BOUND BY FIRE

“Sir, shall we proceed to the next round?” jay’s assistant leaned in, whispering low enough that only he could hear.

“Yes,” Jay replied sharply, his jaw clenched and his patience wearing thin. They’d been at the casino since morning. The place was alive with smoke, music, and the kind of tension only money and pride could buy. People laughed, drank, and bet their lives on cards they didn’t understand. But Jay wasn’t here for amusement.

He never was.

Chips were down. His losses were piling up. But Jay wasn’t the type to walk away from a table, not when the fire was building in his blood, not when the challenge whispered to him through every dice roll, every glance, every beat of his own tightly wound pulse.

Across the room, his cousin Jeff stood like a statue in human form, eyes locked, posture rigid, and always watching. Jeff was the only one who could read him without words. And tonight, Jeff knew something was off.

The energy was all wrong. It was too loud and too tight. Jay had felt it before he saw it, like a storm crawling under his skin.

Then a whisper from his assistant. Three words. Not even spoken clearly. "He's here, sir."

Jay’s eyes narrowed. “Who?” A slight pause. Then “Jack.”

Jay looked up sharply.

And there he was.

Sitting at the far end of the floor, casual and unbothered like a king who didn’t need a crown to command attention. Leaning back in the velvet chair with one arm draped lazily, his dark eyes were fixed directly on Jay as if he’d been waiting.

Jack Charlie.

He looked his usual calm but dangerous self.

Jay’s blood boiled.

He stood up abruptly, the chair screeching across the floor. The crowd shifted like ocean waves around him as he moved with purpose, each step cutting through the noise. He didn’t stop until he was face-to-face with the casino owner.

“Why the hell is Jack here?” Jay snapped.

Mr. Nuel Arapin, the casino’s owner, a man who owed the Vavaporns more than he dared admit, fumbled with his tie and his courage.

“S-Sir, I told him—told him you were already inside. I tried to—”

Jay raised a hand.

“No one stops Jack Charlie,” he said bitterly. “Of course he said that.”

Jay didn’t wait for further excuses. He turned and stormed across the room, a human wildfire in designer black. Patrons stepped back instinctively. The air shifted around him. The weight of his anger could be felt before he even reached Jack’s table.

Jack didn’t move, Not an inch.

Jay grabbed him by the collar and yanked him from his seat, dragging him upright.

“Are you looking to die tonight?” Jay hissed, close enough that their foreheads nearly touched.

Jack didn’t flinch. He didn’t even blink. He just… smirked.

That infuriating, arrogant smirk, the one that made Jay want to break him apart just to stop feeling like he was losing control.

“Let go,” Jack said coolly, his voice as smooth as silk laced with venom. “Unless you want everyone to know how badly you want to touch me.”

Jay’s grip tightened before he realized what he was doing. He stared into those eyes—so dark, so annoying—and then let go with a jerk like he’d been burned.

He turned on his heel, ready to walk it off, to go cool himself down, and to get as far away from Jack Charlie as possible before he did something stupid.

But then, the sirens.

The Police were there for a raid.

The sound tore through the casino like a blade. Screams erupted from different directions, and tables were flipped. Chips scattered like broken promises across the floor.

People ran in every direction.

Jay’s men immediately surrounded him, their guns tucked beneath coats, eyes scanning the exits. Jack’s crew did the same, falling in behind him like shadows ready to strike.

But in the confusion, amid the smoke and chaos and flashing lights, Jay and Jack collided again—shoulder to shoulder—pushed by the fleeing crowd.

“Move,” Jay growled.

“Make me,” Jack shot back.

Another flash of chaos sent a group of guests rushing between them, and instinct took over. The two men ducked behind a thick velvet curtain along the hallway near the restricted vault area; the area was hidden, silent, and unseen.

Just the two of them. Breathing heavily and only inches apart.

There was no backup, no bodyguards, and not even weapons in their hands. Just heat and silence and tension so thick it could choke.

Jay’s heart slammed in his chest. His breathing didn’t slow. Jack was so close he could smell the faint trace of clean cologne beneath his sweat. Their eyes locked again, and this time, it felt different. The anger vanished, and the noise faded.

And in its place, something electric, something terrifying, something they both didn't have a name for yet.

A flicker of something neither of them had been allowed to feel. Something they weren’t trained to name.

Desire? Maybe. Curiosity? Possibly. Recognition? Definitely.

Jay felt it ripple through him, up his spine, and through his chest. Like thunder in his bones. Like he’d been chasing this moment without knowing it for years.

He didn’t touch Jack; he didn’t speak. But he didn’t move either.

And Jack? Jack was staring at him with the same storm behind his eyes. Breathing through his mouth. Not moving. Not blinking.

Don’t do this, Jay’s mind screamed.

But something deeper whispered, Too late.

Later, when Jeff asked him what had happened, Jay would try to explain. “It was like… the butterfly effect,” he’d mutter, frustrated. Like the moment that changed everything but felt inevitable.

Jack would never forget it either.

That night, in his room, staring at the ceiling, he whispered to himself:

“The world stood still. Like we weren’t enemies. Like we weren’t anything but… human.”

The sirens faded, and the police had left.

Reality returned. And with it, the fear.

They pulled apart instantly, as if burned. As if being seen too clearly in that moment had exposed something neither of them was ready to admit.

They left through separate exits. With separate crews. Wearing masks of indifference and confusion. Pride in one pocket. Panic in the other. But neither of them slept that night.

Back at the mansion, Jay paced his bedroom floor.

The ice in his untouched drink had melted completely.

His father’s voice echoed in his head:

“Love is a liability.”“A man in love is already halfway dead.”

He told himself, "Jack is the enemy." His family ruined yours. This is a trap. This is weakness. This is pure madness.

But none of it mattered. His hands still trembled. His body still burned.

His mind still repeated one name:

Jack.

Across the city, Jack lay fully dressed on top of his bed, his shoes still on, staring into the darkness.

He hadn’t felt something that real since her. Since Joy.

And Joy nearly destroyed him.

“Don’t be stupid,” he told himself.

Don’t make that mistake again.

But Jay’s voice still rang in his ears.

That anger. That closeness. Those eyes.

For the first time in years, Jack felt alive.

And for the first time in his life, he was terrified of what that meant.

Two heirs of rival empires. Two hearts trained to hate.

Lying in different beds, in the same city, under the same stars.

And thinking the same thing.

What if?

Jay had a pickup to do.

Ammunition imported from Korea. There should be no room for mistakes.

He and his crew arrived just after midnight in Chiang Mai’s outskirts, an abandoned dock turned black market depot. The warehouse stood like a sleeping beast, quiet and cold.

Jay stepped out of the SUV, his boots echoing on cracked concrete. Jeff and the men followed, silent and armed. Their eyes scanned shadows. Guns were already drawn. Jay lit a cigarette. “Let’s make this quick.”

Then, headlights. Another SUV. It was just as sleek. and just as armed as Jays'

Doors opened. Footsteps.

And then. Him... jack!!!

The spark from the casino hit harder this time. And Jay hated it. He hated how his heartbeat increased rapidly.

Jack looked just as surprised. Or maybe not. Maybe he expected him.

Of course, Jack muttered. It’s you.

Jay scoffed. Don’t tell me this is your delivery.

It is. Or was. Until i saw you and