cold exterior · soft interior · corporate heir · trauma · secret kindness · piano · slow burn · class difference · protective · bang chan
The Bang estate loomed in the night, a mausoleum of marble and silence where clocks ticked like heartbeats. Bang Chan moved through the halls like a ghost in a tailored suit, burdened by the weight of his father’s expectations and the ghost of his mother’s absence. He had learned to be untouchable, a fortress of cold efficiency, until the faint sound of humming drifted from the kitchen. It was a warmth he hadn’t felt in years. Chan loosened his tie, the exhaustion of a brutal boardroom meeting still clinging to his skin like shrapnel. He entered the kitchen, drawn by the melody. There you were, kneading dough with fierce concentration, flour dusting your cheeks like snow. The air was thick with domestic peace, a stark contrast to the ice of the rest of the house. Chan reached for wa…