CONFLICT OF INTERESTS

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CHAPTER 10: ARMORED PACT

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The private flight back to the capital landed shortly after midnight. Rain gently tapped against the fuselage as the driver loaded the luggage into the black sedan waiting for them on the airport's private tarmac.
There was no detour to Boom's apartment. Without either of them needing to say a word or give the driver any instructions, the car took the direct route to Smart's residential tower. The game of maintaining two separate addresses had stopped making sense after the southern coast.
Upon entering the penthouse, Smart tossed his keys onto the console by the entrance and smoothly removed his suit jacket. The city shimmered beneath the mist through the panoramic windows, but neither of them paid any attention to the view.
Boom walked straight toward the kitchen counter, poured himself a glass of cold water, and drank half of it in a single swallow. His hair was tousled, the first two buttons of his shirt were undone, and he wore that relaxed expression that only appeared when the doors were locked and the rest of the world disappeared.
Smart approached in silence. He stopped behind him, placing both hands on either side of Boom's waist against the polished granite countertop, enclosing him in a narrow, warm space. He rested his chin on Boom's shoulder, feeling the steady, calm pulse in his neck.
“On Monday, the board will ratify the capital injection,” Smart said quietly, his voice much calmer, completely stripped of the anger from the previous night's early hours. “Phukhao has no way to interfere. The production is protected.”
Boom tilted his head to the side, allowing Smart's cheek to brush against his skin. He set the glass on the counter and covered Smart's hands resting on his hips with his own.
“I know,” Boom replied with a calm half-smile. “I told you there was nothing to worry about.”
Smart remained silent for a couple of seconds. He slid one hand upward, tracing the side of Boom's torso until his fingers settled at the nape of his neck, making him turn his face to look at him directly. Smart's dark eyes examined him with a different kind of intensity. It was no longer the challenge of office rivals or the violence of unresolved jealousy. There was a certainty there—heavy, solid, and real.
“Don't turn off your phone again, Boom,” Smart said, without harshness, but with a firmness that left no room for doubt. “Not because of the contract, or the company.”
Boom held his gaze, understanding the weight of what Smart was admitting without needing to dress it up with unnecessary words. The pride that had kept them competing for months gave way completely in that moment.
“I won't,” Boom whispered, turning within his arms until he was standing completely face-to-face with him.
Boom wrapped his arms around Smart's neck, intertwining his fingers in his dark hair and closing the distance with a slow, deep kiss without hurry. There was no urgency to prove power, nor the rough friction of a boardroom. It was the quiet claim of two people who had learned to share control without losing themselves in the process.
Smart lifted him easily by the thighs, settling him onto the marble countertop as he deepened the kiss, drawing Boom against his body with a calm possessiveness that sealed the definitive end of their war.
From that night on, business would remain ruthless during the day in front of cameras and shareholders, but in the shadows of the city, the monopoly belonged exclusively to the two of them.