You're Mine, I'm Yours II

Part 20

The grand study of the Thanawat mansion was shrouded in darkness, the only light coming from a single, ornate chandelier that cast an ominous glow over the room. The air was thick with cigar smoke and tension, the silence broken only by the faint crackle of burning wood in the fireplace. Thanawat stood behind his colossal desk, a towering figure whose presence alone commanded respect and fear. His face was set in a mask of cold fury, his hands gripping the edge of the desk so tightly his knuckles turned white.

The news had come like a dagger to the chest. Another shipment-one of his largest and most lucrative-had been destroyed. First, the warehouses, and now this. The escalating attacks weren't just losses; they were calculated provocations. A direct challenge to his power.

"Who did it?" Thanawat's voice boomed through the room, cold and sharp as steel. He slammed his fist on the desk, the sound reverberating off the high ceilings. The force caused a stack of papers to flutter to the floor.

Both New and Jim, his most trusted enforcers, stood before him, their postures rigid, their faces taut with unease. They had seen Thanawat angry before, but this was different. This wasn't just anger; it was the simmering rage of a man who had ruled with an iron fist for decades and was now being tested.

New hesitated, his throat dry as he exchanged a quick glance with Jim. He finally cleared his throat, his voice steady despite the fear gnawing at him. "We've identified the group responsible, sir. It's the Shadow Serpents."

Thanawat's eyes narrowed, his gaze so sharp it felt like it could cut through stone. "The Shadow Serpents," he repeated, his tone dripping with disdain. "Those bottom-feeding scum wouldn't dare touch my shipments without someone pulling their strings."

New nodded cautiously. "Precisely, sir. They've never been bold enough to challenge us before. This isn't their move-it's someone else's game."

Thanawat began pacing the room, his hands clasped behind his back. Each step echoed like a drumbeat of impending doom. His mind raced, piecing together the puzzle, his thoughts as calculated as they were dangerous. "And who," he said slowly, his voice laced with venom, "would be foolish enough to back them?"

Jim stepped forward, his voice steady but low, as if reluctant to utter the name. "Who else, sir? It has to be the Kanaphan empire."

Thanawat froze mid-step, his head tilting slightly as the name registered. His lips curled into a sneer, his dark eyes narrowing into slits. "Kanaphan," he muttered, the name tasting like bile. His voice was filled with contempt and fury, a reminder of a hatred that had been passed down for generations.

For decades, the Thanawat and Kanaphan families had been locked in an unrelenting war-a bitter rivalry forged in blood and betrayal. Their feud stretched back over fifty years, when both generations first clashed over territory and power. What began as a battle for dominance in a single city had spiraled into a generational conflict that consumed entire empires.

Each generation had added its own chapter to the saga of hatred. Deals were sabotaged, allies turned into enemies, and blood was spilled on both sides. The streets whispered tales of their vendetta, of how they had inherited not just empires, but a legacy of enmity so deeply ingrained it was impossible to untangle.

Thanawat's jaw tightened as memories of past clashes flooded his mind. He thought of his father, the old patriarch, who had spent his life battling Kanaphan's forces, and of the countless sacrifices made to keep their empire intact. This wasn't just business; this was personal.

"Kanaphan thinks he can challenge me," Thanawat said, his voice low and menacing, "but he's forgotten who he's dealing with. I am not my father, and I will not tolerate this disrespect."