The next morning, after the plane touched down on the runway in Bangkok, Petra found herself facing another major turning point in her life when Rafah asked her to move into her private penthouse.
At first, Petra could not deny that she hesitated. Everything had happened too fast. From strangers to lovers, and now suddenly skipping straight to living together. For Petra, at the very least, they should have spent more time as a couple before crossing that line into truly sharing a life. But all of her hesitation was shattered by a single sentence from Rafah.
"If we don't try living together now, how will we know if we can survive in the long run?"
In the end, some of Petra's belongings and clothes were moved into Black Eden No. 4, the luxurious penthouse at the top of Élan Vie Residences, a super-luxury condominium on the curve of the Chao Phraya River. Rafah's private kingdom was about to become the world they would share together.
The first week after Petra moved in became a week of "penthouse touring."
It was not about walking through the rooms to admire the design or the layout. It was about Rafah taking Petra around to "check in" and mark every inch of the place with hot, possessive sex.
For seven days and seven nights, almost every part of Black Eden burned. No corner escaped their lovemaking. Even the long dining table was not spared. More than one dinner was swept aside by Rafah to make room for the taste of Petra's body, sweeter than any dish that could have been served. Even the black grand piano in the middle of the hall was eventually given a new purpose, turned into a platform for their raw desire.
But there was only one room Rafah never took Petra into.
That room, Rafah said, was her private studio, where she painted in oils to relieve stress. Inside, there was nothing but the smell of linseed oil and harsh chemicals. Rafah did not want Petra going in because she was afraid the smell would make her dizzy.
Petra did not push or question it either, because something else had begun to form in her heart, something that worried her more.
Rafah had a high sex drive. Petra had known that from the start. But after living under the same roof, she saw even more clearly just how addicted Rafah was to having sex with her.
And what shocked Petra even more was herself. She had never been someone obsessed with that kind of thing, yet she had become intoxicated by every sensation, as if she had grown addicted to Rafah's scorching games of desire and could no longer pull herself free.
Petra did not want to use that word, but she could not deny the truth.
Rafah had turned her into someone addicted to sex.
No.
Addicted to Rafah.
On some nights, when they lay wrapped around each other after the lovemaking was over, Petra often let her thoughts drift and found herself questioning everything. A relationship driven by such intense passion, was it truly born from genuine feelings they had for each other? Or was it only physical attraction, making both her and Rafah addicted to sex until they could no longer think straight? Were they simply trapped inside lust, only for everything to fade one day when their bodies grew numb to it?
Because as soon as night arrived, Black Eden turned into a private playground Rafah had created for herself. She seemed to enjoy it especially when she found a "new toy" to try on Petra's body.
Tonight was no different.
The lights in the hall were dimmed until only a soft, shadowy glow remained. Rafah stood behind a large canvas frame, wearing nothing but a black satin silk robe loosely tied around her waist.
"Today... I want you to wear this mask."
As she spoke, Rafah handed her a black lace mask adorned with feathers.
Petra took the mask and put it on as she was told. The moment the darkness of the lace settled over her eyes, her other senses seemed to awaken in its place.
Rafah moved in close to her lover. Her warm breath brushed against Petra's ear as her elegant fingers reached for the knot of the only robe covering Petra's body. The delicate lace fabric slowly slipped down from her smooth shoulders before pooling on the floor, revealing her beautiful naked body.
Rafah carefully arranged Petra's posture on the sofa in the wide hall, then calmly tied Petra's wrists to the back of the sofa with ribbon, as if she were arranging a precious porcelain doll that belonged only to her.
Petra wore nothing but a single cashmere blanket, barely covering her lower body.
A faint scent of linseed oil lingered in the spacious, cool hall. Rafah began sweeping her brush across the canvas, her sharp gaze tracing the curves of Petra's body as if she were touching every inch of her skin with her eyes instead of her fingertips.
But then Rafah suddenly stopped.
