Pak Nam Pran Village,

Nuea sat outside the house, his eyes staring blankly at the horizon. The weight of their decision pressed heavily on his shoulders, and he couldn't shake off the gnawing worry.

Waan, who had just passed him, noticed Nuea's troubled expression and turned back, concern etched on his face. "Why are you out here?" Waan asked, his voice gentle but probing.

Nuea glanced up, his eyes filled with a mix of fear and uncertainty. "Just trying to relax," he replied, but the tension in his voice was palpable.

Waan could see through the facade and sat down beside him. "You're worried about Milo, aren't you?" he asked, placing a reassuring hand on Nuea's shoulder.

Nuea sighed deeply, his gaze dropping to the ground. "Yes, I am. Did we do the right thing by bringing Brother here?" he asked.

"Of course we did," Waan said firmly. "How could we stand by and watch Milo marry someone like Kiet? We had to protect him."

Nuea's worry deepened. "But I'm scared, brother. Kiet must be in search of us by now. What if... what if he finds us?"

Waan tried to smile, hoping to reassure him. "Don't worry, everything will be fine. Kiet will never guess we're hiding here. He wouldn't think to look in Som's village."

Nuea shook his head, still unconvinced. "But brother, the person who's after us isn't some kind of street goon. Kiet... Kiet is a mafia boss, a merciless person who doesn't hesitate to kill anyone."

Waan's confidence wavered, the reality of Nuea's words sinking in. The thought of Kiet, ruthless and determined, brought a chill to his spine. Nuea’s voice trembled as he spoke, his fears now laid bare.

"I don't know why," Nuea continued, "but I think we indirectly made my brother's life much tougher than it was."

Waan's face grew pale, the gravity of Nuea’s words settling heavily on his shoulders. He had been so focused on protecting Milo that he had pushed aside the full implications of their actions. The idea that they might have exacerbated Milo’s danger gnawed at him. He sat in silence, the weight of their decision crashing down on him. 

Later, Milo stirred from a deep, uneasy sleep, his head pounding with pain. The memory of his father hitting him with the vase flashed through his mind, and he winced as he tried to sit up. His surroundings were unfamiliar—a simple village house far from the chaos of Bangkok. He saw his mother, his father, and his younger brother, Nuea, nearby, their faces etched with worry.

“Where are we?” Milo asked, his voice weak and raspy.

He then noticed Som and Waan standing nearby. “Why are you guys here? And where is this place?”

Som stepped forward, his expression grave. “This is my house, Milo. My village house.”

Milo’s brow furrowed in confusion. “Your village house? Why are we...” His voice trailed off as the memories of the previous night flooded back—his marriage to Kiet, Thanaya, the fire in the bridal chamber, and Thanaya trapped inside the flames.

Milo’s eyes widened with confusion and then narrowed with the sudden, horrifying memory. “Thanaya,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “Is she... did she...?” He couldn’t finish the sentence; his fear was too overwhelming. He got up, his head still aching with pain, and said, "I need to go."

He stumbled forward, his legs shaky but determined. His father stepped in front of him, his face etched with resolve. “You cannot go anywhere, Milo.”

Milo's eyes blazed with anger. “Get out of my way, Father; I need to go," he demanded, his voice trembling with both pain and fury.

His father shook his head; his expression was pained but unyielding. “Milo, you’re not thinking clearly. You need to rest."

“Rest?” Milo's voice was incredulous, rising to a yell. “How could you expect me to rest after what you did, Father? How?” His voice cracked with frustration and pain, echoing through the small room.

He looked around, his eyes landing on his brother, Som, and Waan. “Don’t tell me you all were involved in this.” His voice broke—a mix of betrayal and disbelief. “Why...why? Why did you do all this?” he yelled, his frustration palpable.

Som stepped forward, his face filled with worry. “Milo, we did it for you. We couldn’t just stand by and let you marry that man.”

Waan nodded, his eyes downcast. “That's right, Milo. It was the only way to stop the wedding and protect you.”

Milo’s eyes blazed with anger. “Protect me? By putting an innocent child’s life in danger? How is that protection, Waan? HOW?”

His father’s face crumpled. “I didn’t know... I didn’t know she would be there. Our goal was only to stop the marriage and get you out of there. I didn't know it would lead to that."

Tears streamed down his mother’s face as she reached out to Milo. “That's right, son; please try to understand. We were desperate. I was desperate. we couldn’t let you marry that monster.”

Milo looked at his mother, pain and anger etched on his face. “You were desperate last time too, Mother. Did you forget?” His voice trembled with the weight of past wounds.

His mother went silent, the room thick with tension as she recalled the time when she had desperately sold off her son. The memories weighed heavily on her, and her tears flowed more freely. She lowered her gaze, unable to meet Milo’s eyes.

His father clenched his fists, his face tight with emotion as he moved forward to Milo. “Trust me, son. We just wanted to stop the marriage."

Milo scoffed and looked at him, bitterness in his eyes. “You did all this to stop the marriage? But, Father, let me inform you, your plan failed.”

