Part 20 (M)

Ira dove into Tawan's kiss and drowned.

Her lips were hard, insistent, and desperate—and she held Ira so tight, so fiercely, that she couldn't breathe.

For a fleeting second, Ira wondered what had broken Tawan's control. What had pushed her across that carefully guarded line? Then Tawan kissed her deeper, rougher—demanding more—and Ira stopped thinking altogether. She clung to her, wrapping her arms around Tawan's neck, pulling her closer, needing her closer. Tawan was fire, and Ira was burning. Her mouth was hot, her tongue relentless, her body a solid wall of muscle against Ira's.

Tawan's hands roamed her back, gripping, kneading, setting off sparks that raced through her, pooling molten heat between her thighs.

Someone groaned. Maybe her. Maybe Tawan.

God. She wanted this. She wanted more.

Tawan's lips tore from hers, but only for a second. Her forehead pressed against Ira's, her breath ragged. Wild.

Someone groaned. It might have been her.

"Say it again. Say my name. My real name."

"Ira." Tawan's voice was low growl. She was lifted off the floor. Her legs wrapped around Tawan's waist on instinct, thighs tightening as she held on. Tawan let out a low, guttural growl as she pressed Ira against the wall. Family photos shook from the force, rattling with each gasp and moan.

Heat—raw, undeniable heat—pulsed between them.

Ira could feel every inch of Tawan's body against hers, the firm breasts, the sharp definition of her muscles, the sheer strength in the way she held her up so effortlessly. It was intoxicating. Overwhelming. She needed more. Now.

She dug her heels into Tawan's lower back, urging, demanding.

Tawan responded with a sound that was half snarl, half groan, then turned toward the bedroom.

"Please," Ira whispered against her ear, arching her hips against her. "Here. Right here."

Tawan barely hesitated, but then...

"Not enough."

Ira giggled as she was carried down the hall, but the sound turned into a breathless squeal when Tawan threw her onto the bed.

Then she froze.

Tawan didn't immediately follow. Had she changed her mind? Had that been a get-away-from-me toss instead of a I-need-you-now throw?

She looked up. The mask was gone.

There was no hesitation in Tawan's dark, heavy gaze, no more controlled restraint. Just heat. Hunger. Raw, unfiltered desire. And somewhere along the way, she'd lost her towel.

Ira's breath caught.

The moonlight kissed every hard line of Tawan's body, accentuating softness and muscle, turning her into something mythic.

Like a warrior. A goddess. Something unstoppable.

She wanted to burn this image into her brain—Tawan standing there, naked, unselfconscious, and absolutely breathtaking.

But instead of crawling on top of her like Ira expected, Tawan turned toward the door.

"Hey, where—"

"Shhh."

Ira barely had time to process before Tawan reached the door, shut it, and locked it.

Click.

"No more talking."

The way she said it—low, commanding, drenched in promise—sent a shiver racing down Ira's spine.

Then Tawan flicked off the lights. Darkness swallowed the room.

Ira barely had time to adjust before she felt rather than saw Tawan move. The shift of the mattress. The slide of bare skin over the sheets. The weight of her, straddling Ira's hips.

Then her hands—God, her hands—traced the front of Ira's shirt, caressing, kneading, shaping her body through the worn fabric.

Ira gasped at the feel of it—of being covered while Tawan was exposed, of the contrast between rough calloused fingers and soft cloth. The moonlight framed Tawan's silhouette as she hovered over her. A predator over her prey.

Ira shuddered.

She had never been the one left dressed while someone else was completely naked. Her bed partners always unwrapped her like a present, peeling away layers, stripping her down, gazing at her like she was a fantasy, an idol, something unattainable.

But Tawan didn't look at her like that.

She looked at Ira like she saw through it all—the performances, the spotlights, the fame—and wanted the woman underneath. She looked at her like she would devour her whole.

A sharp, desperate moan escaped Ira's lips.

Tawan kneaded her way down from Ira's breasts to the waistband of her panties, pulling the shirt this way and that as she went, dragging fabric across sensitive skin in a way that made Ira want to crawl out of herself and into Tawan.

She arched into her hands, pleading without words. And then—with one sharp, uncontrolled movement—

Tawan grabbed the edges of the shirt and ripped it open.

Buttons flew.

They pinged against the floor, the nightstand, the walls.

Ira sucked in a sharp breath as a rush of cold air teased her nipples, sending electric shivers racing through her body. She barely had time to react before Tawan's mouth crashed down on hers again, swallowing her gasp, devouring her whole.

Tawan's lips skimmed over Ira's breasts, featherlight yet searing, sending sparks down her spine. Then, with deliberate slowness, she plucked the pendant from Ira's chest, stroking it between her fingers.

Hesitation flickered in Tawan's dark eyes. A shadow of doubt. A reminder of things that didn't belong here, not tonight.

Ira's heart clenched. She should have taken it off. Before she could second-guess herself, she lifted Tawan's hand—pendant and all—to her lips and kissed it.

A slow, lingering kiss. A promise without words.

Tawan's breath hitched. Her gaze flicked to Ira's face, the hard lines of restraint softening into something achingly tender. Then, with reverence, she let the pendant drop gently to Ira's chest and cupped her face instead.

