Nunew accidentally crashes CEO Zee Pruk Panich's car when working as a valet. He expects Zee to make him pay back the cost of damages but the young businessman has another arrangement in mind.
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My father had always been afraid of failure.
He'd spent his life working from the ground up, starting in a home rife with poverty, determined to find success beyond the confines of his meager upbringing. He'd dedicated his life to achieving dreams few people ever reached, finding power in his accomplishments. He became obsessed with it. Dependent on it. The power. The control. They were things he'd never had—things he had always craved.
He had crafted the perfect life. Everything was within the palm of his hand. Wealth, success, a family. Maybe he thought he'd finally outrun the memories of his past—the memories of a life as a lonely young boy, desperate for attention, crying out for some kind of control in a world that was filled with uncertainties.
He'd been convinced that control meant perfection—a life that others envied. That put him at the top.
But we never really outrun the past, do we? I'd been made aware of that reality time and time again.
Now it was his turn.
—————
"The charities your father runs..." My mother's voice paused, her eyes cast to the ground as her fingers knotted together. "They're a front."
Tense silence filled the room. Finally, I responded, "A front?"
"They're charities are in name only. The donations they receive—all the money that comes in—it's used for...other things."
My lips pressed together tightly. "Things like what?"
My mother hesitated. "Insurance."
"Explain."
Her hands wrung tighter, the skin turning splotchy as she twisted and pulled at her knuckles. She was scared, that much was obvious. I slid my hands in my pockets, letting my fingers curl into fists within the fabric, trying to remain patient as she let out a shallow breath.
"They're his contingency plan. A way to make sure everything goes the way he intends."
She glanced at my face suddenly, her dark eyes wandering my features before rising to stare at my forehead. The stitches that marred my skin began to burn.
My voice was spoken through clenched teeth as I asked, "So the funds are used for what? Paying people off?"
"Sometimes."
"And the other times?"
Again, she hesitated, uncertainty flickering within her gaze as her eyes left my wound. She met my stare and I paused, frozen by the sudden hardness that had seeped into her dark hues.
"Sometimes money isn't enough to make people stay quiet."
