1 CALM DOWN MR. ROME

Chapter 1

The main residence of the Arseni family stood as a symbol of absolute power. It was ruled by Vassili Arseni, a name that inspired fear throughout Russia’s underworld. Known as a ruthless and brilliant gang leader, Vassili controlled vast black and gray industries across the globe. His influence reached far beyond imagination, penetrating every corner of the dark world. He was a beast hidden in shadows, the unquestioned king of the gang realm.

Yet what shocked the world most was not his cruelty or authority, but his marriage.

No one expected Vassili Arseni to marry an apparently ordinary Thai woman.

Nathalada, a well-known Thai actress, had come to Russia years earlier to attend the launch of a famous jewelry brand. With her calm demeanor and simple, unadorned face, she appeared distant and difficult to approach. Still, her quiet beauty was impossible to ignore, capturing every gaze in the room—including that of the young gang leader himself. After countless twists and obstacles, the two eventually married, defying expectations, and their union produced two sons as proof of their love.

Their eldest son, Theerakit Kian Arseni, was born first. Two years later came their second son, Krisdanai Rome Arseni. Raised under strict discipline, both boys were expected to grow into powerful figures in the gang world. Yet despite the harsh training, they were also surrounded by genuine love from their parents. The brothers shared an unbreakable bond, trusting each other more than anyone else.

To outsiders, the Arseni family seemed flawless. Only those within the family knew how unusual the two sons truly were.

“Rome, why are you injured again?”

Seventeen-year-old Kian frowned as he examined his younger brother. Rome’s lip was split, a long wound cut across the corner of his eye, and his clothes were messy. His light-colored hair was disheveled, yet his gray eyes shone with excitement. He smiled brightly, as though he had just enjoyed himself.

“Don’t worry, PKian,” Rome replied cheerfully. “If I’m hurt, the other side is in worse shape.”

Kian’s expression darkened—not because Rome had fought someone, but because he had allowed himself to get hurt. “You could have escaped without bleeding.”

“It wouldn’t be fun without blood.”

“But Mom will be sad.”

At those words, Rome’s smile vanished. In his excitement, he had forgotten the only woman in the family they truly feared—not their terrifying father, but their gentle mother. Nathalada’s sadness was something neither brother could bear. The last time Rome returned home seriously injured, she had cried in fear. Just one tear had haunted him with guilt for nearly a year.

Rome sighed softly and began thinking of ways to hide his wounds, but before he could act, the door opened. He froze, then relaxed slightly, while Kian gave him a knowing, almost mocking glance.

Kian’s abnormality lay in his severe social disorder. He hated interacting with outsiders and allowed no one except his family to call him by his middle name. It was as though he deliberately shut the world out. Though he understood others might have problems, he refused to open his world to them.

Rome, on the other hand, was impatient and cruel by nature, having inherited much of his father’s temperament. When it came to protecting his family, his rage was terrifying. Yet because he always wore a smile, most people failed to notice the danger beneath.

Preparing himself, Rome followed his brother toward the luxurious black car parked outside. Moments later, a tall woman stepped out, her elegant posture and cold beauty unmistakable. But the instant she saw her son, her icy calm shattered.

“Nong Rome, are you hurt? What happened?”

“It’s just a small accident, Mom,” Rome answered quietly, lowering his head as he hugged her, trying to distract her. “How was Thailand? I missed you.”

“Don’t change the subject.” Nathalada frowned, though she hugged him tenderly and stroked his hair. “Boys can be impulsive, but don’t let yourself get hurt, okay?”

“I’m sorry, Mom.”

Rome shot Kian a desperate look, silently begging for help. Kian raised an eyebrow.

“Reward?” he asked calmly.

“The latest Nike shoes,” Rome muttered.

Kian accepted, then smoothly changed the topic. “Mom, you should rest. Let the bodyguards handle the luggage.”

As Nathalada turned to him, she seemed to remember something. “Oh—Mhok, come here.”

The unfamiliar name made both brothers pause. Nathalada gestured toward the car, and a thin boy stepped out. He had black hair, black eyes, and a frail build, made more obvious by his loose black clothes. His face was expressionless, like a lifeless statue.

“This is Mhok,” Nathalada said warmly, resting a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “He’ll be your new brother.”

Kian frowned instantly. Rome stared in surprise.

“The same age as me?” Rome muttered.

“Where did he come from?” Kian asked coldly, his voice filled with caution and possessiveness.

“He came back from Thailand with me,” Nathalada explained gently. “He’s smart and well-behaved. Your father suggested it.”

That answer silenced further objections. After hugging her sons, Nathalada went inside to find her husband, leaving the three boys behind.

Kian spoke first, his tone icy. “Rest today. Report to Father tomorrow.”

With that, he turned away. Rome glanced once at the new boy, lost interest, and followed his brother. To him, Mhok was nothing more than another outsider.

Mhok was led through the manor to a quiet corridor at the back of the estate. He was given a room on the first floor—comfortable, clean, and unexpectedly warm. After checking the space, he lay down on the bed, breathing in the faint scent of sunshine from freshly washed sheets.

For the first time in months, his tense body relaxed.

From his pocket, he took out a balisong knife. Its black handle was marked with red flames, the blade sharp and cold. It was a gift from the man he once called “father”—given when he was ten years old. Not a toy, not a storybook, but a weapon.

This was the world he came from: join the gang, or die.

Survival had always been his only goal. He never imagined a day when he might protect others instead. Thinking of the two brothers who clearly did not welcome him, unease settled in his chest. Being unwanted was dangerous.

Putting the knife away, Mhok closed his eyes, hiding his exhaustion. When he opened them again, only calm remained. He showered, changed, and lay down once more.

For the first time in a long while, he slept peacefully.

What was meant to come, would come.

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