You're Mine, I'm Yours II

Part 1

The sun beamed through the large window, casting a warm glow across Khaotung's face. He groaned softly as he slowly opened his eyes, the light piercing through his puffy lids. He sat up, rubbing his hand over his shoulder and cracking his neck in an attempt to shake off the remnants of sleep. His hair was disheveled, and his eyes still carried the weight of tiredness.

Khaotung took a moment to gather himself, staring blankly at the ceiling. His thoughts wandered to the events of the past few months, and a wave of exhaustion washed over him. It was more than just physical fatigue; it was the emotional toll that weighed heavily on his spirit. The memory of First's betrayal was like a knife wound that refused to heal, and every day he felt it anew.

A knock on the door interrupted his moment of peace. "Come in," Khaotung called out with a sleepy voice, a part of him yearning to crawl back into the comfort of his bed. The door opened, revealing a man in a sharp black suit.

"Young master, you're late for the meeting," the man said, his voice clipped and professional.

Khaotung blinked, confusion washing over his features. "What meeting?" he asked, trying to recall his schedule. Then it hit him-his father had arranged for him to attend a meeting today.

"Shit," Khaotung muttered, springing out of bed and rushing to the bathroom. He turned on the water tap, taking a quick shower. As the cold water hit his face, it shocked him into full wakefulness. He quickly scrubbed himself clean, trying to wash away the lingering lethargy. When he emerged, the man had already laid out his clothes on the bed. Khaotung dressed quickly, tugging on his shirt and straightening his tie before rushing out of his room.

In the hallway, he was greeted by his cousin, New, who wore a playful grin. "It's about time you woke up," New teased, leaning casually against the wall.

"I'm here, aren't I?" Khaotung shot back, a smirk playing on his lips.

"You sure know how to make an entrance," New laughed, clapping Khaotung on the back with a hearty slap. The camaraderie was a small comfort amidst the chaos of his morning.

As they walked towards the meeting room, they continued to banter. "So, who are we meeting today?" Khaotung asked, trying to focus on the task at hand.

"Some bigwigs interested in a new business venture. Your father thinks it's a good opportunity to expand our reach," New explained, his tone becoming more serious.

Khaotung sighed, the weight of his responsibilities settling on his shoulders. "Great, another day of schmoozing and pretending to be interested in boring business deals," he muttered, running a hand through his still-damp hair.

New chuckled. "That's the spirit. Just try not to fall asleep this time," he teased, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

"Very funny," Khaotung retorted, rolling his eyes. "Speaking of business, have we made any progress in locating David?" His voice dropped to a whisper, his earlier light-heartedness vanishing.

New's expression darkened, the playful mood dissipating. "We've been trying, but he's a ghost. Every lead we get turns into a dead end," he admitted, frustration evident in his voice.

The mention of David made Khaotung's blood boil. Ugly memories of betrayal and pain surged to the forefront of his mind. He clenched his fists, his knuckles turning white. "How is it possible that we can't find one man?" Khaotung's voice trembled with barely restrained anger, his eyes narrowing.

New placed a calming hand on his shoulder. "We're doing everything we can, Khao. He's just... slippery," he said softly, trying to ease Khaotung's tension.

Khaotung's body was rigid, his jaw clenched tight. He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. "I don't care how slippery he is. We need to find him. I need to find him. He can't get away with what he did," he said, his voice a low growl.