One of the younger recruits hesitated before stepping forward. "Boss, about the shipment—"
SLAM!
Lingling's hand shot out, sending a glass bottle crashing to the floor. The sharp sound echoed through the warehouse, and everyone immediately stiffened.
"Do I look like I care about the damn shipment right now?" Lingling snapped, her voice sharp and filled with venom.
The recruit swallowed hard and quickly took a step back. Even Alek, who had been leaning casually against a crate, straightened his posture.
Lingling was never gentle with her men, but today? Today, she was dangerous.
She clenched her fists, inhaling sharply, trying to shove down the storm raging inside her. But the harder she tried, the more the past clawed its way back to the surface.
Her father's voice. Cold. Cruel.
"You're too soft, Lingling. You embarrass me."
She was twelve when she saw her first execution. Her father had forced her to stand beside him as his men dragged a screaming man into the room. Blood stained the floor, the walls, and the tips of her father's polished shoes.
"Watch closely, Lingling," he had said, voice calm, as if he were teaching her math. "Weak men die like this."
The gunshot had rung in her ears for hours after. But what haunted her the most was the way her father had looked at her afterward.
No warmth. No pride. Just... indifference. Like she was nothing. And she had wanted so badly to be something to him.
So, she had done everything to please him. At fourteen, she pulled the trigger for the first time. At fifteen, she ordered her first execution. At sixteen, she had built a reputation that made grown men bow their heads in fear.
But no matter how much blood stained her hands, no matter how many bodies she left behind, her father never looked at her the way she wanted.
Never once said he was proud. Never once said he loved her. And now?
Now, Orm had come into her life, and suddenly, she felt that same desperate pull for something she had never been given.
Orm's approval. Orm's love.
She wanted Orm to look at her. To see her. Not as a monster. Not as someone to be feared. But as someone to be loved.
Lingling exhaled shakily, dragging a hand through her hair.
"I deserve to love, and to be loved" she thought bitterly.
She had lived her entire life without love. Had built an empire without anyone by her side. So why, why, was she crumbling over her?
Over a girl who didn't even want her? A girl who had chosen someone else? Lingling clenched her jaw.
While Orm, never liked rich people. Not because of their money, but because of what their money made them believe they could do.
As a kid, she had learned quickly that the wealthy didn't see people like her as equals. They saw her as entertainment, something to mock, something to crush under their expensive designer shoes.
She still remembered the first time she realized just how different her world was from theirs.
It was when she was nine.
Her sneakers were old, the soles worn down, but they were the only pair she had. She never cared about that until she walked into the classroom and heard the snickers.
"Look at her shoes."
"My maid's kid dresses better than that."
"Maybe she should beg on the street instead."
She had sat at her desk, hands clenched, face burning. She had told herself she didn't care. That words couldn't hurt her.
But then, one of the girls, the leader of the group, took it a step further.
That girl, Ploy, had been the daughter of some business tycoon. She had everything, new bags, the latest gadgets, and the kind of confidence that came from knowing money could get her out of anything.
Ploy had smirked at her, pulled out a crisp 100-baht bill, and dropped it onto Orm's desk.
"Here. Buy yourself something better. You look pathetic."
The laughter that followed had echoed in her ears for days.
That was the moment Orm had started to hate rich people.
Because to them, money meant power. And power meant they could do whatever they wanted—step on people, humiliate them, treat them like trash.
But there had been one exception.
Ying. Ying had been rich too, but she was different.
She had seen Orm, not as some poor girl to be pitied or mocked, but as someone worth protecting. Ying had been the one to stand up to Ploy. The one who had taken Orm's hand and dragged her away from all of it.
And that was why Orm had loved her. Why she still loved her. Because Ying had never made her feel small.
Unlike Lingling.
Lingling, who was now doing the very same thing those rich kids had done to her growing up.
Lingling, who was forcing her to stay, forcing her to obey, using her power, her money, her influence to make Orm feel trapped.
Orm had sworn to never let a rich person control her again. So why was she letting Lingling do this to her? Why was she still tied to her?
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