Part 3

Ira dangled her feet in the cool water of her sister Kate's serene villa pool just outside Bangkok and wished, for what felt like the millionth time this week, that she could be anywhere else.

This, Ira decided, must be one of the circles of hell.

A hell with lush tropical charm, a cascading waterfall, and stone steps that looked like they belonged in a luxury spa brochure. A hell that smelled like jasmine and frangipani from the gardens meticulously maintained by Kate's staff.

The high walls and dense greenery surrounding the villa created an illusion of peace and isolation. But for Ira, it was suffocating. Beyond those walls was the vibrant, chaotic life of Bangkok—the bustling streets, the food stalls, the nightlife—and she was cut off from it all.

The city might as well have been on another planet.

This villa was Kate's idea of paradise, but for Ira, it was a stark reminder of how different they were despite their shared upbringing. Kate thrived on calm, quiet solitude, while Ira craved the energy and connection of being around people. What was the point of a place like this if there was no one to share it with?

And no, the stoic, judgmental bodyguard now installed into her life didn't count.

She'd been stuck here with Tawan and the silent security team for seven long days. A week. It might as well have been a year.

She tried hard not to resent how everyone had conspired to make this decision for her. All of them insisted it was in her "best interests." They'd "discussed" it at length and decided Kate's villa was the safest place to hide her from her "stalker."

Her siblings had tried to sell it to her with big smiles and promises. "It'll be just like old times," they said. "We'll have so much fun!" And "We'll write new songs, watch your tour highlights, and do karaoke!"

At first, they weren't wrong. It was fun. The four of them had stayed up late, reminiscing about their childhood, laughing over tour bloopers, and messing around with ideas for a new song. For a moment, it felt like everything was okay in the world.

But then, reality set in.

Wisanu left for an event at one of their family businesses. Ying returned to her private island to focus on wedding preparations. And Kate, ever the caregiver, moved in with her boyfriend Phong to prepare for an upcoming charity gala they were hosting.

And Ira?

Ira went nowhere and did nothing.

She was alone now, trapped in what felt like a gilded cage with Tawan, whose watchful eyes and rigid posture reminded her every second that she wasn't free.

Ira had been handed a list of rules she was expected to follow: no internet, no phone, no leaving. Then she'd been left alone to spend every day with nothing but her own thoughts for company.

She didn't like her thoughts. At all. They spiraled into dark places she didn't even know existed, and one in particular kept rising up, taunting her, smacking her over and over again.

Everyone had things to do, places to go, and people to be with.

Everyone but her.

The emptiness in her chest felt so heavy it squeezed out all the air, leaving her gasping in silence. Her eyes burned, but she refused to let the tears fall.

Blinking rapidly, she turned her glare up at the brilliant blue sky. "I should have stayed in New York."

It was getting harder to drown out the little voices in her head—the ones she normally silenced with a whirlwind of activity: singing, laughing, working, and constantly being on the move.

What are you really doing with your life? the voices whispered. All you do is prance around on stage. What good is that to anyone?

And worse, the stalker's words from his letter kept stabbing at her, deeper than she cared to admit.

I see how alone you are. How sad. How desperately you long for something more.

He was wrong. Completely wrong. She didn't long for anything more. Her life was full of good things. She had friends. She had fans. She was never, ever alone.

Except...

"Oh, for crying out loud, this is ridiculous," Ira muttered. She kicked her feet in the water, stirring it into a frothy boil. "I'm not lonely. I'm not sad. And I don't need anything. I'm just...bored."

"Is everything all right, Ms. Suwannathat?" one of the security statues asked from near the hedge. He was one of the nicer ones, always offering her a small smile and a quick nod whenever he came on duty—at least, when the warden wasn't around to see it.

"It's fine. I'm fine." She exhaled slowly, drawing the words out in a long, exaggerated sigh. "Everything's fine."

The guard nodded and disappeared around the side of the house.

She was going to lose her mind if this quarantine didn't end soon.

Ira glanced over her shoulder toward the villa. Somewhere inside was the reason for her week of isolation: Tawan Liang, her personal warden and professional fun-killer.

