33. Revelation

Kit resists the temptation to check his outgoing calls for the umpteenth time. He drums his fingers on the steering wheel as the driveway gate slides open, then wraps his fingers around his coffee cup instead. The last time he’d been to Bel’s place was to give information, rather than receive it. But then, so many things had been different last time.

Bel’s morning call had caught Kit off guard. Usually, the two of them only communicated through LINE, so when Bel calls, it’s important. He’d invited Kit for dinner, and said it would be worth his while. Bel talked funny sometimes, but that’s not something Kit would say aloud. Not if he didn’t want his anatomy rearranged.

Kam opens the front door and gives his older brother the once over. “Is that a strawberry latte?”

Kit’s answer is a raised brow. “Are you still drinking that fake coffee shit?”

“It’s called Crio Bru!” Bel yells from the kitchen. “And it’s delicious!”

Kit smirks as he steps into the front room. Teasing Bel was always fun. The setting sun casts long shadows across the decor, which reflects the presence of two occupants now—Bel’s overflowing bookshelves stand beside Kam’s childhood model cars. The furniture balances chic and comfort, much like the men who live there.

Bel comes out of the kitchen with a mug of Crio Bru in one hand and his phone in the other. “You sure you don’t want some?”

Kit makes a face. “Do I want fake coffee or something with actual flavor?”

“Have you ever tried it?” Kam retorts, offering his own cup.

Kit gives Kam the finger as he takes a seat opposite him. Bel sits too but only for a second. He gets up, goes into the kitchen, and comes back with a king-size KitKat, which he drops on the coffee table before resuming his seat. The air is thick with unspoken tension. Every so often, Bel glances at his phone, then the clock, then Kam’s watch, and back to his phone.

The fifth time he does this, Kam gives him a look. “You do know the US is eleven hours behind us right? Nina won’t call until she’s awake.”

“Of course I know that!” Bel rounds on his boyfriend. “I spent half my life there, remember?”

Kit checks his watch. “It’s seven a.m. over there now. How do you know she has solid information and not something that will lead to another dead end?”

“For your information, I forwarded everything you gave me to Nina.” Bel retorts. “And this morning she texted that she found something. So just eat your KitKat and wait til she calls.”

Kit shrugs and opens the KitKat. It’s pink. “You got me a strawberry KitKat?”

“Just eat it.” Over his boyfriend’s head, Kam casts his older brother an apologetic look.

Anticipation thickens the air. The only sounds are the rattle of the candy wrapper and Bel’s nervous drumming of fingers on the coffee table, which stops when his phone vibrates. A name flashes across the screen: NINA.

“It’s her!” Bel scrambles for the phone.

“Put it on speaker.” Kit leans forward in spite of himself.

Bel nods as he hits the speaker button. “Nina?”

“What shithole did you fall into this time?” A rough male voice cuts in.

