We heard faint sounds coming from the hallway.
"I think our friends are awake," I said softly, smiling at him.
Chak looked at me the way he always does when he forgets the rest of the world exists. Then, without warning, he lifted me into his arms.
"I love you," he whispered.
My heart skipped.
When we reached the dressing room, he gently set me down on my feet and took a shirt from the hanger.
"Wear this one," he said.
I frowned slightly. "Chak… this isn't my shirt."
"I know," he replied calmly. "It's mine. I had it shortened so it would fit you."
For a second I couldn't even speak. I took the fabric between my fingers and brought it closer, breathing it in.
"It really smells like you, Chaky," I murmured.
He didn't answer. Instead, he lifted me again and placed me carefully into the armchair. Then he crouched in front of me and slid my slippers onto my feet like it was the most natural thing in the world.
It wasn't about the slippers.
It was about the way he looked at me while doing it.
We walked to the kitchen together.
The moment we entered, Kit leaned toward Taeng and stole a quick kiss from him.
"Seriously?" Taeng muttered, but he was smiling.
Chak glanced at me, stepped closer, and pressed a soft kiss to my cheek.
"You're glowing," he said quietly.
Before I could answer, we heard footsteps. Anamarija walked in, effortlessly elegant even in the early morning light.
"Good morning," she said, smiling at all of us.
Soon we were sitting around the table, eating breakfast together. The atmosphere was relaxed, warm, easy. There was laughter, teasing, clinking cups, and that comfortable silence that only comes when people truly belong together.
Then the doorbell rang.
Chak stood up. "That must be them."
He went to open the door, and moments later Amara, Non, and Pim walked in carrying large garment bags.
They looked around the house in awe before placing the bags carefully on the couch.
Non crossed his arms dramatically and looked at Chak.
"So this is it, huh? The legendary wedding of Mr. Cold and Untouchable," he said. "I never thought I'd live to see this day."
Chak just raised an eyebrow.
Non turned to me and grinned. "And you, Niran. If you start crying today, you can lean on me. I'll even bring tissues. Premium quality."
"Don't encourage him," Pim sighed.
Amara laughed. "Ignore them. We're here to make sure everything is perfect."
I looked around at all of them — at Chak, at our friends, at Anamarija standing calmly near the table.
And in that moment, everything felt right.
Not perfect.
But real.
And full of love.
Chak straightened slightly and looked at everyone in the room.
"Listen," he said, his voice calm but firm. "I have to leave now."
The laughter slowly faded.
"When you arrive there, Rattan will be waiting for you. He'll take you to the room where I'll be."
His expression shifted — not softer, not colder. Stronger.
"And because I'm almost certain my mother will cause a scandal the moment she sees you," he continued, his eyes briefly moving across all of us, "you need to be prepared for anything."
Then his gaze stopped.
On Anamarija.
"Especially you."
The room grew quiet.
Anamarija didn't flinch. She didn't look offended. She simply met his eyes and gave a small nod.
"Today," she said calmly, "love won't win."
There was a pause.
"Power will."
The words didn't sound bitter.
They sounded realistic.
Chak inhaled slowly, then his eyes found mine.
"Come with me," he said softly.
I followed him to the bedroom. The moment the door closed behind us, the air changed.
He wasn't shaking.
He wasn't panicking.
But I could see it — in the way his shoulders were slightly tense, in the way his jaw tightened just a little.
He was carrying everything alone again.
"Don't worry," I whispered and stepped closer.
I wrapped my arms around him, pressing my cheek against his chest.
"Everything will be okay."
For a second he didn't move.
Then his arms came around me — strong, protective, almost desperate.
He pulled back just enough to look at me.
And then he kissed me.
Not hurried.
Not uncertain.
But like a promise.
Like no matter what happened outside that door…
I was his safe place.
Chak stepped back first.
He didn't say anything else. He just moved toward the wardrobe and began getting dressed.
Simple.
That was the first thing I noticed.
No unnecessary details. No dramatic statement pieces. Just a perfectly tailored suit in a deep, dark shade that made him look even more composed, more untouchable. Clean lines. Sharp shoulders. Minimal.
Power without decoration.
He adjusted his cuffs, checked the fit in the mirror — calm on the outside.
I walked closer.
"Chak…" I said quietly. "Can you help me with my necklace?"
He turned to me immediately.
I handed him the thin chain, lifting my hair slightly so he could see my neck. I felt his fingers brush against my skin as he fastened it.
His touch was steady.
Careful.
When he finished, his hands didn't move away right away.
Instead, his lips brushed softly against the side of my neck.
Slow.
Warm.
"Don't forget," he murmured against my skin, "I love you, Artist."
Artist.
