The Office
The boardroom clock ticked with brutal indifference.
Aria Garcia sat like stone at the long glass table, blazer sharp, notes arranged in precise stacks. To anyone watching, she looked unshakable efficient, composed, untouchable. But beneath the surface, her body screamed for sleep.
The fluorescent lights buzzed above her like an interrogation lamp. Each new presentation felt like an accusation:" You're late on rest. You're late on life."
"...billboards along Sukhumvit Road, digital wraps on the BTS Skytrain, teaser campaigns designed to roll out in phases" Pim's voice was smooth, practiced. A junior marketing executive, young but bright.
Aria's pen tapped silently against the tabletop. She wasn't absorbing half of it.
Samantha Pradchaphet leaned forward, the faint clink of her bracelets punctuating the silence. "Slide 17," she said, cutting Pim off gently.
The slide changed. Faces appeared potential brand ambassadors, actors, influencers.
"Forget them." Sam's voice sliced through the air. "I've already secured someone bigger."
Aria's head turned slightly, fatigue softening her usually sharp expression. "Already?"
Sam's smile was feline, calculated. "Aria, trust me. This one will make the launch unforgettable."
"Controversial," Pim muttered, almost under her breath.
Aria raised a brow. "That word again."
Sam only smirked. "Controlled chaos. That's what makes her perfect. Beauty isn't safe anymore.... it's bold."
Aria wanted to argue, to question. But she was too tired. Her temples throbbed. "If you've already decided, then I'll trust your call."
Sam tilted her head, studying Aria. "You're not even curious who it is?"
"I trust you," Aria said simply. "That's enough."
Around the table, assistants traded discreet glances. The tension in the air wasn't hostility, it was loyalty. Aria trusted Sam like gravity. And no one dared to shake that faith.
Leaving the Office
By the time the meeting ended, Bangkok was already a wash of neon and humid night air pressing against the tall glass windows.
Aria gathered her laptop, her planner, her dignity all carried with the same weight. Sam touched her arm before she left.
"Go home, Aria."
Her lips curved into a faint, tired smile. "And let you run the empire alone?"
Sam's eyes softened. "We built this empire together. You don't have to destroy yourself to keep it standing."
Aria hesitated. For a heartbeat, she almost admitted how tired she truly was. Instead, she nodded, then slipped into the quiet of the corridor.
Her heels echoed down the hall, rhythmic, fading. She didn't see Pim's laptop screen glowing just a few doors away.
A draft teaser campaign. A woman's face mid-laugh, tilted toward the camera, eyes alive with fire. The silver dress shimmered even in half-edit.
But Aria never looked. Not yet.
Aria's Apartment
The door clicked shut behind her. Silence. Blessed, heavy silence.
Aria dropped her heels by the entrance, her blazer on the back of a chair. The city hummed faintly outside her window, but here, she could breathe.
She reheated last night's curry and rice, the microwave humming like a lullaby. The muted TV flickered images of politics and traffic reports she didn't bother listening to.
Her apartment wasn't extravagant, but it was hers. Warm wood floors, a single potted plant she half-kept alive, photos of her family tucked into frames on the sideboard. Manila felt far away here, but sometimes when she let herself think too long it still ached.
She curled onto the couch with her plate, eating slowly. Each bite dulled the sharp edges of the day.
Her mind drifted not to numbers or projections but to Sam.
Five years ago, she'd arrived in Thailand with little more than a suitcase and ambition. Sam had seen her not as a risk but as potential. Together, they'd fought through investor rejections, distribution nightmares, and the kind of nights where success felt like a cruel joke.
Sam had believed in her when Aria barely believed in herself.
That loyalty ran deeper than contracts or paychecks.
Flash of the Past
Her eyes drifted shut, and like a trick of the mind, that other face came back.
A bar. The clink of glasses. A woman with eyes too sharp, too alive. A smirk that felt like a dare.
Aria stirred, snapping herself back. Not important.
But her chest betrayed her with a subtle ache.
Across the City
Malee's Pov
Elsewhere, in a suite lit by soft lamplight and scattered designer luggage, Malee Charoensuk sprawled across the couch, her phone buzzing with incoming messages from her agent.
She ignored them all. Her mind was stuck on one thing, one person.
Her grin curled as she stared at the ceiling.
"I'll find you."
Back at the Apartment
Aria's POV
Aria finished her meal and set the plate aside. She tucked her legs under herself and let her head rest against the couch.
The hum of the city outside was steady, distant.
For the first time all week, she let her eyes close without fighting it.
And somewhere in the blur of neon and fate, paths were already aligning.
The brand. The launch. The woman she told herself didn't matter.
The storm was already moving toward her.
She just didn't know it yet.