Chapter 1 — The House That Never Slept
The Derik mansion never slept.
Even at two in the morning, lights still glowed from the underground garage while expensive sports cars lined up like restless beasts waiting for freedom. Men in black suits moved in silence around the property, checking gates, speaking into earpieces, guarding every entrance as though a war could begin at any second.
Yet inside the mansion, chaos ruled instead.
“WHO TOOK MY PROTEIN SHAKE?”
A loud crash echoed from the kitchen.
North froze halfway down the staircase, slowly turning toward the source of destruction.
Another crash followed.
Then Derik’s voice came from inside the kitchen.
“Don’t look at me like that. The blender attacked first.”
North sighed deeply.
Typical.
He walked downstairs wearing oversized grey sweatpants and an engineering department hoodie, his messy black hair sticking everywhere from sleep. The moment he entered the kitchen, he saw the disaster.
Milk on the ceiling.
Bananas on the counter.
A broken blender lid hanging from the chandelier.
And standing proudly in the center of the destruction was Derik himself—the infamous mafia king feared across half the country.
Currently wearing an apron with cartoon ducks on it.
North pinched the bridge of his nose.
“Dad…”
Derik grinned shamelessly.
“Morning, son.”
“It’s two in the morning.”
“Exactly. Breakfast time.”
“That’s not how time works.”
Before Derik could answer, another figure entered the kitchen.
Arthit.
Tall.
Sharp-eyed.
Wearing black racing pants and a sleeveless shirt that exposed tattooed arms.
Unlike North’s sleepy appearance, Arthit looked terrifying even while half awake. His cold expression alone was enough to make most gang members faint.
Unfortunately, his younger brother feared absolutely nothing.
North immediately pointed at the ceiling.
“Your father exploded the blender again.”
Arthit stared silently.
Then he looked at Derik.
Derik lifted both hands innocently.
“The banana betrayed me.”
Arthit sighed the sigh of an exhausted eldest son who had already suffered too much in life.
“You’re banned from touching kitchen appliances.”
“I pay for this kitchen.”
“And yet you fight it daily.”
North burst out laughing.
Derik gasped dramatically.
“You little traitor.”
North grinned.
“You literally declared war against a blender.”
Derik suddenly narrowed his eyes.
“Come here.”
North immediately ran.
“NOPE—”
Derik chased him around the kitchen while Arthit stood there with dead eyes, drinking coffee like this was a completely normal family morning.
Which, honestly, it was.
Meanwhile, one of the mafia guards quietly entered the kitchen doorway.
“Boss, the Italian clients—”
He stopped speaking.
Because Derik was currently trying to throw whipped cream at North.
The guard blinked slowly.
North hid behind Arthit.
“Protect me.”
Arthit took another sip of coffee.
“No.”
Derik pointed triumphantly.
“MOVE, ARTHIT.”
“You’re forty-seven.”
“And?”
“You’re acting seven.”
“Wrong. I’m acting victorious.”
The guard silently backed away and closed the door again.
He decided the Italian clients could wait.
Because clearly the mafia family was busy.
Again.
—
The next morning, North arrived at university half asleep.
His friends were already waiting near the engineering building.
Easter sat on a bench holding an orange kitten while reviewing veterinary notes. His soft expression made him look harmless, but everyone knew he could become terrifying whenever animals were involved.
Typhoon crouched nearby with a camera, aggressively photographing pigeons.
“No,” Typhoon muttered seriously. “This angle lacks emotional suffering.”
North stared.
“They’re pigeons.”
“They have stories.”
“They literally steal food.”
“Exactly. Survival. Tragedy. Art.”
North sat beside Easter.
“I haven’t slept.”
Easter smiled gently.
“Your father again?”
“The blender exploded.”
Typhoon nodded knowingly.
“Valid.”
Meanwhile, Dao arrived carrying painting supplies, several science textbooks, and iced coffee.
And behind him floated three ghosts.
North pointed immediately.
“How many today?”
Dao looked behind him casually.
“Only three.”
“ONLY?”
One ghost waved happily at North.
North screamed.
Easter nearly dropped the kitten laughing.
Typhoon instantly took a photo.
“Beautiful reaction.”
North glared.
“Delete that.”
“Never.”
Dao sat beside them calmly.
One ghost leaned over Dao’s shoulder dramatically.
“He should confess already.”
North blinked.
“What?”
Dao looked tired already.
“The ghost means someone likes someone.”
Easter immediately turned suspicious.
“WHO?”
Dao shrugged.
“The dead refuse to mind their business.”
Typhoon zoomed his camera directly into North’s face.
“You’re blushing.”
“I AM NOT.”
“You are.”
North stood up instantly.
“I’m leaving.”
Easter laughed.
“Your class starts in ten minutes.”
North froze.
“…Fine.”
The four friends walked toward campus together while bickering endlessly.
Behind them, students whispered as usual.
Because the group was impossible to ignore.
