Guilty as Gorgeous | Chapter 14
Though the youngest daughter had been well-bred, her nature as a pampered, sweet-talking favorite—bolstered by two older sisters who constantly backed her up—had made her bold. They teased her, but in truth, they adored and indulged her to the point of spoiling her. With no one to hold her accountable, the traits of a 'villainess' only flourished with age.
"I was going up, but then I remembered I had to come down and help Mother close the gate." The youngest daughter put on a playful face, then turned to look at the guest with a look of 'wicked' innocence. "Are you leaving now, Madam Khaekhai? I'll go open the gate for you."
"How nice. The children in this house seem to love each other very much."
"We only have each other, after all. Mother taught us to love one another deeply," the young girl answered sharply.
"I suppose that's good. But she should also teach you to have respect for your elders and to know right from wrong."
"Mother taught us that as well. But I believe children these days respect elders based on their conduct and virtue, rather than just their age. Right and wrong are matters of upbringing mixed with one's innate nature. Sometimes, you just can't teach it."
"Such insolence! Talking back at every turn!"
"I am merely informing you, Madam Khaekhai."
"If that's the case, then your sister's innate nature must be quite problematic."
"Madam Khaekhai, you are mistaken," Prayong interjected before the little villainess could open her mouth. She reached out to grasp her youngest daughter's shapely arm with a gentle outward appearance, but secretly pinched her hard enough to make the girl wince, though she made no sound.
"Strange that so many are mistaken, then. Where there's smoke, there's fire, isn't there?"
"The smoke probably exists because someone is intentionally fabricating news to damage P'Paan. I'd call it toxic fumes and the fire of envy. I'd think you would know more about that than anyone else, Madam Khaekhai."
"Are you accusing me?"
"There are no accusations being made. Please leave now, Madam Khaekhai," Prayong interrupted for the second time, pinching her daughter's arm even harder. "Nong Mai, apologize to the lady."
Suphanniga pursed her lips for a moment before making a face as she met her mother's gaze. Finally, she conceded, raising her hands in a wai as instructed, with a gesture that was neither too much nor too little.
"I apologize for my rudeness."
The recipient of the apology remained taut-faced. Given her dignity and status, she had never been talked back to by a child. Although she had reached middle age and possessed more self-control than in her past, along with many fine qualities, certain core traits remained difficult to eradicate.
Traits of arrogance, jealousy, and a biting sarcasm.
She refused to accept any explanation for a truth she had already decided to believe.
"I have no desire for an insincere apology. I'd much rather you tell Shanya to stop interfering with my family."
Suphanniga's eyes flared, but Prayong, who was already prepared, gripped her arm firmly and replied in a soft voice.
"If she were to cut off contact entirely, Mr. Bancha might misunderstand and think Paan is ungrateful. But I will warn my daughter to step back if it makes you uncomfortable."
"And what debt of gratitude does Mr. Bancha have over your daughter?"
"You had best ask Mr. Bancha that yourself, Madam Khaekhai."
The listener made a sharp sound in her throat. "Just an excuse because you can't explain it, I suppose. Girls these days are strange. They have beauty, fame, and earn money easier than most, yet they still want to do work that requires so little effort... like selling 'used goods'."
Having delivered her sting without waiting for a rebuttal, she opened the car door, sat inside, and drove off immediately. Furthermore, upon reaching the gate, she lowered her window to hurl the items on the front seat onto the middle of the road in front of the house, as if they were something loathsome. Prayong frowned at the sight.
The youngest daughter pouted, her eyes blazing with rage on behalf of both her beloved sister and her mother.
"That 'Auntie' human!" Suphanniga muttered under her breath before wailing, "Ow! Mom, you pinched me again!"
"I'll pinch you until you're covered in bruises if you keep up that sharp-tongued attitude."
"But she insulted P'Paan! She insulted you! At her age, throwing things like a toddler... now we have to be the ones to go pick them up."
"She is Mr. Bancha's wife. Our debt to him is immense. I will not have you being aggressive toward his family. You are the younger one; you should show honor and respect to your elders, not be so caught up in your principles that you respect no one."
"I am grateful to Uncle Bancha, but do we really have to endure his family members when they're the ones being terrible to us first?"
"We must, child. At the very least, out of gratitude, we shouldn't cause Uncle any trouble. Otherwise, as the man in the middle, he'll be distressed. Madam Khaekhai is mistaken; she is already suffering because of her own misunderstandings. Why must you add to her suffering, Mai?"
Suphanniga made a face, knowing the reasons behind the friction between Bancha and his wife, and the reason her eldest sister never told anyone about the relationship between their family and the married middle-aged businessman.
"But she insulted you and P'Paan. I can't stand it when it's not the truth at all."
"Precisely because it isn't the truth, we shouldn't take offense. You don't need to prove to anyone that we aren't everything they say, child. If a thousand people were to condemn you, would you have the time to explain it to every one of them?"
"I could explain it via a livestream nowadays. It only takes one go," the young girl grumbled, talking back under her breath.
"But it still wouldn't make everyone believe. The heart is the hardest thing to force. And what use would it be? In the end, you'd be trapped in your own ego until you forget that what others think of us is not as important as whether we are doing the right thing."