Tawan wasn't what Ira had expected when she heard the words "personal security." She was striking, with a lean, athletic frame that was all wiry muscle and grace. Standing tall at about 5'6", she had a commanding presence that seemed to fill any space she walked into. Her dark, almond-shaped eyes were intense and piercing, framed by high cheekbones and a sharp jawline. Her long black hair was always pulled back in a sleek ponytail, emphasizing the elegant curve of her neck.

She looked like she belonged in a high-end action movie, her fitted suits tailored perfectly to showcase her broad shoulders and slim waist. The defined muscles of her arms and the way her movements were so controlled and deliberate gave her an aura of power that was impossible to ignore.

The first time Ira had seen her step out of the car that day, she'd been momentarily stunned. Tawan moved like a predator, quiet and self-assured, her gaze sharp and calculating. She had an air of effortless confidence that made it hard not to notice her, and Ira wasn't blind to how attractive she was. For a fleeting moment, Ira had thought that maybe having Tawan around wouldn't be so bad.

Then Tawan had opened her mouth.

Tawan's favorite word was no, and she said it with the kind of finality that made Ira's teeth clench.

Ira had promised her siblings she'd be "sensible" and "safe," just so they wouldn't worry.

What nobody had told her was that being "sensible" and "safe" apparently meant no human contact for weeks on end. If she'd known, she would have refused on principle.

It had been a week. Seven days of nothing happening. And the longer she stayed here, the clearer it became that nothing was going to happen.

"Enough of this," she muttered to the empty pool.

Standing abruptly, Ira stalked into the house, determination blazing in her eyes.

Ira found her warden, Tawan Liang, staring intently at her laptop in what used to be the formal living room of Kate's villa. Kate had transformed the space into a multi-purpose room for video calls, presentations, and occasional streaming.

The room was a mix of function and personality, with sleek monitors and recording equipment on one side and cozy, personal touches on the other. A wall of white shelves displayed books, awards, and a few framed photos of the Suwannathat siblings. A comfortable couch with decorative pillows sat in the corner, and Kate's favorite acoustic guitar rested casually against it, a nod to her creative side.

"I want to go out," Ira announced, her voice deliberately loud enough to startle.

Tawan didn't even blink. "You already did."

She flicked a hand at the monitors, where all six screens displayed live security feeds of the villa, including the pool where Ira had been sulking like a moody teenager.

Heat flushed Ira's skin as embarrassment prickled at her. "I don't mean the backyard. I mean out, as in where there are people. It doesn't have to be anything wild—just a walk around the neighborhood. Or a drive. Oh! Or ice cream! There's this amazing place nearby that makes it all fresh, in-house."

"No."

"No?" Ira stepped further into the room, planting her hands on her hips. "I'm not actually a prisoner, am I?"

Tawan's shoulders stiffened, but her dark eyes didn't leave the laptop. "This is a sanctuary, Ms. Suwannathat, not a prison. The sooner we find your stalker, the sooner you can return to your... life."

The judgment she'd layered into the word life was impossible to miss. Ira's annoyance deepened into full-blown irritation. She was allowed to question her own choices, but Tawan was not.

"I said I'd be reasonable, but this—this sitting here all day, all night, with nobody to talk to and nothing to do is not reasonable. I'm tired of being stuck here, alone, with nothing to do but watch TV and be ignored."

"If you're so bored," Tawan said evenly, "you can read a book, swim laps—if that suit is for more than just decoration—or write a song. Surely even pop stars have work to do?"

Ira bristled at the derision in her voice when she said pop stars. "I spent the past year working, traveling nonstop, performing to hundreds of thousands of people who actually like me. It takes a lot of real effort from a lot of real people—including me and my siblings—to pull off a tour like that. This is supposed to be my break. You get that, right? This is my vacation. And instead of helping Wisanu with business prep, or hanging out with Ying while she plans her wedding, I'm stuck here. With you."

She spat the word you with as much disdain as Tawan had given pop stars.

Tawan finally looked up, her expression as unimpressed as ever. "Your point?"

"I need people!" Ira threw her hands in the air. "I need to talk to someone. You know—interaction? Distraction? Connection?"

