Nuea, with a worried expression, stepped forward. “But, Father, Kiet is still looking for us. We are in danger, and this time, I don’t think he will spare us.”

Milo, having absorbed the weight of the conversation, stood up resolutely. “I have to go back.”

His father’s eyes widened in panic. “What! But why?”

Milo's face hardened with determination. “Because I know what Kiet will do if he finds us. I have to go back or else... or else we don't know what might happen."

His father’s expression shifted from shock to desperation. “No, Milo. You can’t go back there. It’s too dangerous. We will find another way.”

Milo shook his head. “There is no other way, Father. If Kiet finds us, he’ll make sure everyone here suffers.”

His father’s face twisted with anguish as he reached out, grabbing Milo’s arm. “Please, Milo. Think about what you’re saying. We’ve been through so much already. Don’t throw yourself back into hell.”

Milo's mother, tears streaming down her face, joined in the pleading. “You're father is right, Milo. We can find another solution. There has to be a way to keep you safe without risking everything. please, I beg you. don't go, please."

Seeing their desperation, Milo’s resolve wavered. His eyes softened, and he glanced around the room at the faces of his loved ones. The weight of their fear and concern pressed heavily on him. But despite this, Milo still insisted, “I have to go, mom. I am sorry.”

Milo’s father, whose face contorted with a mix of fear and anger, suddenly erupted. “You’re not going anywhere, Milo! I won’t let you!” He lunged forward, grabbing Milo by the shoulders and pushing him back with such force that Milo stumbled, losing his balance and crashing to the floor.

“Milo!” his mother cried out, but his father was relentless. He quickly stepped out of the room and turned back to face Milo, who was still sprawled on the floor, a mix of shock and frustration on his face.

“Everyone, out. Now,” Milo’s father commanded. His voice left no room for argument. Som, Waan, and Nuea hesitated, their faces etched with concern and fear, but the urgency in his eyes made them comply. They shuffled out of the room, casting anxious glances at Milo.

As the last of them stepped through the doorway, Milo’s father quickly shut the door and locked it from the outside. The heavy click of the lock echoed in the tense silence, sealing Milo inside.

Milo scrambled to his feet, rushing to the door and pounding on it with his fists. “Dad, please! Let me out! You’re only making things worse! please, let me out.” His voice was filled with desperation and anger.

Through the door, his father’s voice came, firm and resolute. “This is for your own good, Milo. You’re not going anywhere. Not while I’m still breathing.”

Milo’s mother sobbed outside the door, her cries mingling with the tension that filled the house. Nuea, Som, and Waan stood nearby, their faces pale and stricken with fear.

Milo sank to the floor, his back against the door, feeling a mixture of frustration, anger, and helplessness. Tears of anger and despair streamed down his face as the reality of his predicament settled in. He knew his father was acting out of love and protection, but the situation was spiraling out of control. The minutes ticked by, and the weight of the decision was pressing heavily on Milo.

Waan shifted nervously, his eyes darting between the locked door and Milo's father. “Is this really okay?” he asked, his voice trembling with uncertainty. “Locking Milo inside the room... it doesn’t feel right.”

Milo's father, his expression stern and resolute, turned to face Waan. “It’s the only way to keep him safe,” he said firmly. “Kiet is relentless. If Milo goes back to him, we’ll never see him again.”

“But…” Waan began, glancing at Milo’s mother, who was still sobbing softly. “What if this only makes things worse?"

Nuea stepped forward, his face pale and anxious. “Dad, Waan has a point. We can’t just lock him up and hope for the best."

Milo’s father sighed, rubbing his temples as the weight of the situation pressed down on him. “I know,” he admitted quietly. “But right now, this is all I can think of. I’m desperate, and I don’t want to lose my son, again.”

Som placed a reassuring hand on Milo’s mother’s shoulder. “We understand, Uncle,” he said gently.