Silenced for a moment, the hot-blooded little villainess looked sheepish. she stepped forward to embrace her mother's waist, resting her head on Prayong's shoulder in a coddling gesture reminiscent of her childhood.
"I'm sorry, Mom."
Prayong said nothing, only sighing and stroking the girl's head before shooing her out to go retrieve the items.
Phutphitchaya stared at her manager with a look of utter disbelief after hearing about the 'new job' he had just finished describing.
"You're actually thinking of having me work for him, after the way he insulted me!?"
"Just look at it as a matter of business. Besides, an eight-figure sum isn't something people offer every day."
"I wouldn't do it even for nine figures. That man is a sexist; he thinks actresses are just playthings for the high society," the villainess sneered. "When I didn't give in, he thought he could bully me easily. If I take this job, he'll think I'm the kind of woman who can be bought."
"In your profession, everyone has to be 'bought' eventually." Wikrant corrected himself quickly upon seeing the actress's fuming expression. "I mean, buying services—er... selling talent, selling your name, that sort of thing. It's not 'that' kind of service."
"I'm not doing it!"
"A good opportunity like this isn't easy to find. I went out of my way to talk to the higher-ups to ask you to take this job."
"You should have talked to me before going to ask the Boss."
"Usually, you never decline work, and you trust me with everything."
"I used to think that way, it's true..."
Phutphitchaya said only that, using her body language to deliver a sharp, piercing stare at the man who was both her friend and manager until Wikrant quickly made excuses.
"I've read the contract. I guarantee that Mr. Wes won't interfere. He's a professional, Paan. I promise."
"And can you guarantee he won't interfere with me outside of work hours?"
The manager shot her a sharp look.
"Oh! Even if he does, you can just say no! But if anyone else found out, they'd call you a fool. Any young actress would be flapping her wings and spreading her tail feathers if they got his attention. He's handsome, rich, well-bred, and his career is top-tier. If you were lucky enough to marry him, it would be like a mouse falling into the Ministry of Commerce's grain silo."
"The one filled with rotten rice, you mean!?"
"Oh! This silo is the real deal, darling. Pure wealth. Otherwise, that 'Virtuous Leading Lady' wouldn't be trying so hard to catch him."
Wikrant pursed his lips to emphasize his final point.
"Leading lady?" Phutphitchaya narrowed her eyes.
"Your rival, of course..." He feigned a sigh but stole a glance at her. Seeing Phutphitchaya's furrowed brow and clear interest, he hurried to continue. "People have seen them together for a while now. But the inside word is that Mr. Wes hired her as the presenter for a new product that needs a roadshow. She's been seeking every chance to cozy up to him. It reminds me so much of your case with Mr. Anavil."
"Mr. Anavil is a gentleman, unlike this lecherous, handsy man. They might have already gone all the way, for all I know. The man doesn't know how to be faithful."
"I can guarantee—sitting, standing, lying down, even in the 'deer looking back' pose—that she hasn't had a taste of Mr. Wes yet."
"Were you at his bedside, then? How can you be so sure?"
Wikrant shot her a second sharp look.
"My sources are excellent, thank you very much. I used robot flies with cameras ordered straight from MI6. Word is Nisakorn wants him as her boyfriend so badly she's shaking. She's getting older; she's not as beautiful or famous as Aum Patcharapa. In Thailand, finding someone as perfect as Mr. Phanthakant is incredibly hard. But the snag is that Sia Bancha doesn't quite get along with him."
"Doesn't get along with Uncle Bancha?" This time, Phutphitchaya was truly interested. "He must not be a good person, then, if Uncle doesn't approve."
"Oh! No, darling. Don't go making random guesses. He just supports a different political party, and there happens to have been a lot of history before this. But you'd have to talk to my father; he knows all the good dirt because he's close to both sides. Besides, some of their business lines overlap. Whenever the Sia goes to bid somewhere, he usually runs into Mr. Wes. The latter gets more work; the Sia probably thinks Mr. Wes is playing dirty."
"Uncle doesn't slander people. If he suspects him, it means he's not a good man," the actress declared with finality.
"Have you forgotten, darling, that the Sia himself had a case that went to court before he was cleared?"
"Uncle was framed! He is an upright businessman," Phutphitchaya held her chin high, defending her benefactor with all her heart.
"If you asked someone close to Mr. Wes, you'd get the exact same answer."
"Why are you defending him and so desperate for me to work for this man? Do you not care at all that he harassed me?" She asked because she was truly suspicious. During the cases with Methas and Sia Maitree, Wikrant had gone after them both publicly and privately for a long while before relenting because the elders asked. Even then, he loathed those two men of different ages so much he'd called them by the name of a reptile that eats filth.
Therefore, if there was anyone Phutphitchaya believed would stand by her and protect her no matter what, besides her family and Bancha, it was this man, Wikrant.
"It's my Extra Sensory Perception, darling. I don't misjudge people," Wikrant said with full flourish. "What he did was an overstep because he was drunk... and you're just too irresistibly sexy. It's not my Mr. Wes's fault."
"Liar! Irresistibly sexy, my foot!"
"Fine, fine. I did some digging because I saw the chemistry between you and him and it made me swoon."
"Chemistry!?" Phutphitchaya's breath grew heavy, her face flushing hot. "He tried to force himself on me! It wasn't consensual!"