It didn't end with just words that day.
Everything
became real after that.
Kan was called into a meeting.
Not just by his mother—
but with shareholders,
family members,
and people he couldn't refuse.
"Let's speak directly."
His mother began.
"This matter of yours—"
"It's affecting the business."
Those words
made it no longer personal.
Kan sat still.
"The deal with the Suriyakool family is moving forward."
"But your situation—"
"it's already starting to leak out."
His stepfather added,
"If it reaches their side…"
He paused,
then continued,
"the deal is over."
Silence grew heavy instantly.
"And if it collapses,"
his mother continued,
"how will you take responsibility?"
That wasn't just a question.
It was pressure.
Kan didn't answer.
"Billions in value."
"The family's reputation."
"Credibility."
His mother listed each one.
"All of this—"
"for one woman."
His stepfather smiled faintly.
"Is it worth it?"
Kan lifted his head.
His gaze was steady.
"For me—"
"it is."
That answer
silenced the entire room.
Immediately.
His mother looked at him
for a long moment,
then spoke.
"Then you don't need to be here anymore."
Her words were clear.
Final.
"Leave the company."
"Step down from every position."
"And leave this family."
No one argued.
No one spoke.
Because everyone knew—
she meant it.
Kan stayed still
for only a moment.
Then he nodded.
"Okay."
A simple answer.
Too simple.
His stepfather chuckled softly.
"You've got guts."
His mother didn't smile.
She looked at her son.
"Have you really thought this through?"
Kan didn't hesitate.
"I have."
"And what about her?"
That question
made him pause slightly.
"If she doesn't choose you—"
"If she goes with her family—"
"What will you have left?"
Silence deepened again.
That question
hit exactly where it hurt.
Kan closed his eyes
for just a moment,
then answered.
"At least—"
"I'll still have myself."
His mother said nothing.
His stepfather smiled.
"Still a child."
Kan stood up.
Without another word.
No goodbye.
No turning back.
He just walked out.
As if cutting everything off—
by his own choice.
That night,
he stood in front of Phat's house.
He didn't climb the balcony.
He didn't hide.
He just stood there.
Like someone
who had nothing left to conceal.
His gaze was steady—
but heavy.
Because this time,
he didn't come with just himself.
He came with
everything he had left.