Chapter 9

PHAYU'S POV

The sound is so small, so frightened, it cuts through the room like a scalpel.

I snatch the phone out of his hand like my life depends on it. Rain jerks beside me, wide-eyed, mouth falling open.

"Baby? Baby, are you okay? Papa's here," he says before I can speak. His voice breaks on the second 'baby'.

There's static. A shaky breath.

"Papa?" she whispers. "I'm scared. I don't want to play anymore. Come and get me, please."

My knees almost give. I close my eyes and drag in a breath through my teeth, trying not to lose it. My voice shakes despite me.

"Baby, is Miss Kora there? Did she take you?"

A sniff. "Miss Kora said we were going on an adventure. I don't like adventures, Papa. Miss Kora... she's mean."

My hand clenches so tight around the phone I hear it creak. I glance at Saifah—he's already working, already running the trace. Good.

Rain drops to his knees beside me, clutching my arm like a lifeline.

"I'm so sorry, baby," he says, voice barely holding together. "We're coming, okay? Me and Dada, we're coming to get you. Just stay strong for me, alright? I promise. I promise we're coming."

He's crying. I can feel his tears hit my wrist.

And then Saifah says it "Got it."

But before I can move, another voice crackles in the background.

"Kaia?! Where are you?!"

We all go still.

I hear Kaia yelp. Scuffling. Raised voices. A door slamming.

Then...

The line goes dead.

Kaia's POV

Miss Kora's hand hurts.

She grabs my arm so tight it feels like fire. Her nails scratch, and I try to pull away, but she just squeezes harder. Her face is red again, red like the apples Papa cuts for me after school, but her eyes aren't nice like his. They're big and mean and shiny with tears.

"Who did you call?!" she screams, shaking me so hard my teeth hit together. "Whose number, Kaia?! Why did you do that?!"

My throat locks. I can't say anything. I didn't mean to make her mad. I just missed home. I just wanted to hear Papa's voice.

"I told you I'm your mama now!" she yells. Her breath smells funny, and her hair is messy. "Your dad is coming, and we'll be a family! Don't you understand? Now we have to leave again!"

My stomach hurts. I don't want to go anywhere. I want Papa and Dada to find me.

She drags me toward the door. My shoes scrape the floor. I whisper, "I don't wanna go. I want my Papa."

"Stop it!" she snaps, shaking me again. "He doesn't love you like I do! He—he stole everything! He took—" Her words get messy, like she can't finish them. She's crying now, angry crying, the kind that sounds like growling.

I close my eyes and whisper what Dada always says when thunder scares me."Be brave, little tiger. Tigers don't cry."

My heart beats too fast, but I bite my lip and try not to make a sound.

Miss Kora is talking to herself now, pacing, pulling my arm whenever I slow down. She keeps saying, "We have to move, before he finds us."

I hope Dada does.

Because I'm tired, and I'm scared, and I don't want to play adventures anymore.

I just want to go home.

Rain's POV

My hands are still shaking.

I stare at them in my lap, fingers curled too tightly to feel. The car is silent except for the hum of tires on the highway and the occasional click of Win's rifle being checked again up front.

Phi hasn't spoken in ten minutes. His jaw is clenched so hard it looks painful, veins taut against his neck. He's holding the iPad where the call logs and thermal imaging are synced. He hasn't blinked since the last ping came in.

The car cuts through traffic. The convoy behind us glints under the streetlights—our men, our machines. But it's not enough.

Nothing is.

Kaia's voice is still in my head."Papa? I'm scared. I don't want to play anymore."

It broke something open in me and stitched something else back together. She's alive.Scared, but alive.

And that alone is enough to stop the tears. For now.

Win told us during one of her "Uncle Games"—he made her memorize his number. Taught her how to sneak a phone. How to press call. How to speak softly. Be small. Hide.

In case she got lost.

In case someone came.

In case she did something and didn't want me or Phi to know.

He said , "she knows how to operate her iPad, so why not?" And yeah. Why not.

I hate that.

I hate that I didn't think of that.

Hate that I waved it off, all those lessons that made her something more than a five-year-old girl with bows and books. I wanted her to be normal.

I stopped Phi from putting the tracker on her. I told him it was too paranoid. I raised my brows when Saifah gave her a pink plastic knife and told her where to stab if someone took her from behind.

I shut it down when Win tried to teach her how to slip out of ropes, how to breathe through panic.

I just...

I didn't want that life for her.

Not yet.

I wanted her to play. To sing. To get bubble tea with her friends and cry about cartoon boys and glitter shoes.

But she's a mafia princess.

She's our legacy.

And she was never going to get to be normal.

I look out the window. The lights blur. My heart feels like it's being wrung out in someone else's hands.

Phi reaches over and grips my thigh. No words. Just pressure. Solid. Real.