She had seen the worry clearly written on her lover's face.
Rafah set the brush down and moved closer to Petra.
"What's wrong? You don't look well." Rafah asked, lifting Petra's chin with her fingertip so their eyes could meet.
"Why are you making that face?"
"What face?"
"The face of someone who's worried about something."
Petra stayed silent.
"Is it the smell of the linseed oil?" Rafah tried to guess.
"If you don't like the smell, you can tell me honestly. Next time, I'll go back to using pencil like before."
Petra shook her head lightly. "It's not the smell, Khun Rafah. I was just thinking about something."
"Thinking about something?" Rafah repeated. "What are you thinking about? Can't you tell me?"
Petra lowered her gaze to her hands, clenched tightly in her lap. The conversation went silent for a moment, as if she were weighing whether she should say what had been sitting in her heart. Her pretty lips pressed together before she finally spoke in a soft, faint voice.
"Do you think we don't talk enough as girlfriends?"
Rafah frowned.
"What do you mean?"
"We've been together for almost a month, but it feels like we barely know each other." Petra's voice was tight with everything she had been holding back. "During the day, we each work on our own things. But at night... it's only ever about what happens in bed."
"You don't like it?"
"That's not what I mean."
"Then what do you mean?"
"I don't know anything personal about you. How many girlfriends have you had before? When did you realize you had this kind of sexual preference? We've never gone on dates like normal couples. We haven't even gone to see a movie together. Sometimes I start getting confused. Do you only like me because I let you do whatever you want to me?"
Petra's shoulders curled inward without her realizing it, as if her nakedness in that moment made her feel cold all the way to the center of her heart. The more she spoke, the hotter the edges of her eyes became.
"Maybe... maybe you only like that we have sex."
Rafah did not argue.
She went to Petra at once, picked up the robe, and gently draped it over her lover's shoulders. She carefully pulled the front closed to cover Petra's skin, making sure she felt warm and safe before drawing her into an embrace and kissing her tenderly to soothe her.
"The reason I don't talk about the people I used to date is because I thought they were in the past. They aren't important to us." Rafah looked into Petra's eyes.
"The reason I've never taken you to the movies is because I don't like sitting in cramped places. The only cramped place I like is in bed, with you in it."
"..."
"But from now on, if there's anything personal about me you want to know, just ask. I'll tell you everything. If you want to watch a movie, I'll take you. If there's anything you want to do, I'll take you to do all of it. You just have to say it. Even if I have to conjure it out of thin air, I'll do it."
Rafah looked at Petra.
"Is that okay?"
"Do you think I'm picking a fight with you, Khun Rafah? Am I being unreasonable?"
Rafah shook her head, a slightly sly smile touching the corner of her mouth.
"No. I'm just wondering if your period is coming. You're so whiny today."
Petra froze.
The sad expression from a moment ago instantly flushed red. She was both embarrassed and angry that Rafah still had the nerve to tease her.
Petra lightly slapped her lover's arm.
"Khun Rafah."
A soft laugh slipped out of Rafah at once before she tightened her arms around Petra.
"Come here. Let me spoil you, my sulky little girl."
It seemed Rafah was right.
Because apart from the restless irritation Petra had been feeling for no reason, her body was beginning to send that exact warning. Her period was about to come.
The next day, Rafah agreed to behave like a good girlfriend by taking Petra out on a movie date like an ordinary couple, even though she normally hated sitting in a cinema more than anything.
But even while indulging her lover, Rafah still had one condition.
No melodramatic romance movies. Absolutely not.
That was not a problem for Petra at all.
Just having Rafah agree to come out with her was enough to make her happy.
They decided to have a simple meal while waiting for the movie to start. Everything was going smoothly until a woman walked over and stopped beside their table.
"What a coincidence... Rafah. I didn't expect to see you here."
Petra looked up at the newcomer.
