Tawan heard Ira's scream and instinctively pulled her to the side, narrowly avoiding the man behind her who had tried to stab her from behind. However, in moving Ira, Tawan lost her footing and fell to the floor, unable to get up in time. Seeing the man lunge forward with a knife, Tawan glanced at Ira behind her. If she dodged, Ira would take the blow. Her injured right arm lacked its usual strength, making complex moves impossible. With unwavering determination, Tawan raised her right arm to intercept the blade.

The blade plunged into her flesh with a sickening thud. Pain exploded in a white-hot burst. Tawan's breath hitched. But she couldn't afford to falter. Gritting her teeth, she clamped her hand around the man's wrist, her fingers digging into his skin with a grip fueled by sheer willpower.

At that very moment, two more men burst into the room.

Tawan's focus locked on the knife lodged in her arm, blood already seeping from the wound. She gritted her teeth, yanked it out, and flipped it in her hand, ignoring the sting. Her gaze sharpened—cold, lethal—like a leopard stalking its prey.

Then she moved.

In one swift motion, she struck the first man. A strangled cry tore from his throat as he collapsed. The second man tried to retreat, but Tawan was faster: a ruthless slash severed the tendons in his right wrist, wrenching a howl of agony from him.

They wouldn't be getting up again.

Tawan stood over them, her breathing steady, blood staining her fingers and blade. The metallic tang of iron thickened the air. She had no time for mercy—and she never left loose ends.

"Can you stand?" - Tawan tossed the knife aside and walked over to Ira, who was frozen in terror.

Ira didn't respond, only nodded as she extended her hand for Tawan to help her up.

"P'Tawan, your arm..." - Ira noticed the blood-soaked red stain on Tawan's sleeve as she stood. Her heart ached, torn between pain and worry.

"It's nothing, just a scratch. I'll deal with it later."

" ..." - Ira lowered her head without replying, tears welling in her eyes. Her heart trembled at the sight of Tawan's injury, overwhelmed by sorrow and guilt.

"Let's go."

"To where?"

"My house. This place isn't safe anymore."

"Alright..." - Ira nodded, allowing Tawan to take charge.

"Get change and pack a few essentials. If there's anything else you want, give me a list, and I'll have someone bring it over."

"Okay."

Ira quickly changed clothes and returned. Passing through the living room, she paused to look at a photograph of herself on the wall. Turning to Tawan, she hesitated.

"What's wrong?" - Tawan was busy wrapping her wound with gauze.

"Can we take this with us?" - Ira pointed to the portrait photograph.

Tawan glanced at the artistic photo. After a moment's thought, she nodded. For some reason, she didn't want anyone else to see this image of Ira. She covered her wound with temporary gauze, grabbed a chair, and carefully took the picture down. After a brief look, Tawan felt a strange, indescribable emotion stir in her heart.

"How about... burning it?" - Tawan asked, looking at Ira.

"What? Are you crazy? I worked so hard to take that photo!" - Ira rushed over, snatching the picture from Tawan's hands.

"Then just ask the photographer for the original file and make another."

"What file? I set up the camera and shot it myself. There's only one copy!" - Ira retorted sharply.

"You took this yourself?"

"Yes"

"Has anyone else seen this photo besides me?"

"No!" - Ira raised her voice defensively. - "Oh, except those three guys earlier."

"They didn't have time to look." - Tawan smirked. - "Fine, take it with us then."

Tawan wrapped the picture in a cloth and made a call.

"Have you arrived yet?"

"I'm waiting outside."

"Good." - Tawan quickly opened the door.

Standing outside was Pey bowing politely. Behind her, two men were tied up with sacks over their heads. Tawan barely spared them a glance before gesturing for her team to enter the house.

"You're injured?" Pey's eyes widened as she caught sight of the fresh blood trailing down Tawan's arm.

"Yeah."

Pey blinked. "Who the hell did this?" She had the audacity to ask—clearly unafraid of dying today.

Tawan shot her a glare and spat out two words, "Limited mobility."

"Ah... so it's just an inconvenience then. Not because you threw yourself into harm's way for a certain someone, right?" Pey muttered under her breath.

A murderous stare from Tawan promptly shut her up.

Regaining her composure, Tawan shifted her focus back to the others. "There are three more inside. Take them back and deal with them." She glanced toward the bound painting resting on the sofa and nodded toward Ira. "And you—bring that with us."

Pey followed Tawan's gaze, her eyes landing on the canvas wrapped tightly in cloth. Curious, she reached for it, her fingers itching to take a peek.

But the moment she even thought about untying it, she felt two distinct waves of murderous intent crash over her—one from her ever-intimidating boss and the other from their VIP guest, Ira.

Pey gulped. Alright. Message received. No peeking.

She quickly lowered her head and obediently followed orders.

"Let's go." Tawan extended her hand.

"Alright." Without hesitation, Ira placed her hand in Tawan's and followed her lead.

Pey, trailing behind them, nearly stumbled over her own feet. What. The. Hell.