Ira wanted to tell her—I trust you. I need you. The rest of the world doesn't exist. But how could she say that without breaking the spell Instead, she turned her head into Tawan's palm and kissed it.

A chaste, innocent thing.

At first.

Then, with a flick of her tongue, she turned it into something else.

Tawan growled. A deep, primal sound that sent heat pooling low in Ira's stomach. Then Tawan's lips were back on hers, and all the reasons why and why not vanished. She kissed Ira like she was memorizing every inch of her. Like she was carving her into her soul.

Her scent—citrus, clean, something uniquely her—wrapped around Ira, drugging her senses.

Tawan's hands moved over her body, stroking, kneading, teasing, probing. Her touch was both possessive and worshipful, rough yet careful.

She was relentless.

Ira arched, moaned, gasped. Her brain dissolved, replaced by nothing but heat and need and sensation.

A slow smirk spread across Tawan's lips.

Ira tried to roll her eyes, but then Tawan's mouth was hot and hungry against her breast, tongue teasing, lips torturing, and the fire inside her roared. She lifted her hips, silently pleading for more.

Tawan shook her head, amused and in control, dragging this out just to watch her unravel. She kissed a slow, tormenting path down Ira's body—her lips, her throat, the soft dip between her breasts, the curve of her stomach.

Ira shuddered.

Blissful. Torturous. Intoxicating.

Tawan hovered over her hips, fingers dancing just on the edge of her panties, slipping beneath but never exactly where Ira needed her most.

A tease. A damn tease.

Ira let out a frustrated whimper, hips shifting, searching, desperate. Tawan watched her with dark, heated eyes as she finally slid her fingers inside, excruciatingly slow, stretching, curling, teasing.

Ira gasped, her fingers gripping Tawan's arms, nails digging into her back. She was right there—so close—but Tawan kept her teetering, kept her aching for just a little more.

When Ira shattered, she shattered completely.

She came with a cry, the world tilting, bursting into stars, pleasure crashing over her in waves so intense she forgot to breathe.

"Breathe," Tawan murmured against her ear, her voice thick with hunger.

Ira exhaled in a breathy, shaky laugh.

Tawan's hands traced a scorching path over her body, down her thighs, up her stomach, back to her breasts. The greedy, devouring light in her eyes sent heat pooling low again.

Ira didn't hesitate.

She shoved Tawan back onto the bed.

Hard. And then she pounced.

A flicker of fire lit in Tawan's eyes—surprise, hunger, raw, unchecked need. Ira slid her fingers into Tawan's center. And then, with a slow, delicious slide, she took her. Tawan groaned, head tipping back against the pillows, as her fingers entered Ira's wet entrance again.

Ira moved, rode her, lost herself in the storm, the heat, the rhythm of their bodies.

Every thrust, every roll, every grind pushed them both higher and higher, tighter and tighter, until—

Ira screamed her release. Tawan wasn't far behind.

With a shuddering moan, she came apart beneath Ira, tension unraveling, pleasure consuming.n For long, breathless moments, neither of them moved. Ira collapsed onto her, both of them slick with sweat, tangled in sheets and each other.

She pressed a soft, lingering kiss against Tawan's lips before rolling off her, breathless, sated, utterly undoAga They lay side by side, silent, panting, the house settling around them. For the first time in weeks, Ira felt light. Grounded. Free.

Maybe she was falling. Or maybe—just maybe—she had already fallen.

"Did that just happen?" Ira whispered.

She didn't dare look at Tawan. Not yet.

What if she saw regret in her eyes? She wasn't sure she could take it.

"I have pretty vivid dreams," she added, voice barely above a breath. "Are we awake?"

"Yes."

Tawan's voice was low, rough from exhaustion, but soft in a way that made Ira's heart stutter.

"And yes."

Ira sighed in relief. Her body felt like liquid, spent and sated, sleep already tugging at the edges of her mind.

"I was so tired when we got home," she murmured, eyes fluttering shut. "I thought maybe I hallucinated."

A low grunt.

She peered at Tawan through her lashes. "You too?"

Tawan's lips twitched. "Something like that."

The room was still dark, the faintest hints of morning stretching across the sky. Ira shifted onto her side to face her, watching the way shadows played across Tawan's features.

"What time is it?"

Tawan's hand lay warm and steady over hers, grounding her. "About five."

Ira groaned. "We have to be there by ten-thirty?"

Her laugh came out helpless, almost delirious. "Oh, that's bad. I'm going to be so tired. I'll be practically delusional."

"Shhh."

Tawan threaded their fingers together, caressing the back of Ira's hand with a slow, lazy rhythm that sent embers glowing beneath her skin all over again. Her tone was calm. Careful. Maybe even...rueful.

Like there was no avoiding the oncoming train of consequences.

Did she...regret this?

Ira's stomach clenched. She wanted to ask. Needed to ask.

Did this count as getting too close? Getting personal with a client? Would they pretend this had never happened? Would Tawan push her away? She couldn't ask. Not yet. The thought of breaking this fragile, perfect moment terrified her.

Tonight, for just a little while longer, she wanted to be a woman curled up in her partner's arms. Tomorrow...tomorrow would take care of itself.

Ira wiggled onto her other side and snuggled her back against Tawan's chest.

A breath. A pause.