The Next Day, Early Morning,

The early morning light crept through the thin curtains, casting a pale, uneasy glow over the house. No one had slept a wink. The tension was thick, and the silence was heavy with worry and fear. Milo, locked in his room, paced back and forth, his mind racing with thoughts of Kiet and his family. His face was etched with worry, stress, and fear.

In the living room, Milo's father sat slumped in a chair, his head in his hands. He sighed heavily, the weight of his decisions pressing down on him. He glanced at the clock, then at the door to Milo's room, his heart aching with the knowledge of his son's distress.

Som, who had been outside, noticed something from a distance. His eyes widened in alarm as he recognized the black cars approaching. Panic surged through him, and he rushed back into the house.

"We have to run," Som said urgently, his voice trembling with fear. "Kiet... Kiet is here."

Everyone's eyes widened in panic. Milo's mother clutched Nuea tightly, her face pale with fear. Milo's father stood up, his expression hardening with resolve.

Nuea panicked, his voice shaking. “What...what are we going to do now?”

Som immediately looked at Milo's father and suggested, “Run. There’s a back door. Run with Milo; we’ll manage.”

Milo’s father looked torn, his eyes darting between Som and the rest of the family. “But—”

“Go!” Som insisted, pushing him towards Milo’s room.

Without another word, Milo’s father rushed to Milo’s room, flinging the door open. “Milo, we have to go. Now!”

Milo, still groggy from lack of sleep, stumbled to his feet. “What’s happening?”

“No time to explain,” his father said, pulling him towards the back door.

"Dad, please tell me what's happening." He asked again as he was rushed to the back door by his father.

Milo's father opened the back door but was met with an unexpected chilling sight. Kiet stood there. His expression was a mix of dark amusement and cold determination, a sinister smile curling at the corners of his lips. 

"Ki...Kiet!" Milo's father mumbled as Kiet's eyes locked onto Milo's father, his gaze cutting through the tension like a knife.

Kiet tilted his head slightly, his gaze shifting to Milo, who had been standing beside his father. "Hello, darling," Kiet said, his voice smooth and dripping with menace. “Did you enjoy your little game of hide-and-seek?”

"Kiet," Milo mumbled with fear as he saw him.

Before others could react, the front door exploded open with a thunderous crash. Kiet’s guards surged into the room, their heavy boots pounding the floor in a synchronized march. The oppressive tension in the air became almost palpable.

Kiet’s gaze flickered to Milo, who was frozen in fear. With a swift, decisive movement, Kiet grabbed Milo’s hand, his grip unyielding. “Come here,” he commanded, pulling Milo toward him with a harsh yank.

Milo stumbled forward, the fear in his eyes mingling with the crushing grip of Kiet’s hand. Kiet glanced over his shoulder, his voice cold and authoritative. “Drag everyone out,” he ordered his guards.

Hearing this, Milo panicked. His heart pounded in his chest, each beat a frantic plea for mercy. "Kiet... Please don't do anything. Please..." he begged, his voice trembling with desperation.

The guards quickly obeyed, their hands rough and relentless as they pulled Milo’s family out of the house. Their protests echoed down the hallway, mingling with the harsh sounds of their shuffling feet.

Once they were out, Kiet’s expression darkened. He pulled out his gun with a smooth, practiced motion, the metallic glint of the barrel catching the light. As he looked at Milo’s father, he recalled Thanaya trapped in the fire. he walked towards him, his face twisted in cold fury.

“Did you think you could escape, Uncle?” Kiet’s voice was a dangerous whisper, filled with icy venom. “Don’t you know who I am?”

Milo’s father, eyes wide with a mix of fear and defiance, shouted back, “I know who you are, Kiet. That’s why... that’s why I did everything to stop this marriage. I had to protect my son! I had to stop the marriage!”