I don't need him to say anything.I already know what he's thinking.

We get her back.We burn everything in our way.

And I swear to God, when I have her in my arms again—she'll never be unprepared.

KAIA'S POV

Miss Kora is mad again. Her face is red and her voice is mad, mad like when I spilled juice on Papa's white sofa that one time—but worse. She's saying bad words. Words I know I'm not supposed to repeat.

I sit very still in the corner, my hands in my lap like Grandpapa taught me, but my legs are shaking.

I'm scared.

But Dada always says I'm his tiger. And tigers don't cry.

So I won't cry.

Not even when my throat feels tight and my nose is sniffly and my chest hurts from missing home.

Aunty Isha said we had to go with Miss Kora for an adventure. I said I didn't want to. I said I wanted Papa. I asked where Dada was. Aunty Isha said he'd find us, and I should be brave. But she looked sad when she said it. And then I didn't see her again.

Aunty Isha said its like a game. Hide and seek. But it's not fun anymore.

It stopped being fun a long time ago.

This place smells bad. I don't like the blanket Miss Kora gave me—it's scratchy and smells like funny. I miss my unicorn blanket. The pink one. The one Papa warms in the dryer before bedtime.

I want to go home.

I want to see Dada. I want him to hold me and put his forehead on mine and say "My brave tiger."

I want Papa to sing me that sleepy song with the birds and the moon.

I want Uncle Win to do the silly voice he uses when he teaches me about guns.

I want Fah Fah to lift me high and kiss my cheeks at once.

I want Granpapa to braid my hair and say I look like a princess.

I want Grandada to let me do "surgery" on him with my toy scalpel.

I want Uncle Sky's lemon tart. And Uncle Pai's sparkly pens.

I just want... home.

Miss Kora says i should call her Mama.

I shake my head real fast. "No," I tell her. "You're not my Mama."

She got mad. Threw something. Said Papa would learn.

But I don't care.

Because my mama is Papa.And my dada is the strongest man in the whole world.And I know they're coming.

I just have to wait.

I just have to be a brave little tiger a little bit longer.

Rain's POV

The car hums under us, the tension coiled so tight it's ready to snap—until Saifah swears under his breath.

"Shit. The phone's moving."

I sit up instantly. So does Phi.

Saifah doesn't look away from the screen. His voice is clipped, rapid-fire as he scrolls. "It's not static anymore. Signal's shifting. She's on the move."

My stomach twists. Kora's going to dump the phone. She's smart enough not to make the same mistake twice.

Kaia got through once. She won't get another chance.

And the fear comes back. Cold. Suffocating.

Because the moment she tosses that phone...We're blind.

And Kaia is gone.

I grip the headrest in front of me so hard my fingers ache. "No, no—come on—just a few more minutes—"

Saifah's voice cuts through everything like a blade.

"Signal's lost."

Silence.

Phi's already moving. His voice is ice as he unlocks his phone and hits speed dial. The line picks up on the first ring.

"It's me," he says. "Last ping was thirty clicks around the industrial strip outside Bangkok. Put out feelers immediately—anyone near that radius, any woman traveling with a child. I want all eyes. All mouths. I don't care what it costs."

He hangs up without waiting for a reply.

I cover my face with both hands. I want to scream. I want to tear the seats out of this fucking car. I want to grab Kora by the throat and ask her how she dares—how she dares—steal my baby and tell her she's Mama.

"She's still close," Saifah says. "She can't be far. Not with a kid."

Phi leans forward. His voice is low, dangerous. "We lock that area. Now."

My throat burns. I bite down hard on my lip, forcing myself to stay upright. For her.

Because she's out there somewhere.Because she's scared.Because we promised her we were coming.

And I don't break my promises.Not to my daughter.

Kora's POV

The road is narrow and endless. The headlights from the stolen car stutter across the trees, and every shadow looks like a hand reaching for me.

The phone keeps ringing in my head even though it's gone. I threw it out the window five minutes ago, but I can still hear it.

That tiny little voice—Kaia's voice—whispering.

I glance at her in the back seat. She's small and quiet now, clutching that stupid bunny like it's going to save her. The one I always told her was distracting in class. Her eyes are red, but she isn't crying. Not yet. She's Rain's daughter, after all—dramatic little thing.

Her lips move like she's whispering something to herself. Singing maybe, or one of the many dialogues from her cartoons.

I grip the steering wheel tighter until the leather creaks. My knuckles ache. The voice in my head—the one that sounds like my mother—says, Nobody can love you, nobody wants you, not even him.

I glance at her again, and something twists in me.

She should've been mine.

I've watched her grow. I've watched how her eyes light up when Rain picks her up in those immaculate whites, like a prince in a children's book.

Always too pretty, too perfect, too soft.