Then, Tawan pulled the covers up and wrapped her arms around her.er Ira melted into her warmth. She felt...sheltered. Secure. Safe.

Tawan's lips brushed the top of her head. "Sleep."

The whisper against her hair sent warmth flooding through Ira's veins. She ran her fingers along Tawan's forearm, savoring the feel of her—solid, steady, there.

It felt so natural, so right.

Like this was something they'd always done. Something they always would do. Her voice was barely a breath.

"Will you be here when I wake up?"

Tawan kissed her hair, held her tighter.

"Yes."

Tawan woke to a face full of sunlight and a gut full of guilt.

Ira lay curled up next to her in what should have been an empty bed, her bare shoulder peeking above the covers. Her dark red hair was a mess of tousled waves, wild and perfect in a way that made Tawan's stomach clench.

Fuck.

Sleep deprivation and weeks of pent-up frustration had led to the worst decision of her professional career.

And the bitch of it all?

If she had to do it all over again...nothing would change. Hell, she wanted to go for many more rounds right now. Tawan exhaled sharply and shut her eyes against the temptation.

No personal relationships with a client, huh?

She was officially a hypocrite. A real do-as-I-say-not-as-I-did-last-night asshole. Carefully, she eased out of bed.

Ira made a soft, sleepy sound, her brows furrowing, but then she stilled as Tawan pulled the covers up around her shoulders. She watched Ira sleep.

It fascinated her.

Ira was always in motion, a force of nature who couldn't be contained. Yet here she was—utterly still, curled up against the pillow, her breathing slow and steady. What would it be like to wake up to this every day? To see this side of Ira—the soft, peaceful version that only appeared in sleep?

Tawan's chest tightened. This was a mistake.

A colossal, career-ending, what-the-hell-have-you-done mistake. Their game of pretend had fooled them both.

She could understand why Ira had gotten caught up in the fantasy—she chased what she wanted without hesitation, without fear.

But Tawan knew better.

This girlfriend-girlfriend act was just that—an act. A fantasy. A month-long daydream. It was time to wake up.

Ira looked like everything she never knew she wanted. And it physically ached to walk away. But she forced herself to slip out of bed and shut the door behind her.

Tawan grabbed a robe around her body and stalked back to her room, forcing herself to think.

Regroup. Reassess. Figure out next steps.

If someone on her team had done what she'd done, she'd have them reassigned without hesitation. The thought of letting anyone else take over Ira's security twisted something deep in her chest.

But her head told her heart to shut the hell up. She grabbed her phone to check security. The moment she saw the stream of texts, her pulse spiked.

The latest was from Lin, five minutes ago.

Lin: What the hell is up with you? Are you dead? This is a really bad time to ignore your phone.

Shit.

She scrolled up to the first message, sent at 4:16 a.m.

She hadn't heard the alerts.

Hadn't heard anything over the sound of Ira moaning her name.

Her stomach dropped as she read Wei's message.

Wei: This just popped on social media. 10k views and climbing fast. It might have reach.

A video link sat below.

Even in the blurry preview, she saw shelves.And a familiar figure in the background. The hashtags made her blood run cold. #KalasinTalentShow

#SmallTownBigTalent

#NextBigThing

She clicked the video.

The moment the voices started, Tawan stopped breathing.

Ira.

Singing.

Not in their safe house. Not by accident. In the Sevens storeroom.

And the lighting—damn it, even in the grainy footage, her dark red hair caught the glow just right.

Tawan's jaw clenched.

She lied. Ira had flat-out lied to her.

"Dammit." Tawan forced herself to watch all twenty-nine seconds. Ira's voice was unmistakable, and her red hair glowed, even in the low light of the storeroom. Was she recognizable as the internationally famous pop star?

Even without the blonde hair, it would be idiotic to believe that a true Ira Suwannathat fan wouldn't recognize that voice. Her rabid fans would see through the dark hair and bare face to the truth after the first five notes.

Tawan's gaze flicked to the account that had just blown their cover.

KenDahl.

As in Ken "the Doll" Sakda. The damn bartender. The post was already viral.

Thousands of comments, likes, and look-at-me shares. And it was only eight in the morning. What would happen once the rest of the world woke up? Tawan scrolled through the messages she should have seen hours ago, her mood darkening with every line.

Lin — That her? Where r they?

Wei — Voice recognition says yes, although not everyone has access to that kind of software. The hashtag popped my alert.

Lin — Nobody caught on yet, right?

Wei — Not that I can tell, although if the stalker stays true to pattern, he will most likely probe for more information when he sees this. My best guess is he hasn't discovered it yet because the hashtag means nothing to him.

Lin — Maybe will tank around the 10k mark. That happens.

Tawan? Weigh in?

Lin — Tawan? You there? Where the hell is she?

Wei — Her phone pings at her home address.

Lin — K. Might be sleeping. Keep an eye on this, Wei. Getting in shower.

The next text had come in at 4:45 AM, just after she'd drifted off to sleep with Ira in her arms.

Like a damn fool. Like a woman with her girlfriend.

Not a bodyguard with her protectee. Her jaw clenched as she kept reading.

Wei — 250k views and climbing. This is problematic:

"That girl sounds familiar. I know that voice. Anybody know who that is?"