The name only he used when he saw the part of me I tried to hide from everyone else.
My chest tightened.
"I won't forget," I whispered.
We walked back into the living room together.
Everyone looked up at us.
Chak's expression shifted again — composed, controlled, unreadable.
He looked at each of them one by one.
"See you there," he said. "And at 9:30, you leave from here."
Non saluted dramatically. "Yes, sir."
Amara rolled her eyes. Pim adjusted one of the garment bags. Anamarija simply watched quietly.
Chak moved toward the entrance.
I followed him.
When we reached the door, the world felt strangely still. Like everything outside was waiting.
He turned to me one last time.
No words.
I stepped closer and kissed him.
Not long.
Not desperate.
Just enough to say everything we couldn't say out loud in front of the others.
When we pulled apart, he rested his forehead briefly against mine.
Then he opened the door.
And stepped into the day that would change everything.
The door clicked shut.
For a few seconds, no one spoke.
It felt like the house had exhaled.
Then Kit clapped his hands once.
"Alright," he said, glancing at the clock. "Let's go get changed. It's almost 9:30."
Just like that, the stillness broke.
Garment bags were lifted from the couch. Zippers slid open. Fabric whispered against fabric as everyone moved toward their rooms.
I stood there for a moment longer, touching the necklace at my collarbone.
I love you, Artist.
"Hey," Taeng nudged me gently. "You too. Go."
I nodded and went to change.
---
When we all came back out one by one, the atmosphere had shifted again.
It wasn't lazy morning warmth anymore.
It was anticipation.
Non stepped out first, adjusting his jacket dramatically. "If I look better than the groom, that's not my fault."
"You always look like you're trying too hard," Kit replied dryly.
Pim emerged next, already focused, already scanning all of us with sharp eyes.
"Okay," she said, clapping softly. "I'm doing the hair."
Amara lifted her makeup bag with a small smile. "And I'll handle the makeup."
"Of course you will," Non muttered. "Today we transform into expensive guests."
Pim pointed at a chair. "Sit."
Non obeyed immediately.
I couldn't help but smile.
One by one, we took turns.
Pim's fingers were gentle but precise as she styled my hair. I watched her in the mirror, watched how carefully she shaped everything.
Amara stepped in next, brushing lightly over my skin, enhancing but not hiding.
"You're already beautiful," she said quietly to me. "We're just polishing the glow."
I swallowed.
Across the room, Anamarija stood tall as Pim adjusted a final strand of her hair. She looked composed. Elegant. Untouchable.
Power.
That's what she had said earlier.
And maybe she was right.
But as I looked at all of us — helping each other, teasing, fixing collars, adjusting cuffs — I felt something stronger than power.
Connection.
Kit glanced at the clock.
"9:25."
The room grew quieter.
Garment bags were gone. Hair was set. Makeup finished.
We were ready.
And in five minutes, we would step into whatever was waiting for us.
At exactly 9:30, we stepped outside.
A black van was waiting in front of the house.
Engine running.
Doors open.
For a second, I just stood there, taking in the sight. It felt official. Too official. Like this wasn't just a wedding anymore — it was an event.
"Alright," Kit said softly. "Let's go."
We got inside one by one. The door slid shut behind us, and the van pulled away smoothly.
No one spoke at first.
The city moved outside the tinted windows, bright and unaware of the storm quietly building beneath our calm expressions.
Then Non cleared his throat dramatically.
"So," he began, leaning back in his seat and looking straight at Anamarija, "the media is going crazy."
Anamarija didn't even blink. "About what?"
Non lifted his phone and waved it slightly. "They're asking if you're coming to the wedding. And if you are — when you're arriving."
Pim groaned softly. "Of course they are."
"They're speculating," Non continued, clearly enjoying the drama. "Some articles are saying your appearance could 'shift the balance of influence inside the Phansprasit family.'"
Taeng rolled his eyes. "They make it sound like a political summit."
"It kind of is," Non replied casually.
I glanced at Anamarija.
She was looking out the window, posture straight, hands resting calmly in her lap.
"And what are they predicting?" she asked.
Non smirked. "Half of them think you won't dare show up. The other half think you'll arrive last, make a statement entrance, and steal the spotlight."
A small silence followed.
Then Anamarija turned her head slowly, her expression composed.
"I don't need to steal the spotlight," she said quietly. "I just need to stand in it."
Non stared at her for a second.
"…Okay," he muttered. "That was powerful. I'm not even mad."
I couldn't help but smile faintly.
But beneath the humor, beneath the teasing, I felt it again — that tension.
Chak's mother.
The guests.
The cameras.
The power.
I touched my necklace unconsciously.
Whatever was waiting for us…
We were already on our way.