Chapter Text
To the rest of the corporate world, the tall and guarded walls of the financial department at Vanguard Holdings were like a high-pressure maze of cold, calculated numbers and rigid deadlines, but to Por, it was a sanctuary.
As the head of the financial department, Por’s entire existence revolved around maintaining an absolute equilibrium.
His desk was stacked with numerous unaudited financial statements, the dual monitors arranged methodically at the centre, pens lay in perfect parallel lines, and the binders and ledgers organized in chronological order.
Por was the epitome of perfection and discipline, within the cold and sterile walls of the department, which basically felt like a cage to his team members. Por found a space that allowed him to display absolute control.
Dressed in a crisp, stark-white button - down shirt, his posture unyielding as ever, Por entered his office. The confined space was a reflection of himself, minimalist, cold and entirely structured.
The floor-to-ceiling glass walls overlooked the bustling city of Bangkok, while the air inside was chilled to a crisp, precise temperature, smelling faintly of expensive leather and fresh ink.
Today’s morning wasn't much different from the others. The floor was filled with the quiet rush of employees trying to complete missing deadlines, the newly admitted interns looking completely lost within the dark, pristine walls of the company.
Por walked to his office doors with a practiced ease, loosening the tie around his neck slightly with a heavy sigh. He settled behind the mahogany desk, smoothly pulling the first stack of spreadsheets towards him, the only sound that echoed between the concrete walls resonated of soft keyboard clicks.
Por’s attention was entirely focused on the dual monitors in front of him, his eyebrows furrowed in deep concentration as he looked over the final transactions of the firm over the past year.
His eyes scanned the numbers meticulously, looking for any discrepancies or misstatements made. His hands simultaneously marked in red across the physical paper stacks, circling tiny mistakes with a huff of disappointment.
The heavy silence of the room was suddenly interrupted by a sharp knock on the door. Por closed his eyes, his fingers massaging the bridge of his nose before letting the person come in.
Por looked up to see his most trusted aide and his assistant of years stepping in with a pale face, a tablet tightly held against his chest. Auau looked terrified, his face a mixture of genuine fear and confusion.
“What’s wrong, Auau? You don’t look too well,” Por questioned, seeing the troubled look on his assistant’s face.
“Is this about the new intern making a mistake again?” Por asked in a voice laced with irritation and annoyance.
“Didn’t I tell you to handle it? Don’t bring it to me unless it’s a major issue,” Por said, looking at Auau, who still looked in a daze.
“Mr. Suppakarn, it is a major issue,” Auau answered, looking straight at Por, handing him the tablet he brought him.
Por looked at the bright screen displaying an email from the head management team. Auau quickly clarified, “The management just sent our department an email saying that a senior auditor is being sent from the headquarters and he’ll be arriving soon.”
Por handed the tablet back to Auau before leaning back in his leather chair, his fingertips massaging his temples, feeling a massive headache coming on.
“Why now? Don’t they know we’re already getting the final statements ready? If the auditor comes now, he’ll create a mess, pulling heaven knows what account statements. Do they not want the final account ready on time? What the hell!”
“I already informed them about this, but they’re insisting on doing the checks now, saying they need to do it before the preparation of final accounts,” Auau answered, his own palms now sweaty with nervous anticipation.
“Are they trying to get on my nerves? Didn’t they have the last 3 months to do this, why now when only the last section is being filed?” Por asked in a slightly raised voice.
“Okay, get the statements ready. I don’t want any mistakes from the team. Everything’s arranged properly; they just have to gather it.” Por said in a strict voice, the seriousness of the moment settling in.
“And let the interns stay out of it, assign them some different tasks so they don’t get in the way.”
“Got it, sir, I’ll have everything ready,” Auau answered, turning on his heels towards the door.
“Auau…?”
“Yes, sir?”
“Let me know when he gets here, I’ll personally greet him.”
“Okay, sir, I’ll let you know,” with one last nod of approval from Por, Auau walked out of the office, getting back to his tasks.
Por leaned back on his chair, closing his eyes for a moment, his mind spiraling with various thoughts.
Let them send whoever they wanted, he had spent years transforming this department from an absolute havoc, to a disciplined, mathematically perfect machine. His team might have looked at him like a tyrant, but it was this rigidity and these rules that kept Vanguard Holdings thriving.
A senior auditor, Por, scoffed at the ridiculous idea. It was an insult, really. The upper management knew his record was flawless.
His final accounts didn’t just balance; they were the definition of precision. This was just another poor attempt, nothing more than a power move from the elites upstairs.
Por was willing to admit that he had been a hindrance to certain people of the management; he knew they wanted him to make one mistake, a small mistake that could cost him everything.
Let them come, Por thought, his jaw tightening as he reached down to adjust the crisp cuffs on his shirt. He knew every ledger, every verified invoice and accounted for every single decimal. There wasn’t a single crack in his structured foundation. He knew that.