Lin — No names yet?

Wei — So far, no.

Lin — Tawan check in?

Wei — No. Her phone remains stationary.

Lin — Keep an eye on it. Getting dressed. Have a feeling will be on the move soon. Sorry, Wei. No sleep for the wicked.

Which means Tawan should be awake.

Wei — There's no sleep for the gamer with an all-night raid in progress either.

Lin — Hah.

It had only taken two more hours for the problematic comment to escalate into a full-blown disaster.

Wei — 730k views and climbing. I think the cat is out of the proverbial bag.

Comment: "Chick sounds like Ira Suwannathat. Any IraStans verify?"

Lin — That's bad. Very bad. Tawan? You up?

Wei — Her phone hasn't moved. She may be in a deep sleep cycle.

Lin — She's was Special Forces. They don't sleep. They get the hell out of bed before the sun.

Wei — What else could it be?

Lin — Don't get me started on what else it could be.

Wei — Maybe she took a morning run? She does like to start the day active, and early morning exercise is optimal for digestion.

Lin — She doesn't run without her phone. Keep pinging her. If she doesn't answer in thirty, get the cops to go knock on the damn door. I'm getting Nene and heading to Kalasin.

Tawan swore and tapped out a text.

No cops.

Before she could hit send, an incoming text shook her phone while a baby's scream filled the silence.

Tawan winced and hastily pushed the Volume Down button. How the hell had she slept through that?

It was the most obnoxious noise she'd ever heard, and that was saying something considering Military training.

Wei — Officially viral. Over 1.5 million views and climbing.

KenDahl: "That's not Ira Suwannathat. That's Earn Phongphiphat, one of the waitresses at Sevens in beautiful downtown Kalasin."

Ira4Life: "You blind? That ain't no dive rat. I know that voice. That's Ira Fckng Suwannathat."

"Fuck!"

The word exploded out of Tawan as she kicked the metal trash can next to her desk.

It clanged off the leg of the desk and clattered to a stop under the bed.

Pain radiated up her foot. She deserved it.

If she'd slept in her own damn room, she'd have known about this hours ago. If she'd stayed in her own damn bed, she and Ira would be long gone by now. If she'd kept her hands to herself, instead of losing herself with Ira, her brain wouldn't be mush, and she wouldn't be in this clusterfuck of a situation. Odds were high that the stalker had seen the video by now.

He'd have an alert set to any variation of Ira Suwannathat that he could think of because the guy was tech-savvy and obsessive. Tawan's gut told her the stalker was already on the move.

Heading for Kalasin. Even if he wasn't, they had to assume he was. Because of her.

Because she'd paid more attention to Ira's smile and her own damn weakness than the job she was supposed to be doing. It was the one and only time she'd ever let herself slip like this.

And it had put Ira in danger. It was a rookie mistake. One that could get her killed.

With short, sharp jabs, she punched up an audio-only conference call with Lin and Wei.

Lin picked up first. "What the hell have you been doing?"

"Later." Tawan could hear road noise in the background. "Where are you?"

"On the way to you. I have Nene."

"Good." Tawan's voice was clipped. "Speaker?"

"Earbuds. What the hell happened? I was about to send a wellness check."

"Not relevant."

She jerked open the top drawer of her dresser, yanked out clothes, and threw them onto the bed.

"What's not relevant?" Wei joined the call.

"Sit rep," Tawan barked as she pulled on her jeans.

"Secondary site's ready," Wei said. "All quiet here."

"Lin, how far?" Tawan snapped her holster into place.

"About an hour out, give or take," Lin said.

"Shave that."

"Oh, sure. We'll teleport right over."

Lin's sarcasm tweaked her last nerve, but Tawan let it pass.

Tawan unlocked the safe and checked her weapon, ensuring it was loaded before securing it in her holster. Her movements were sharp, controlled—but inside, her rage burned white-hot.

"Do what you can," she said, her voice cold with determination. "Here's where we stand. Ira is safe for now, but her cover and location are blown."

"I'm honestly shocked it held this long," Lin admitted. "I expected her to be on that stage with Mason last night."

"She's been surprisingly quiet, actually," Wei chimed in. "She hasn't been in any of the other videos posted from the festival."

"This was an accident. And more my fault than hers," Tawan cut in. "I let my guard down." She was the one who should have known better. On several levels. "That's on me."

"You can't control her every move, Tawan. You can't be everywhere at once," Lin said in that calm, reasonable tone that just made her feel worse. "You do have to sleep sometime."

Oh yeah. She'd slept, all right. Her fists curled at the memory. She barely resisted the urge to punch something. She couldn't change the past, and she shouldn't be taking her screwup out on the best damn team she had.

Focus. Work the problem.

Tawan took a slow breath and exhaled through her nose. "Good news is we have a little time if our guy was in Bangkok when he saw the video the same time we did. Let's see if we can use this fuck-up to our advantage."

"Use it how?" Lin asked, wary.

"We know where he's headed. We can be ready when he gets here."

"You can't know exactly what he'll do," Lin countered. "It's a major assumption that he was even in Bangkok."

"It's an educated guess." Tawan paused in her prep work to glare at the phone. "Unless you have a better idea?"

