BANGKOK 2024 PART 1

December 14, 2024 – National Stadium, Bangkok

The stadium buzzed with pre-show energy, the low hum of preparations vibrating through the floors. Crew members weaved through the vast corridors, some adjusting earpieces, others carrying cases of equipment, their movements precise and efficient. The air smelled faintly of metal and dust, mingling with the crisp bite of the evening air drifting in from the loading docks.

Alex stood near the main security checkpoint, earpiece in, eyes sharp as she scanned the incoming reports on her tablet. It had been two years since she had worked a venue like this—two years since she had stood in this role not just as a leader, but as security. It should have felt foreign. It should have felt strange after everything.

But it didn't.

It felt right.

Her body had changed since the last time she had done this. She was stronger now, her recovery behind her, but there were still things she had to adjust for—her lack of a firearm, the heightened awareness of her own limits, the way her team now worked to protect her as much as she protected them. But muscle memory was a powerful thing, and so was instinct.

The small Korean team she had built under Golden Stag stood alert around her, dressed in their sleek, all-black security uniforms, earpieces synced, movements crisp and professional. They had worked together long enough now that communication was second nature—silent signals, a glance, a subtle shift in position. They were the best of the best, trained to match the heightened security needs of Stray Kids' international tours.

And tonight, she was leading them.

Mac stood beside her, scanning the venue map on his phone. His sleeves were rolled up, exposing the ink winding down his forearms, and his expression was as sharp as ever—military-trained efficiency paired with the ease of someone who had done this for years. He flicked his gaze up at her, smirking slightly.

"Well, boss, how does it feel? Back in the trenches after two years of sitting behind the big CEO desk?"

Alex snorted, not bothering to look up from her tablet as she swiped through the security logs. "Are you implying I don't do real work, Mac?"

"Never," he said smoothly. "Just saying you look a hell of a lot happier out here than you do in boardrooms."

She hummed, neither confirming nor denying. Because he wasn't wrong.

A voice crackled in her earpiece. "Main floor clear, no unauthorized personnel. VIP entrance secured."

Alex pressed a finger to the small mic clipped to her collar. "Copy that. Check in with perimeter team and keep an eye on guest access points. Stay sharp. I want updates every fifteen minutes until showtime."

A chorus of confirmations filtered back through the line.

She turned her attention to the stage entrance, eyes flicking over the access control points, the presence of local security, and the metal detectors already in place. No weak spots so far.

Mac exhaled, stretching his arms above his head. "Gotta say, this is the smoothest pre-show I've worked in a while. You run a tight ship, Taylor."

She smirked. "CEO perks. I get to hand-pick the best."

He chuckled, shaking his head before turning serious again. "Alright, I'm gonna do one more sweep of the lower levels before we clear the green rooms. You good up here?"

"Always."

Mac gave her a two-fingered salute before disappearing down the corridor, leaving her alone for the first time in hours.

Or almost alone.

She felt him before she saw him.

The warmth of his presence, the subtle shift in energy that only came when Chan was near.

She didn't need to turn to know he was there. The soft shuffle of his sneakers, the way his breath hitched just slightly before he reached her.

Then—his hand on the small of her back.

Gentle. Grounding.

"You're in your element," Chan murmured, voice just for her, low and rough against the shell of her ear. "I missed seeing you like this."

Alex tilted her head slightly, just enough to catch the warmth in his eyes. "It's only for one night."

"Doesn't matter." His thumb brushed over the fabric of her shirt, absent but so intentional. "You love this."

She did.

She didn't have to say it.

His other hand slid into hers, just for a moment, just long enough to lace their fingers together and squeeze.

This was new.

Being able to be like this in public.

No more careful distance. No more quiet, stolen moments behind closed doors.

She was his wife.

And he didn't have to hide it.

Alex allowed herself a second, just one, to lean into his touch. To breathe him in. To soak in the quiet certainty of having him here.

Then, reality called.

A voice over the comms. "Lead, we have a potential issue at Gate C. VIP escort miscommunication."