Whoever this auditor was would be out of his department before the sun sets.
He took in a slow, deep breath, bringing the thoughts in his mind to a halt, letting his pulse slow down to its usual steady rhythm. The frustration gone, replaced with a calculative, defensive calm. He was ready for whatever storm was awaiting him.
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Teetee had always found accounting departments predictable. They were almost always populated by stressed–out bureaucrats drowning in coffee stains and mismatched spreadsheets, looking miserable as ever.
But as the imposing elevator doors glided open on the accounting floor of Vanguard Holding’s Bangkok branch, Teetee realized that this place was entirely different from the one he had handled before.
The main floor was quiet, hyper-organized, and freezing cold – running on an air conditioner setting that felt more like a server room than a human workspace.
Interesting, Teetee thought, a slow, last smirk touching his lips as he stepped out, his team following closely behind. He had already rolled up his sleeves and loosened up the tie the moment he had left the headquarters.
He hated the stuffy, buttoned-up rules of the executives' suites. He preferred to be comfortable while he unfolded and dismantled layers of corporate fraud.
He walked past the rows of cubicles where young interns and accountants scrambled in a quiet panic. Word of the surprise check sure had travelled faster than he had expected. Their expressions looked terrified.
Before he could waltz into another one of the unwelcomed spaces, he was stopped by a figure standing right ahead, halting his steps in place. The man was dressed in a crisp blue suit, thick-rimmed glasses resting on his eyes, his large hand extended for a handshake.
“Hello, this is Auau Thanapun. I am Mr Suppakarn’s assistant,” the man said in a calm and steady voice.
“Hello, Wanpichit Nimitparkpoom, Senior Auditor,” Teetee introduced himself with a firm handshake.
“We’ve been expecting your visit. Please follow me, Mr Suppakarm will soon be with you in the conference room.”
“Oh, so you were informed about our arrival,” Teetee replied with slight amusement.
“Hmm, news like such travels faster than one expects it to,” Auau retorted with a flat tone.
“This way please, our employees will keep your team entertained till then.”
Auau turned to lead the way down the corridor, but Teetee’s gaze strayed past the assistant’s shoulder, stopping dead on the corner glass office.
Sitting behind the mahogany desk, totally oblivious was the man himself – Mr. Suppakarn.
Teetee slowed his steps, a slow, highly amused smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. The local branch rumours had painted the head as robotic, controlling and a rule - follower, but seeing him in flesh was a completely different story.
Por had a remarkable, striking silhouette. His white shirt was perfectly pressed and buttoned. His desk was arranged in chronological precision, pens stacked parallel, documents arranged with methodical order.
He was focused on circling an entry ledger sheet with a sharp red pen, his handsome jaw tight with a faint, irritated huff.
A perfectionist, Teetee thought, an unexpected spark of thrill dancing in his chest.
Looking at those tightly compressed lips, an incredible, reckless thought surged across his mind. He wanted to see what it would take to break that perfect composure.
“Mr. Wanpichit? The conference room is this way,” Auau’s voice drifted back, a hint of sharp professional impatience in his tone.
“Change of plans, Assistant Thanapun. You see, I don’t have much patience,” Teetee replied casually.
Without waiting for a response, Teetee veered off-course, completely ignoring the corporate boundaries. He walked straight forward to the corner office, reached out and glided the glass door open without a warning knock, stepping right into the freezing, sterile sanctuary.
“I believe I asked for a few minutes, Auau- “Por murmured, his attention still focused on the spreadsheets, his voice smooth and cold.
“I’m afraid I’m not Auau Mr. Suppakarn,” Teetee replied, his voice dropping into a low, rich tone laced with a teasing, playful rhythm.
Por's head snapped up at the unfamiliar voice invading his space. His eyes turned pure, defensive ice the moment they landed on Teetee’s casual appearance.
Teetee marched forward without hesitation, each step invading Por’s personal workspace. His eyes landed on Por’s jaw, tight with annoyance and irritation, a flicker of amusement crossing his face.
“I have to say, the rumours didn’t do justice to how they defined you. This scenery is much more fascinating than I expected it to be,” Teetee said, as his eyes traced every corner of the cold office space.
Por evaluated him with a cool, dangerous flicker of amusement, clearly sensing the man’s almost sarcastic tone directed toward him.
Maintaining a perfectly calm expression, Por stood up from his seat, unleashing the same intimidating presence that he usually carried before dealing with people who were intending to waste his time.
“I also didn’t think a person who was praised so much for their professional attitude lacked basic mannerisms,” Por retorted. His eyes scanned the smug expression on Teetee’s face, dimming for less than a second, before a smooth, velvety chuckle escaped his lips.
“That was indeed my mistake, I apologize Mr. Suppakarn,” Teetee murmured, his voice smoothing as he stepped a fraction closer to the desk. He offered a relaxed, confident smile that didn’t quite reach the sharp, calculating corners of his eyes.
