady himself.

Kiet's expression softened slightly, a rare warmth flickering in his gaze. "Just a week," Kiet whispered, his breath warm against Milo's ear, "and you will officially be mine."

Kiet's lips descended on Milo's with a fierce tenderness, capturing them in a searing kiss. Milo's mind spun, overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment. He felt Kiet's hands roam over his body, one slipping around his waist to pull him closer, the other gently caressing his face.

As Kiet deepened the kiss, his lips trailed from Milo's mouth to his jawline, leaving a blazing path of heat in their wake. Milo's breath came in short gasps, his heart pounding in his chest as Kiet's kisses moved to his neck. The sensation was electrifying, a mix of fear and an unexpected, undeniable attraction.

Milo's hands tightened their grip on Kiet's chest, his body trembling with a mix of emotions. Kiet's lips returned to his neck, kissing and nibbling as his hands slowly untied the robe. The fabric slipped from Milo's shoulders, pooling at his feet and leaving him bare before Kiet.

Kiet stepped back momentarily, his eyes devouring Milo's exposed form. "You're perfect," he breathed, his voice filled with a raw, possessive hunger. He moved forward again, this time more slowly and deliberately, his lips finding Milo's once more.

The kiss was gentler this time, but no less intense. Kiet's hands explored Milo's body, tracing every contour and every curve as if committing it to memory. Milo felt a surge of heat, a desperate longing that both thrilled and terrified him.

As Kiet's lips moved lower, kissing along Milo's collarbone and down to his chest, Milo's knees weakened, and he clung to Kiet for support. The world around them seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of them in a haze of desire and raw emotion.

Just as Kiet's hand moved forward, a knock on the door interrupted the moment. Kiet pulled back slightly, a growl of frustration escaping his lips. Milo stood there, breathless and trembling, his heart pounding in his chest.

Kiet turned towards the door, his grip on Milo's waist still firm. "What is it?" he barked, his voice laced with irritation.

Arhit's voice came through the door. "Boss, the clothes for Milo are here."

Kiet sighed, releasing Milo, but not before pressing a lingering kiss to his lips. "Get dressed," he said, his voice softer but still commanding. "I'll be waiting."

Milo nodded, his mind still reeling from the intensity of the encounter.

                                                                                              ***

Dining Room,

The grand dining room of the Rattanakorn mansion was filled with a quiet tension. Kiet sat at the head of the long table, reading the morning newspaper. Around him, the staff stood silently, their eyes occasionally flicking towards the staircase in curiosity.

As Milo descended the stairs, every gaze turned towards him, the air thick with anticipation. He felt a knot of anxiety tighten in his chest but forced himself to keep moving forward. Kiet noticed him immediately, folding the newspaper and standing up with a commanding presence.

"Everyone, this is Milo,” Kiet announced, his voice authoritative. “He is my future wife, and you will treat him with the same respect and care that you afford me.”

The staff nodded in unison, their faces a mixture of surprise and acceptance. Kiet gestured for Milo to join him at the table. “Come, have your breakfast.”

"Arhit, after breakfast, I want you to drop Milo off at college," Kiet instructed.

Arhit nodded, but before Kiet could turn to leave, Milo spoke up. "I need to go to my house first."

Kiet's expression immediately darkened, irritation flashing in his eyes. "Why?" he asked, his tone sharp.

Milo swallowed, feeling a knot of fear in his stomach but determined to explain. "My project is at home."

Kiet's jaw tightened, and for a moment, Milo feared he would refuse. But then Kiet exhaled slowly, his irritation evident but tempered. "Fine," he said through gritted teeth. "Arhit, take him to his house first."

Arhit nodded again. Kiet turned to Milo, his eyes cold, but resigned. "Don't make me regret this," he warned, before turning on his heel and striding out of the dining room.

Milo watched him go, feeling a mix of relief and trepidation. Arhit approached the table, a respectful distance away. "We'll leave as soon as you're ready, Milo."

                                                                                           ***

Channarat House,

The dining table at Milo's house was eerily quiet. Plates were filled with food, but no one seemed to have the appetite to eat. The air was thick with tension and worry. Milo's father sat at the head of the table, his eyes fixed on his untouched meal. Milo's mother, eyes puffy and red from crying, kept glancing towards the door, hoping against hope for a miracle. Nuea sat silently, pushing his food around his plate, his mind far from the breakfast in front of him.

Finally, Nuea stood up, his face set with determination. "I'm leaving for school," he announced, grabbing his bag.