The woman was beautiful, with delicate features that leaned slightly Chinese, but in a very international way. She had the figure of a runway model. Every single thing on her body, from her clothes to her bag to her shoes, was from the latest designer collections. One glance was enough to know everything was outrageously expensive.
She smiled at Rafah before sweeping her gaze over Petra from head to toe.
It was open.
And completely rude.
"So the rumor is true... this woman."
She lowered her voice and turned a cold smile toward Rafah.
"She's pretty. Sweet face. The kind you'd want to handle gently. But she seems a little plain, doesn't she? I doubt she's all that exciting in bed. Your taste has changed a lot, Rafah."
The atmosphere at the table turned tense at once.
Rafah set her cutlery down, her expression visibly tightening.
"If your noble family name can't teach you to speak decently, then shut your mouth and learn to sit still, Pim."
Rafah's voice was calm.
"Or did all those tea parties, foundation board meetings, and fake society events teach you absolutely nothing about basic manners?"
"..."
"What a shame. Born into an old family, yet you choose to speak at a level so low even gutter trash would be embarrassed."
Rafah delivered it all in one clean strike. But instead of getting angry, the woman being insulted laughed in delight.
"Wow... being scolded by someone I used to fuck really hurts."
That sentence made Petra freeze.
Her face went numb at once.
The woman only shrugged, unconcerned.
"Sorry. I only bother being polite to people on my level. As for people who don't quite measure up... well, that can't really be helped."
She turned and gave Petra a sweet smile, even though her words had been a clear insult to Petra's face.
"Oh... you probably don't know who I am, do you?"
Then she lowered her voice, as if deliberately whispering only for Petra to hear.
"I'm Pim. Mom Luang Pimphisa Watthayathorn.* Someone Rafah used to sleep with."
[*Mom Luang is a minor Thai aristocratic title passed down through royal bloodlines. It marks noble lineage, though the holder is legally a commoner rather than royalty.]
That introduction made Petra go completely still.
But Pimphisa did not stop.
"Your name is Petra, right?" She tilted her head and smiled. "Such a pretty name. Hmm... the root comes from ancient Greek, doesn't it? If I remember correctly, that word means 'stone' or 'rock,' doesn't it?"
The corner of her mouth lifted higher.
"Pretty name. Not exactly a very expensive meaning, though."
Bang!
Rafah slammed her hand on the table so loudly that everyone in the restaurant turned to look.
But Pimphisa only seemed even more amused that she had managed to provoke her.
She took the liberty of reaching out, the large diamond ring on her finger catching the light as she lifted Petra's chin and leaned in to inspect her with shameless disrespect.
Smack!
Rafah slapped Pimphisa's hand away from Petra's face with full force.
"Don't. Touch. Her." Rafah gritted out.
"Oh... possessive too."
Pimphisa laughed brightly before stepping back and folding her arms.
"So you're serious about this one... but wait. Hold on."
The woman's eyes narrowed slightly, as if something had just occurred to her.
"She looks familiar, doesn't she? Your new woman. She looks like the girl whose photo you sent to the Black Eden group a few months ago so we could help you 'rate the merchandise.'"
The words "rate the merchandise" made Petra's whole body turn cold.
She whipped her head toward Rafah at once, demanding an answer. Though Rafah tried to conceal it, the slight flicker in her eyes did not escape Pimphisa's sharp gaze.
"Bingo. So it really is her." Pimphisa's mouth curved into a victorious smirk. "No wonder you were willing to hit 'Leave Group' and walk out of Black Eden without saying goodbye to anyone. So this is why... you got hooked on this cheap little rock."
She looked at Rafah with pitying contempt.
"I messaged you from the day you left the group. You didn't read. I called, and you didn't pick up. I thought you'd blocked me. Honestly, if you were going to leave, you could've just said so properly. Doing it like this, common people would call it being pussy-whipped. You know that, right?"
Rafah's fists clenched tight with anger.
