call out my name [2gether]

CH 14

THE FAMILY TIES THAT BIND US (I).

Sarawat stared at his mother from across the room, his head tilted and hands crossed over his broad chest as he reclined in the visitor's leather sofa in her grand office. The older woman was dressed in sharply tailored power suit with a greyish houndstooth pattern, lustrous pearls around her neck.

"Honey, I'm so happy that you've decided to visit," his mother said sugary, arms placed atop the table with hands folded neatly over each other. She smiled thinly, the smile not quite reaching her sharp eyes. "Have you finally changed your mind about staying in the family business? Our company will be very lucky to have you on board. You have so much poten-"

"Sorry," Sarawat said tonelessly, interrupting her speech, unwinding his big hands and leaning forward minimally, sneakers squeaking slightly as he slid his feet over the sleek floor. "But I'm not here about this."

"Ow, then what are you here for?" His mother arched her fine brows in mock politeness, her bow shaped lips, much like Sarawat's own, pressed into a thin line as they engaged in a silent battle of wills. As if anything else unrelated to the company was of low to no importance to her, which probably was actually the truth, Sarawat thought grimly with a sneer on his lips. How was it possible for someone to have such a one track mind?

"Someone is snooping around your precious company, trying to dig for information. I just wanted to convey the warning," he said casually, sharp chin tipping upwards as he tracked his mother's reaction from under his long lashes.

Mrs. Guntithanon's expression turned severely pinched, lips pursed, as if she had swallowed a sour lemon. She certainly did not like hearing this from someone else other than her own intelligence people, who by the looks of it had fucked up if Sarawat was the one relaying this information to her. Someone was surely getting fired tonight.

"And how do you know about this?"

Sarawat smirked, lips jerking upwards on one side as he squinted at his mother from under his fringe, elbows on his lithe thighs as he leaned forward, the light colored windbreaker jacket rustling on his wide frame. It was always the same old battle with this woman. She loved to brag about Sarawat when he was doing everything according to her will, dancing precisely according to her tune but as soon as he was a step ahead or wanted to do things differently she harshly condemned him. It was all or nothing with her.

However, who could really blame her? Sarawat's mother had been the one to build up their company from scratch by her own hard effort, through cold sweat and bitter tears. Sarawat could vaguely remember how their family had lived in a one-room apartment when he was little, before Phukong was born and before their lives had picked up at a totally different pace. He tried to be grateful for all the things and opportunities he had received but still, there was a line that she should be careful not to cross.

"The guy your people used for information laundering sent me a request."

Mrs. Guntithanon's brows scrunched up at hearing this, a tiny, annoyed pinch forming between the two arches. Sarawat always threw these curveballs at her, she was slowly getting all the more vexed by his childish antics, playing all these games with her. Why could he not be more like Phukong? But on the other hand, she backtracked, Phukong had no mind of his own. So gullible, an exact copy of her husband. She sighed. Phukong was exceptionally good at doing what other people told him to do but he seemed to miss a certain drive to go to the bottom of things, to dig deeper. As much as she hated the stubbornly daring trait in Sarawat, it was also the force that had driven her to build her own empire from the bare ground. Sarawat was just too alike her and their strong wills clashed more often than not. It was a pity that he could not see things from her perspective. They could have made the company so much more powerful if only Sarawat aligned his interests with hers and forgot all about that childish dream of making music.