Her boss—the Tawan—who had spent twenty-nine years avoiding relationships like the plague, refusing to hold hands, make small talk, let anyone near her personal space, let alone touch her, was now casually intertwining fingers with one of the hottest idols in the industry?

"You drive it! Don't peek!" - Tawan pointed, warning her.

"To where?"

"My house."

"What?"

"You mean the headquarters?"

"No, my private residence". - Tawan repeated.

Stunned, Pey acted mechanically, placing the photo in the backseat and silently driving behind the bright orange McLaren P1. It had been ages since she had taken this road—Tawan's private residence. No one was ever allowed inside unless it was an emergency. Even Pey had only been there three times. Yet this client was already stepping into Tawan's "kingdom".

"Place it there." - Tawan directed, signaling for Pey where to leave the canvas. - "Handle the other matters and report back to me."

"Yes, ma'am" - Pey bowed and left.

Ira's eyes widened in surprise as she looked at the distant, unfamiliar house, yet she could sense Tawan's warmth in the air. The house was decorated with minimalism in mind, using shades of grey, exuding a strong yet meticulous style with a slight chilliness to it, contrasting with Ira's cozy apartment concept. However, she found herself liking this place; it gave her a feeling of being protected, an absolute sense of safety.

"I need to take care of my injury. There are two rooms upstairs—the one on the right is mine. You can stay in the one on the left." - Tawan said as she typed a message on her phone. - "Send me a list of what you need, and I'll have Pey bring it."

"No need. I already have the essentials. Everything else can be replaced" - Ira smiled.

Tawan didn't respond, simply nodding with a small smile. She watched Ira ascend the stairs before sitting on the sofa to review information on her iPad.

The roar of a motorcycle drew her attention. A woman walked in as though she belonged, placing her helmet on a shelf before approaching Tawan.

"What kind of injury required calling me?"

"This." - Tawan extended her arm, showing the swollen, bloodied mess.

The woman winced.

"Oh my god, can you stop getting injured every few days? I've only had 10 days of peace!"

"Just take care of it" - Tawan ignored the complaints, focusing on her iPad.

"P'Tawan! Do you...—" Ira called out as she descended the stairs, only to freeze at the sight before her.

A woman stood beside Tawan, her hand wrapped around Tawan's without resistance.

A sharp pang of jealousy surged through Ira, leaving a bitter taste in her mouth.

"Oh? Ohhh..." The woman turned to Tawan, her gaze laced with mischief and something almost provocative. "You brought a woman home?" Now that's a first.

"She's a client." - Tawan shot her a warning glare.

"Clients didn't get this kind of treatment before."

"She's a VIP. No, a VVIP."

"Really? It's not the first time you've had VIPs. That one last time..."—

"This one's different."

"Hello, I'm Ira." - Ira interrupted with a smile, cutting off their conversation.

"Hello, I'm..."

"Jaja?" - Ira's eyes widened, stunned as she recognized her.

"Huh? You know me?" - Jaja looked equally surprised.

"You two... know each other? - Tawan's cold voice broke in. Jaja was known for her flirtatious nature, and the idea of Ira knowing her sparked some unpleasant thoughts. Tawan had no patience for that though. Everything turns bitter suddenly.

"No! I don't know her!" - Jaja quickly denied, intimidated by Tawan's sharp gaze. She knew the woman in front of her wasn't someone to mess with.

"I don't know her. I've just seen pictures of her." - Ira chuckled, catching a hint of Tawan's jealousy.

"Good lord! Explain yourself, please! That glare is going to kill me! When did you get a picture of me? I never gave you one!" - Jaja wailed dramatically.

"Nene." - Ira replied simply, sitting beside Tawan and looking at her wound with concern.

The mention of the name made Jaja freeze, her teasing demeanor vanishing. Sadness flickered in her eyes before she forced a smile.

"Tawan, I'll get your supplies." - Jaja quickly excused herself.

"If you keep this up, P'Nene will end up with someone else." - Ira called after her.

"What?"

"She's getting engaged in 10 days."

Jaja froze at the revelation. After silently treating Tawan's wound, she grabbed her helmet to leave.

"Where can I find her?"

"Your house."

"Thanks. I owe you one."

Jaja left without another word. Tawan watched her go, intrigued. So, Nene was Jaja's secret love? She recalled seeing photos on Jaja's laptop once. No wonder why Tawan found Nene's face vaguely familiar on their first encounter.

"You're impressive." - Tawan brushed a strand of Ira's hair with a soft smile.

"Why?"

"To have Dandao's heiress owe you a favor—now that's impressive."

"Then what would you call someone who can summon her like the wind?" - Ira smirked.

Tawan laughed aloud, and Ira smiled along. Their eyes met, a predatory glint in both their gazes. But this predator didn't want to harm its prey—its intentions were far more curious.

"You've piqued my interest, Ira."

"And you've sparked my curiosity, Tawan."

The two beautiful faces faced each other. Were they enemies? Allies? Or something else entirely? The only certainty was that their destinies were now intertwined, inseparable except by death. Their fates would move forward together, bound by an unbreakable thread, from now on.

END CHAP 5