Lin let out a long sigh. "No. I agree he's been in information withdrawal for a month, and this is a nice, juicy fix. He'll jump on it, especially after the fake-out we tried. We're relocating her, right?"

"Yes." Tawan continued loading her utility belt with everything she might need. Two clips. Knife. Zip ties. "Wei, stay vigilant. She'll be coming in hot, and I don't want any surprises. Lin, you and Nene get here as fast as you can. Every second counts. Be aware our stalker is probably taking the fastest route here and may be ahead of you. I'll get set up on my end while we're waiting."

"Wait... what are you setting up?" Lin asked. "We're all bugging out, right?"

"Not this time," Tawan said, voice tight with grim determination as she pictured how it would play out. "You and Nene are going to relocate Ira. When you get to the secondary location, the three of you lock it down and keep her safe until you hear from me."

Lin's suspicion sharpened. "And what will you be doing while we're watching the paint peel?"

"Waiting for him."

Tawan pulled her tactical go-bag out of the closet and double-checked the contents. Rope. Duct tape. Foldable shovel. Water. Ration bars. Portable battery. It looked like the kind of kit a camper would put together.

Or a hunter.

Or a goddamn assassin.

Satisfied, she zipped it closed.

"Very Butch Sundance," Lin said, sarcasm laced with concern. "But you're missing your sidekick. You shouldn't face this guy alone. You're the one who taught me that the opponent doesn't have to be good. He just has to get lucky."

"I won't be alone."

Tawan ended the call. She'd Fucked Up. Now, She'd Fix It. What irritated her was that the stalker's luck had been a direct result of her failure. She'd let her guard down. Gotten comfortable. Now there was a neon trail leading straight to Ira.

They were blown. Exposed.

Because of her.

Tawan rubbed her face with both hands. Self-blame wouldn't get her anywhere. She had to compartmentalize.

Next steps. Focus on next steps.

She needed to call her father. She needed to arrange backup security for her family. For the restaurant. Hell, even for Ken, the damn bartender who had started this mess. Tawan typed out a quick text to Brick as she headed downstairs.

Tawan — Need a favor. Might be dangerous. You in?

Three dots appeared immediately.

Brick — Always. What's up?

Tawan — Can you take the day off?

Brick — Duh. I'm the boss.

Tawan — My place. ASAP.

Brick — cya in 15.

That would be just long enough to call her father and explain why Sevens needed to temporarily shut down operations in Kalasin and why her family needed to take a sudden vacation.

When Brick arrived, he had two cups of coffee in hand and a curious look on his face.

"Where's the body? I brought shovels."

Tawan's eyes flicked to his truck parked in the driveway. Sure enough, there were several shovels, a few rakes, a leaf blower, and an industrial-sized lawn mower.

She raised an eyebrow. "You're serious."

Brick handed her one of the cups as he stepped inside. "I got your back, unless you want to go zip-lining. You're on your own with that shit."

"You're still not over that heights thing?" Tawan led the way to the office. "You realize how ironic that is, right?"

"I don't have a heights thing." Brick flopped into the visitor's chair and stretched his legs out. His six-foot-six frame dominated the space the same way he'd dominated the Rugby field in his prime.

"I have a strong, perfectly rational desire to keep my feet on the ground. Height has nothing to do with it."

"Sure it doesn't." Tawan leaned against the desk. "Thanks for coming. I appreciate the assist."

"So what the hell is going on?" Brick's wary gaze fixated on Tawan's tactical belt and holster. "You know I don't do guns."

"No need," she said. "You're here for intimidation."

Some of the tension left his face. "That I can do."

Tawan took a sip of coffee and wished her problems could be so easily solved. She brought Brick up to speed in short, clipped sentences. When she was finished, Brick stared at her.

The silence stretched.

"You get all that?" Tawan prompted. "I know it's a lot to take in, but the background isn't relevant for what I need from you. You watch my six, I'll take care of the rest."

Brick held up a hand. "Wait a minute."

"What?"

"You really think you can dump info on me like that and I'll just breeze past it like a billboard on the expressway?"

"Yes." Tawan said it with finality.

"Oh hell no, captain." Brick leaned back and crossed his arms. "If you want me to cover your blind side, you can take a damn minute to explain how you started dating Ira Suwannathat."

Tawan dragged a hand down her face. Her father's reaction had echoed Brick's. He'd gone so far as to call her delusional before flatly refusing to close down the festival or leave town during the last day of the event.

"I'm not dating her," Tawan said.

"Yeah, you are." Brick's tone was dripping with sarcasm. "That's exactly what you're doing."

Tawan's jaw ached from clenching. Not only had she spent fifteen minutes arguing with her father about this, she'd had the same damn conversation with herself over the past few days.

"That's just our cover story."

"Bullshit, man." Brick waved a hand. "You brought her home to meet your family. You took her to the festival. You were staring into each other's eyes so hard up there on that damn balcony that I saw sparks, and I wasn't the only one who noticed."

Tawan flashed him a warning look. "We are not dating."

Brick raised an eyebrow. "So you're telling me you haven't kissed her?"

Heat crept into Tawan's cheeks.

"Yeah." A look of smug satisfaction spread across Brick's face. "That's what I thought."

Tawan gripped the side of the desk. "Back. Off."

