The neon lights of Bangkok bled into the night like wounds that never
Rain slicked the pavement, coating the city in a film of danger and decay.
In the heart of an elite but hidden club on Charoenkrung Road, Kael Virayakorn sat in the VIP section, his body relaxed but his eyes sharp.
The son of the Virayakorn mafia empire didn't relax easily — especially not tonight.
Across the table sat Jakrit, a low-tier crime boss trying to punch above his weight. The man sipped expensive whiskey like he belonged here, as if this backroom deal would elevate him to Kael's level. But Kael wasn't impressed. He was calculating. Cold.
"We want thirty percent more," Jakrit said with a smirk, tapping his glass. "For protection, delivery, and silence."
Kael's jaw flexed. "Thirty percent more? For weapons you don't even own yet?"
"It's inflation, Kael," Jakrit replied smoothly. "Plus, you're short on men after that warehouse mess last week."
Kael's fingers drummed slowly against the crystal. "Is that a threat?"
"A fact."
Kael leaned forward slightly. "Then here's a fact for you: I don't renegotiate."
Jakrit opened his mouth to respond—but he never got the chance.
Gunfire erupted.
The room shattered into chaos.
Two of Kael's guards were hit instantly. Another lunged in front of him, taking a bullet to the chest. Kael dove sideways behind the leather sofa, yanking his Glock from his holster. Smoke and screams filled the club. Waitresses dropped trays and ran. Guests screamed, fleeing through the emergency exits.
Jakrit was already gone.
Kael cursed under his breath, rolling toward the side corridor. His driver was dead. The SUV out front was ablaze. This wasn't a failed negotiation.
This was a setup.
He bolted through the kitchen, shoved open the back door, and ran into a narrow alley.
Rain pelted his white shirt. Blood was smeared on his sleeves — not his own. Behind him, the club burned with betrayal. Kael clutched his weapon, eyes darting. He had no backup. No car. Just the feel of wet concrete under polished shoes and the throb of adrenaline in his ears.
He turned the corner—
—and slammed into a stranger.
The man didn't move.
Drenched from the rain, wearing a dark green jacket and combat boots, he was slouched against a rusting vending machine. Black hair matted to his forehead. A cigarette hung from his mouth. He looked like a man who'd fought life to a draw and was waiting for round two.
"Move," Kael snapped.
The man didn't flinch. He looked past Kael.
Three men burst from the alley behind, knives and iron rods in hand.
"Friends of yours?" the stranger asked lazily.
Kael raised his gun, but the thugs were too close. The stranger reacted faster.
Boom.
A knee cracked the first attacker's ribs. Then a sweeping leg kick, a backhanded elbow, and a head slam into the wall. The third man barely blinked before a steel-toed boot caught his jaw.
Kael stared, stunned. Three men groaning at the stranger's feet.
The stranger lit another cigarette.
"You payin' me for that?" he asked.
Kael's brows lifted. "You always hit that hard for strangers?"
"I'm broke," the man said, exhaling smoke. "I hit whoever makes noise near my apartment."
Kael narrowed his eyes. "What's your name?"
"...Ryuu. Ryuu Thanawan."
That name rang in Kael's mind. His older brother Thay used to rave about some underground fighter with reflexes like lightning. Ryuu was famous in Bangkok's illegal rings — if this was the same man, he was more valuable than any suit-wearing bodyguard.
"Alright, Ryuu," Kael said. "You're coming with me."
"I don't follow strangers."
"I'm not asking."
⸻
They took the back roads, Ryuu leading Kael through alleys and side paths. His neighborhood was the kind of place the Virayakorns wouldn't send even a spy — too broken, too raw. They ended up in a cramped, aging apartment building two stories above a run-down mechanics' garage.
Inside, Ryuu's apartment was small, cluttered, but clean.
Kael leaned against the chipped wall. "You fight like a soldier."
"I fight like someone who grew up in slums," Ryuu replied. "Soldiers have rules."
A door creaked.
A teenage boy peered out, rubbing his eyes. "Ryuu? Who's that?"
"Go to bed, Rei," Ryuu said softly. "Just some rich idiot in trouble."
The boy nodded sleepily and retreated.
Kael raised a brow. "Your brother?"
"Yeah. He's all I've got."
Kael nodded once. He saw it now — the fierce protectiveness under Ryuu's sarcasm. The loneliness. It mirrored his own. Different world, same emptiness.
"I'll pay you ten times what this dump costs in a year," Kael said suddenly. "Come work for me."
Ryuu blinked. "What?"
"I need a bodyguard. You need money. I saw what you did back there. You could've run — but you stayed."
Ryuu folded his arms. "I don't like rich brats who think they can buy people."
"Good," Kael replied. "I'm not asking you to like me. Just protect me. Do that, and you and your brother never go hungry again."
Ryuu didn't answer immediately.
He looked toward Rei's closed bedroom door.
Then he said: "I want full cash up front. No loyalty games. If your people screw me over, I walk."
Kael extended his hand. "Deal."
Ryuu didn't shake it — but he nodded.
YOU ARE READING
KaelRyuu (BL Mafia Love Story)
Romance🌹 KaelRyuu -Love was never part of the mission, but he became the reason to survive. In a world ruled by bloodlines and betrayal, Kael Virayakorn was born into power-heir to the most feared crime family in Asia. Groomed to lead but secretly yearnin...
