Her Inconvenient Boss | Chapter 18
"I might be mistaken. It's better to wait for the investigation."
The sofa dipped slightly as her employer sank onto the plush cushion just inches away from her.
"The bastard slipped in through the front while the guard at the kiosk was in the restroom."
This building sat adjacent to the main road, fronted by a spacious garden and a two-lane driveway. Security was handled much like a hotel or a typical corporate office—a guard booth was stationed to have outsiders exchange ID cards and to facilitate the flow of vehicles with authorized stickers.
However, employees of Kent Industries, the various firms leasing office space, and permanent residents all possessed keycards to manually trigger the barrier or open the small side gate for pedestrians. This essentially meant an outsider could bypass the barrier if the booth was left unattended.
"The guard is back."
Unakarn spoke up, as the lobby was a glass-walled room, and rose to follow him out. The security guard looked startled upon seeing the Big Boss and hurriedly offered a salute.
"Mr. Chairman!"
"You didn't catch him?"
"He was as slippery as mercury, sir. I only saw a flash of his back as he left the premises. Once he ducked into the alley up ahead, I lost him."
"Have you ever seen his face before?"
"Never, sir. But I remember his build."
"Call in a relief guard. In a while, you'll need to go to the station with Korkrit to file a report. Let the police check the CCTV; they'll find him."
Shortly after he finished giving orders, the aforementioned driver emerged from the elevator to join them.
"Khun Watt, Khun Prae, please wait a moment. The lab staff are on their way. It should take no more than half an hour since they're nearby."
That night, Unakarn finally left the company nearly at 9:00 PM, after calling her sister to say she'd be home late.
"I'm stopping for dinner with a friend. The traffic is a nightmare today. You and Mother don't need to wait up."
"Not telling the family?" her employer, standing nearby during the inspection, asked as she hung up.
"It would only cause unnecessary worry. Besides, we don't know the motive yet," she murmured softly.
"It was indeed acid, Khun Watt," Korkrit walked over to report, accompanied by the company's lab technician. Every pair of eyes turned toward her.
Pol. Lt. Col. Tharit was the officer who arrived at the scene with a subordinate. Her employer had called him personally, as they were acquaintances and he happened to be in the area.
After inspecting the scene and gathering evidence, including the CCTV footage, the man requested to conduct a preliminary interrogation of Unakarn within the company, using a meeting room opened specifically for their convenience.
Yet, the woman who had nearly been doused in acid could provide little useful information.
"Statistically, acid attacks are almost always a matter of romantic jealousy or domestic disputes."
"I don't have a boyfriend, sir," the young woman said in a faint voice.
"Then someone who admires you, someone whose advances you've rejected, or someone you've had conflict with...?" He posed an open-ended question to prompt her memory.
Unakarn let out an inward sigh, fearing the trouble that would follow. But realizing this was no trivial matter, she decided to recount everything truthfully and in detail, maintaining neutrality and stripping away any personal emotion.
She concluded by showing the young inspector the video clip. "...I'm not certain if the woman P'Isara and she were discussing is me, sir."
"After I call the involved parties in for questioning, I'll need you to come down to the station again."
"I understand."
"Regarding security measures before we identify the culprit, I'll discuss with Watt how we can provide extra protection. But for tonight, the Sergeant and I will drive behind you to see you home safely."
Unakarn spent the long drive home weighing whether she should tell her family. But in the end, when she saw the faces of her mother and sister, the words wouldn't come. She decided it would be better to tell them once the perpetrator was caught.
Terrified by the string of misfortunes, she spent half the night ordering self-defense gear online and reading up on how to remain vigilant and prevent becoming a victim.
"Being a beautiful woman is truly dangerous. If that had hit her, it would be a living death."
Pol. Lt. Col. Tharit remarked to his friend and distant relative as they headed up to Wasawatt's penthouse together.
"Is it possible Isara did it out of spite because she's rejected him so many times?"
"How should I know?"
"From what she told me, that guy must be obsessed with her. I think she's telling the truth about him pestering her relentlessly," Tharit noted, reading her body language through the lens of theory and over ten years of investigative experience.
"True. Khun Nat and Ginny told me the same thing."
The young man handed a drink on the rocks to his friend and held one himself.
Although the accounts provided by the two women differed greatly, the core message was identical: Unakarn was the only woman Isara Lucknara had truly loved and waited for over several years.
'Ginny doesn't believe Isara didn't have anything going on with that girl.'
'If they did, and the man is clearly showing he wants to date her openly, why would she refuse him?'
'That, Ginny isn't sure of.' Ginjutha had tilted her chin up. 'But you might find the answer, Khun Watt, since that girl works in your own company. Who knows? That pair might have a deeper game than outsiders can see.'
Wasawatt understood perfectly what the socialite was implying, but he chose to avoid commenting.
"You're fairly close to Ginny. Do you think it was her?"
"Ginny nearly ran her over on her first day of work..." Wasawatt gave his friend a brief summary.
"Hey! Why didn't Khun Prae mention that when I asked?" Tharit exclaimed. "If an incident like that occurred, followed by her threatening Isara in that video, she becomes the prime suspect."
"Hmm..." The owner of the room offered a nod, staring into his glass as if it held a secret.
"And what about her safety? In case the culprit tries again, what do you want me to do?"
"I'll handle it. You just work the case."
"What's so special about her, anyway?"
Suddenly, the police officer blurted it out, his curiosity clearly piqued.
"What do you mean?"