Brick pointed an accusing finger at her. "You're in denial. I get it. It's new, and she's...damn, man. Ira Suwannathat. God, that's a trip and a half to say."

Tawan pushed off the desk and into her friend's personal space.

"As far as you're concerned, she's Earn. You can't tell anyone about this. I mean—anyone. Got me?"

Brick considered her. "Oh-kay."

"She's not a celebrity. She's not my girlfriend. She's my protectee. Her safety is all that matters. Period. Understand?"

Brick held up his hands in mock surrender. "Yeah, man. I get you."

"Good. Move your truck over to the neighbor's, would you? I'll be back in five."

Then, Tawan went upstairs to deal with last night's mistake.

Ira startled awake to bright sunligh t, rough hands, and a barked command.

"Up." Tawan sounded like she'd been trying and failing to wake her for a long time.

Ira blinked her eyes open and tried to focus. "Are we late? Shit. What time is it?"

"It's time to wake up." Tawan stalked over to the dresser and yanked open a drawer.

The urgency in her voice sent a spike of fear through Ira that didn't fit with the warmth of last night. Her thoughts were still wrapped up in Tawan's arms. Her dreams had revolved around another day at the festival, followed by another night tangled up in her. She took in the rigid set of Tawan's shoulders, the quick movements of her hands as she pulled clothes out of the drawer, the utility belt strapped around her waist, and—

The gun.

She was suddenly wide awake.

Ira sat up, tugging the covers with her. "What happened?" Her voice crackled. "Did you find the stalker?"

"No." The sharp edge in Tawan's voice made her flinch. "He found you."

Ira's hand instinctively found the panic button Tawan had given her. At first, she'd worn it because Tawan had insisted. Now, she wore it because it reminded her of her. A sick sense of dread twisted in her stomach. "How?"

Tawan tossed a bra and underwear on the bed near her feet. "Ken the Idiot recorded you and my brother and posted it for the world to hear. It's a small town, Khun Ira Suwannathat. There's always someone listening. I told you that. I warned you."

Ira winced as the memory of Ken walking down the hallway came back to her in vivid detail. "Oh. Shit. He was recording."

She regretted it the second the words were out of her mouth. Tawan froze on her way to the closet. "You knew someone heard you. You knew someone recorded you."

The look of utter betrayal on her face was familiar. Too familiar. Ira had seen it on her siblings' faces all those years ago.

"I...yes, but..."

"You lied to me." Tawan's voice was cold and controlled, but her eyes flashed with anger. "I trusted you, and you used it to manipulate me. Life's just a game for people like you."

Ira should get up. She should move. She should do something, but she couldn't make herself let go of the blankets.

"That's why Aunt Sunitha winked at you last night." Tawan rubbed her jaw. "You played me, and I fell for it. I have to hand it to you. That's a first."

"It wasn't like that." Ira's voice came out too high, full of panic. "I didn't—"

"Yes, Khun Suwannathat. You did." Tawan shook her head. "And I let you. I did exactly what I reamed Nene out for, which makes me a hypocrite as well as a fool."

She stalked the rest of the way to the closet. "This is why rule one exists in the first place."

"Tawan. I'm sorry. Let me explain. Please."

Tawan didn't look at her as she yanked open the closet and grabbed Ira's go bag.

"Don't bother." Her voice was sharp, clipped. "Done is done. You can't suck that video back off the internet. We have to focus on next steps. Time to relocate and regroup."

She tossed the bag onto the floor. Ira scrambled out of bed, tangling herself in the sheets. "Just...wait." Her throat was dry. "I sang harmony for one chorus. That's it."

"It's more than enough."

Ira dragged on the underwear. It was flimsy, a pathetic barrier, but at least she wasn't completely exposed. "It was only a few seconds."

"Try twenty-nine." Tawan emerged from the closet with a pair of jeans, her movements sharp, efficient, almost violent. "Twenty-nine seconds featuring an unknown waitress and world-famous pop star Ira Suwannathat."

She threw the jeans at her. "Congratulations. You've gone viral. Again."

Ira's cheeks burned with shame, regret, and something darker. She pulled the T-shirt over her head, struggling to find her voice. "I was just trying to help."

"If you were really trying to help, you would have told me."

Ira barely caught the jeans before they hit the floor. "I screwed up. I know I screwed up."

Tawan's gaze drilled through her like a bullet. "You didn't just screw up, Khun Suwannathat. Accidentally humming a few notes would be a screw-up. What you did went way beyond that. You lied to me about something that affects your safety. After everything—" She stopped, jaw clenched so tight the muscles jumped. "You knew better. You knew why it mattered, but you did it anyway."

Ira's breath hitched. "I made a mistake, and I'm sorry. I should have told you the second it happened, but I didn't because I didn't want this to end."

Tawan stiffened. "It was always going to end, Khun Suwannathat."

The words hit like a slap.

"It doesn't have to." Ira took a step toward her, reached for her, but Tawan was too far away. She dropped her hands. "This is exactly why I didn't tell you. Because I knew you'd react this way. I knew you'd make us go away and...I didn't want to go."

Tears burned behind her eyes, but she refused to let them fall.

"I like being here. I like living in Kalasin. I like being here with you. And last night..."

Tawan spun on her heel, eyes blazing. "Last night was a lapse in judgment. Nothing more."

