The sun in Phuket seemed gentler that day.
After weeks of blood, tension, and lying to the people who raised them, Jay and Jack allowed themselves a rare thing: a day without disguises.
No bulletproof vests under crisp shirts.
No stashed weapons taped under café tables.
No encrypted texts or burner phones vibrating in their pockets.
Just them.
For a few hours, Jay and Jack weren't the heirs of empires built on blood. They weren't enemies, or spies, or boys drowning in orders too heavy for their hearts. They were two young men sitting at a quiet café near the canal, sharing a bowl of pineapple rice, the taste sweet and sticky on their tongues. They sat close, their knees brushing every now and then—subtle, electric.
Jay smiled more today. Jack reached for his hand without hesitation. The gesture was small, but in their world, small things could cost lives.
"Feels like we're in a dream," Jack whispered, eyes soft, the corners of his mouth curved with wonder.
Jay squeezed his hand gently, his thumb brushing across Jack's knuckles. "If we are," he said, voice low and steady, "I don't want to wake up."
The breeze carried the scent of the sea, salty and clean, as they wandered through the narrow market stalls later. They bought each other cheap bracelets—thin black strings looped through tiny silver wolf charms. Innocent trinkets. The kind of thing schoolboys might exchange, not mafia heirs.
Something quiet. Something theirs.
They didn't talk about their fathers.
Or the next shipment.
Or the rising death toll in Chiang Mai.
Just… us.
Just now.
It was the first time either of them had tasted the kind of life that didn't come with a price tag carved in skin. And they knew, deep down, it wouldn't last. But that didn't stop them from wanting it anyway.
Back at the hotel, the room Jeff and Rin shared was a mess of papers, open laptops, and half-eaten takeout. The AC barely worked. The fan creaked overhead like it had a bone to pick with gravity. Outside, mopeds zipped past beneath the balcony, but inside, it was dead silent—except for the occasional click of a mouse.
Rin leaned over the desk, shirt clinging to his back from the heat. Jeff, seated on the bed, tried not to stare. His eyes trailed the line of sweat down Rin's neck, the tense way his shoulder blades moved beneath fabric.
"You ever think about disappearing?" Rin asked suddenly, his voice soft but steady.
Jeff looked up, startled. "Disappearing where?"
Rin shrugged, keeping his eyes on the photos. "Anywhere. Just… leaving all this behind. No bosses. No guns. No more pretending we're okay with the things we've done."
Jeff didn't answer right away. He stared at Rin for a long moment, then stood and crossed the room slowly.
"You'd take me with you?" he asked.
Rin turned, a smirk teasing his lips. "Would you come?"
A pause.
"I already have," Jeff said, his voice barely above a whisper.
The air thickened between them.
Rin stepped forward until they were chest to chest. "Then stop looking at me like you're afraid."
"I'm not afraid of you," Jeff said, his voice trembling. "I'm afraid of losing you."
Their kiss was slow—less a collision and more a confession. Quiet and reverent, like a prayer spoken into the dark. It wasn't the first time. And deep down, they both knew, it wouldn't be the last.
Not if they could help it.
That night, long after dinner, long after the streets quieted and the lights of the city bled soft into the sea, Jay and Jack slipped away again.
No destination. No plan.
Just the comfort of moving side-by-side in a world that wanted to tear them apart.
They walked hand-in-hand through back streets, the smell of smoke and fried food hanging in the air. But something felt… off. A tension that coiled in Jay's chest like wire tightening.
As they rounded the back of a nightclub, Jay slowed. His eyes locked on a man in a gray jacket passing a small envelope to another—tall, wiry, dressed in black. The transaction was subtle. Practiced.
Jack noticed it too.
No words were exchanged. They didn't need any.
They followed.
Down twisting alleys. Up a narrow fire escape. Across the rooftop of a karaoke bar. The men never looked back.
Finally, the trail ended at an abandoned pier on the far edge of the city.
Rows of sleek black cars lined the lot. Armed guards stood like statues. The sea lapped quietly at the concrete below, as if nature itself was holding its breath.
And in the center of it all, sitting lazily on the hood of a Lexus like a bored prince, was a boy.
He couldn't have been more than twenty-two. Maybe younger.
Silky black hair framed his face, falling over diamond-studded earrings. A cigarette hung from pouty lips, ash barely clinging to the tip.
But his eyes—
Empty. Cold. Ancient.
He didn't look at people. He looked through them.
He was beautiful in that haunting, unsettling way , like a cathedral draped in blood. The kind of beauty that didn't seduce. It warned.
A guard turned and called, "Juhu."
Jay stopped breathing.
Jack whispered, "You think that's Ghost?"
Juhu stretched slowly, cracking his neck. Then he stood, smooth and careless.
"Tell them we move into Chiang Mai in three weeks," he said in perfect Thai, his voice sweet and cruel. "If we don't have it by then… burn it all."
Then, smiling faintly, he added, "Time to crown a real king."
Jay felt the blood drain from his face.
They had found him.
Ghost wasn't hiding.
He was waiting.
A boy in a crown made of ambition and corpses. A monster with youth on his side. A child born into chaos and determined to rule it.
Jay and Jack backed away, silent. Careful.
They didn't speak on the walk back. Their fingers stayed locked, knuckles white from the grip.
When they returned to the hotel, they didn't tell Jeff and Rin. Not yet. Not until they had proof. Until they were sure.
But war had found them.
And he had a name.
Later that night, the rain came.
It began soft, just a whisper against the rooftop glass. Then heavier. Steady. A blanket of sound that made the world feel distant.
The rooftop lounge was mostly empty. Just a few tourists too drunk to leave and a Bluetooth speaker playing soft jazz in the corner.
Jay leaned into Jack's shoulder, his drink untouched on the table. The wolf bracelet gleamed faintly under the light.
Jeff sat beside Rin, their bodies just barely touching, watching droplets race each other down the windows.
No one spoke.
There was nothing left to say.
They had tasted peace.
They had found each other in the cracks of a broken world.
But war was coming.
It wore designer rings and diamond earrings.
It smiled like a god and burned like a pyre.
It had a name:
Juhu.
The boy who didn't care who he had to destroy.
The boy who wanted a kingdom.
And he was coming for theirs.