All Chapters of Wheels of Fate (MM): Chapter 111 - Chapter 118

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 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

Pakin’s P.O.VThe first thing I became aware of wasn't the light, but the sound.Usually, the palace mornings were characterized by a sterile, curated silence, broken only by the distant, rhythmic footsteps of the Royal Guard. But today, the air itself seemed to vibrate. Even through the heavy, sound-dampening mahogany doors of my bedroom, I could hear the distant roar—a low, humming drone that sounded like a swarm of insects.I shifted under my sheets, the memory of Sean’s voice from the night before still echoing in my mind. ‘I’ll make everything alright’. I clung to that promise like a lifeline as I slowly opened my eyes.The sunlight filtered through the sheer gold curtains, casting a pale, ethereal glow over the room. I expected to see the usual stony-faced palace attendants, the ones who treated me like a piece of fragile porcelain that they were tasked with dusting but never touching. In

Pakin’s P.O.VThe silence that descended upon the ballroom was not the polite, curated hush of the nobility; it was a vacuum. It was the sound of a thousand breaths being held simultaneously, a collective gasp that seemed to suck the very oxygen out of the room.I felt as though the floor had vanished beneath my feet. I was floating, suspended in a moment of pure, unadulterated shock. There he was. Sean. The man who had been my sanctuary in the grease-stained chaos of the garage, the man who had held me through my panic attacks and kissed me with a hunger that made the rest of the world fade away, was standing in the heart of the palace. And he wasn't just here—he was wearing the emblem of the Phongsawat household.Even my father, the King, who had stepped forward with his usual practiced poise to greet General Phongsawat and initiate the formalities of the engagement announcement, froze.His eyes, usually sharp and calculatin