I saw the way he looked at me during parent-teacher meetings. All sweetness and teeth. Like I didn't know what I was talking about. Like I wasn't trained. Like I wasn't worthy.

And Phayu—God, Phayu.He always thanked me. Always held my gaze a little too long.He saw me.

He's forgotten, maybe. But he knew me once.And he will know me again.

...

Kaia shifts behind me, sniffling. "Miss Kora... I want to go home."

The words slice through me. I slam the brakes too hard, and the car jolts to a stop. Kaia gasps, her little hands gripping the seatbelt.

I twist in my seat to face her, hair falling loose from my bun.

"Don't call me Miss Kora!" I snap, twisting toward her. "I told you, I'm your mama now! I love you, Kaia. I'll take care of you. We'll have a family—me, you, and your dada. He'll see. He'll understand once he sees us together."

Her eyes fill with tears, and she shakes her head. "You're not my mama."

The sound she makes when she says it—it's small, trembling, certain—rips something open inside me.

I laugh, but it cracks halfway through. "You don't understand, baby. You'll see soon. I love you. I love your dada very much. We're meant to be a family. You having two fathers—that was never ideal. That's confusing for a child. That's why you've been struggling."

She stares at me, confused. Hurt. I reach for her face, but she flinches away, and suddenly I hate her for it. Hate her for having his eyes. Hate her for making me feel like I'm the monster in this story.

"You'll see," I whisper, half to her, half to myself. "It's okay, When he comes, he'll see how good I can be. I can be the mother you need. He just... he just has to see it. Rain, he ruined everything. But I'm going to fix it. Dada will see, once we're all together. He'll see you're better off with me."

She looks out the window again. Her lip trembles, but she doesn't cry.

Strong girl.

Just like her father.

I press the gas again and keep going. The signal's already gone. They're behind us, but they won't catch up.

I put the car back in gear, wiping my face with the back of my hand. My reflection in the rearview mirror looks wrong—mascara streaked, eyes wild. I don't even recognize myself anymore.

The voice in my head whispers again.Keep driving. Don't let them find you. Don't let him take her away.

Not before he hears me out.Not before I show him what we could've had...what we still can.

...

"Miss Kora," she says suddenly, voice soft but clear."I need to pee."

Fuck.

My grip tightens on the steering wheel. My pulse spikes.

"Now?" I snap.

She flinches. I hate that I made her flinch.She's a child. Of course she's going to be hungry. Tired. Scared.And of course—of course—she's going to need a fucking bathroom.

I press my lips together and exhale hard. The road blurs past as my mind races. I can't take her anywhere crowded. Not into a city. Not near security. Not near cameras.

Then I see it.A filling station. Old, worn, half-lit.There's a convenience store attached. One of those side-of-the-road pit stops, probably run by some half-asleep teenager and a single CCTV camera pointed at the floor.

Good enough.

I flick my turn signal on out of habit, like anyone's watching. Then I yank my cap lower over my face and pull in, slow and smooth.

"Keep your head down," I murmur. "No talking unless I tell you to."

She nods. She's too quiet again. It unsettles me more than if she were crying.

I park in the corner, furthest from the store. Engine off. Hand on the door.I glance at her.

"You tell anyone who you are, I swear to God—"

"I won't," she whispers.

She holds herself like she's cold. Or maybe just trying to be brave.Rain's daughter. Even scared, she's stubborn.

I get out first. I scan the lot. No one pays us any attention. A delivery truck is pulling out. Two mopeds are parked out front. A man leans against the vending machine smoking.

I walk around and open her door. I Take her hand.

"Act normal," I whisper. "You wanted a bathroom. Let's go."

And we walk into the store.

Phayu's POV

The car's so quiet I can hear the heartbeat in my own throat. Every second that ticks by feels like a year.

Rain's next to me, staring out the window like he's memorizing the world in reverse, jaw clenched, hands still trembling from when Kaia's voice disappeared off the line.

I'm holding it together by will alone. Because I have to. Because if I fall apart, we don't get her back.

Then—Saifah swears.

"Got her."

I snap my head up. Rain jerks upright beside me.

Saifah's eyes are on his tablet. "CCTV face recognition just pinged—gas station. She stopped by a filling station about five minutes ago, rural edge, north road."

My chest seizes, then thaws in a rush of adrenaline.

"Good," I breathe. "Fucking good."

Rain's hand flies to my thigh, gripping hard, nails digging in. I don't even flinch. I grab the comm unit and bark the order, fast.

"Route lock. No traffic stops. No detours. We move now. Scramble nearby ground team to intercept from the opposite road. Quiet entry."

The car accelerates, the engine growling as it pushes past 120 km/h.

Rain's eyes are wide. Hope and fear, fighting for space.