"I'm not your babysitter, Ms. Suwannathat. I'm your protection. I'm here to keep you safe, not entertained."

"Trust me, I'm not expecting entertainment from you. And there's nothing to keep me safe from. You know as well as I do that whoever wrote that letter has probably moved on by now. There's no reason to keep me in a cage."

Tawan glanced pointedly at all of Kate's state-of-the-art equipment lining the room. "This is hardly a cage, Ms. Suwannathat."

It was infuriating how she managed to convey her condescending tone without raising her voice or uttering a single outright insult.

"Why does he—whoever he is—get to live his life while I'm stuck here not living mine?" Ira shot back, her voice sharp with frustration.

Tawan leaned back slightly in her chair, her dark eyes studying Ira with unnerving calm. "You agreed to come here. You said—"

"I know what I said," Ira interrupted, her voice rising. "You don't have to keep reminding me. I don't break my promises. That's why I'm asking for permission to go out instead of just going. Behold, my cooperation."

"Cooperation involves not putting yourself in unnecessary danger just for a scoop of ice cream," Tawan replied, her tone cool and maddeningly reasonable.

Ira realized she'd crossed her arms at some point and forced herself to relax, injecting a more persuasive tone into her voice. "I just want to live my life. Is that too much to ask?"

"Living is the key," Tawan replied evenly.

Ira inhaled deeply, a theatrical stage breath meant to calm her rising temper. "Why did you even take this job? You hate my life so much I'm surprised you find it worth protecting."

Tawan's expression darkened, her sharp features hardening. "No woman deserves to be stalked."

Ira caught the deadly spark in Tawan's eyes and tilted her head, studying her. "I could almost believe you mean that."

"Believe what you want," Tawan said curtly, returning her focus to the laptop. "Stay on the property, Ms. Suwannathat. Please."

"Asshole." Ira muttered under her breath as she stormed out of the room. She doubted Tawan even noticed.

The anger-fueled adrenaline carried her down the hall, but it fizzled out quickly, leaving her feeling drained and hollow. She wandered aimlessly, pacing up and down the corridors, in and out of empty rooms, like a restless ghost too weary to even wail.

Why couldn't she enjoy being alone like her siblings?

On stage, she felt alive. She felt like herself. But she'd never realized just how much until she'd been stuck here, stripped of everything that made her who she was.

"This sucks," she muttered to the empty living room.

Through the windows, the pool sparkled invitingly in the sunlight.

She didn't feel like swimming. She didn't feel like pacing, or painting her nails, or watching TV.

With a resigned sigh, she gave up and took a long, scalding-hot shower. She lingered in the steam, going through the motions of dressing and drying her hair with agonizing slowness.

It wasn't like she had anything else to do.

Laughter greeted Ira when she emerged from the bedroom.

Actual laughter.

"What the hell?" she muttered, narrowing her focus on the unexpected noise. Two... no, three distinct voices. Two she didn't immediately recognize. One she knew far too well.

Surely not.

She drifted toward the sound and found them in the kitchen, clustered around the island.

Her warden, Tawan Liang, stood there holding a clear dish filled with vanilla ice cream. Like a normal person.

And was that... a smile?

Ira froze, staring as the friendly tilt of Tawan's lips softened her normally sharp, no-nonsense face. For a moment, the stern, unyielding bodyguard who had taken over her life looked... human. Maybe Tawan wasn't some kind of mutant robot sent to ruin her after all.

What had brought that out? It had to be the two visitors standing beside her.

Ira vaguely remembered them from their brief introduction on the first day, when all three had arrived in the standard-issue black SUV favored by security professionals. She hadn't seen them since.

What were their names? Lin something, right? She thought back. Yes, Lin Fong. The man... Wei? No, Wei Zhen. That was it.

Lin, leaning casually against the counter, watched Tawan with bright amusement. She wore jeans and a plain white T-shirt, yet somehow managed to exude an effortless elegance that Ira envied.

Wei stood behind the kitchen island, his lanky frame hunched slightly as he rested his forearms on the counter. His dark hair brushed his shoulders, and he had a slightly awkward energy, like he wasn't entirely sure he fit into the moment. Still, he laughed easily, joining in on whatever joke had them all smiling.