She sighed, already shifting gears. "I got it."

Chan huffed a soft laugh, pulling back just enough to let her move but not before pressing a quick, private kiss to her temple. "Go save the day, CEO."

Alex smirked as she adjusted her earpiece, already walking toward the issue.

Yeah.

She was back.

Alex moved quickly through the corridors, her boots quiet but purposeful against the concrete floor. The voices in her earpiece buzzed with updates, but she filtered out the unnecessary chatter, focusing only on the issue at hand.

Gate C. VIP access. Escort miscommunication.

She'd dealt with worse.

The entrance came into view, the wide metal barriers sectioning off the VIP lane from general admission. A small knot of people stood near the security desk—two VIP guests, both dressed in high-end designer clothing, their expressions shifting between impatience and irritation. A local security officer stood in front of them, posture rigid, speaking rapidly in Thai. The Golden Stag officer stationed there, Sungho, looked equally exasperated but was maintaining his professional demeanor.

Alex read the tension instantly—the kind of situation that could escalate if not handled correctly.

She smoothed her expression and stepped in with authority.

"What's the issue?" she asked, her voice even, controlled.

Sungho turned slightly, recognizing her immediately. "They claim they're on the artist's guest list, but their credentials don't match what we have on file. Their passes are marked for premium seating, not backstage access."

The taller of the two men, dressed in a sharp black blazer and flashing the kind of arrogance that came from wealth, scoffed. "We were personally invited by Chan. This is ridiculous. Do you have any idea who we are?"

Alex barely restrained the urge to roll her eyes. The 'I know the artist' excuse was the oldest one in the book.

"I do know who you are," she said smoothly. "And I also know that if Chan wanted you backstage, you'd have the correct credentials."

The man's mouth tightened, clearly unused to being challenged. "Are you seriously telling me you're going to stop us?"

"Yes."

The flatness in her tone made the second man shift uneasily.

Alex held their gazes, her stance unwavering. "I'm Alexandra Taylor-Bang. CEO of Golden Stag. And more importantly—his wife. If my husband had personally invited you backstage, I'd know about it."

The weight of her words settled over them like a lead blanket. The arrogance in the first man's eyes flickered—just for a second—before he recovered, straightening his blazer as if that would somehow restore his position. His companion shifted awkwardly, looking between Alex and the security team with growing discomfort.

The local security officer glanced at Sungho, clearly waiting for a cue, but Sungho didn't move. He was already used to how Alex handled situations like this.

The first man scoffed, crossing his arms. "I don't see how that's relevant—"

Alex tilted her head, unimpressed. "It's relevant because you're trying to use my husband's name to bypass my security team, and that's not going to happen." Her tone didn't waver, cool and absolute. "So either you produce verifiable proof that he invited you backstage, or you accept that your passes are for premium seating only."

The second man, the quieter one, was already looking uneasy. "Maybe we should just—"

"No," the first man snapped, cutting him off. He turned back to Alex, his expression settling into something smug. "Fine. Call him. He'll clear this up."

Alex's lips twitched. Oh, he walked right into that one.

She didn't even hesitate—pulling her phone out of her pocket so she could call him.

The phone barely rang twice before Chan picked up, his voice warm, unconcerned. "Hey, love, everything okay?"

Alex didn't take her eyes off the man in front of her as she spoke, voice smooth but edged with irritation. "Are you expecting two VIP guests backstage?"

There was a beat of silence, then, "No."

She hummed, satisfied. "That's what I thought."

The man's smugness faltered. His confidence cracked, just slightly, but Alex wasn't finished. She held the phone up, putting Chan on speaker so his voice carried over the entrance area.

"Who's trying to get backstage?" Chan's tone had shifted—no longer the warm husband, but the leader of Stray Kids. The one who had zero tolerance for bullshit.

The taller man cleared his throat, attempting to recover. "It's just a misunderstanding, mate, we—"

"I'm not your mate." Chan's voice was sharp, the warmth gone entirely. "I don't know who you are. And if you're using my name to bypass security, you're not just lying—you're disrespecting my wife and her team. And that's not something I take lightly."

