The Kingpin's Possession

75: Long Time No See

Kit:Kit froze in place, not knowing what to do or how to react. His heart was beating so fast in his chest that for an instant, all he could hear was the sound of his heartbeat as his entire body went numb. His mind couldn’t even come up with anything, it too seemed to have gone numb.

He looked up into the mirror in front of him, because turning back wasn’t an option. And almost in slow motion, as if time itself had slowed down to a crawl, he saw the reflection of a man standing behind him, in dark hoodie with the hood covering his face…one of the telltale signs of suspicion that P’First and P’Kim had drilled into him and Ben, but both had failed to notice.

And then the man, who was almost the same height as Kit, reached out with his free hand to remove the hood from his head, to reveal the face of his own father—the very same man whom everyone had thought had died a long time ago.

Well…everyone had thought he was dead, most of all P’Kanya…but thanks to P’Kim, Kit knew all too well that he hadn’t died. Instead, this vermin had been leeching off of his sister, constantly taking out money from debtors and having Kanya pay for it. If P’Kim hadn’t gotten involved, only god knew where they would’ve been now.

Now, Kit stood frozen in shock as the dead looked him in the eyes, their own eyes filled with malicious intent.

Ayan Ritthirong smirked at him, noticing how he had tensed and frozen. He removed the gun from Kit’s back, as though he was only harmlessly teasing his own flesh and blood.

Suddenly, a flash of anger made Kit move according to his reflexes. Swiftly, he turned and reached for his father’s neck, trying to strangle him, but Ayan was not so easily duped.

He was far stronger than his son, all thanks to the years of practice dodging mafia bagmen, and it was clear that Kit was no match against him when he easily overpowered him with one swift move. There was no technique behind the resistance, only strength.

Kit hardly had time to understand what was happening before Ayan flipped their positions and slammed his back against one of the stall doors, making him groan in pain. And just as Kit had tried to strangle him, Ayan now held his son against the stall door with his neck in a chokehold.

“Scared, are you?” Kit’s father taunted, raising his arm so Kit’s feet didn’t reach the ground. Kit struggled against his grip, trying to pry his hand off with both of his, but his father was far stronger than he had anticipated. “Pathetic! I’m ashamed to even call you my son! You have no survival instinct and you can’t even get away from me while I’m using one hand? Absolutely pathetic.”

Kit tried to respond, to fight back, but he was quickly losing breath as he struggled against his father’s grip.

“Don’t worry, dear son,” Ayan said in a reassuring voice, though nothing about his consistent force around Kit’s neck was reassuring at all. “I’m not going to kill you, yet, because you’re not my target. Though, I must say that you fucked up enough of my plans to piss the hell out of me.”

‘What the hell was this madman talking about?’ Kit tried to focus on his words so he could commit them to memory. But the way his father had a death grip on him, was cutting off his air supply quickly. His feet swung freely, trying to reach for the ground, and even by standing on his tip-toes, it was difficult for him to find his footing.

Ayan continued, unperturbed by Kit’s bulging eyes and reddening face. “I had the perfect arrangement, living my life wonderfully until you and your sister got involved with that stupid mafia don. And just like that, the tables turned against me. Just like that, I was forced into running and hiding from those fuckers! And it was all your fucking fault.”

Ayan let go of Kit’s neck then, and he almost fell to the floor, gasping in deep breaths as he filled his deprived lungs with air. But he didn’t give himself enough time to recover, because he was still running an adrenaline high.

Before Ayan knew what was happening, Kit charged at his father, hands moving on their own to grab him by the neck. “You scoundrel,” he hissed. “You’re the reason why our mother died from overwork and exhaustion; why my sister almost got sold off to some thugs. I almost got killed because of you—and now you show up here, acting like an entitled motherfucker with the audacity to blame P’Kim for your own wrongdoings. Have you no shame?”

Kit’s disgust flared as he looked closely at his father’s smug face. “Don’t you feel sorry for yourself?” He looked at his father up and down, revulsion evident in his eyes. “Look at what you’ve become; you’re pathetic. I wouldn’t be surprised if you were the one behind the shootings and the constant threats on our lives. It was you, wasn’t it?”