"Soon, baby," I murmur, voice low and deadly calm. "I'm coming."

I reach for his hand, grip it tight.

"We're coming."

Kaia's POV

I don't need to pee.I just didn't want to be in the car anymore—going far, far away from Papa and Dada.

The bathroom smells bad. Like wet mop and old soap. The floor is sticky and the mirror is cracked. I miss my pink bathroom at home, the one Papa fills with bubbles that smell like strawberries.

Miss Kora stands near the sink, looking around fast. Her cap is pulled low and her hands keep shaking.

I peek out through the open door. There's a lady, smiling at another aunty by the fridges. They both look kind. For a second I think maybe I can ask for help, but Miss Kora looked kind at school too and now not so much.

I see another aunty walking toward the door with a bottle of water and an uncle holding snacks. They look normal. Like parents.

And I just run.

My shoes slip on the floor, but I don't stop. Miss Kora shouts my name—loud, angry—but I keep running. My legs feel like noodles but I run and run until I nearly trip.

The aunty catches me before I fall. "Whoa, hey—hey, sweetheart!"

I grab her arms tight. "I want my Papa, I want to go home!"

She blinks, confused. "Your papa?"

Miss Kora comes out fast, hair wild, eyes scary. My stomach twists. I hold the aunty tighter.

"What's happening?" the uncle asks, stepping in front of us.

Miss Kora smiles, but it looks wrong. "She's being naughty," she says. "She misses her dad—he's a very busy man, he's currently out of the city."

I shake my head so hard it hurts. "No!" My voice breaks. "Papa said he's coming for me! He's coming right now!"

Miss Kora's face changes. She reaches for me. "Kaia, sweetheart—come on—"

I scream and hide my face in the aunty's coat. "No, Miss Kora, no! Let me go!"

The aunty steps back, shielding me, her voice firm now. "I think we should call someone."

Miss Kora's smile twitches. "That's not necessary—"

Kora's POV

This cheeky, fucking brat.

I can't believe she ran.

One second we're walking out of that disgusting bathroom, and the next she's bolting across the store like a goddamn rabbit, barreling straight into some random woman's arms like I'm the monster in her bedtime stories.

The couple's staring at me now.

And I see what they see.A woman in jeans and a wrinkled T-shirt, face cap pulled low, sweat on her neck, eyes wild.And the kid—the perfect little angel—crying and clinging to a stranger, running away from me.

And then, cherry on top—she calls me Miss Kora. Loud.

Fucking loud.

The lady looks at me, eyes astute now. "Are you the one she's calling Miss Kora?"

My lips stretch into something like a smile. It hurts my face.

I laugh. It's not sweet. But it buys time.

"Yeah," I say, lifting my hands like oops, kids right? "Yeah, I'm her babysitter."

Their suspicion doesn't go away. So I push harder.

"I—I mean, I'm kind of filling in. I help her dad. Her other dad, uh... he passed recently, cancer or something—terrible. She's still warming up to me, as you can see."

I try to keep the grin in place, but the woman's expression is flat. Her body's already angling away from me, holding Kaia tighter.

The man steps forward, one arm raised like he's ready to block me. "Babysitter, huh?"

Kaia's crying now.

Real tears. Loud ones.

And I know it's over.

Because the second she screamed "Miss Kora" I lost the thread.

And the second she said "Papa's coming," I knew he'd find us.

Still—still—I can fix this.

I just need her to shut up.I just need to get her back into the car.

"Kaia," I say through my teeth, keeping my voice sickly sweet. "Come here, baby, come on now, don't make a scene—"

But she turns her face away from me and buries herself deeper into the woman's coat.

The woman's eyes flick from me to the child clinging to her like her life depends on it. Kaia's still crying, face buried in the crook of her arm, but I can see her shaking.

She's five. She wants a dad. A home.

And a dead one, apparently.

I don't have time for this. I feel the clock ticking in my teeth.

I school my face, force the softness back into my voice. "Kaia, come on. Let's go home, baby. Your dada will be worried."

That makes her pause. Her tiny body stills, and she lifts her head just a little, peeking over the woman's arm. Her lashes are wet, and her cheeks are red, but her eyes... those big eyes are hopeful.

She whispers, "Promise? We're going home?"

I nod quickly, my voice trembling with rehearsed tenderness. "Of course, baby. We're going home. I'm sure your dada would love to see you."

Her lower lip trembles. "And Papa?"

I hesitate—just for a beat—but I swallow it and smile.

"Of course, and Papa too."

To anyone else, it must sound like I'm humoring a child missing her dead father. Just trying to calm her down.She's five. She's hysterical. I'm just trying to manage the situation.

That's the picture I'm selling.

And I think they're buying it.

I reach for her slowly. "Come here, baby. Let's go home, alright? Dada's waiting."