It was obvious that they liked each other. The easy camaraderie between Tawan, Lin, and Wei reminded Ira of breakfast in the kitchen at Wisanu's house—warm, lively, and filled with unspoken understanding. The cozy happiness beckoned, tugging at something deep in her chest.

Before she realized it, she took a step toward them.

Lin caught sight of her first, her smile widening into something bright and welcoming. "Ira!"

"Hi, Lin. Hey, Wei." Ira gave them a small wave.

Tawan's head turned toward her, and the warm expression on her face—the one Ira hadn't even known she was capable of—vanished. In its place was the cold, impassive mask of indifference she'd worn all week.

It felt like someone had slammed a door in Ira's face.

But this was her house—or at least her sister's house—and she didn't need Tawan's sunny approval to go where she pleased.

Her eyes flicked to the bowl in Tawan's hand, and she arched an eyebrow. "Ice cream, Warden? Here I thought you were the fun police."

Wei snorted a laugh but hastily choked it off when Tawan shot him a sharp look.

"Not the fun police, exactly," Lin said with a sly tilt of her head, studying Tawan as though she were an interesting puzzle to solve. "It's more like she's on a fun diet. Occupational hazard, I suppose."

Her smile didn't waver, even as Tawan's glower shifted to her. In fact, it seemed to grow even bigger.

The dark hole of misery in Ira's chest shrink. She glanced at the kitchen island. "Is that Guss Damn Good?"

"I heard it was the best," Lin said with a nod at Wei.

"They have a 4.9-star rating," Wei said. "And your sister Kate raves about them on her feeds."

"You brought ice cream?" Ira looked back at her warden. "You did this?"

"You said you wanted it." Tawan gave a little half shrug.

A flare of gratitude flashed through her. "You were listening."

"One of the many differences between being in prison and being protected, Ms. Suwannathat," Tawan said, "is the ability to have food delivered."

The warmth she'd felt growing for her vanished. "I was actually giving you a compliment."

"No need. It's part of the job to keep our client happy. Another thing they don't do in prison." She met her gaze briefly before turning to Lin. "Check in before you head out."

"Yep," Lin said.

"See ya," Wei said without looking up from the tower of scoops he'd constructed.

Tawan walked out without another glance at Ira.

"You can't fix everything with ice cream, you know!" Ira shouted after him. When he didn't answer, she turned to Lin. "Does she really think that?"

"Her primary concern is your safety. Always," Lin said. "But she doesn't want you to be unhappy. We all want to make this as easy as it can be for you. I know how hard it is to have to wait while other people sort things out. Especially when you aren't used to sitting still."

She gave Ira a significant look as she carried her treat to the table. "I once had to hide out in a closet backstage at Fashion Week because they were putting the finishing touches on the dress I was assigned for the runway show. I was the surprise ending, so to speak. It was only supposed to take an hour, tops. Three hours later, there was still no dress and it was thirty minutes to showtime. Nobody would tell me why it was taking so long. Drove me absolutely crazy." Lin took a large bite and closed her eyes. "Oh, this is good."

Ira stared at her. "You sat in a closet for three hours?"

Lin's eyes sparked with malicious amusement. "They thought I did."

Ira snorted a laugh. "I wouldn't have lasted thirty minutes."

"If there was Wi-Fi," Wei said, "I could have lasted three years."

Lin rolled her eyes, grinning. "Boy Genius here is lying. His father founded H&L Biotech in Hong Kong, and his family fortune is so vast it's practically a private bank account for him. His first apartment had so much tech in it, it was practically sentient."

Ira burst out laughing.

"It was not," Wei said, his tone matter-of-fact. "The room was too small for more than six monitors and three hard drives. It takes a surprising amount of equipment to build anything more substantial, like a frame that might mimic life. That's why I had to rent the storage facility."

Ira stared at him, her spoon hovering midair. "You actually built a robot?"

"Oh yes. Several." Wei took another bite of ice cream, his expression utterly nonchalant. "You know, the ratings on this place are completely accurate."

