LOGINPakin’s P.O.V
The Lux was a sensory overload the moment we stepped through the heavy velvet curtains. The air was thick with the scent of expensive cologne, sweet vape clouds, and the electric hum of a bassline that vibrated in the very marrow of my bones.
Neon strips of violet and gold sliced through the dimness, casting long, shimmering shadows across the crowded dance floor. It was the kind of place where the wealthy came to forget their titles and the
Pakin’s P.O.VThe silk sheets beneath me felt like cold water, slick and oppressive. My bed was an island of luxury—massive, ornate, and utterly lonely. I tossed and turned, the fabric rustling with a sound that seemed deafening in the oppressive silence of my bedroom.Every time I closed my eyes, I didn't see the darkness; I saw the flashing bulbs of a hundred cameras. I saw the sneering faces of the nobility, the tight-lipped judgment of the generals, and the predatory glint in the eyes of people like Nobleman Ratchasakun.Tomorrow was the Charity Ball. To the world, it would be a night of elegance, philanthropy, and the glittering announcement of P’Dew’s engagement. To me, it felt like a walk toward a gallows.I felt suffocated. The very air in the palace seemed to have thickened, turning into a heavy shroud that pressed against my chest, making it hard to breathe. I could already hear the whispers—the sha
Pakin’s P.O.VThe air in the grand living area was thick, heavy with the scent of aged sandalwood and the suffocating pressure of centuries of expectation. Looking down at the polished marble floor felt like I was wading through deep water, my heart hammering against my ribs like a trapped bird.My father, King Suriyatep, was here. Actually here, standing right in front of me. The confrontation I had been dreading all this time was finally happening.He stood by the tall, arched windows, his silhouette framed by the golden light of the waning afternoon. He didn't say anything immediately, and that silence—that absolute, crushing void of sound—was more terrifying than any shout.Beside me, P’Dew shifted slightly, his expression a mask of royal composure, though I could see the tension in the set of his jaw. My mother stood on my other side, her presence a quiet, comforting warmth, yet even she seemed diminished in the shadow of the King’s mood.As my father finally turned to face us, t
Sean’s P.O.VThe garage was a symphony of controlled chaos—the high-pitched whine of pneumatic drills, the heavy thud of tires being swapped, and the constant, rhythmic chatter of the mechanics. Usually, this was my sanctuary. The smell of grease, burnt rubber, and high-octane fuel acted like a sedative for my mind, focusing everything into a single point of intensity.But for the last week, the symphony had sounded like noise.I was leaning against the workbench, a wrench in my hand that I hadn't actually used in ten minutes. My eyes were glued to the screen of my phone, which was resting on a smudge-covered rag.I was waiting. Waiting for a vibration, a ping, a single word from Pakin.Every time the screen stayed dark, a knot of anxiety tightened in my chest. I knew he was trapped in that gilded cage, suffocating under the weight of protocol and his father’s shadow, but the distance felt like a physical wound.It didn't matter that he was only a few kilometers away in the palace; it
Pakin’s P.O.VThe first few hours back in the palace were a blur of sterile white corridors and the rhythmic, oppressive clicking of polished shoes on marble. The moment the heavy gates had closed behind me, the air seemed to thicken, turning into a viscous syrup that made every breath feel like a chore.I wasn't Pakin the racer anymore. I wasn't the man who had felt the wind whip against his face at two hundred kilometers per hour, or the man who had felt Sean’s calloused hand gripping mine in the dark.I was Prince Pakin, a disgraced ornament of the monarchy, and my life had suddenly become a series of checkboxes and timed intervals.I had forgotten how loud silence could be.The palace wasn't noisy. Quite the opposite, actually. Every hallway was immaculate, every servant moved with quiet efficiency, every guard stood as still as a statue. Nothing was out of place.Nothing was ever out of place.And som
Pakin’s P.O.VThe silence in the car was heavy, thick with a tension that had nothing to do with the adrenaline of the track and everything to do with the destination. The victory at Buriram still hummed in my veins, but it felt like a distant echo, drowned out by the looming shadow of the palace.Two weeks. We had two weeks until the next race, a brief respite that should have been a blessing. But the royal charity ball was only four days away. For most, a ball was a fairy tale; for me, it was a summons. It was the moment I had to stop being a racer, stop being a man who loved another man, and return to being a decorative piece of the monarchy’s carefully curated image.I stared out the window, watching the landscape shift from the raw, industrial edges of the city to the manicured, oppressive greenery of the royal outskirts."I don't want to go," I whispered, the words feeling small and fragile in the space between us.
Pakin’s P.O.VThe roar of the engines was a physical weight against my chest, a rhythmic, screaming vibration that drowned out everything but the adrenaline coursing through my veins. The Buriram International Circuit was a blur of grey asphalt and vivid green grass, the sun beating down on the track until the air shimmered with heat haze.Inside the cockpit, the smell of high-octane fuel and hot rubber was intoxicating, a scent that had become my sanctuary.I was in third place, my eyes locked onto the two cars ahead of me. In first was Sean, his car a streak of aggressive precision, slicing through the air with a confidence that always made my heart race for reasons that had nothing to do with the speed. Right on his tail, like a predator stalking its prey, was Talay.They were neck and neck, their cars dancing a dangerous ballet at two hundred kilometers per hour. Every time Sean shifted, Talay mirrored him. Every time Sean braked for a corner, Talay was there, practically breathin
Pakin’s P.O.VDon’t ask me how we got here because I have no fucking clue. I could not even remember when or how we stumbled into a random motel in the middle of the night. I did not drink a single sip of alcohol, but everything was a blur.I think I was high on lust.I don’t remember us getting a r
Pakin’s P.O.VMy heart was still pounding in my chest as I gripped the wheel of my Valkyrie, the echoes of the race still fresh in my mind and in the way I breathed deeply.After that performance, I should’ve stayed at the track to soak in the crowd’s awe, to let my ego bask in that glory and solidi
Sean’s P.O.VThe roar of engines filled the air, and with it, the feeling of contained chaos and adrenaline.The corners of my mouth curled upward with amusement as the guy with the curly dyed blonde hair, who looked to be no older than twenty-three, had his face draining of color faster than a fadi
Pakin’s P.O.V“That’s him, isn't it?” I narrowed my eyes at the silver 2020 Porsche 911 GT3 RS parked in the shadows of the stadium parking lot.“Chai.” One of my closest male friends, Tew, nodded in agreement. His gaze, too, was fixated on the luxury supercar. I couldn’t blame him; it was a pretty