“Let me introduce myself properly. Wanpichit Nimitparkpoom. I am the senior auditor who will be working along with your team. You can call me Teetee or Tee.”
“No need for that. We’re not here to be friends,” Por replied with an icy, distant tone.
Teetee let out a small chuckle, amused at the cold tone, before offering an acknowledging nod at Por.
“That’s right, we are not here to be friends.”
He didn’t wait for an invitation to sit. Instead, Teetee casually pulled back one of the sleek, heavy leather chairs opposite Por’s desk and dropped into it, resting his briefcase flat against the pristine, marble surface.
He leaned back, crossing one leg over the other, his gaze entirely locked onto the handsome, stone-faced controller.
Por sat back down on his chair, his eyes tracing the bold features of the man seated across from him. Teetee could feel the weight of the icy stare evaluating his every move. But Teetee wasn’t someone to back down easily.
Teetee stared back with the same burning gaze, his eyes tracing every small detail of the man sitting across from him.
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The silence between them stretched, thick and competitive, until Por finally broke the connection. He reached down, his long, elegant fingers deliberately sliding the thick, black-bound ledger of the first quarter’s logistics accounts across the smooth marble.
“Quarter one,” Por said, his voice clipped, entirely businesslike, though Teetee caught the slight, defensive tightening of his grip in the edges of the desk.
“Every single transaction is fully reconciled and authorized. You won’t find a single misplaced decimal, Mr. Wanpichit. These are the physical statements; the digital documents will be accessible once you occupy my seat, right on these monitors.”
Teetee didn’t look at the ledger. Instead, his gaze remained fixed on the slight pulse jumping in the hollow of Por’s throat, right where his stark white collar met his pale skin.
“Ohoo…my team and I haven’t even settled yet, you’re already assigning us work?” Teetee asked in a teasing voice, his lips curled up in a smirk.
“And I told you, you can call me Tee.” He murmured, finally reaching out to rest his palm on the binder. He didn’t pull it toward him, just kept his hand there, creating a tiny, shared bridge of contact on the desk.
“And this perfect ledger makes me suspicious. In my line of work, absolute perfection usually means someone is hiding something beautifully.”
Por’s eyes narrowed, a sharp, defensive fire flashing beneath his cool exterior. He leaned forward slightly, bringing himself closer into Teetee’s space.
Teetee took a quiet, sharp breath, noting the subtle scent of expensive mint and laundry radiating from the smaller man.
“Are you accusing me and my department of committing malpractice, Senior Auditor?” Por countered, his voice dropping to an octave, challenging him.
“Not yet,” Teetee replied smoothly, his eyes dropping to the sharp line of Por’s collarbones before snapping back to his eyes.
He leaned in too, his broad shoulders shifting as he rested his forearms on the marble, narrowing the distance between them to a mere foot. “But I like to look closely at things that try too hard to be perfect and untouchable.”
Por didn’t flinch but narrowed his eyes at the accusatory tone. He stayed locked in place, but Teetee’s sharp eyes didn’t miss how Por’s gaze subtly flicked down, tracing the open collar of Teetee’s shirt and the relaxed, confident slope of his shoulders, before darting back to meet his stare.
It was a stealthy, split-second observation, but it was enough to make Teetee’s smirk return, deeper and more dangerous this time.
“If you’re going to audit me, Tee,” Por said, the sudden use of his nickname rolling off his tongue with a dangerous, icy, sweetness that caught Teetee completely off guard, “then I suggest you stop looking at me and start looking at the data.”
Teetee’s heart gave a sudden, heavy thud against his ribs. The ice prince had claws.
Instead of continuing the push and pull, Teetee let out a low, breathless chuckle. With a sudden moment that shattered the tension building up within the closed concrete walls.
He stood up smoothly, his tall build immediately looming over the desk, casting a long shadow across Por’s pristine workspace. He picked up the binder, tucking it casually under his arm like a trophy.
“On second thought,” Teetee murmured, looking down at Por with a lazy, devastatingly confident smirk as she slipped his free hand back into his trousers’ pocket.
“It’s getting a bit too cold in here, and I prefer to take my time dissecting someone’s secrets.”
Por’s eyes snapped up towards the looming figure, his jaw tightening into a hard, furious line as he prepared to snap back with a snarky comment.
But before he could form a sentence, Teetee leaned down just a fraction, his sharp eyes flashing with pure, unadulterated mischief.
“Don’t look so panicked, Mr. Suppakarn. I’ll take extra care of your precious numbers from today onwards. Try not to miss me too much.”
Without waiting for the icy retort he knew was coming, Teetee turned on his heel and waltzed out of the glass office, leaving the door wide open.
Inside the office, Por was left staring after him, his knuckles white against the marble desk, absolutely breathing fire at the sheer audacity of Senior Auditor Wanpichit