Pimphisa moved as if she were about to touch Petra's chin again, but when she saw the murderous look in Rafah's eyes, she withdrew her hand and used words to cut instead.
"Very impressive, Petra. Even Phat thought giving Rafah everything she wanted made her special, and she still couldn't keep her. But you? Somehow, you got Rafah to quit all that Black Eden stuff."
Her contemptuous gaze swept over Petra one last time.
"I guess you must be amazing in bed. Not as boring as you look, huh?"
Rafah did not wait to hear anything else.
She grabbed Petra by the wrist, pulled her to her feet, and led her straight through the crowd and out of the restaurant, leaving Pimphisa watching them go with a satisfied smile.
...
Running into Pimphisa ruined Rafah and Petra's date that night at once.
They never got to watch the movie they had planned to see. Instead, they ended up sitting side by side in suffocating discomfort inside Rafah's car for the entire drive back to the penthouse.
"What was Khun Pim talking about just now?" Petra asked, her face tense and expressionless. "Did you send my picture to a group chat, Khun Rafah? Why did you send it? And why did she say you asked them to 'rate the merchandise'?"
"It was just a normal group chat with friends."
Rafah answered without turning to look at her.
"Don't pay too much attention to what Pim said."
"How am I supposed to ignore that, Khun Rafah? You sent my picture to some group I know nothing about, and now there's a phrase like 'rate the merchandise' involved. That does not sound okay."
"So you believe everything that woman said?"
Rafah's voice began to rise. Her hand tightened around the steering wheel, and her foot pressed harder on the accelerator, making the luxury Jaguar surge forward faster in step with her darkening mood.
"Pim is that kind of person. From the way she acted, she probably wanted to make us fight." Rafah turned to Petra.
"And it worked, didn't it? Because right now, we're fighting... aren't we?"
That left Petra speechless.
Her suspicion and the hurt she had been carrying were twisted into something foolish in Rafah's eyes. Petra pressed her lips together, trying to swallow the lump in her throat. She turned away and looked out at the darkness beyond the window, hiding the tremble in her eyes.
"I'm not trying to pick a fight with you, Khun Rafah."
"But you are, Petra."
Those words made Petra fall silent for a long time.
She knew her behavior might look like she was picking a fight. But what woman could face something like this and not want an explanation from her own girlfriend?
"Khun Pim... was she someone you used to date?"
"Just friends with benefits."
Rafah's answer was short.
"Same as Phat. I met Pim before I met Phat. Both of them were just friends with benefits. Nothing more."
The ease with which Rafah spoke about her past relationships, both Pimphisa and Naphatsorn, made a numb ache spread through the left side of Petra's chest. Even now, when she had the status of Rafah's lover, deep down she still could not stop fearing that one day she might become just another name on the long list of people Rafah had slept with and left behind.
"But the two of you were still in contact?"
"Since I started dating you, I cut everyone off. Pim, Phat, all of them. I stopped contacting them a long time ago."
But those words did not make Petra feel any better.
She sat still for a moment before gathering the courage to ask the question that bothered her most.
"And what about what Khun Pim said about Black Eden? What did you do there, Khun Rafah?"
The moment that question left her mouth, the already tense atmosphere inside the car almost exploded.
Rafah's brows drew together sharply. Her hands gripped the steering wheel harder.
"There's nothing, Petra!"
Rafah shouted before she could stop herself.
"Just running into Pim already pissed me off enough. Can you please stop digging into that woman and Black Eden? I'm fucking begging you."
Petra went completely still.
She had never seen this side of Rafah before.
And this was their first fight, the first time Petra truly understood how frightening Rafah could be when she was angry. Petra chose to stay quiet so the situation would not get worse, but tears rose to her eyes without her realizing it.
The lights along the road began to blur.
Petra quickly turned her face toward the car window. She pretended to look at the view outside and, hidden under the cover of darkness, silently lifted her fingers to wipe her tears away.
Hojicha Writer
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