chapter 2

Ryan arrived at the Rachanon building with the attitude of a man walking into a dentist's office—unwilling, late, and fully prepared to bolt. His mother had insisted on a formal dinner with the “other family” to discuss wedding arrangements.

He hadn’t been told who he was marrying, but the name Rachanon sounded familiar.

He didn’t care enough to ask questions. All he knew was that he didn’t want to be there.

Dressed in a dark button-down, sleeves rolled up like defiance, Ryan stepped into the private dining room and froze.

There, already seated with the quiet grace of someone born to handle pressure, was Theo Rachanon.

Sharp suit. Calm posture. Eyes as unreadable as ever.

Ryan’s brain did a double take. “Wait. You?”

Theo glanced up at him, polite but clearly unsurprised. “Hello, Ryan.”

Ryan blinked. “Is this a joke? It must be right?.”

His mother, already seated beside Theo’s father, gestured toward an empty chair. “Sit down, Ryan.”

“I—wait. He’s the one? You want me to marry him?”

Theo’s brow twitched in faint amusement. “You sound offended.”

“I am,” Ryan said, flopping into the chair anyway. “We hated each other in high school.”

Theo replied smoothly, “Correction. You hated me. I simply tolerated you.”

Ryan turned to his mother in disbelief. “This is a trap.”

Theo’s father cleared his throat. “You’re both adults now. The past is irrelevant. What matters is the future of both our families—and how this marriage secures it.”

Ryan looked like he was going to explode. “You didn’t even tell me who it was. You just threw me in here and expected me to smile through it?”

“You’d have found a way to run,” his mother said simply.

Ryan looked at Theo and asked "So you're just fine with this?"

Theo watched him calmly, fingers folded on the table. “It's not my first choice, but I don't mind it."

Ryan scoffed. "Wow. Enthusiastic as ever."

Theo tilted his head slightly. “Better than throwing a tantrum like a child.”

The bite in his tone was subtle, but Ryan caught it—and suddenly, it felt like high school all over again. The whispered arguments in the back of the classroom. The sarcastic remarks during group projects. And now they were getting married?

Ryan folded his arms. “You’re not doing this just to spite me, are you?”

Theo didn't answer

Dinner continued under a blanket of tension, Ryan shifting in his chair while Theo remained still, professional, and—Ryan hated to admit it—obnoxiously composed.

As they stood to leave, Ryan leaned in, voice low. “This isn’t over.”

Theo glanced at him, a small smile at the corner of his lips. “Of course not. We haven’t even started yet.”

______

Ryan slouched in the conference room chair like it personally offended him. His shirt was untucked, tie hanging loose around his neck like a defeated accessory. He tapped a pen against the table, already bored out of his mind.

Theo walked in exactly on time—no surprise there—wearing a crisp white shirt and dark grey slacks. Polished. Immaculate. Every line of him sharp as precision.

He set a thick folder down in front of Ryan.

Ryan didn’t even look at it. “Is that homework? Because I thought I graduated from being tortured by paperwork.”

“It’s your crash course in professionalism,” Theo said smoothly, taking the seat across from him. “Consider it survival training. You’ll need it if you’re going to represent the Kritsana name in public.”

Ryan raised an eyebrow. “Oh, so you’re my tutor now? What happened to mutual suffering?”

Theo ignored the jab and flipped the folder open. “These are the basics—how to talk in meetings, how to read contracts, how to not make a fool of yourself in front of a room full of investors.”

Ryan groaned and leaned back. “Why does this sound like hell?”

“Because you avoid responsibility like it’s contagious.”

“That’s because it is,” Ryan shot back. “Besides, if I’m marrying you, isn’t that your job? You handle the smart stuff, I show up and look hot.”

Theo gave him a blank look. “We both know you’re too loud to be just a trophy husband.”

Ryan smirked. “So you have noticed I’m hot.”

Theo flipped the next page without responding. “Focus.”

For the next hour, Theo walked Ryan through formal greetings, deal negotiation etiquette, and how not to slouch during meetings. Ryan did all of them—with the worst attitude imaginable.

When Theo asked him to practice a firm handshake, Ryan added dramatic flair and winked.

When Theo told him to introduce himself like a professional, Ryan stood up and bowed like he was on a game show.

Theo finally sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Do you take anything seriously?”

Ryan, for once, quieted. He leaned forward slightly, smile fading just a little. “I’m here, aren’t I?”

Theo blinked, caught off guard.

“…Fine,” Theo said quietly. “We’ll try again tomorrow. And wear something that buttons all the way up.”

Ryan stood, stretching. “Wow. Two dates in a row? People are gonna talk.”

Theo didn’t answer. But as Ryan walked away—still teasing, still dramatic—Theo allowed himself a small, private smile.

Just a little one.

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