Bangkok G Story Novels & Stories

Only Damien remained serious, casting Kael a glance as if to ask silently: Are you ready? Kael rose at last, his towering figure casting a shadow in the aisle. His expression gave nothing away, but inside, his wolf growled restlessly. *** The air outside hit him like a wall...humid, warm, and thick with the smell of frangipani blossoms and street food. Motorcycles zipped down the roads, neon signs blinked in Thai characters, and voices rose in a dozen accents. Bangkok was alive, colorful, loud, but Kael hardly noticed. His world was a singular path that led straight to Elias.

I can determine that they have this whole area covered. "And you are lucky to control the docks of Bangkok Mr. Valdez, I thank you for your generosity in letting us in here." His smile widened, flattery is always a good way when you don't want a fight. "You can stay for as long as you want Mr. Brussels, there's a lot to do in Bangkok. This City never sleeps, we have beautiful women and unlimited liquors."

The engine sputtered, then roared to life, a primal, mechanical sound in the stillness. "Get on!" Chalida jumped onto the back, gripping Pim’s waist as they tore out of the basement and into the narrow, unlit alleyways of Bangkok. For the first time in their lives, there was no GPS guidance. There were no algorithms predicting the path of least resistance. There was only the map in their heads and the instinctual pull of the dark, winding streets. Three days later. The remote province of Kanchanaburi.

Ming's POV The caller ID made my blood turn to ice: Bew - Favorite Cousin with a photo of a grinning boy making peace signs. Of all the times for him to call... "I have to take this," I told Kamon, my voice shaky. "Ming, we're not done talking—" "Hello?" I answered the phone, turning slightly away from Kamon. "MING!" Bew's voice was so loud that I had to hold the phone away from my ear. "Guess what? I'm in Bangkok!"

How did you get so far away from home? He saw her struggle to find the right words, perhaps to decide how much to tell. "My mother not Thai. My mother Cambodia, small village, northern part. Soldiers come to her village, kill almost everyone, burn houses. My mother run with two daughter, reach Thai border. Go to Bangkok, Patpong. You know?" "Yes, I know. I know Patpong very well – or at least I once did." "Go to Carte Blanche Club, Patpong Two. Work there, five years. But now only one daughter."