It was like the lights coming up at the end of a show. The illusion shattered.

"No it wasn't." Ira's voice wobbled. "It was more than that. You know it was."

Desperation closed her throat. She'd finally found something—someone—she hadn't even known she was searching for. She hadn't expected it, hadn't planned for it, but she didn't want to lose it.

"Last night was... it was everything."

Tawan stood like a soldier, all rigid lines and harsh angles, her feet anchored in place.

"I'm not your friend, your lover, or your girlfriend, Khun Suwannathat. I'm here to keep you safe. That's it."

The words were cold, final. But then, just for a second, Tawan's gaze flicked to the wall. A look of anguish crossed her face so fast that Ira almost missed it.

"The price of failure is too damn high."

Ira followed her gaze—to the family shrine. The framed photo of Tawan's mother, the one missing the fourth photo that should have been there. Her heart twisted, even as a cold wave of fear crept up her spine.

"Your mother didn't die because of you, Tawan." Ira's voice was barely a whisper. "It wasn't your fault. You were just a teenager."

Tawan's entire body went still, then she turned toward the door. "Lin will be here soon. Pack up. You won't be coming back."

Ira wrapped her arms around herself. "No." Her voice was small, but steady. "I'm not supposed to go anywhere without you. That's my rule one. Remember?"

Tawan whipped around, eyes flashing. "If I have to throw you over my shoulder and carry you down those stairs, that's what I'll do. Get that through your head. I will keep you safe."

Ira lifted her chin, heart pounding. "I don't want to just be safe." She took a shaky breath. "I want to be safe with you."

Tawan's expression darkened. "And that's all that matters, right?"

"You always get what you want. No matter the consequences."

Ira recoiled as if she'd been slapped. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

Tawan stepped closer, jaw tight. "You have a pattern, Khun Suwannathat. An MO."

She ticked the list off on her fingers.

"You shouldn't have thrown a pool party, but you did."

"You shouldn't have been singing with Kai, but you did."

"You should have told me, but you didn't."

Each word was a hammer striking steel. Tawan's voice dropped lower. "You shouldn't have dumped your siblings, but you did."

Ira's stomach plummeted.

"Face the facts, Khun Suwannathat."

Tawan's eyes were hard, unreadable. "It's always about what you want, no matter what it costs everyone else."

The next words were razor-sharp.

"I won't be your next piece of collateral damage."

Then, she turned on her heel and strode out the door. It closed behind her with a soft, quiet click. Ira tried to take a breath. But Tawan had taken all the air with her. She wanted to scream, shout, fight back, tell her she was wrong. But Tawan wasn't wrong. And that made it hurt even more. Ira swallowed against the lump in her throat.

"Wait," she finally choked out.

Too late.

She could hear Tawan's footsteps fading down the hallway, each one pulling her further away.

It was always going to end. You shouldn't have dumped your siblings.

A sob ripped from Ira's throat. She slapped a hand over her mouth to muffle the sound, but it didn't stop the pain from shredding through her chest.

Last night...that first kiss...Tawan had wanted her. She knew it from the bruised ache of her lips, the heat still lingering on her skin, the way her body had melted into hers. She'd never felt so transported. So seen. Now the warden was back, the walls were up, and Ira had no one to blame but herself.

"Dammit." The word hissed through the empty room.

She should have told Tawan about Ken. She'd known it the second she saw him sauntering down the hallway with his phone in hand. She'd known it the second Kai had caught her singing. She'd known it and still kept her mouth shut. Because she'd wanted—needed—to keep being Earn, even just for a little longer. She'd convinced herself it didn't matter. And now it had cost her everything.

Tawan was right.

Ira betrayed Tawan's Trust. She'd hurt her. She'd manipulated her. She stared at the closed door, tears sliding down her face.

But Tawan wasn't right about everything.

Tawan had crossed her own damn line. She'd wanted Ira just as much, had kissed her like she couldn't breathe without her—and instead of admitting it, she was hiding behind her rules, her guilt, her damn past.

And that?

That was bullshit.

She'd finally found something real, and she wasn't letting it go without a fight. Ira snatched up her jeans, yanked them on, and stormed out of the room.

She found Tawan in the kitchen with Brick, standing at the island like it wasn't the end of the goddamn world.

"You fucking coward."

Both heads snapped toward her.

Brick's eyes went wide. "Oh, uh, hi, uh, Ira." He glanced from her to Tawan. "I'll just go, uh, check the perimeter. Yeah. And I'll take that tablet with me. You know, just in case I need it. Or you feel like throwing it."

Brick snatched the tablet out of Tawan's hands and bolted out the back door so fast Ira almost laughed.

If her heart weren't currently being ripped to shreds.

Tawan's gaze was cool, empty. "Where's your go-bag and shoes? Are you packed? Lin will be here in a few minutes."

"You might have a point about what I did. I mean, you do." Ira's bare feet slapped against the tile as she stalked toward Tawan. "I've made a lot of mistakes. I acted like a spoiled brat at that pool party. I should have told you about Ken. And it's going to take the rest of my life to make up for what I did to my siblings. But at least I own my mistakes, and I'm trying to fix them."

Tawan's jaw clenched so tight, Ira could see the muscle ripple along her face.