Alex raised a brow, watching the color drain from the man's face. He had miscalculated.

Chan exhaled through the phone, the weight of his irritation settling over the moment. "Alex, if they're causing issues, I trust you to handle it however you see fit."

She smirked. "Good answer."

And then she turned back to the men, no softness left in her expression. "You heard him."

The first man, now visibly sweating, tried again. "Listen, we just—"

"No," Alex cut him off, her tone absolute. "Here's how this is going to work. You're going to take your VIP passes and enjoy the show from your assigned seats. Or, I'll remove you from the venue entirely. Your choice."

The second man, who clearly had more self-preservation instincts, grabbed his friend's arm and tugged him back. "Let's go."

The first man hesitated, still clinging to whatever delusion had convinced him this would go in his favor, but a single look at Alex—at the steel in her gaze, at the unwavering stance of her team, at the security staff now subtly closing in—finally seemed to make him realize.

He had already lost.

Muttering something under his breath, he turned, stalking off toward the VIP seating section. His companion followed, still looking vaguely mortified.

Alex waited until they were out of earshot before she brought the phone back to her ear.

"You still there?"

Chan's low chuckle was her answer. "God you're sexy. Did I ever tell you watching you work security for us when I first met you was one of the reasons I fell in love with you. Something about a woman in power. Mmmm."

Alex couldn't help the slow smirk that curled across her lips as she listened to the low, appreciative rumble of her husband's voice in her ear. She had handled plenty of difficult people in her time, but this—hearing Chan openly admit how much he loved seeing her like this, in her element, commanding a space—was a different kind of satisfaction.

"I remember," she mused, turning on her heel and walking back toward the main corridor, her team following smoothly in her wake. "You stared at me a lot back then."

"Still do," Chan murmured, his voice a touch lower, more intimate. "Especially when you get that look. The one that says you could ruin someone's entire night without a care."

"I'll ruin your night."

Chan let out a soft, husky laugh through the phone, the kind that sent a pleasant shiver down her spine. God, that laugh. "Depends on how you mean it, love," he murmured, his voice full of implications that had nothing to do with work and everything to do with what he'd do to her once they were alone.

Alex rolled her eyes, but the smirk playing at her lips betrayed her. "Not in the way you're hoping, Bang," she drawled, shifting gears smoothly as she reached the next security checkpoint. Her team moved around her with quiet efficiency, instinctively giving her space as she continued the conversation. "I'm still working, remember? Unlike some people, I can't just flirt my way through my job."

"I beg to differ," Chan countered, unbothered. "You flirt with me all the time while doing your job. Just did, actually."

She huffed a laugh, shaking her head as she glanced at her watch. The show was starting soon, and she needed to make a final sweep before heading to the green rooms. "Keep talking like that, and I might just bump up our security clearance policy for spouses. You might find yourself getting frisked on the way to the stage."

There was a beat of silence, then a deep exhale through the line. "Okay, first of all, rude. Second of all—" his voice dropped an octave, teasing and wicked, "don't threaten me with a good time."

Alex smirked, shaking her head as she turned a corner, the final checkpoint before the main stage entrance coming into view. Chan's voice still hummed in her ear, a quiet thread of warmth amid the cool, clinical precision of her job.

"I'll see you after the show," she murmured, letting the promise linger between them.

Chan chuckled, low and affectionate. "Love you."

"Love you too."

Alex moved swiftly down the corridor, the tension in her shoulders easing as the VIP issue resolved itself. The show was set to start soon, and with every security concern locked down, the pre-show rush was winding down. But just as she reached the final security checkpoint before the green rooms, her earpiece crackled with another update.

"Lead, we have a situation at Checkpoint B. Female attempting unauthorized access. Security has detained her."

Alex stopped mid-stride. Her gaze sharpened.

Not another one.

She pressed two fingers to her earpiece. "Copy that. I'm on my way."