The man turns to the woman, shrugging. I can see the hesitation slip into his body. He doesn't want to get involved. No one ever really does.

I almost sigh in relief.Almost.

But then the woman looks down at Kaia, her eyes softer now, more focused. She drops Kaia and crouches slightly, brushing hair out of Kaia's tear-streaked face.

"Do you want to go with her, sweetheart?" she asks gently. "Or should we call your dada to come and get you?"

No.

I shake my head too quickly. "No, no, that's really not necessary. He's a very busy man. That's why I'm the one babysitting. We'd just be disturbing him."

The woman's eyes narrow. Just a little.She's not sure anymore.

And then her partner says the fatal words.

"Just let the kid go. It's none of our business."

I want to scream at him to shut the fuck up, but I school my face. I reach again.

Kaia's wavering. She's not running anymore.

And then...

I hear it.

The low, thunderous growl. Multiple engines. Tires grinding into pavement with brutal purpose.

My blood freezes.

I don't have to look. I know.

He's here.

Phayu's POV

We almost drive past it.Old gas station. Flickering light. A tired building like a thousand others.

Because we didn't think they would stay there this long.

But then I see her.

Small figure. Glittery shoes. A woman crouched down beside her.There are a million kids in Thailand. But there's only one Kaia.

I feel it in my chest—like my heart fucking knows.

"Stop the car."

We pull in fast, gravel crunching under tires. I see them clearly now.Kaia.The woman beside her.A man a few feet off.

And Kora.

Fucking Kora.

She turns.And I watch her face twist.

I see the exact second she realizes she's fucked.

I'm out of the car before it even stops moving.Doors slam.My men are out behind I and Rain in black, moving in like a wave—Win at my right, Saifah on my left, weapons drawn and faces carved from fury.

The woman crouched beside Kaia jumps up, her arms out protectively as she shifts between Kora and my team.

"What the fuck is going on? Who are you people?" she shouts, eyes darting to the guns.

I ignore her.

All I see is Kaia.My baby.

She peeks out from behind the woman, eyes wide and wet.

And then she sees us.

"Dada!! Papa!!" she screams, her voice shattering through the air as she tries to run to me.

And Kora grabs for her.

Big mistake.

"Don't even think about it."

Win's voice is low and calm, but his gun is already aimed, barrel a whisper away from the side of her skull.

Kora freezes.

Kaia breaks free, running—arms open, tears streaming, hair a mess, voice cracking—

And she's coming straight for me, for us.

Straight home.

She barrels straight into Rain's legs with a sob that breaks every bone in my body.

I drops to my knees instantly, arms around her with a raw, shaking breath. Kaia clutches his neck like she might disappear again if she lets go.

"I got you," my voice sounding raw, choke out. "We got you, baby. You're safe now."

Rain's sinking to the ground. His hands find her back, her cheeks, her hair—checking, feeling, making sure she's real, she's whole.

"Papa," Kaia cries into his shirt, "I tried to be brave—like a tiger, like Dada said—but I was so scared."

Rain presses kisses into her hair like prayers, like apologies, like a hundred I'm sorrys he can't say.

"You were so brave," he whispers. "You were perfect. We're here now. We're here."

...

The three of them fold into each other on the rough concrete, father and father wrapped around daughter, the storm finally at bay.

Around them, the guns lower.The tension bleeds out of the air.And in that small patch of cracked asphalt under flickering light, a family comes back together.

...

Rain's POV

My princess.

My heart.My entire world.

I hold her like I'll never let her go again. Her face is buried in my neck, her tears warm against my skin, her tiny hands clutching my shirt like it's the only thing anchoring her to me.

And I cry too.

I can't help it. I don't care who sees.

Phi's beside us, kissing the top of her head, then my temple, then Kaia's cheek again like he can't decide who he needs to touch more. His breath is shaking. His voice, when he whispers to her— "You're home now, baby"—nearly breaks me all over again.

Since this morning — since the second I realized she was gone—I haven't been able to breathe.

But now...now she's here.

Her weight in my arms. Her little sobs softening. Her heartbeat pressed to mine.

I can finally fucking breathe.

I stand, Kaia still wrapped around me like a baby koala, and Phi does too. One of his hands never leaves her back.

Behind us, Saifah and Win have Kora restrained. Her wrists are cuffed, her hair a mess, her face blotchy with desperation. She's screaming now—ugly, hoarse curses, kicking at the dirt.

I watch Phi move.

He walks over to her slowly, steps even, unhurried. That kind of walk that always makes men piss themselves before he even speaks.

He crouches, eye to eye with her.

Her voice softens instantly, pleading now.

"Phayu, you don't understand," she says, smiling through tears. "I'm trying to make you see. We belong together. Me, you, and Kaia. I did everything for you. For us. Do you know what I gave up to get here? I love you. I love Kaia."