"Get your shoes on unless you want to go barefoot."

"I'm not letting you turn your back on me."

"You don't call the shots here, Khun Suwannathat."

"You've spent your life running toward danger and away from feelings, and that's exactly what you're doing right now." Ira jabbed her finger into Tawan's chest. "You think you know me, but you don't know everything. You don't even know everything about yourself. You have a massive blind spot, Warden. I know what running away from feelings looks like. It looks like a one-way ticket to Hong Kong. It looks like a woman who refuses to come home for birthdays and holidays. The second you start to care, you leave. That's your pattern. I know that because I know you, just like you know me. That's what makes this... us... real."

Tawan opened her mouth, then shut it.

Ira shoved her, hard. "It's not a crisis to actually care about someone. Feelings make life worth living. And you don't get to pretend last night doesn't matter because it does."

Tawan's expression turned glacial. "Here's the thing, Khun Suwannathat." Her voice was so distant, it might as well have come from another continent. "It really doesn't. The only thing I'm interested in is finding your stalker before he finds you. That's it. Nothing else."

A voice broke through the tension.

"Okay," Lin said in a high, overly cheery tone. "Sounds like things are going well here."

Tawan's eyes flicked past Ira. "Get her out of here. Take the back roads to the highway. The north side and downtown are blocked for the festival."

Ira didn't turn around. She knew Lin and Nene were standing there. She'd been so focused on ramming her words into Tawan's thick skull that she hadn't heard the door open.

But she wasn't done yet. Tawan wasn't going to get the last word.

"You'd rather face a bullet than admit that last night meant something to you. But that's okay, right? You're the mighty warden. You never let your guard down."

She huffed out a laugh—half fury, half raw pain.

"Well, I would. I love you. I love the way you looked after me even when you didn't want to. I love the way you make me feel safe. I love the way you watch me from across a crowded room, like nobody else exists. And I love you even when you're being an obnoxious, hypocritical ass and trying to push me away. But I guess none of that means anything to you since it's coming from a celebrity like me."

Silence.

She turned her back on Tawan and locked eyes with Lin and Nene.

Nene glared at Tawan with murder in her eyes, while Lin gave Ira a look that said, 'We're definitely drinking about this later.'

They'd overheard everything.

Ira didn't care.

The only opinion that mattered was the stone-cold woman behind her, and she wasn't saying a damn word. That silence hurt more than any rejection.

"Don't bother with the bag," Ira said as she walked out the door. "Nothing here belongs to me anyway."

Lin stepped aside without a word.

Nene gave Ira's shoulder a quick, reassuring pat. "Right behind you."

It didn't take long for them to pile into the car.

Lin slid into the driver's seat. Nene sat beside Ira in the back.

"Buckle up, Ira," Nene said, snapping her seatbelt into place.

Nene's voice was gentle, but dead serious.

Ira obeyed.

Lin pulled out of the driveway without a word.

Funny.

She'd never realized how full silence could be.

Maybe because she'd spent her whole life making sure it was never this quiet. Ira curled against the seat and stared out the window. The town scrolled past—the streets lined with lanterns, the banners advertising the final night of the festival, the people laughing like today was just another day. Like the world hadn't just cracked open inside her chest.

A tear slipped down her cheek. She ignored it.

A truck rolled by, covered in banners announcing the festival finale.

"There's supposed to be fireworks tonight," she said, voice hollow.

Nene squeezed her hand. "She's an ass."

"Yeah. He is."

She sniffed.

"She's right, though. I've been a real pain. To everybody. And I don't... I don't belong here. This was all just... it was a really good dream. That's all. Time to wake up. Like she said."

She caught Lin's eyes in the rearview mirror.

"In case I never told you..." Her voice trembled. "I liked what you did with my hair. I liked... being Earn."

"You can always be Earn." Lin's voice was matter-of-fact yet kind. "You can be whoever you want to be."

Ira barely heard her. A car zipped past in the opposite lane, full of people she thought she recognized. Some high school boys from the festival?

Her first table. Would they notice she was gone?

"This op won't last forever," Lin said, glancing left and right before turning onto the main road out of town. "When we get this guy and things blow over, try again with Tawan. She's not the woman she just pretended to be."

"Yes, she is." Ira rested her head back against the seat, staring at nothing. "She's not the type to fake anything."

She closed her eyes and tried hard not to picture the Kalasin Rice Ear Castle Festival, the rice stalls, the lanterns glowing at dusk, and Tawan's steady, protective presence beside her.

She was so tired. So very tired.

She curled in on herself, arms wrapped around her stomach.

"Maybe she's right," she murmured. "Maybe I wanted something real so badly, I couldn't see...what wasn't...it doesn't matter."

"Her loss," Nene muttered.

"No. It's mine," she whispered to the window.

She wanted to go home. She wanted to crawl into bed and stay there until her heart stopped aching.

Except...

She didn't have a home anymore. She'd sold her condo. But even if she hadn't, it wasn't what she pictured when she thought of home.

What she pictured was Kalasin.

Tawan's house.

This town had felt more like home than anywhere she'd ever lived.

"Brace!" Lin's shout came a heartbeat before—

Metal crunched.

Glass shattered.

Something slammed into the SUV, and the world spun.