TRACKS

the downfall

Inside the delivery room, the cries of Sky’s newborn daughter filled the air, tiny but strong. The doctor gently placed the swaddled infant into Sky’s trembling arms. His tears spilled freely, but they weren’t only tears of joy something inside him twisted, heavy and suffocating.

He cradled the baby close, pressing his lips to her soft forehead. “Hey, little star,” he whispered, his voice shaky but tender. “You’re here now. You’re safe.” He smiled faintly, but his eyes flicked toward the door, as though searching for someone who wasn’t there.

The unease grew. It gnawed at him, sharp and relentless. His chest tightened as his fingers stroked the baby’s cheek. “Why… why do I feel this way?” he murmured, half to himself, half to the child in his arms. “It should be the happiest moment of my life, but… it feels wrong. Something’s wrong.”

His grip tightened ever so slightly, protective. “Where’s Phoenix? Why hasn’t he come in yet? He promised” His breath hitched, his lips trembling as he looked at his daughter’s wide, blinking eyes. “Papa Phoenix promised he’d be here… to see you, to hold you. He wouldn’t miss this. He wouldn’t.”

Zee, standing nearby with tears of his own, exchanged a worried glance with the nurse, but Sky’s voice only grew more desperate.

“Tell me,” Sky pleaded, his eyes darting between the nurse and his father. “Where is Phoenix? Is he okay? Why do I feel like he’s not.... His words broke into sobs, fear clawing at his chest.

He bent his head, pressing his face into his baby’s blanket as zee assured him phoenix was better and out of danger from the gunshot . “don't worry yourself out ......the nurse actually came to inform us about phoenix's state right nurse.”

Nurse: yes ...........Mr Therapanyukul is actually out of danger ....but still unconscious

Sky: then can I see him

Zee: well that's the problem ......the doctor has actually told everyone to visit later...... as it's better that we let him heal first

The room fell silent except for the baby’s soft coos and Sky’s breaking heart, his instincts screamed telling him there's something they all weren't telling him
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The heavy mahogany doors of Venice’s study were shut tight, muffling the distant chaos of the outside world. He sat alone behind his desk, the dim light of the lamp casting sharp shadows across his face. His phone buzzed once in his hand, and he answered without hesitation, his voice flat.

“Yes?”

On the other end, the voice was calm, almost formal. “It’s done. Your daughter has been born, healthy and strong. But… Phoenix… he didn’t make it. The bullet was fatal. He’s gone.”

Venice’s lips parted slightly, but no words came. For a long moment, he didn’t move, didn’t breathe. The silence on his end was heavy, suffocating. He closed his eyes slowly, pressing his fingers against the bridge of his nose as if trying to contain something—something too fragile to be shown.

And then it happened. A single tear slipped from the corner of his eye, trailing down his cheek before falling onto the desk. He quickly wiped it away, jaw tightening, the familiar armor snapping back into place.

“...I see,” he whispered, voice low, trembling only in the faintest of cracks. His hand curled into a fist, knuckles white. “My daughter is here… and my cousin is gone. Balance. That’s what they call it, isn’t it?”

He leaned back in his chair, staring up at the ceiling, eyes glassy. “Phoenix… of all people, why you? You were the one who still believed in family.” His voice dropped to a whisper, almost inaudible. “And now, you’ve left me here burdened with blood and a child who doesn’t deserve this world I’ve dragged her into.”

The voice on the phone hesitated, but Venice cut them off sharply. “Enough. Don’t call me again unless it’s necessary.”

He ended the call and let the phone drop to the desk with a dull thud. Silence filled the study once more. Venice sat frozen, staring blankly at nothing, his hand slowly drifting to his chest where his heart ached the most. For all his cruelty, all his vengeance, for just that moment he was nothing but a broken man caught between loss and new life.

Another tear threatened, but this time he swallowed it back, forcing his face into its mask once more.
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The halls of the hospital were eerily quiet that night, the air thick with sorrow. Venice moved like a shadow, steps soundless, his face hidden beneath the brim of his coat. No guards, no entourage just him, and the weight of a thousand choices pressing on his shoulders.

He reached the corridor where muffled cries and broken voices bled through the sterile air. Peeking through the glass of the observation window, his breath caught.

Inside, the Therapanyukul family stood shattered. Porsche had collapsed against Tankhun, his cries raw, desperate, a man ripped apart from the inside. Pete sat quietly in a corner, silent tears streaming down his face, while Vegas hovered close, looking torn between rage and despair. Even Kinn, usually unshakable, was pale and trembling, his jaw tight as though holding in an unbearable scream.

They mourned Phoenix.
His cousin.
His blood.

Venice’s throat tightened, his hand pressing against the glass. When I died, no one wept like this, he thought bitterly. Only Mother… only Pete.

And yet, seeing their grief now, a strange pang struck him envy, but also longing. Phoenix had been loved. Deeply. Fiercely. Enough that his death cracked the very walls of the family apart.

Venice shut his eyes, a lone tear slipping free before he forced himself away. He could not stay. Not when the weight of his choices still pressed down on him.

The nursery was quieter. He stepped inside, and there she was his daughter. Small. Fragile. Beautiful. Wrapped in white, her tiny chest rose and fell in steady breaths. For a moment, all the hardness in Venice’s face melted away. He reached out, brushing a trembling finger against her cheek.

“Little one,” he whispered, voice breaking. “I should be happy. I should stay here, hold you, raise you. But… I am not the father you deserve. Not now. Not with this blood on my hands.”

His tears blurred her face, but he didn’t dare wipe them away, afraid his touch would soil her innocence. With a pained breath, he leaned down, pressing his lips against her forehead.

“Goodbye,” he whispered, voice trembling. “And always know… papa loves you.”

He lingered a moment longer, before turning, his chest tight, as though his very heart was tearing itself apart.

Just beyond the nursery, he found another room Rain’s. The younger lay unconscious, pale but serene, his hand resting protectively over his still-flat stomach. Venice froze in the doorway, every old scar splitting wide open.

Rain. The boy he loved. The boy he destroyed.

“Why do I always end up here?” Venice whispered hoarsely, walking closer. He reached out, fingers brushing Rain’s hand as though it might burn him. “Even after everything… my heart still comes back to you.”

He stood there, torn between the child he’d just left behind and the man before him. His chest rose and fell with silent sobs, until finally… he made his choice.

Carefully, almost reverently, Venice lifted Rain into his arms. The younger’s head rested against his shoulder, breath shallow but steady. For the first time in years, Venice allowed himself to hold him as though he belonged there.

He glanced once more toward the nursery, his daughter lying safe and untouched by the darkness of his world. His lips parted, his voice breaking into a whisper meant only for the walls and the night:

“Goodbye love........daddy will always love you......

And then, without another look back, Venice turned and walked out of the hospital, Rain cradled against his chest, disappearing into the shadows once more.

💙🌹💙🌹Am dead with this book