"Ice cream isn't an everyday treat for me—not with how it coats my vocal cords," Ira said, savoring her first bite. "So when I have it, I like to have the good stuff. Guss Damn Good is the best I've ever found. It's basically childhood in a cup." She glanced at the carton of Cherry Obsession. "You even brought my favorite flavor."

Wei handed her a sundae dish. "That, plus vanilla for Tawan, Midnight Madness for me, brownies, bananas, and all of the toppings, including nuts. Although I don't think you like those. Actually, forty-one percent of people like nuts on their sundaes, but in your videos, I've never seen you add them. We brought them anyway, just in case."

"Thanks. This all looks great." Ira couldn't help the twitch of amusement at the wave of awkward energy radiating from Wei. She added two scoops to her dish, topped them with a drizzle of fudge sauce and a generous handful of cherries, then joined Lin at the table. "How long do you think I'll be trapped here?"

"We can't really answer that, which I know isn't what you want to hear," Lin said sympathetically. "There are a lot of moving parts to sift through. You're a very busy woman, which makes figuring out who our letter writer is take longer than usual. That's why we have Wei."

"I'm the king of data," Wei said proudly. "I've already sifted through three point four million of your emails and eliminated two thousand five hundred and three potentials."

"Two... thousand?" Ira blinked. Surely, he wasn't serious. But the eager expression on his face told her he was. "How many more are there?"

Wei glanced at Lin, as if asking for permission, before answering, "Five thousand two hundred and forty-five."

Ira's spoon clattered into her dish as she felt the rest of the year slipping away. "Five thousand... That'll take forever! Wisanu's baby will be here before you finish. Ying will probably be married and pregnant by then. Kate will have opened another boutique hotel somewhere, and I'll still be here eating ice cream."

"Oh, it won't take that long," Wei said cheerfully. "It took a couple of days to write the program that's doing the search. But it's working great now, and my spiders are crawling through the social media feeds of all the remaining names, twenty-four seven. It never stops."

"How long will that take?" Ira asked, the tension in her shoulders returning.

"How long is a piece of string?" Lin countered with a knowing smile. "The point is, we're working the problem as hard and fast as we can."

"What happens if none of those five thousand is the one?" Ira's frustration bubbled to the surface. "What if you get to the end of the string and there's just more string?"

Lin leaned forward, her gaze steady and confident. "Then we follow that string and the next one until we find him."

"But what if there is no him?" Ira slumped in her chair, her frustration spilling out. "What if he's dead already, or in jail, or if it was just some kid you can never find because his mom took his computer away, or..."

"Everyone leaves a digital trail," Wei said. "Especially obsessive people."

"He's already sent emails and a written letter. Trust me, this guy wants to be found," Lin added, her lips twitching with a faint smile. "I'm sure he's counting on being found by you, not us, but that's his problem. The point is, we won't stop until we find him and we know you're safe."

Ira knew they were trying to reassure her, to comfort her. But how long did they expect her to stay cooped up in this house because someone, somewhere, might one day send her another creepy note?

She didn't believe they'd ever find the guy who sent that stupid letter because there was nothing to find. And while they searched for a ghost, she was stuck here in this mostly empty villa, with a warden who didn't like her, a silent army who wouldn't talk to her, and leftover ice cream for company.

She wished, more than anything, that she hadn't promised to stay.

But she'd sworn to her siblings she'd do the responsible thing. She'd looked into Tan's eyes and vowed she'd follow the advice of her new security team. If Tawan decided she had to stay locked in this house for a year, then she'd do it—or break her promise. And she was not breaking her promise.

She hadn't worked so hard over the past few years to rebuild her image, her life, to mess it up now.

They'd made progress this week, Ira reminded herself.

They'd eliminated over two thousand people. That was a lot of people for a week.

There were only five thousand left.

She stifled a groan.

She could be patient for a little while longer. She had to be. It would be like a long-haul flight or a grueling bus tour. All she had to do was buckle up and survive the ride.

Determined to live in the moment, she took a deep breath and savored another bite of her favorite ice cream. "So," she asked, forcing a lighter tone into her voice, "how did you guys end up working with my grump of a warden?"