Multi Shot - LingOrm and FreenBecky

FREENBECKY - Fierce Attraction : Intersections Of Fate

The GPS on her phone directed her toward a private, gated area along the Chao Phraya River. Unlike her usual city haunts, this area exuded a distinct air of exclusivity: towering hedges, security checkpoints, and the occasional glimpse of sprawling, well-lit estates nestled along the water's edge.

Finally, she arrived at the grand gates of the Chankimha Mansion. The imposing iron-wrought structure gleamed subtly under strategically placed floodlights. A uniformed security guard stepped forward, gave a polite bow, and waved her through after confirming her identity. Becky felt her nerves flutter.

She still couldn't quite process the surreal fact that she was about to step into Freen Sarocha Chankimha's private domain—an invitation extended personally by the CEO herself.

The long driveway curved around meticulously manicured lawns, accented by low ornamental lights that created an ethereal glow. Becky caught sight of the sleek, modern lines of the mansion. Its bold architecture—expansive glass walls, sharp steel edges, and a blend of angular and organic landscaping—felt both commanding and quietly restrained, a reflection of its owner.

Near the entrance, a softly lit fountain trickled gracefully, adding a touch of serenity to the otherwise austere setting. Becky parked her car and took a moment to compose herself, brushing an errant strand of blonde hair from her face. If she hadn't known better, she might have thought she'd just driven onto the set of a high-budget drama.

The front doors, made of tinted glass framed with minimalist metal, loomed ahead. A discreet staff member, clad in a polished uniform, stepped forward to greet her.

"Ms. Armstrong, welcome," the woman said with practiced warmth. "Ms. Chankimha is waiting for you in the lounge. Shall I escort you?"

Becky nodded, her smile polite but restrained. "Thank you."

As she followed the staff member through the mansion's entrance, the interior took her breath away. The design was a seamless marriage of luxury and simplicity: polished marble floors, carefully curated modern art pieces, and soft, ambient lighting that created an almost dreamlike atmosphere. The open-plan layout allowed glimpses of the river beyond the glass walls, its surface shimmering with the reflections of the city's distant lights.

For a moment, Becky felt out of place in the ultra-modern space. Despite her own success and wealth, Freen's home was on a different level—both intimidating and undeniably elegant. It was so quintessentially Freen: controlled, immaculate, and impossible to ignore.

Her thoughts raced as she approached the lounge. This wasn't just a professional meeting; there was something more personal about it, even if Freen hadn't said as much. The text about a "family emergency" lingered in Becky's mind.

Was she about to see a crack in the Ice Queen's armor?

Did Freen trust her enough to reveal even a sliver of vulnerability?

The idea left Becky both apprehensive and oddly intrigued.

The staff member gestured toward a set of open glass doors leading into the lounge. "Ms. Chankimha is inside," she said with a slight bow before retreating discreetly.

Becky inhaled deeply and stepped through the doorway, her gaze immediately finding Freen.

The CEO stood near a floor-to-ceiling window, silhouetted against the glow of the river. 

She wore tailored slacks and a loose, silk blouse, her hair cascading freely over her shoulders. In this setting, away from the cold boardrooms and formal events, Freen looked different—still commanding, but more human, almost vulnerable.