Every word she says is a landmine, a sickness, a delusion dressed up like devotion.Words meant to crawl under our skin.Meant to make me question.Meant to make me doubt.

But I don't.Because I have Kaia in my arms.I have her warmth. Her tears. Her breath.

And she is the only thing in this universe that matters.

I watch Phi's face as she speaks.He's quiet.

And then...

He smiles.

That smile.The dead one. The empty one.The smile that's broken men before they ever hit the floor.

And for the first time since Kaia disappeared, I smile too.

Because it's over.

And the only thing left now...is the consequence.

Phayu's POV

I look at Kora.Really look.

She's unraveling—spit at the corners of her mouth, wrists bound, hair wild, the smell of fear already leaking out of her skin. She's panting like some cornered animal, eyes flicking from me to Rain to Kaia and back to me.

And I smile.

Because the hell I've prepared for her...

Is worse than anything me, my husband, or my daughter endured today.

I tilt my head just slightly, that smile still on my face, dead and patient.The kind of smile that means you're already buried.

"You fucked with the wrong man," I say quietly, and her breath hitches.

"You could have come for me directly," I go on, still crouched, still calm. "And I would've killed you easily. Quick. Clean. I've done it before. To worse than you."

Her eyes widen. She starts shaking her head. "I—Phayu, no, please, I just—"

"But you didn't come for me," I cut in, voice low and lethal. "You went for my daughter."

I lean in.Close enough for her to see every lie die behind my eyes.

"You made my husband cry."

She opens her mouth, but nothing comes out.

"You cannot begin to imagine what I've got planned for you."

I stand slowly, rolling my shoulders back. Every moment Kaia was gone—every minute Rain was sobbing in silence, every time I had to hold him while he broke—I had time to think.

I'm not rushing your punishment, Kora.I'm going to design it.Frame by frame.Whisper by whisper.And you'll thank me before the end.

I turn away from her like she's already dead.

Kaia is still in Rain's arms. Her sobs have slowed, her eyes fluttering in exhaustion. Rain kisses her forehead, murmuring against her temple. I slide a hand down Rain's back, grounding him, grounding me.

Then I look up...To the woman and man standing near the pumps, still watching us, stunned.

The woman steps forward. She's the one who caught Kaia when she ran.

"She said she was her babysitter," the woman says, voice cautious. "And... your girl didn't look like she wanted to go with her."

I nod once. Just enough.

"You protected her," I say. "That counts."

She doesn't smile. Just swallows and takes the man's hand.They know what they saw.They just don't know the half of what it meant.

But that's fine.

Because Kaia is safe.Rain is whole again.And Kora?

Kora belongs to me now.

Win's POV

I watch the bitch thrash in her cuffs, wrists red, face streaked with sweat and madness. She's spitting everything from love confessions to curses, still caught in some fantasy where any of this ends well for her.

"I did it for love," she screams, jerking forward before one of our men slams her back down."She's mine, you're mine Phayu—mine!"

Delusional. Absolutely fucking gone.

Phayu doesn't say anything. He doesn't even look back.He's leading Rain and Kaia to one of the cars, Kaia wrapped up tight in her Papa's arms, Rain kissing her hair like he's trying to press all his soul into her skin.

Kaia's cheeks are stained with tears. Her little arms are limp around Rain's neck, but her eyes...Her eyes are on Phayu.Always.Still watching him like he's the sun.

He opens the door, guides them in. Then he looks up.

Nods.To me.To Saifah.

And we nod back.

He's taking his family home.

We'll deal with the trash.

I turn back to Kora. She's on her ass now, gasping, mascara leaking down her face like ink bleeding through rotted paper.

I was there when Phayu and Rain found out they were having a baby.I remember the way Phayu stared at that sonogram like it was a battle map, like he already had strategies to keep her safe from the world.I remember Rain whispering Kaia's name before she was even born.

And I was there when they had her.

Tiny, soft, loud as hell from her first breath.

I've watched her grow from that wailing newborn into this sharp, clever, glitter-loving whirlwind who wraps her uncles around her finger with a single pout.

She's not just Phayu and Rain's baby.She's ours.

Mine.Saifah's.The entire family's.

Even when Rain put his foot down—no guns, no knives, no tactics, no training—I still snuck her lessons in.

So did Saifah.

While she was learning her ABCs, we were teaching her how to scream at the right time.How to make herself small.How to bite when someone gets too close.Because that's what you do when you love something this much.

And this bitch tried to take her.

She didn't just fuck with Phayu.She fucked with all of us.

Me.Saifah.Rain.

And Kaia's Granpapa.

Arm.

The man who once ruled the underworld without ever raising his voice.A literal, lethal former assassin who still trains with a weighted blade every Sunday morning before breakfast.