Her team reacted instantly, falling into step as she turned on her heel and headed for Checkpoint B. Mac's voice filtered through the comms a second later.

"Alex, I'm already en route."

She wasn't surprised. Mac's instincts were as sharp as hers. He knew a potential threat when he saw one.

When she reached the checkpoint, she spotted two of her men standing firm, blocking the path to a restricted hallway. Between them stood a young woman—mid-twenties, dressed in designer streetwear, her hair styled perfectly, makeup on point. She wasn't some desperate fan in over her head. She was prepared.

And that put Alex on edge.

The woman's wide eyes flickered with something between defiance and nervousness as she took in Alex's arrival. She wasn't alone—two local security officers flanked her on either side, their expressions neutral but alert.

Mac was already there, standing off to the side, arms crossed, watching the situation unfold with the kind of calm wariness that came from years in security.

Alex stopped a few feet away, taking in the scene with sharp, assessing eyes.

One of her men, Seojin, stepped forward, nodding. "Caught her trying to slip through the service entrance. Said she was looking for Hyunjin."

Alex's gaze cut to the woman, who flinched under the weight of her stare. "That true?"

The woman hesitated, then lifted her chin, clearly trying to regain control of the situation. "He invited me, told me to meet him here."

Alex couldn't help the snort that escaped her throat.

It wasn't just a snort. It was a full-blown laugh, short and sharp, before she quickly smothered it with the back of her hand. The sheer audacity of it—Hyunjin, her Hyunjin, inviting a woman backstage? God, that was rich.

The woman's expression faltered, confusion flickering across her face. "What's so funny?" she demanded, her voice defensive.

Alex took a breath, composing herself, but the amusement still danced in her eyes. "Sweetheart," she drawled, shaking her head, "Hyunjin is many things, but he's not the type to bring a random woman backstage during a tour. Try again."

The woman's lips pressed together in frustration, her confidence slipping under Alex's steady, unamused gaze. She shifted her purse higher on her shoulder, her manicured fingers tightening around the clear straps—a nervous tell.

Alex's eyes flickered down for a split second, taking in the transparent plastic bag at her side. The usual—a sleek wallet, a compact, a phone—and a tiny baggie of pills shoved to the bottom.

Her entire demeanor shifted in an instant.

The mild amusement vanished. The easy smirk disappeared. Cold, professional, lethal focus took its place.

She had seen that particular shade of blue-green before. Ecstasy pills.

Fury curled in her chest, white-hot and immediate.

Not in her venue.

Not at her show.

Not anywhere near her family.

Mac saw it too. She didn't have to say a word. His expression darkened, his jaw tightening as he took a casual step forward, effortlessly cutting off the woman's only available exit route.

The woman must have realized something had changed because she stiffened, eyes darting between them. "What?" she said, feigning innocence. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

Alex didn't answer immediately. She just lifted her hand, gesturing lazily toward her security officer. "Seojin. Search the bag."

The woman's face paled. "You can't—"

"I can." Alex's voice was razor-sharp, all humor gone. "You brought a clear bag into a venue running a full security sweep. You might as well have handed me the evidence yourself."

One of the local security officers reached for the purse, but before he could even unzip it, the woman bolted.

Rookie mistake.

She barely made it two steps before Mac snagged her arm with zero effort, twisting it behind her back with a practiced ease that made Alex shake her head.

"Seriously?" Mac sighed as the woman let out a sharp yelp, struggling in his grip. "What, you think we don't train for this?"

Alex exhaled sharply through her nose, leveling the woman with an unimpressed stare. "We're in Bangkok. You do realize drug possession here isn't some slap-on-the-wrist fine, right?"

The woman froze.

Oh.

Now she understood.

Alex sighed, rolling her shoulders back as she nodded to one of the local officers. "Get her out of here. Call BMA law enforcement. Let them handle it."