"The kind of woman who can keep a womanizer like Isara chasing her for years. That guy has never stayed with anyone long except Ginny, and even with someone of her caliber, he cheated countless times."
"And how should I know?" the listener replied as before.
"One womanizer should recognize another's type. You ought to be able to tell."
The handsome man let out a heavy sigh, shooting a sharp, irritated look at his out-of-uniform relative. "Can't you find a better person to compare me to?"
"Sorry, sorry. I just meant the habit of changing women frequently."
"Wait until..." He downed half his glass in one go. "Wait until I find the answer. Then I'll tell you."
"...That is what she said, Khun Watt."
Natthawara reported the results after setting down the folder.
The tall, elegant figure reclined in his executive chair, legs crossed on a circular ottoman in a languid posture he often assumed when deep in thought. He glanced at his PA—who also doubled as a relative—in acknowledgement.
"Tell her to list the ingredients needed. Have Aunt On go buy them. She can come up to cook here after work. As for the service, let the housekeepers handle it. That should streamline the process, don't you think?"
The listener suppressed a smile. She knew most people saw Wasawatt Siwaratpakdee as a jovial, easygoing playboy. But few knew he had inherited certain traits from his mother: a meticulous lifestyle and a rather willful streak.
Rojana had served M.R.W. Warinrampai since her youth, followed her to the United States, and had been instrumental in raising Wasawatt from infancy through his teenage years and into manhood.
After his mother's remarriage to Tycoon Saratch, his stepfather had built a grand mansion as a gift for the stepson he loved as his own, asking Wasawatt to move in and help manage the family's diversified interests once the family decided to settle permanently in their homeland.
For the first year, all three lived together in the newly built mansion. Later, the Tycoon moved with his wife to an old palace in the heart of the city—land as valuable as gold. The sprawling palace grounds lay hidden behind ancient walls and a dense garden of century-old trees that shielded them from public view, surrounded by the concrete jungle of competing high-rises. The new mansion was left entirely to the son.
Rojana remained with M.R.W. Warinrampai as before and found a new head housekeeper for Wasawatt.
However, within a single year, the young man went through four housekeepers. He dismissed several cooks and servants, eventually prompting his mother to send Rojana back to supervise his household once more. The housekeeper's duty became strictly vetting and training new hires, as well as overseeing the kitchen—from ingredient selection to cooking—and often handling the meals herself. Only then did the domestic turmoil subside.
'In his own home, he is difficult to please. If it isn't impeccable, he doesn't want to be there,' the Khun Ying had told Natthawara.
'My, but the ladies he dates or invites for parties don't look all that "impeccable",' This was an understatement. As his PA, she had to manage both his professional and private affairs.
The companions of Kent Industries' Chairman were usually from the entertainment industry or high-profile socialites with sexy looks. When he hosted parties for his close-knit group of profligate friends at the mansion, most of the women invited appeared materialistic and fragile. Some were daily staples of gossip columns, competing in makeup and attire as if living on a runway.
As for their sense of order—that was non-existent. Once the parties ended and they departed, Rojana was left to shake her head at the mess, organizing a massive top-to-bottom cleaning every time.
'Watt doesn't invite those women to live with him. Even if they stay the night, it's only for a fleeting moment. As long as our people look after his well-being, I am satisfied.'
'I wonder what kind of wife he'll eventually bring home.'
'Let him choose that for himself. But my son is not as careless as you might think, Nat.'
'I didn't mean it that way. I'm just worried,' she'd replied sheepishly.
However, the passing years had made Natthawara realize that M.R.W. Warinrampai's assessment of her only son was entirely accurate. At his core, he possessed sky-high standards and was fiercely headstrong, yet most people perceived him quite differently.
Wasawatt carried himself like any other young man who enjoyed dining and socializing, appearing straightforward and capable of associating with people of all levels. But his close friends all shared similar backgrounds and mindsets. If someone was of a lesser status in one regard, they had to possess other invaluable qualities.
Crucially, they had to be trustworthy. Everyone else remained on the periphery.
He dated countless women but never took advantage of them, looking after them well according to their agreements. Meanwhile, women of intellect and virtue were usually positioned as friends or business partners whom he treated with the utmost respect to preserve their reputations.
When he set his sights on something he considered his own, he would do whatever it took to obtain it—sometimes pushing boundaries to the point of ruthlessness.
The upside, however, was that he would cherish and maintain said 'possession' for a very long time. He was not fickle in seeking replacements like most men.
His professional standards mirrored his private ones, a fact that had caused many competitors to misjudge him. Wasawatt appeared to be a flexible, genial playboy who prioritized fun over work. In reality, he was a seasoned shark, planning with meticulous detail that left almost no room for error. He was decisive and a calculated risk-taker who, ninety-nine percent of the time, walked away with far more than he staked.
"Khun Watt, you're captivated by Nong Prae's cooking, aren't you?"
Sharp eyes glanced at his personal assistant.
"Good, delicious food is hard to find. Most of it is just... edible."
"The restaurants I used to order from for you... the taste was only 'edible'?"
"Some items were good, but most were just edible."
"I think Khun Rojana's cooking is equally delicious."
"For the most part, Nom makes delicious food. but some things are just edible." The young man referred to Rojana as 'Nom'—short for 'Maenom' (Nanny)—as his mother had taught him since he was an infant within their family circle. In front of others, however, he called her 'Khun Rojana.'
"Meaning everything Nong Prae makes is delicious."
"Try approaching her again, P'Nat. If she still refuses, tell her I'm the one who sent you to ask."
"Understood."