Kiet scoffed, the sound slicing through the charged silence like a blade. His gaze was a chilling storm of disdain and anger. “And yet you failed,” he said, his voice dripping with contempt. “We’re married now, despite your pathetic attempts to stop it. I knew you might do something desperate, but I never imagined you would be so reckless as to put my daughter in danger.”

He took a menacing step closer, his eyes cold and unfeeling, and the gun pressed firmly against Milo’s father’s forehead. “You see,” Kiet continued, his voice a dangerous whisper, “I endured the agony of watching my daughter nearly die because of your actions."

Kiet’s face twisted into a cruel smirk, his rage boiling just beneath the surface. “And now,” he said, his tone filled with lethal intent, “you’ll face the consequences of your actions. You’ll pay dearly for what you’ve done.”

The air felt like it was closing in; every sound magnified, and every breath was heavy with dread. Kiet’s eyes locked onto Milo’s father with a cold, unforgiving gaze, the finality of his words hanging like a death sentence in the air. Everyone's expression turned to fear.

“No!” Milo screamed, his voice breaking with raw desperation. He ran to him and dropped to his knees before Kiet, his hands clasped in a desperate, trembling plea. “Please, Kiet,” he begged, his voice barely above a whisper, choked with emotion. “Spare them. They are my family. I’m begging you.”

Kiet’s gaze flickered to Milo, his expression a cold blend of hardened resolve and dark determination. “This time, Milo, there will be no mercy,” he said with chilling finality. “They must pay for what they’ve done.”

Milo’s body shook uncontrollably, tears streaming down his face and mixing with the dust around him. “No, please,” he pleaded, his voice cracking under the weight of his anguish. “Don’t do this. I know they were wrong, but everything they did was to protect me. They’re not guilty of this. Please, just spare them. They are my family, Kiet. please..."

Kiet stared at Milo, who was begging in front of him. His expression softened for a brief moment, the anger and resolve wavering just enough to show a flicker of something almost human.

But it was only for a second.

His father, filled with a mix of fury and fear, shouted back, "Milo, what are you saying?” His voice was a powerful roar, filled with both defiance and terror. he looked at Kiet with terror. “Kiet, he’s innocent. He didn’t even know what we were doing. He had no part in our plan. It was all me! If you want to punish someone, punish me instead. Not him. He doesn’t deserve this.”

Kiet’s smirk twisted into a cold, disdainful smile as he listened to Milo’s father’s desperate plea. The scene was charged with an intense, palpable tension. Kiet’s eyes gleamed with cruel satisfaction. He walked deliberately towards Milo’s father, his steps measured and menacing. 

“Seeing your own child suffer must be excruciating,” Kiet said, his voice dripping with scorn. “That’s exactly what I felt when you put my daughter in danger.”

Kiet leaned in closer to Milo, his voice a whisper that sent shivers down Milo’s spine. “Remember this, Milo. There will be no mercy and no more chances. Understood?”

Milo nodded quickly, his eyes wide with fear. Kiet’s grip tightened even more, his fingers digging painfully into Milo’s arm. “Speak,” Kiet demanded, his voice a harsh, menacing growl.

“Yes... yes, I understand,” Milo stammered, his voice shaking. The weight of Kiet’s words settled heavily on him.

Kiet’s eyes bore into Milo’s, a cold, merciless gaze that promised there would be no room for rebellion or disobedience. With a final, forceful yank, Kiet dragged Milo to his car. The guards, standing by with an air of grim efficiency, moved quickly to open the door for Kiet.

Milo’s parents tried to follow, their eyes wide with terror and helplessness. "Milo...Milo..." his mother cried.

With a final, harsh shove, Kiet forced Milo into the car. Milo stumbled, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he was unceremoniously thrust into the vehicle. The door slammed shut behind him with a finality that echoed in the silence that followed.

Kiet's gaze lingered for a moment on the scene outside, his expression cold and unyielding. The car’s engine roared to life, and with a sudden jolt, it pulled away from the scene, leaving Milo’s parents and their desperate cries far behind.