This bitch has no idea what's coming.

She thought she was stealing a child.She declared war on a dynasty.

I roll my shoulders, take a step forward, and crack my neck.

"Let's take her," I murmur to Saifah, who's already smirking."She's got a date with Granpapa."

Rain's POV

Phi drives in the front, hands steady on the wheel, but I see it...The way his eyes flick to the rearview every few seconds, checking on us like if he blinks too long, she might disappear again.

I'm in the backseat, Kaia wrapped around me like she never left.And I don't stop touching her.

Kissing her cheeks.Her forehead.The top of her head.Her tiny knuckles.I can't stop.

It's one thing to lose your child.It's another to get her back and realize you now have to live with the trauma that came with it.

My sweet baby.So brave. So smart.And all for what?

Because some delusional woman thought love gave her the right to steal what we built?

Kaia blinks up at me, her eyes still red but her face calmer now. She reaches up with one small hand and wipes my cheek with her sleeve.

"Don't cry, Papa," she whispers. "I'm here now."

I nod, the breath catching in my throat.I kiss her again—her nose this time. Her brow.

"You were so strong, baby," I murmur, voice shaking. "So, so smart. I and Dada... we're never letting you go again."

She nods, serious. "I know. You always come, Papa."

And my heart stutters.Because yes.We always will.

The gates of our compound come into view. Familiar. Safe. Ours.

Phi slows as we approach the courtyard, and I see them...

My dad and Papa, standing side by side.

Pai and Sky just behind, anxious and still in the clothes they came in to help with.

It had been a battle getting Papa to stay behind, to keep him from joining the manhunt with a knife under his coat. But he stayed. He kept his eyes on the screens. His hands on the map.

The moment the car stops and Phi cuts the engine, the doors fly open.

Papa doesn't wait.

He grabs Kaia from my arms, pressing her to his chest with a noise that sounds half like a sob and half like a growl.

"My baby girl," he whispers, kissing her hair, her cheeks, her nose. "My little sunshine. My light."

Then my dad's there, smoothing her curls, pressing a firm kiss to her forehead, whispering words in soft Thai. Sky wraps his arms around all three of them briefly, eyes glassy.

Pai lifts her high and spins her, and Kaia lets out a giggle—pure, sweet, bright.

That sound.

That sound clears something inside me.It lightens the tight knot I've been carrying all day.

Phi slides up behind me, his arms looping around my waist.I lean back into him, our chests rising and falling in sync.

We just stand there, watching them love her.Watching her laugh again.Watching her feel safe again.

And I let myself breathe.

Because she's home.Because she's alive.Because we came for her.

And we always will.

Pai and Sky leave just before midnight—Sky promising to return tomorrow morning with a box of Kaia's favorite pastries, and Pai crouching beside her to whisper something that makes her giggle.

"I owe you a trip to Disneyland, princess. Anywhere in the world. Name it."

She lights up, nods, yawns, and nestles closer into Papa's chest.

It's a hassle getting my dads to go.

Papa insists on staying the night—he wants to hold her, keep her close. He's already inspecting the windows like he'll sit watch, a knife tucked into his waistband.Dad stands behind him, hand on his shoulder, silently supporting.

But I step in gently, wrapping my arms around Papa.

"We need time with her," I murmur. "Just us. You can come back in the morning. Please."

He exhales, reluctant. Presses another kiss to Kaia's forehead. "If you need anything—anything—you call me."

"I know," I nod. "Always."

They leave eventually, shadows retreating into the night, our security locking down behind them.

The house falls quiet.

And Kaia—Kaia finally lets go.

She fell asleep in phi's arms while we were still in the sitting room, exhaustion winning out over everything else.

Afterwards, I carried her upstairs and bathed her gently.She murmured through the whole thing, half-awake, thumb in her mouth.When I dressed her in fresh pajamas and tucked her into bed, she didn't even stir.

Now...She's sleeping.

Between me and Phi.

In our bed.

Her tiny chest rising and falling slow and even, her lashes casting soft shadows on her cheeks. One hand curled into a loose fist near her chin. The other resting over Phi's chest, like she knows. Like she remembers who brought her home.

I lie on my side, just watching her breathe.

Watching her exist.

The silence is the loudest thing in the room. Not heavy. Not painful.

Just... full.

Phi hasn't said anything either. He's lying on his back, one hand behind his head, the other resting gently against her stomach. Protective even while she sleep.

I reach across Kaia's sleeping form and lace my fingers with his.

And for the first time in what feels like forever, the fear is quiet.

She's safe.

Kaia's soft breaths fill the silence between us, steady and small. She sleeps like nothing ever happened. Like her world wasn't ripped apart and stitched back together in the space of a day.

I lie on my side, watching her. My fingers still loosely tangled with Phi's across her little belly.

