CONFLICT OF INTERESTS

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CHAPTER 3: NEUTRAL TERRITORY

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The halls of the Grand Metropolitan Hotel gleamed beneath colossal chandeliers, an array of crystal and gold designed to flatter the egos of the country’s most powerful shareholders. The annual media and entertainment gala was not a social event; it was a disguised display of power where alliances were bought with glasses of champagne and betrayals sealed with impeccable smiles.
With forty-eight hours remaining before the final decision on the bid, the presence of Smart and Boom in the same venue was the center of everyone’s attention.
Smart held a glass of red wine while conversing with two members of the board of directors. He wore a classic-cut black tuxedo, an immaculate shirt, and the unshakable bearing of a man who did not need to raise his voice to command respect. He responded to the partners’ comments with his usual precision, but his peripheral vision never left the outdoor terrace.
Boom was there, surrounded by a group of foreign investors and business journalists. He wore a midnight-blue tuxedo with velvet lapels that contrasted with his modern and uninhibited demeanor. He laughed easily, holding a tall glass between his long fingers, moving through the room with the fluidity of a predator accustomed to captivating his audience.
When Boom turned his head toward the interior of the room, their eyes collided across the crowd. Boom did not look away; he raised his glass barely an inch in Smart’s direction, holding the silent toast with a dark, challenging gaze before taking a slow sip.
Smart felt the familiar heat rise along his neck. He tightened his fingers around the glass, nodded politely toward the directors he was speaking with, and excused himself in a neutral voice:
—Excuse me, gentlemen. There is something I need to take care of.
He placed his glass on a waiter’s tray and walked with firm steps toward the side hallway leading to the hotel’s private library, a space reserved for confidential meetings, away from the orchestra’s noise and the press’s relentless attention.
Barely two minutes later, the double mahogany doors opened and closed with a soft click.
—I saw you looking for a way to escape the directors, Chisanupong —Boom said, stepping into the dimness of the room lined with bookshelves and soft lighting—. Or is the pressure of Monday already killing your appetite for socializing?
Smart did not turn around immediately. He stood with his back to him, facing the large window overlooking the hotel’s illuminated gardens.
—You’re drawing too much attention tonight, Raveewit —Smart said in a deep voice, slowly turning around—. Those investors you were talking to won’t save your proposal if the board decides you don’t have the stability they’re looking for.
Boom shortened the distance between them with slow steps, without losing that dangerous smile that disarmed any attempt at professional distance. He stopped less than half a meter from Smart, resting one hand on the back of a leather armchair.
—I’m not interested in those investors —Boom murmured, lowering his voice as he fixed his eyes on Smart’s lips—. And I’m not interested in the board tonight either.
The silence between them grew dense, charged with the friction that had accumulated since their encounter in the office. Smart took a step forward, closing the last space between them until their bodies almost brushed against each other.
—If you walk through that door, there won’t be any assistants knocking to interrupt us —Smart warned, his voice dropping to an almost imperceptible, dangerous, restrained tone.
Boom lifted his chin, challenging him as his breathing had already begun to falter.
—I didn’t come here looking to be interrupted.
Smart hesitated no longer. With a sharp movement, he turned on his heel and slid the lock into place with a metallic click that sealed off any possibility of turning back.
There was no room for further warnings. Smart grabbed Boom by the collar of his velvet tuxedo and pulled him toward the back of the room, pushing him against the heavy walnut desk. The documents and leather folders resting on the polished wood fell to the floor with a dull thud, muffled by the Persian rug.
Boom released a hot gasp against Smart’s lips when their mouths collided again. This time there was no hesitation or cold calculation: it was a visceral need, stripped of any corporate courtesy. Boom tangled both hands in Smart’s dark hair, pulling him closer to deepen a ravenous, disheveled kiss that stole their breath within seconds.
Smart’s hands moved down urgently, undoing the buttons of Boom’s vest and shirt, pushing the fabrics aside with firm fingers that burned against the exposed skin. Boom arched his back with a violent shudder as he felt the contrast of the room’s cold air against his heated chest and the relentless warmth of Smart’s mouth descending along his jaw to the curve of his neck, leaving red marks that no shirt collar would be able to completely conceal.
—You always have to have the last word, don’t you? —Smart murmured against his skin, his voice broken and rough with restrained desire.
—Only if... you’re the one trying to take it away from me —Boom replied between ragged breaths, with a broken laugh that immediately turned into a muffled moan when Smart lifted him by the waist to sit him on the edge of the desk, moving between his legs with a determination that allowed no argument.
The haute couture suits ended up wrinkled and partially undone in the dimness. Every caress was a struggle for dominance: Boom’s nails digging into Smart’s broad shoulders, seeking something to hold onto as the rhythm between them became relentless, and Smart’s weight enveloping him completely, setting the pace with an intensity that made the solid wood beneath them creak softly.
The muffled echo of the orchestra’s music, filtering through the distant walls, contrasted with the dense sound of their ragged breathing and the hoarse whispers they exchanged in the darkness. Neither yielded ground; they surrendered to desire with the same ferocity with which they competed in business, erasing the hierarchies until they were reduced to the burning touch of their bodies, the frantic brush of their skin, and the absolute collapse of all their defenses.
When the frenzy finally subsided, the silence of the library settled back in, heavy and warm.
Boom remained leaning against the desk for a few moments, his eyes closed and his chest slowly rising and falling, while Smart rested his forehead against his shoulder, catching his breath with his hands still firmly resting on Boom’s hips.
Smart was the first to slowly straighten. With fingers that still held a slight tremor, he began buttoning his shirt and adjusting his tie, looking down at him with a dark intensity that he no longer tried to hide.
Boom opened his eyes, his swollen lips curving into an exhausted yet triumphant smile as he straightened and fixed the mess of his clothes.
—Monday is going to be a massacre in that boardroom, Chisanupong.
Smart adjusted the jacket of his tuxedo, keeping his gaze fixed on him before heading toward the door.
—Make sure you arrive on time, Raveewit. I won’t wait for you.