The apartment door closed behind Rit's warning, but the echo of his words still sat heavy in the air:
**They're going to use Karan to destroy you.**
Arthit felt something cold snake down his spine. Not fear.
Not anger.
Something deeper.
Something he didn't have a name for.
He grabbed Karan's hand—gently, but with an urgency that left no room for argument.
"Pack only what you need," Arthit said.
His voice was calm. Too calm.
The kind of calm he used right before someone died.
Karan froze. "Arthit—"
"Please."
The word slipped out before he could stop it.
Karan had heard many versions of Arthit's voice—sharp, angry, motionless, dangerous—but never that one.
Soft. Frayed. Almost pleading.
He nodded and hurried to the bedroom.
Arthit stayed where he was, hands braced on the kitchen counter, breathing hard.
Rit watched him quietly.
"You okay, boss?"
Arthit didn't answer.
Because he wasn't.
Because when Rit said **they want to use Karan**, something inside Arthit had twisted until he could barely breathe.
Karan returned with a small backpack.
Arthit moved toward him instantly.
"Give it," he murmured, taking the bag to check it himself.
Karan raised an eyebrow.
"Do you think I packed a bomb in there?"
Arthit didn't smile.
"I need to make sure you didn't forget anything important."
"Like what?" Karan challenged softly.
"Anything you'd regret losing."
Arthit's eyes flickered over Karan's face.
"Anyone I'd regret losing."
Karan's breath hitched.
He didn't say anything.
He didn't need to.
Arthit squeezed his hand once.
"Stay close. Don't argue."
"Arthit—"
"Please don't argue. Not tonight."
Karan swallowed whatever reply he had.
Rit checked the hallway camera again. "Clear for now. But they'll regroup."
Arthit nodded. "We go through the service stairs. No elevators."
They moved quietly.
Every step echoed too loudly.
Every creak felt like a warning.
Halfway down the stairwell, Karan whispered, "Arthit… what if Thanakorn isn't after *me*? What if they only said that to throw you off?"
Arthit didn't stop walking.
But his voice dropped.
"Karan. I need you to understand something."
Karan slowed until they were side by side.
Arthit stopped on the stairs and faced him fully.
"If someone wants to break me… they only need one thing."
His voice cracked slightly.
"One person."
Karan's fingers trembled around the railing.
Arthit stepped closer, close enough for Karan to feel the heat of his chest.
"I'm not their weakness, Karan."
"You are."
Karan looked away, jaw tightening.
"I hate that."
Arthit reached out, slowly—giving Karan the chance to pull away.
He didn't.
Arthit cupped the side of his face, thumb brushing just under his eye.
"I hate it too," he whispered.
"But it's the truth."
Karan closed his eyes for a second, breathing in the warmth of Arthit's touch.
Then—
**A metallic clatter above.**
Rit spun, raising his gun. "Someone's in the stairwell."
Arthit pulled Karan behind him.
Footsteps.
Fast.
Deliberate.
A shadow moved two floors up.
Rit shouted, "Contact!"
A shot echoed.
Concrete splintered near Rit's shoulder.
"MOVE!" Arthit barked, dragging Karan down the stairs.
The three of them raced downward—boots pounding, bullets hitting the railings, metal screaming with every ricochet.
Karan stumbled.
Arthit caught him mid-fall, pulling him upright with an arm around his waist.
"You okay?" he murmured.
Karan nodded, breathless. "Yeah."
Arthit didn't let go.
Rit yelled from ahead, "Basement door is close! Come on!"
They sprinted the last flight—
But as Rit reached the basement landing—
**the door burst open.**
Two men in black tactical gear charged in.
Rit fired first.
One man fell.
The second raised a rifle—
"KARAN!" Arthit shouted.
Before Karan could react, Arthit slammed him against the wall, shielding him with his entire body as gunfire exploded in the stairwell.
Dust fell.
Concrete cracked.
The world narrowed to sound and heat and fear.
"Arthit—!" Karan shouted into his shoulder.
Arthit didn't move.
Didn't flinch.
He held Karan so tightly Karan could barely breathe.
The moment the gunfire stopped, Arthit spun and fired two clean shots.
The second attacker dropped.
Silence rang louder than bullets.
Rit exhaled.
"Clear. For now."
Arthit turned back to Karan.
His hands were shaking.
His eyes were wild.
His chest rose and fell too fast.
"Karan…" he whispered, voice breaking.
"Are you hurt?"
Karan lifted his hands, resting them on Arthit's cheeks.
"No," he whispered.
"I'm right here."
Arthit closed his eyes and leaned into the touch for just a heartbeat—letting himself feel the relief before burying it again.
Rit cracked the basement door open. "Car's ready. We need to move."
Arthit nodded, regained control, and took Karan's hand—this time openly, with no hesitation.
"Karan," he said softly as they stepped into the cold, empty basement,
"no matter what happens next… I won't let them take you."
Karan squeezed his hand.
"Then don't let them take *you* either."
Arthit didn't smile.
He just held on tighter.
Above them, unseen—
a tiny red laser blinked softly from the stairwell railing.
And someone far away whispered through a radio:
"Visual confirmed.
Extraction Phase Two… ready."
---
End of chapter 50