Everyone looked at Milo with confusion. Waan asked, “What do you mean, Milo?”

Milo took a deep breath, the weight of the revelation pressing down on him. “I already got married to Kiet.”

Nuea stepped forward, his voice trembling. “But how, brother? The wedding... it never happened.”

Milo's eyes darkened as memories flooded back.

                                                                                     ***

Flashback,

Rattanakorn Mansion,

Milo stepped down the stairs, his heart pounding with nerves and fear. The air felt heavy, and every step seemed to echo his trepidation. He reached the bottom, where Kiet waited, his imposing presence filling the room.

Kiet scanned him from head to toe, his eyes piercing and unreadable. “Are you ready?” he asked, his voice calm but firm.

Milo nodded, though his insides churned with anxiety.

“Good,” Kiet said, a faint smirk playing on his lips. “But before we leave, there is one thing you have to do.”

Milo looked at him with confusion, his brow furrowing. “What?”

Kiet walked over to a nearby table and took out a document, holding it out to Milo. “Sign this.”

Milo took the document with trembling hands, his eyes widening as he read the title: Marriage Agreement.

“Here?” Milo asked, his voice barely a whisper. “Now?”

Kiet nodded. “Yes. This makes it official, even before we step into the wedding hall. I need to ensure you’re mine, legally and irrevocably.”

Milo’s hands shook as he took the pen Kiet offered. He glanced up at Kiet, whose eyes were fixed on him with an intensity that left no room for hesitation.

“Sign it,” Kiet commanded softly, his tone leaving no room for defiance.

Milo’s heart raced as he put pen to paper, each stroke feeling like a chain being wrapped around him. When he finished, he handed the document back to Kiet, who scanned it quickly before nodding in satisfaction.

“Good,” Kiet said, folding the document and tucking it away. “Now, let’s go.”

                                                                                         ***

End of Flashback,

Milo's voice wavered as he recounted the memory. “Kiet made me sign the marriage agreement before we even arrived at the wedding hall. It was official before the ceremony even began.”

Nuea's eyes widened in shock. “So, it was already done?”

Milo nodded, his expression grim. “Yes. That’s why I said your plan failed, Father. No matter what happened at the hall, Kiet and I were already married.”

Milo's father couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Everyone went silent, the weight of their failed plan hanging heavy in the air. They had done everything to stop the marriage, but their efforts had been in vain.

                                                                                               ***

Desserted Road,

Kiet stepped out of his car, the heat of the day, doing little to temper his icy demeanor. He strode towards Arhit, “Any updates?” Kiet asked, his voice sharp.

Arhit shook his head, his eyes cast downward. “I’m sorry, sir.”

Kiet’s face hardened as he took out a cigarette and lit it, inhaling deeply. The smoke curled around him as he exhaled slowly, his mind working furiously. He took another drag, pacing back and forth, his thoughts a whirlwind of frustration and calculation.

He smoked two drags of the cigarette, the tension in the air growing with each step he took. Suddenly, a memory surfaced—Som and Waan's faces on the day he had broken into their house. The realization struck him like a bolt of lightning.

Kiet smirked, a cold, knowing smile. “You’re smart, uncle, but also dumb," he muttered to himself. He turned sharply to face Arhit, his eyes gleaming with a new resolve. “Track Milo's friends’ phones.”

Arhit blinked in surprise, momentarily confused. Then understanding dawned on him. “Of course, sir. Right away.”

Kiet watched as Arhit immediately set to work, his own mind racing. The old man must have taken Milo somewhere they wouldn’t think to look—somewhere connected to those friends. Kiet’s smirk widened, a dangerous glint in his eyes.

After some time, Arhit rushed back, his face set in urgency. “We’ve found him, sir. They’re at Pak Nam Pran village. It’s not too far from here.”

Kiet’s eyes narrowed, and he threw his cigarette to the ground, crushing it beneath his heel with a fierce twist. “Let’s get going,” he growled, his voice low and deadly.

Arhit opened the door of Kiet’s car, but Kiet paused before stepping in. He turned to Arhit with a stern look. “Go back to Bangkok."

Arhit looked confused and insisted, “But sir, I should go with you.”

Kiet’s expression hardened. “The Blue Diamond auction is tomorrow. I need that diamond, and I can’t afford to miss it. I want you to take care of it. I’ll bring my wife back by myself.”

Arhit hesitated, but the gravity of Kiet’s words left no room for argument. He nodded, understanding the importance of the task. “Yes, sir. I’ll handle it.”

Kiet climbed into the car, his expression fierce and unyielding. His guards followed, their presence a silent promise of the storm that was about to descend upon Pak Nam Pran village. The engines roared to life, and Kiet’s car sped away, leaving a trail of dust behind as it headed toward the village.

As the car disappeared into the distance, the setting sun cast long shadows over the road, mirroring the dark intentions that followed in Kiet’s wake.  The chase had begun, and Kiet was relentless.