But Ayan only laughed, which pissed Kit off even more. “Look at youShocked to the core, Kit’s grip loosened on Ayan’s neck and he used that as an opportunity to whip out his gun and press its barrel against Kit’s chest, pushing him backwards to create some distance between them.

He laughed at the shock on Kit’s face again. “Oh, yes. I know that you’re a faggot and that you’re sleeping with Kimhan. You ask me if I am ashamed of myself, but in truth I should say the same to you. I didn’t raise you to be a bitch, taking dicks from behind like an uncivilized pig. You call me a scoundrel, but you’re dirtier than me.”

Ayan scratched the back of his neck with his free hand, that mocking smile still intact. “Seriously, to say that I’m disappointed with how you turned out is an understatement, but to think that your lover is playing both you and your sister? That’s fucking insane! That Kimhan is having a child with your sister and fucking around with you at the same time!”

His words echoed in the bathroom, bouncing around the walls and in Kit’s mind. A bitter taste bloomed in his mouth, leaving him perplexed on how to react next. “I-I don’t even know what you’re talking about!”

Kit knew denial wasn’t the best option, because if his father was indeed the one who had been behind everything, then he did have more intel on them than he could count. But Kit was also scared, not for himself, but for those around him. Because his psychopath of a father wasn’t just targeting the mafia dons, he was targeting everyone around them. Especially innocent people.

“Really? Are we gonna do this?” Ayan rolled his eyes. He cocked his head to the side, all false humor gone from his face. “Now, let’s get down to business, shall we? You tell me exactly what is going on and what your precious P’Kim is planning next, and I put off killing you for now. Because if you don’t, someone you care about will die.”

“Fuck off!”

“Now, now…don’t be mean to your father.” He smirked, moving the gun to the left side of Kit’s chest, exactly over his heart. “Who do you want to die first, Earth or Prem? The choice is yours, though I imagine it would be a tough one. But if you don’t give me intel…someone will die. And you should know by now that I’m not bluffing.”

Kit hated the way his voice dripped with mockery and ridicule, as if his son was nothing more than a pawn in the game he was playing.

He couldn’t believe that he had once loved this man so dearly, had felt sorry for him. But now, all he could think about as he looked at this psychopath was that he really wished this man was dead.

Kit could not swallow the protest that bubbled up and out his throat. “You can’t just—!”

But Aryan would not hear it. He tilted the gun up to under Kit’s chin, to remind Kit what he was holding. “One wrong move, son,” he said. “One wrong move, and I will pull the trigger. With you dead, it would be soKit felt the airway in his throat constrict. He was trapped; he couldn’t do anything. He had never known helplessness like this in his life because till now, everyone around him had always been shielding him. His sister, P’Kim and even his friends, especially Ben. They had all be protecting him whenever he had been in serious trouble.

But this time, he was all alone, and in the mercy of someone he had never expected to be in.

But then—footsteps.

There was someone running towards them from outside the door, bringing a surge of hope with it. Ayan’s eyes flickered over to the door, and he let out a curse as he looked around the washroom. He had a calculating look on his face as he tried to decide the next best course of action.

“Unfortunately, it seems that our time has been rather short, but don’t worry because I’ll definitely be seeing you again soon,” he taunted. “And before I forget, if you so much as try to tell Kim that I was the one who was behind all this, or that you’d seen me today…your friends will be the first to taste my bullet.”

Kit wanted to believe that his father was lying, but he knew from experience that he wasn’t. The man was a vicious motherfucker with no moral code. He was basically a gun with no safety. He had no idea what he would do if he didn’t comply with his wishes.

But still he hesitated. There was someone outside and P’David was just outside the restaurant…if he managed to call for help-

Right then, Ayan smirked, as if he had read Kit’s mind like an open book. “I am not alone in all this, Kit, and if I don’t check in and let my companions know about my status within the next few minutes, well… just keep in mind that they are stationed in the best places possible to have eyes on their target. And let's just say that to them, it's a race to see who fires the first bullet. So think twice before you tell your beloved Kimhan that you reunited with your dear father, alright?”

Unwillingly, he nodded, keeping his mouth shut as he watched a satisfied smile spread on his father’s lips.

Kit could only watch him disappear into one of the stalls, helplessly, a sense of dread filling his gut. And in the seconds that followed, the washroom door was flung open.