~ Never let me go ~

Special chap

The morning sun bathed the Kittisawat compound in soft gold, streaking through the tall windows and reflecting off the polished floors. It was a different kind of kingdom now—not ruled by fear or blood, but by family. The legacy of power still lingered in the marble and glass, but laughter had taken the place of gunshots. Love had grown thick like vines over the past wounds.

In the heart of the mansion, Porsche stood in the open kitchen, flipping pancakes with the same fierce concentration he once reserved for hand-to-hand combat.

"Jackson!" he yelled up the stairs. "If you're not down here in thirty seconds, I'm eating your share!"

A thump from the second floor, followed by rapid footsteps.

"Not fair!" a voice cried. "You always threaten me with food!"

"Because it works every time!" Porsche called back, grinning.

Jackson, ten years old with Kinn's sharp eyes and Porsche's endless energy, skidded into the kitchen in socks. He was all limbs and excitement, his messy hair bouncing with every step.

"Is May up?" Porsche asked, ruffling his son's hair.

"She's brushing her teeth. She said she wants braids today."

Porsche raised an eyebrow. "Again? That takes forever..."

A soft laugh came from behind them.

"I'll do it," Kinn said as he stepped into the kitchen, suited up and already smelling like expensive cologne and quiet authority. He kissed Porsche on the cheek before heading toward the hallway. "I promised her braids last night."

Porsche smiled as he flipped another pancake. Twelve years of marriage and Kinn was still making promises at bedtime—and keeping them in the morning.

As if on cue, a soft knock sounded at the front door.

Tawan entered, dressed in his sleek black suit, earpiece in place. His expression was as unreadable as always, but his nod to Porsche was respectful.

"Good morning, Khun Porsche."

"Morning, Tawan. You look like you're headed to a funeral."

Tawan cracked the tiniest smirk. "Bodyguard uniform doesn't allow for much personality."

"Well, good thing we have enough of that for you," Porsche teased, handing him a plate. "You're eating breakfast with us."

"I'm supposed to check the perimeter."

"Eat first. Then check. Unless you want May to scold you again for skipping meals?"

Tawan sighed in surrender and took a seat at the kitchen table. Even now, a decade into this new life, he was still adjusting to the fact that the family he was protecting treated him like part of it.

Minutes later, May came down the stairs wearing a yellow sundress with little sunflowers on it, a small box of hair ties in hand.

"Papa, you promised," she said, looking straight at Kinn with her big brown eyes.

"I remember, May," Kinn said, crouching to her level. "Come here, let's get started."

As Kinn began weaving her hair into neat braids, May hummed softly, occasionally directing him like a tiny general. Porsche watched from the counter, his chest swelling with something deeper than pride. It was awe. Every once in a while, he still woke up thinking it was all a dream—the life, the marriage, the kids. And then he'd roll over to see Kinn asleep beside him and hear Jackson snoring in the next room, and he'd remember: this was real.