Johan's POV

The gala was exactly what I expected—boring.

Overdressed people, overpriced drinks, and pointless conversations. I had barely stepped inside before I was bombarded with fake smiles and empty pleasantries.

I ignored most of them, making a beeline for the bar. That's when I spotted Dr. Tonfah Jansuppakitkun, standing by one of the high tables, clearly trying to avoid conversation.

I smirked and made my way over. "Didn't think I'd see you here, Dr. Tonfah."

Tonfah barely glanced at me before taking a sip of his drink. "Didn't think you would show up on time."

I scoffed. "I'm always on time. Just selectively punctual."

Tonfah snorted. "Right."

I grabbed a glass from a passing waiter, leaning casually against the table. "So what's your excuse for being here? Decided to finally embrace high society?"

He shot me a look. "I was invited as a guest speaker. Unlike you, I actually contribute something useful to this event."

I placed a hand over my heart. "That almost sounded like an insult."

Tonfah exhaled through his nose, not quite a laugh but close. "If you have to ask, then yes."

I chuckled, taking a sip of my drink. "Alright, fine. How long do we have to endure this before we can leave?"

"Officially? Until the speeches and donation segment are done," Tonfah said, glancing at his watch. "Unofficially? As soon as I finish this drink and find a reasonable excuse to disappear."

I grinned. "Ah, and people call me a bad role model."

Tonfah rolled his eyes but didn't deny it.

I was about to suggest an early escape plan when a familiar figure walked in.

I knew who it was instantly.

Easter Jittangkul.

And despite telling myself he wasn't worth my attention, my eyes still followed him.

Gone was the white coat, the calm, professional demeanor of the vet who had barely spared me a glance. Instead, he was dressed in an all-black suit, looking both polished and adorably out of place.

Soft fabric, slightly loose glasses, tousled brown hair—he had this effortless look about him that didn't belong in a room full of pretentious businessmen. And yet, he fit.

He wasn't nervous, wasn't looking around like he was out of place. He was just... there, sipping his drink, looking as unbothered as ever.

And then, as if sensing my stare, he looked up.

Our eyes met.

I smirked.

He blinked.

And then—he turned away.

Turned. Away.

Like he hadn't just locked eyes with one of the most powerful businessmen in the room.

"Earth to Johan," Tonfah's voice cut through my thoughts. "You just completely zoned out."

Tonfah followed my gaze and let out a small laugh. "Oh, Easter?"

I narrowed my eyes. Oh, Easter?

"You know him?" I asked, tilting my head slightly.

Tonfah placed his glass down. "Yes, I know him. We've met at a few events. He's friends with Typhoon—they were in the same photography club."

I frowned slightly. I didn't know why it irritated me that Tonfah knew him first.

Before I could say anything, Tonfah raised his hand in a casual wave. "Easter!"

I watched as Easter's gaze shifted, and for the first time tonight, he actually smiled.

At Tonfah.

Not at me.

I took a slow sip of my drink, watching as Easter made his way over.

"Phi Tonfah," Easter greeted with a polite nod, his tone much friendlier than when he spoke to me.

He called him Phi Tonfah?!

I blinked, barely masking my surprise. That polite, almost warm tone—where was that when he spoke to me?

Tonfah grinned. "Didn't think I'd see you here."

"I was invited on behalf of the foundation," Easter explained. "I usually avoid these things, but it's for a good cause."

Tonfah nodded in approval. "Typhoon will be happy to hear you came. He wanted to come too, but he's stuck at a wedding shoot."

Easter chuckled. "That sounds like him."

They knew each other.

They were comfortable with each other.

And for some reason, that fact annoyed the hell out of me.

I leaned back slightly, swirling the liquid in my glass before cutting in. "Funny. You're a lot friendlier with him than you were with me."

Easter blinked at me, like he'd only just realized I was standing there. "Oh. You're here, Mr. Pichetshote."

Mr. Pichetshote.

I nearly scoffed. A few minutes ago, he'd called Tonfah Phi Tonfah like they were old friends. But me? I got stiff formality.

I raised a brow. "That's all I get? Just 'Oh, you're here'?"

Easter gave me a polite, but obviously forced smile. "Should I be more enthusiastic?"

Tonfah muffled a laugh behind his drink.

I smirked, deciding to take a different approach. "No need. I just thought maybe we could have a drink together." I gestured toward the bar. "Let me get you one."

Easter tilted his head slightly, considering. Then, with a slight, innocent smile that didn't quite reach his eyes, he said, "I have to be up early to take care of actual important clients."

Tonfah actually choked on his drink.

I stared at Easter, caught somewhere between amusement and disbelief.

Did this cute little vet just turn me down?

Tonfah recovered first, clapping me on the shoulder. "I think he just put you in your place."

I chuckled, tilting my head at Easter. "I'm starting to think you enjoy rejecting me, doctor."

Easter only hummed, completely unfazed. "I enjoy my peace. If rejecting you happens to be part of that, then so be it."

Damn.

Cute and sharp-tongued.

I watched as he excused himself, turning back toward the bar.

Tonfah took another sip of his drink, watching me with a knowing grin, clearly entertained.

I exhaled, shaking my head with a smirk, acting like it didn't bother me.

Like this little doctor hadn't just gotten to me.

And yet, my eyes were still following him.