The woman immediately started protesting, twisting in Mac's hold. "No—wait, please! It's not mine, I—"

Alex cut her off with a look so sharp it could have sliced through steel. "You don't get to talk." Her voice was low, venomous, each syllable laced with controlled fury. "You don't get to beg. You walked into my venue with drugs, planning to slip them to someone in my family, and you think I'm going to listen to a damn thing you have to say?" She let out a sharp, humorless laugh. "Sweetheart, you're lucky I'm calling law enforcement instead of handling this myself."

The woman's face had gone completely pale, her bravado shattering into pieces. She glanced wildly around, as if looking for an escape, but there wasn't one. Not with Mac's grip firm on her arm. Not with Alex standing in front of her, radiating pure, lethal fury.

One of the local officers stepped forward, already pulling out his radio to notify authorities. "She'll be detained and held for questioning," he said to Alex, his tone professional, but with the smallest flicker of wariness when he looked at her face. He wasn't used to seeing someone like her—someone who wasn't law enforcement, but commanded just as much fear and respect.

Alex exhaled slowly, forcing herself to unclench her fists. This wasn't the time to lose control. She had power in this situation, and she needed to wield it strategically.

"Take her," she said coolly. "And make sure her name is flagged in every system we have. She doesn't set foot near another Stray Kids event again."

The officer nodded and gestured to his partner, who took the woman's other arm. As they started leading her away, she twisted her head over her shoulder, her voice suddenly desperate. "It wasn't like that! I swear—I just—!"

Alex took a deliberate step forward, cutting her off with just her presence.

"Shut up."

It was barely above a whisper, but it had the weight of a gunshot.

The woman flinched. Hard.

Alex watched as they dragged her away, her pulse still hammering against her ribs, her body thrumming with restrained aggression.

She hadn't felt this kind of anger in a long time.

Not since she was in the Army.

Not since the last time she had to protect the people she loved from something vile.

Mac let out a slow whistle, crossing his arms as he leaned back against the nearest wall. "Jesus, Alex," he muttered. "You could fry someone alive with that look."

Alex exhaled sharply, dragging a hand through her hair. "She was planning to drug one of them, Mac," she said, voice low and raw. "One of my boys."

Mac's gaze hardened. His easy smirk vanished.

"Yeah," he murmured. "I know."

And he did. Because he'd seen that expression on her before. The one that said she wasn't just a CEO right now. She wasn't just a bodyguard.

She was a soldier again.

Alex turned her head, gaze flickering over the security team that had gathered nearby, waiting for her command. They were all watching her with quiet respect—none of them questioning her, none of them doubting that she had handled it exactly the way it needed to be handled.

She took a slow breath, forcing her shoulders to relax. She couldn't carry that rage with her all night.

She needed to let it go.

But she wouldn't forget it.

Mac shifted beside her, giving her a sideways glance. "You gonna tell Chan?"

Alex let out a humorless laugh. "Not tonight. He needs to focus on putting on a good show."

Mac nodded, but there was an edge to his expression, a knowing look that told her he didn't fully agree with that decision. "Alright," he said, straightening, but his voice was quieter. "But he's gonna find out eventually. And when he does, he's not gonna take it well."

Alex knew that. She could already picture the way Chan's face would tighten, how his easy, warm demeanor would vanish in an instant the moment he realized someone had planned to slip drugs to one of his members—his family. How his anger would be quiet, restrained, but burning hot beneath the surface.

And then there was Hyunjin.

God.

He was going to lose it.

She blew out a slow breath, pressing her fingers into her temple. "I'll tell him," she muttered. "But after the show. Not before."

Mac hummed, clearly unconvinced, but he didn't push. Instead, he pushed off the wall, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Alright. I'll check in with venue security, make sure she's processed and out of here before the night's over."

Alex nodded. "Thanks, Mac."

His smirk returned, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. "Anytime, boss."

She watched him walk off, his posture easy, but his eyes scanning every corridor, every shadow, every potential threat.

Just like hers.

Just like they always had.

The comm in her ear crackled.

"Lead, the team's in final positions. Showtime in twenty."