He's quiet. He hasn't moved in a while. But I know he's not asleep.

So I speak first.

"I keep thinking about what would've happened if we hadn't answered that call in time."

His fingers twitch in mine.

"I keep thinking... what if Win hadn't taught her how to use that phone? What if Saifah hadn't traced it fast enough? What if she froze instead of speaking?"

Phi doesn't answer, but the weight of his breathing shifts.

"She's five," I whisper. "Five. And she knew how to stay quiet. How to lie. How to survive."

He turns his head finally, and our eyes meet across the crown of our sleeping daughter.

"She shouldn't have had to," I say. My voice breaks. "She shouldn't have had to be brave like that."

Phi watches me for a long time. His hand moves slowly, brushing Kaia's curls back from her face before settling on her blanket again.

"She did it because of you," he says quietly. "Because she's yours. You raised her to be kind, but strong. Gentle, but clever. You made her soft without making her weak."

I blink, tears threatening again. "You wanted to train her," I say bitterly. "You wanted the tracker. The escape drills. The blades. I said no."

Phi shakes his head once. "You wanted to protect her childhood. That's not wrong, Rain."

"But it almost cost us everything."

There's a long silence after that. Kaia stirs slightly between us, her tiny body rolling closer into Phi's side. He pulls the blanket up gently and presses a kiss to her temple.

"She's okay now," he murmurs.

"Is she?" I whisper. "How do we know this doesn't stay with her? That she doesn't carry this forever?"

He doesn't try to answer that.

Because there's no answer.

I swallow hard. "I should've let you teach her more."

"And I should've fought harder to do it anyway," he replies. "We both made choices, Rain. But the only thing that matters now is that she's safe. She's here."

I nod slowly.

Phi turns fully onto his side now, facing me.

"We'll raise her better," he says. "We'll raise her safer."

"She's not just our daughter," I say, a quiet laugh through my tears. "She's the family's baby. Did you see Papa? I thought he'd throw hands with the security team just to sleep at the door."

Phi smiles faintly.

We both go quiet again. Watching her. Listening to the little sounds she makes in her sleep.

I press my forehead lightly to Phi's, across Kaia's sleeping body.

"She's our everything."

"She always was," he replies.

And we lie there in silence, three heartbeats close enough to become one.

Phayu's POV

Rain eventually falls asleep.

His arms curled tight around Kaia, her face pressed to his chest, their breaths syncing soft and slow. She stirs now and then, little sighs or mumbles, but never fully wakes. And Rain...he doesn't let go of her. Not even for a second.

I watch them.

The covers shift with every rise and fall of their bodies, and the room is warm with the kind of peace that feels fragile, like if I blink wrong, it'll all vanish again.

But I don't sleep.

I can't.

My mind's racing—spinning through every detail of today like some cracked record stuck on all the worst parts.

If she hadn't called.If we hadn't traced it in time.If Kaia hadn't been smart enough.If that couple hadn't listened.

If one single piece had fallen out of place—She wouldn't be here.

And I know what that would have done to me.What it would've done to Rain.To us.

I close my eyes briefly and exhale, slow and deep.Then I lean forward, pressing a kiss to Rain's temple. Another to Kaia's soft curls.

My entire world.

This—This is why I kill.Why I build.Why I fight.

I slip out of bed, quietly. Pull on a black tee, cargo pants, boots. No sound.

A soft ping on my phone flashes an alert from Win. One word:Ready.

I make my way through the house, past the quiet rooms and shadowed halls, down to the lower wing. Past the reinforced door. Into the room.

She's here.

To my surprise—Papa's already there.Standing in the corner like a ghost carved from blood. Arms folded. Eyes cold.

Win is leaning against the wall, silent but dangerous. Saifah sits on the metal table, legs spread, gaze burning through her.

Kora.

Looks. Bad.

Face swollen. Lip split. One eye closed. Skin mottled with bruises.But alive.Not by accident.Not for mercy.

She's conscious, trembling, wrists bound to the steel chair.The stench of fear clings to her now. Not obsession. Not delusion. Just fear.

I step in.The air shifts.

No one says anything.

But they all straighten.

Because I'm not alone in this.It's not just me and Rain she has to answer to.

She stole Kaia.

And every single man in this room...

My twin, Saifah, who's trained Kaia to braid his hair and throw a punch.My brother-in-arms, Win, who taught her how to hide and scream.And her grandfather.Papa.

Arm.The ghost of the underworld. The man they still whisper about in back rooms.

Every man here would lay down his life for my daughter.

She didn't just make a mistake.She signed her own sentence.

I walk forward slowly. Kora lifts her head, just barely.

And I look her in the eye.

"You touched something that doesn't belong to you," I say calmly. "You thought this was a love story. But it's war."