I forced myself to focus, shifting my attention back to the party—back to where it was supposed to be.

I did what I was supposed to do.

I mingled. Talked business. Nodded along as executives droned on about market trends and potential partnerships. I smirked at predictable jokes, shook hands with people whose names I'd forget by tomorrow, and answered the usual questions about my company's next big move.

But every now and then, my eyes drifted back to him.

Easter Jittangkul.

He wasn't trying to stand out. He wasn't even really engaging in conversation. I caught glimpses of him exchanging polite words with a few people, but they never lasted long. He didn't seem interested in networking or making an impression.

No—he had much more important things to do.

Like standing by the buffet table and eating his way through the dessert section.

I watched as he picked up a small pastry, took a bite, and—just for a fraction of a second—his entire expression lit up.

It wasn't just the usual satisfaction of good food. It was pure happiness.

His lips curled into a bright, carefree smile, eyes crinkling slightly at the corners. He looked completely at ease, as if the dull, pretentious gala around him didn't exist. Just him and his dessert.

I felt something—something I didn't care to name—tug in my chest.

Cute.

The word slipped into my mind before I could stop it.

I exhaled, swirling the liquid in my glass, watching as he grabbed another dessert with zero hesitation. This time, tiny dimples appeared on his cheek—right at the corners of his mouth. Subtle, but there. The kind of detail you wouldn't notice unless you were paying attention.

And apparently, I was.

Too much.

"What do you think, Mr.Pichetshote?"

I blinked, barely managing to shift my attention back to the conversation happening beside me. Some executive was talking about expansion plans, looking at me like I was supposed to have an opinion.

I smirked, giving a noncommittal response that was just smooth enough to sound engaged. It worked, because the conversation moved on without question.

Then the microphone crackled, and the host's voice echoed through the ballroom.

"Ladies and gentlemen, before we continue, we have a special surprise for you."

The lights dimmed, and a large screen turned on at the front of the room. Conversations faded as people turned their attention to the screen. A familiar face appeared—Dr. Hill Ketprapakorn.

I exhaled. Of course.

The audience murmured in recognition.

Hill wasn't just well-known—he was untouchable. One of the youngest and most sought-after neurosurgeons in the world, making headlines for pioneering surgical techniques and saving lives like it was just another Tuesday.

Predictable as ever, Hill—dressed in his white coat, seated in what was clearly a hospital office—offered the same composed, easy smile I'd seen a thousand times before.

"Good evening, everyone," Hill's voice came through crystal clear. "I wish I could be there tonight, but unfortunately, duty calls."

The host chuckled. "That's right. Dr. Hill is currently overseas handling a critical surgical case. Would you mind sharing a little about it, Doctor?"

Hill nodded. "I'm in Switzerland at the moment, assisting with a rare and complex brainstem procedure. The patient is a child with an inoperable tumor that most hospitals turned away. Our team is attempting a new approach that could change how we treat similar cases in the future."

The room filled with impressed murmurs.

I sighed, sipping my drink. Classic Dr. Hill.

Beside me, Tonfah stood with his arms crossed, watching the screen with a neutral expression. He wasn't surprised. Neither was I.

We had known Hill since college—back when it was the four of us.

Me, Tonfah, Hill, and Arthit.

Four rich kids in med school, each with our own reasons for being there. Some were born for it. Some weren't.

Tonfah and Hill? They were top students. The type professors always expected the best from.

Me and Arthit?

We didn't last.

I had barely made it through a year before realizing I didn't belong there. Medicine wasn't my battlefield—I was better at deals and negotiations, at building something from nothing. So I left and built my own empire.

Arthit stuck around longer, but he never wanted to be a doctor. His heart was somewhere else—on a stage, in a recording booth, behind a microphone. By the time he dropped out, his music career was already taking off. Now? He was one of the biggest global artists in the industry.

We all took different paths, but somehow, we stayed friends.

Soon, Hill's speech wrapped up—expressing his gratitude for the event, promising to visit once he was back in the country, signing off with the same effortless confidence he'd always had.

The screen faded to black. The applause followed.

I turned back toward the buffet.

But the little doctor was gone.

My brows furrowed.

Just moments ago, he had been standing there, completely immersed in his desserts, looking like he had no plans of leaving anytime soon.

Now, his spot was empty.

I scanned the room, but he was nowhere in sight.

My fingers tapped against my glass.

For some reason, that bothered me more than it should.

"Johan," a sultry voice purred beside me.

I barely turned before I caught sight of a woman in an elegant black dress, her manicured fingers trailing along the rim of her champagne glass.

"I was hoping to see you tonight," she said, stepping closer. "It's been a while."

I knew her. What was her name again? Mai? May? Something like that. We had met at a few events before. She was very attractive—the kind of woman who expected men to fall over themselves for a chance at her attention.

I gave her a practiced smirk. "Good to see you too."

Her eyes gleamed. "I was just thinking... these events can get so dull. Maybe we could slip away somewhere quieter?"

I barely heard her.

My gaze had already flickered past her shoulder, scanning the room again.

Where the hell did he go?

"Johan?" She tilted her head, clearly expecting me to respond.

I exhaled sharply, already bored. "Not tonight."

Disappointment flashed across her face before she quickly masked it with a coy smile. "Another time, then."

I didn't answer. I was already stepping past her, setting my drink down on a nearby tray.

Because I had somewhere else to be.