Kit tenses at the sound. The last time he’d heard that voice was during an uncomfortable conversation two months ago. Ninety-five missed calls, Silo. Ninety-five. And Bel’s is the one you answer?
Kit exhales through his nose as the lines from a song drift through his head, lyrics that had stayed with him since the last time he’d let himself think about Silo. “Long nights, daydreams, sugar and smoke rings, I've been a fool…”
But he pushes the memories away. He’s here to focus on the case, not the past that keeps resurfacing. Not the taste of strawberries or cigarettes lingering on his mind, even when Silo wasn’t around.
“Silo!” Bel squalls, his eyes on the phone rather than Kit. “I’m not the one in trouble this time, I swear. I’m just—doing Kit a favor. He’s here, you can ask him yourself.”
“Are you?” Silo sounds amused, ignoring Bel’s invitation to address Kit. “Or did you just decide to play detective again? And why choose OmniVentures?”
“I didn’t choose it!” Bel blows out a frustrated breath. “Someone else did. Or was assigned to it, or whatever.”
“Yeah? Who might that be?” Silo enjoys teasing Bel as much as everyone else does.
“Interpol.” It’s Kit who answers the question. “Official investigation this time, on both the company and the CEO. We’ve got circumstantial evidence for just about every crime a businessman can commit, but nothing concrete to tie it all together. Not yet anyway.”
“So there’s finally enough evidence to take down that shark.” Silo mutters. Kit isn’t sure if that cold note in Silo’s voice is directed at him or Chalam or both. “Who’s case is it?”
Kam hesitates. “Silo—”
“I’m not going to fly back and take over,” Silo pushes. “I’m just curious who they assigned this to.”
Kam and Kit exchange glances before Kam responds. “Jet Saetangmasawat.”
“Oh.” Silo takes a minute to process this information. “Is that why you called Nina and not me? Because my ex-boyfriend is taking the lead?”
A spasm crosses Kit’s face at Silo’s words, and he bites into his KitKat to cover it.
“They called me because you’re supposed to be on vacation.” A female voice cuts in on Silo’s end of the line. “And I’m making sure you actually take one.”
Bel’s sister doesn’t sound at all like him. Kit wouldn’t be surprised if she’d been up hours before now, going over whatever case files she was allowed to take home that week. Cool, brisk, businesslike—Nina is a workaholic.
“Bel, your sister’s harassing me.” Silo doesn’t sound at all harassed.
“I’m sorry.” And Bel doesn’t sound the least bit sorry. “I also called her instead of you because apparently, you don’t answer phone calls.”
Kit glares at him over the half finished KitKat. Bel shrugs, and there’s silence on the other end of the phone for a minute.
“You told Bel you found something.” Kam is the one who breaks the silence.
“Dead ends to start with. OmniVentures is very good at covering their tracks, which is why the CIA needed to investigate from another angle.” There’s a shuffling of papers on the other end of the line before Nina speaks again. “Several years ago, one of our people contacted one of yours—I’m naming no names—and asked for a collaboration.”
“A collaboration between the CIA and Interpol.” Kit leans forward, his interest peaked. “To investigate OmniVentures.”
“Correct.” There is more rustling on Nina’s side of the line. “The report I found doesn’t go into too many details, but apparently two civilians were asked to participate in an undercover operation to infiltrate OmniVentures. The agents who were their handlers lost contact after about four weeks, no calls, no emails, nothing. Then—”
“Who were the civilians?” Kit breaks in. He’s never liked the exposition parts of getting briefed. “Do you know their names?”
“Anada and Kanok Saetangmasawat.” It’s Silo’s voice who answers, low and quiet. Kit’s pulse rate stutters. “Jet’s parents. Background check confirmed that.”
“They worked for one of the smaller companies that OmniVentures took over, and were supposed to report on any suspicious activities they found.” Nina elaborates. “They disappeared before they could find anything concrete, and the investigation into their disappearance is still open. At least, it is on our end.”
“Jet’s parents died in a car accident when he was nine.” Puzzle pieces are clicking together in Kit’s head. “This might explain why.”
“If you can tie Chalam to the car accident, that’s a murder charge.” Excitement is building in Bel’s voice. “But that also means they were onto something. Otherwise, why would Chalam want to get rid of them?”
“It’s hard to say.” Nina’s voice is tinged with caution. “But if they disappeared that quickly—”
“That gives Chalam a personal motive,” Kit cuts in. “For premeditated murder. That’s something even the best legal team can’t easily talk themselves out of. Can you send me those files?”
“You’ll share.” Nina makes it a command, rather than a suggestion.
“I’ll send you what we have.” Kit reassures her, hoping the sincerity is clear in his voice. “Thank you, Nina. I mean it.”
“Hey, Kit.” Silo breaks in.
This is the first time Silo has addressed him directly.
Kit swallows, fighting the uptick in his heart rate. “Yeah?”
“Stop calling me.” Silo ends the call without saying anything else.
Kit flinches at the sound of the line abruptly disconnecting. He stares at the phone’s dark screen, rather than the faces of Bel and Kam. He doesn’t want their sympathy, doesn’t need it—at least, that’s what he tells himself. It’s easier than facing the truth: Silo’s indifference stings like an open wound.
“Rude.” Bel speaks just to fill the silence.
Kit smiles at him. “Deserved.”
“Blue eyes, black jeans, Lighters and candy, I've been a fool, but strawberries and cigarettes always taste like you…” The lyrics flutter through his mind, uninvited, as if his subconscious was mocking him with a memory that refused to die.
Bel is still watching him. “Want another KitKat?”
Kit manages a half-smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. He let himself dwell on the past. Not now. Not when the present was already complicated enough. When Bel goes back into the kitchen, Kit pulls out his phone, deciding to text, rather than call.
KIT: How’s your brother?
JET: Alive, no thanks to his own idiocy. Em says he just needs a full detox and observation and he can be discharged after that.
KIT: That’s good to hear. Listen, I found some important information about Chalam. And your parents. If I send you an address, can you meet me there?
JET: You can’t tell me over the phone?
KIT: Better I tell you in person. Sending you the address.
JET: Give me fifteen minutes.
Kit slides his phone back into his pocket with a sigh. It will be easier to tell Jet in person, and easier still if he’s got Kam and Bel to back him up. Especially if Jet decides to blow a gasket.

◼️◼️◼️◼️

Jet grips the steering wheel tighter than necessary as he pulls up to Kam and Bel’s house. His hands ache, his brain feels like it’s been wrung out, and the world around him seems heavy and muted. The house’s lights spill out onto the driveway, a beacon of warmth and normalcy that contrasts sharply with the turmoil in his head.

His friend stands in the driveway, taut as a coiled spring, face twitching with tension rather than locked into its usual stoic expression. Kit never got rattled, which meant whatever was coming now couldn’t be good.

