Chapter 1

Ryan Kritsana , the youngest son of a powerful business family, Ryan has always been the charming one—good with people, terrible with pressure. He’s intelligent but avoids responsibility like it’s a bad perfume. He would rather flirt through a meeting than sit still in one. Parties, rooftop brunches, and sarcastic comebacks are his comfort zone. His tousled dark hair, bright eyes that flash with mischief, and his smirk that makes people both irritated and intrigued.

Despite his outward rebellion, Ryan carries the quiet weight of family expectations. Deep down, he’s scared of being caged by a life he didn’t choose.

At twenty-five, he had everything most people dreamed of - Looks, wealth, charm but all he wanted was to be left alone. His life was a rhythm of brunches, rooftop parties, and half-hearted attempts at business school. His parents wanted him to handle their company, but he was more interested in enjoying his youth.

He was lounging in his apartment, halfway through a movie, when he got the message: Dinner at home. No excuses.

At home

Ryan kicked off his shoes with practiced flair, letting them land somewhere near the entryway of the family’s sprawling penthouse. He was still humming the tune of a pop song from the party he left early, lazily undoing the buttons of his silk shirt.

Then he walked into the living room—and stopped dead.

His parents were seated on the couch, formal and far too still. His older brother stood beside them, arms crossed like he was preparing for war.

Ryan’s heart sank.

He tried to backtrack. “Oh no. No no no. This is not a good pose. You all look like I crashed my own intervention.”

His mother smiled thinly. “Sit down, Ryan.”

Ryan sat at the long Kritsana dining table, poking at roasted duck while his mother watched him like a hawk.

“So,” she said with that smile that meant danger, “we’ve made a decision.”

Ryan raised an eyebrow. “We?”

His father cleared his throat. “It’s time you take your place seriously. And part of that means aligning with the right family.”

Ryan blinked. “Wait. Are you saying—”

“You’re getting engaged.”

Ryan shot a look at his father. "No I'm not"

" Yes you are" His father said simply"You're twenty-five. You’ve had your fun. It's time you learned the ropes of the company, and it’s time you settled down. The Rachanons are reliable partners."

“The Rachanon family.”

Ryan stared. Then laughed. “You’re marrying me off to them? What are we, medieval nobles?”

“They’ve agreed,” his mother continued, ignoring his sarcasm.

His brother clasped his hands together. “It’s time you learned how to take responsibility. The company will be yours someday—”

"I've never agreed to that!”

“Which is exactly the problem,” his father snapped. “You’ve coasted long enough. This is the first step.”

“I don’t want to ,” he shot back, pacing now. “I want to live my life! I want to choose who I marry, if I even want to marry.”

“Too late,” his brother said. “It’s already in motion.”

Ryan turned, fury and disbelief bubbling under his skin. “Who is it?”

A pause.

“You’ll meet them soon,” his father said, final as a slammed door.

Ryan stared at them, lips parted. “You won’t even tell me?”

“It’s someone suitable,” his mother said gently. “Someone who won’t tolerate your games.”

Great, he thought. That sounded awful.

He stormed toward his room, muttering, “This is ridiculous. I’m not getting married.”

But even as he slammed the door behind him, Ryan had the sinking feeling that the decision had never really been his to make.

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