As the long workday ended, Rithvik Veerayut stood silently before the glass wall of his office, the Bangkok skyline glowing in the fading golden hue of dusk. He rarely left the office early, let alone on time. But tonight, something shifted within him. He picked up his keys, tossed a last look at the mountain of reports he could've buried himself into, and walked out.
For the first time in months—perhaps even a year—he was going home.
---
THE VEERAYUT MANSION
Nestled in the heart of Bangkok's most affluent district, the Veerayut estate looked less like a home and more like a royal villa. Tall white marble pillars stood proud beneath ornate golden trims, and a sprawling garden surrounded by koi ponds gave the entire area a sense of elegant serenity.
As Rithvik's sleek black car pulled into the driveway, the household staff stood upright in surprise. The head butler, Somchai, exchanged glances with the gardener.
"Khun Rithvik's here?" Somchai whispered.
"The cold god returns," the gardener muttered.
Inside, the energy shifted.
---
THE VEERAYUT FAMILY
Father: Vichai Veerayut, a sharp-eyed businessman in his late 50s. The man commanded every room he entered. With silver-streaked black hair and an intimidating aura, he had built the Veerayut empire from scratch. Though strict, he loved his sons deeply—especially his eldest, Rithvik—but struggled to express emotion beyond business terms.
Mother: Sasiprapa Veerayut, graceful and warm. Once a classical dancer, she carried herself with gentle pride. She was the heart of the family—often caught between the emotional walls her sons built and her husband's ambitions.
Middle Son: Thanwa Veerayut, 28, the charismatic charmer of the family. Always smiling, always teasing, his soft curls and witty nature made him popular everywhere. He worked in the entertainment industry as a media consultant, often appearing in public events.
Youngest Son: Pakorn Veerayut, 25, the slightly bossy yet protective sibling. A corporate strategist at the family company, he was known for being direct and occasionally dramatic. He often competed with Rithvik growing up but admired him deeply.
---
As Rithvik entered the mansion, Thanwa leaned over the railing of the staircase with a grin.
"Well, well, well... Which side did the sun set today? The cold god has returned!"
Rithvik raised a brow. "Then I guess you don't need your credit card anymore, right?"
Thanwa's eyes widened. "I take it back! I take it back! Welcome home, my beloved brother!"
Pakorn smirked, emerging from the lounge. "You two are so dramatic. He came back because he ran out of instant coffee at his condo."
Rithvik shook his head, hiding a small smile. Their teasing, their banter—it was oddly comforting.
---
DINNER TIME
Everyone gathered around the long, gold-inlaid wooden table. Steaming dishes lined the center—pad thai, green curry, spicy chicken basil, and more. The atmosphere was lively as Sasiprapa filled each bowl herself, ensuring everyone ate enough.
"It feels like the old days," she said, eyes misty.
Thanwa passed the chili sauce to Rithvik. "I almost forgot how to eat without your judgmental stare."
Pakorn chuckled. "Now that he's back, let's discuss the real reason he came home. He missed Mom's mango sticky rice."
Rithvik was about to respond when their father, Vichai, cleared his throat.
"Rithvik," he began, folding his hands on the table. "I had a meeting with an old friend today. His daughter is back in Thailand, recently graduated from London. Beautiful, well-educated, and from a respected family. I think you should meet her."
Rithvik froze.
Vichai continued, "You already know her—Kanlaya."
The name pierced through the air like a dagger. Everyone turned to Rithvik.
His face darkened. In the blink of an eye, he stood up, the clatter of his chair echoing across the dining hall. With a cold glare, he flung the porcelain plate across the room. It shattered against the wall.
"Don't. Mention. My. Marriage. Again," he said, his voice trembling with rage. "Not her. Not anyone."
He stormed away.
"Rithvik!" his mother called after him, but he had already vanished into the corridor.
---
BROTHERS' SUPPORT
Thanwa and Pakorn looked at each other, their cheerful expressions gone.
"Dad, that was unnecessary," Pakorn said, voice firm.
"He already went through hell. You of all people should know what happened with Pimchanok," Thanwa added.
Vichai frowned, troubled. "He's almost 30. How long is he going to shut out the world?"
"As long as it takes for him to trust again," Pakorn said quietly. "Don't push him."
Without another word, both brothers stood up and followed their elder brother to check on him.
---
Veerayut Mansion, Post-Dinner Silence
The warm lights of the Veerayut mansion flickered as a quiet tension wrapped around the air like an invisible shroud. The luxurious dining hall, usually filled with light laughter and familial warmth, had turned cold and silent after Rithvik stormed away.
Sasiprapa Veerayut, elegant and dignified, sat on the carved wooden bench by the open veranda, overlooking the koi pond. Her fingers tightened gently around the rim of her ceramic teacup as ripples danced over the water's surface—reflecting the turmoil in her heart.
Vichai Veerayut, still at the head of the table, leaned back in his chair, deep in thought, eyes staring into the space where his eldest son had once sat.
Sasiprapa (softly, without looking at him):
"Why did you have to mention that name, Vichai?"
Vichai (frowning, puzzled):
"What do you mean? Kanlaya is Chatchai's daughter. A lovely girl. I thought if Rithvik met her, perhaps… he could finally move on."
Sasiprapa (turning her eyes to him, voice tinged with pain):
"Do you not remember? That was her name."
Vichai blinked, confused.
"Whose?"
Sasiprapa:
"Her. The one who shattered our son's heart into pieces. The Kanlaya. The only girl he ever brought home."
Vichai's eyes widened slowly as realization dawned.
"The girl he dated all through university? The one with the sunshine laugh and lotus blossom smile?"
Sasiprapa (nodding, voice sad):
"Yes. That Kanlaya. You should have seen him, Vichai. The moment you said her name… his entire face changed. That wasn't anger. That was pain. Deep pain."
Vichai (placing a trembling hand on the table):
"I… I didn't connect it. Kanlaya is such a common name—I never imagined…"
Sasiprapa:
"Common or not, for him, it was never just a name. She left him without a word. Ghosted him after four years of being his whole world. Since then… you've seen what he became. Cold. Distant. Focused only on work."
Vichai (quietly):
"A walking ice wall…"
Sasiprapa (sadly smiling):
"Exactly. And now, after years, you bring up the idea of marriage—and mention her name again. What do you expect him to feel?"
Vichai (guilt-ridden):
"I only wanted to help… to give him a future. Not reopen old wounds."
Sasiprapa (placing a calming hand over his):
"I know. But his heart hasn't healed, Vichai. We need to be careful. We can't push marriage like a business deal. Not with him."
Vichai (quietly, regretfully):
"Then… I'll make this right. Tomorrow. I'll talk to him."
Sasiprapa (softly):
"Let him be for tonight. When he's ready, he'll open up again. But not if we keep reminding him of what broke him."
---