“Hey.” Kit can’t seem to figure out what to do with his hands. Or his feet—he’s rocking back and forth like he’s trying to brace himself.

Jet crosses his arms. “What’s this about?”

“We have to talk.” Kit gestures to the door behind him. The smell of green curry and Khao Tom tickles Jet’s nostrils. “Have you eaten? Bel’s cleaning up dinner but he’d be glad to heat up something for you.”

“Or if you don’t want food,” Kam’s voice sounds from the doorway. “We’ll get you a drink. You look like you need one.”

“Crio Bru or something stronger?” Jet’s grateful smile feels too stiff on his lips as he follows Kam into the house.

Bel sits on the couch, looking uncharacteristically tense, clutching a steaming mug in both hands like it’s his own personal lifeline. He exchanges a tense look with Kam, who disappears into the kitchen while Kit and Jet lower themselves into the armchairs. The heavy atmosphere in the room makes Jet’s stomach churn.

So?” Jet breaks the silence, leaning forward slightly. “What’s this about? Kit said you found something new.”

Kit exchanges a glance with Bel before he speaks. “We did. But before we get into that, there’s someone you should know about. Bel’s sister—Nina.”

Jet’s brows furrow. “Who?”

“Nina works for the CIA,” Kam cuts in, returning from the kitchen with a bottle of bourbon and three glasses. “She’s been helping us dig into some files connected to OmniVentures. We needed her insight because she had access to records we couldn’t get through Interpol.”

Jet blinks, trying to piece together the new information. He’d never even heard of Nina, let alone knew that she worked for the CIA. The connection between her, OmniVentures, and his parents feels like it’s spreading out before him in a web he doesn’t fully understand yet.

Bel shifts beside Jet, sitting up straighter. “Nina found a CIA report about your parents, from before they went undercover at OmniVentures. The official story is that they were recruited to investigate suspicious activities tied to Chalam, the CEO. They were supposed to relay information back to their handlers, but—” he hesitates, his expression tightening, “they lost contact after four weeks.”

The room feels like it’s closing in on Jet as the words sink in. Four weeks. Four weeks and then… nothing. “I think I’ll take that bourbon now.”
Kam fills a glass and slides it across the table. Jet knocks it back, but the burn of the alcohol does nothing to calm the darkness swirling inside him.
Kit continues, meeting Jet’s gaze steadily. “The report doesn’t say what happened to them after that. But we think Chalam found out who they were—who they were working for. And when he did—”
“He had them killed.” Jet’s voice is a hiss, each word laced with fury. The ache in his chest ignites into a searing blaze. “That car accident wasn’t an accident. It was a damn execution.”
Jet’s fists clench, nails digging into his palms as he struggles to contain the storm inside him. “I should have seen this coming!” he erupts, shooting to his feet, his chair tipping over behind him with a loud thud. “What the hell kind of life is this? Just waiting for the next blow to fall? I should have done something sooner! I could’ve—”
“Don’t do this to yourself,” Kit interjects, reaching out to steady him.
“Why the hell not? It’s true! I was supposed to protect Kai, and now—” Jet’s voice breaks, the weight of guilt crashing over him like a wave. “What if I can’t? What if I fail him again?”
“Jet, listen—” This time Kam speaks, but Jet cuts him off too, his rage boiling over.
“No! You listen!” Jet roars, grabbing the nearest glass and throwing it against the wall. It shatters into a million pieces, each shard a representation of his fractured psyche. The sound reverberates through the room, a harsh reminder of his spiraling emotions. “I’m tired of this shit! Tired of pretending I can handle it! Chalam is a monster, and I’m so damn sick of being afraid!”
The silence that follows is thick with tension. Jet’s heart pounds in his chest, adrenaline coursing through him as he paces, each step a desperate attempt to ground himself. He stops and stares at Kam and Bel, their faces pale, expressions caught between shock and concern.
“What if he’s already targeting us?” Jet continues, voice rising with every word. “What if he’s just waiting for the right moment to strike? I can’t lose anyone else! Not again! What if I end up just like my parents? What if I’m too weak to protect the people I care about?”
“Don’t say that,” Kit warns, stepping closer, trying to reach him. “You’re not your parents. You’re not helpless. You have us. You have resources, information—”
“Yeah? And what the hell good is that if it doesn’t save us?” Jet interrupts, his voice laced with despair. “I don’t want to feel like this anymore! Like I’m just a pawn in that bastard’s sick game!”
“Then channel your anger,” Bel urges, his voice steady amidst the chaos. “Use it to protect those you love. Let us help you. That’s what family does. You’re not alone. Not now, not ever.”
Jet stares at the shattered remnants of his outburst, the embers of anger still smoldering within him. He can’t let fear consume him—not when Kai needs him, not when his family is at stake.
He won’t let himself fall without a fight.
Not again.








Read from beginning: "1. Ignored"