Discoveries (Faye Yoko)

Part 1

Hi, this is my first story, English is not my mother tongue, I hope the translator does his job well :D

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Chapter 1

In a privileged corner of Bangkok, where tradition embraces modernity, a majestic house stands among gardens adorned with wild orchids and structures with pointed roofs that seem to dance in the tropical breeze. The orchids, in a wide variety of vibrant colors, contrast with the lush green of the landscape, while delicate rock sculptures add an air of mystery and tradition to the scene. Home to Yoko Apasra, a 21-year-old with delicate features, ivory skin and a restless gaze, and her father, Chet, a 50-year-old politician whose influence was built on shady deals and dubious connections, this residence reflects a traditional Thai style fused with an almost ostentatious modern luxury. The hand-carved teakwood pavilions, flooded with light and shadow, are surrounded by a peaceful koi pond, where orange and white fish trace hypnotic patterns in the crystal-clear water. Inside, however, the air feels tense, as if the controlled, rigid atmosphere suffocates everything, crushing any trace of spontaneity and freedom. Yoko, trapped in that world, often feels as if the opulence of her home is more of a jail than a refuge, a prison adorned with gold bars.

That afternoon, as the Bangkok sun begins its descent, dyeing the sky shades of orange and purple, Yoko meets her friend Orm at a bustling local coffee shop, a modern haven with exposed brick walls and the lingering aroma of freshly ground coffee filling the air. Both barely over 21, they try to take a breather from their respective obligations between sips of iced coffee with coconut milk: Yoko, caught between her distance learning studies in business management and the expectations her father imposes on her, and Orm, facing the demanding commitments of her rising modeling career.

Orm's vibrant, bubbly energy is in stark contrast to the palpable anxiety Yoko carries around with her, a shadow of the control Chet exerts over her life. Orm, with his infectious smile, plays with the straw in his drink as he begins to joke around, his own frustration transformed into a playful air that he tries to bestow upon his friend. "I heard something that might interest you. Did you know there's an opening for a secretary position at Malisorn's?" he says, winking and lowering his voice as if sharing a state secret. "You could be the next victim... I mean, employee. I mention this because you told me you wanted a job to become independent; you only have a couple of classes left to finish your degree."

Yoko cracks a smile, a spark of excitement shining in her eyes as she nervously strokes the rim of her fogged glass. "The position sounds great, it would give me a lot of experience... but typical workplace siege? I didn't know Malisorn's was a combat zone!" Despite knowing the name of the mega-company that had revolutionized fashion in Southeast Asia, the internal details are an enveloping mystery that intrigues and terrifies her in equal parts. Dreams and nightmares, both longings colliding in her mind.

Orm laughs, raising her glass in a knowing gesture as the ice cubes clink. "Exactly! I heard stories about how Faye, the CEO, treats her secretaries. I was told that one of them came out crying because Faye never repeats an order, not even once! Can you imagine? They say she has a memory like a computer and expects the same from everyone."

Yoko listens, amused but also intrigued. A rebellious lock of her black hair falls over her face, and her laughter hides a growing unease. "Well, I've been looking for a dungeon... you know, to escape my father's castle." The joke, though light, hides the truth of her desire to break free, a longing that intensifies with each passing day under strict paternal control. Yoko feels the air poisoned by the fear of disappointing him, and the thought of plunging into a hostile environment like Malisorn's, though intriguing, is also terrifying.