As he made his way to exit the house, the sound of a car screeching to a halt outside caught his attention. Milo was stepping out of the car, looking around as if in a dream. His brother froze for a moment, disbelief etched on his face.

Nuea stood a few steps away, his bag slipping from his shoulder as he watched his brother. "Milo," he called softly, his voice cracking.

Milo looked up and opened his arms. "Nuea, come here."

Nuea didn't need to be told twice. He rushed forward, hugging him tightly. "I'm so glad you're okay, bro. I was so scared."

Milo held him tightly, feeling a mix of overwhelming relief and determination. Inside the house, Milo's parents heard Nuea's cry. Curiosity piqued, and they rushed outside. The sight that met them made their hearts leap.

"Milo!" his mother cried out, breaking the spell. She ran towards him, her voice choked with emotion. "Milo, my son!"

His father and Nuea joined the embrace, all of them holding onto Milo as if he might disappear again at any moment. The emotional reunion was a stark contrast to the chaos of the previous day.

Arhit, standing by the car, cleared his throat. "I hate to interrupt, but Milo needs to leave for college soon."

Milo's father looked at Arhit, his expression determined. "No. Not this time. We're not letting Milo go away again."

Milo looked around at the gathered neighbors and onlookers, feeling overwhelmed by their attention. "Let's go inside," he suggested softly, guiding his family back into the house.

They all moved into the house, the atmosphere still heavy with emotion but now filled with a glimmer of hope. Once inside, Milo's parents and brother surrounded him, their faces etched with worry and love.

"We'll fight for you, Milo," his father said fiercely. "We won't let them take you away again."

Milo shook his head gently. "It was my decision, Dad. I don't regret sacrificing myself for our family. I did what I had to do."

His mother sobbed, holding him close. "But you shouldn't have to, Milo," she murmured, her voice breaking. "I never wanted this Milo. I never wanted this; I lost my senses, and when I realised what I had done, you were gone."

Milo held his mother's hand and said, "It's okay, mom. It's not your fault. The only one we could blame was the situation. so please stop feeling guilty."

His mother's eyes filled with fresh tears. "But..."

Milo hugged his mother tightly again, feeling the warmth of her love. "It's okay, mom. I am fine."

Arhit, who had been silently watching the emotional reunion, glanced at his watch. "I really need to get Milo to college," he interjected gently.

Milo smiled at his parents, wiping away tears from his own eyes. "I have to go," he said softly. "But I'll be okay."

Later, Milo stood in the doorway of his childhood home, his heart heavy with conflicting emotions. His parents stood before him, their faces etched with worry and sorrow. It was a moment neither of them had ever imagined they would face.

"I... I have to go," Milo finally said, his voice wavering slightly as he fought to keep his composure.

His mother stepped forward, tears streaming down her cheeks. She reached out to him, wrapping him in one last tight embrace. "Promise me you'll take care of yourself," she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion.

Milo hugged her back just as tightly, feeling the weight of her words. "I promise, Mom," he replied softly, his own tears threatening to fall.

His father stood a few steps away, his usual stoic demeanor cracked with emotion. "Son," he began, his voice thick with regret, "we should have done more to keep you safe."

Milo looked at his father, feeling a lump form in his throat. "Dad, you've always done your best for us. I know that."

Nuea stood nearby, his eyes red-rimmed but filled with silent support. He placed a hand on Milo's arm, squeezing gently. "Take care, big brother," he said quietly, his voice cracking with emotion.

Milo nodded and gave his family his last hug. As Milo pulled away from his family, he felt a pang of sadness and longing. These were the people who had raised him and supported him through thick and thin, and now he was leaving them behind to face an uncertain future.

Arhit opened the door for Milo, and each step felt heavier than the last as he made his way towards the waiting car. He glanced back one more time, catching a glimpse of his family standing together in the doorway, their love and concern written plainly on their faces. As the car pulled away, Milo fought to keep his emotions in check.

The car ride was silent, the hum of the engine the only sound as they drove away from the place he called home. Milo stared out the window, his mind racing with doubts and fears. Could he really survive with Kiet? Could he keep his family safe? Could he truly welcome the new life he had chosen?

Each question felt like a weight pressing down on him, making it hard to breathe. He had seen Kiet's cruelty and power, and now he was bound to him, a prisoner in a gilded cage. The thought of spending his life with a man who could so easily instill fear and wield control sent a shiver down his spine.

Milo's thoughts turned to his family, their worried faces flashing in his mind. He had made this choice for them—to protect them from the violence and danger that Kiet represented. But could he bear the cost? The loss of his freedom, his dreams, his happiness?