North—the engineering prince with mafia connections.
Easter—the gentle veterinary student loved by every stray animal on campus.
Typhoon—the chaotic photography student constantly hanging from dangerous locations for ‘art.’
And Dao—the mysterious science major rumored to speak with ghosts.
Honestly…
The rumors were accurate.
—
Meanwhile, across the city, Johan leaned against his black motorcycle outside the medical building.
Girls secretly stared from nearby windows.
Some whispered.
Others took photos.
Johan ignored all of them.
Tall.
Cold.
Handsome enough to cause campus-wide disasters.
The heir to one of the most powerful business empires in the country.
And unfortunately for everyone around him…
He was in an absolutely terrible mood.
Hill walked outside first while fixing his tie.
Unlike Johan, Hill carried elegance naturally. Calm, intelligent, and already acting as director of his family’s hospital chain despite still being a third-year medical student.
Behind him came Tonfah carrying iced coffee and complaining loudly.
“If another professor assigns a thirty-page report, I’m committing crimes.”
Johan looked at him blankly.
“You already commit crimes.”
“That’s family business crimes. Academic crimes are different.”
Arthit finally exited the building last.
The moment he appeared, students moved away instinctively.
Not because Arthit did anything.
But because his aura screamed danger.
Tonfah immediately pointed at him.
“You look like you murdered someone.”
Arthit answered calmly.
“My father attacked a blender at two in the morning.”
Hill nodded sympathetically.
“That explains everything.”
Johan suddenly smirked slightly.
“Did North survive?”
“Barely.”
Tonfah laughed loudly.
“Your family belongs in reality television.”
“They’d cancel us after one episode,” Arthit replied.
“True.”
Johan crossed his arms.
“Where is North today?”
Arthit raised an eyebrow.
“Why?”
“No reason.”
Hill and Tonfah exchanged looks instantly.
Suspicious.
Very suspicious.
Tonfah slowly grinned.
“Oh?”
Johan glared immediately.
“Stop making that face.”
“What face?”
“The annoying one.”
Hill adjusted his glasses calmly.
“You asked about North first thing this morning.”
“I was being polite.”
Tonfah gasped dramatically.
“Johan knows politeness?”
Arthit silently drank coffee while watching the chaos unfold.
Interesting.
Very interesting.
—
That evening, the Derik mansion became louder than usual.
Because all the boys were there.
North sat upside down on the couch while Typhoon photographed the chandelier.
Easter treated an injured stray dog near the fireplace.
Dao painted peacefully in the corner while occasionally arguing with invisible ghosts.
Meanwhile, upstairs—
Johan, Hill, Tonfah, and Arthit discussed medical internships while reviewing mafia shipment routes simultaneously.
Which was somehow normal.
Tonfah looked horrified at the paperwork.
“How do criminals have this much paperwork?”
Hill answered immediately.
“Because crime is administrative.”
Johan nodded once.
“Unfortunately.”
Arthit leaned back in his chair.
“We also have the underground race this weekend.”
Tonfah sighed.
“Wonderful. Illegal racing after surgery practice. Our lives are stable and healthy.”
“Speak for yourself,” Johan replied.
Meanwhile downstairs—
North suddenly screamed.
“DAO YOUR GHOST IS STARING AT ME AGAIN.”
Dao looked up from painting.
“She thinks you’re cute.”
“THAT DOESN’T HELP.”
Typhoon nearly fell off the couch laughing.
Easter smiled softly while bandaging the dog.
“You attract unusual attention.”
North pointed accusingly.
“I blame Arthit.”
Arthit walked downstairs at that exact moment.
“You blame me for everything.”
“Yes.”
“Fair.”
Derik entered dramatically carrying fried chicken.
“Children! Family dinner!”
North frowned.
“Why are you holding chicken like a weapon?”
“Because respect must be earned.”
Tonfah whispered to Hill.
“I finally understand why Arthit became emotionally unavailable.”
Hill nodded seriously.
“The trauma started young.”
Derik heard that immediately.
“I HEARD YOU.”
“Good,” Tonfah replied fearlessly.
Soon everyone gathered around the massive dining table.
The atmosphere became loud instantly.
North and Tonfah fought over the last chicken wing.
Typhoon kept photographing food before anyone could eat.
Easter secretly fed vegetables to stray cats outside the window.
Dao casually informed everyone that a ghost disliked the wallpaper.
Hill attempted maintaining civilized conversation.
Failed completely.
And Johan…
Johan mostly watched North.
Watched him laugh.
Fight with Tonfah.
Complain dramatically.
Smile without fear despite growing up surrounded by danger.
It was strange.
Johan usually hated noisy people.
North was unbearably noisy.
Yet somehow…
Johan kept looking at him anyway.
Then suddenly—
North looked directly at him.
Their eyes met.
For one second, the entire table felt strangely quiet.
Then Tonfah ruined everything.
“OHHHHHH—”
North choked on water violently.
Johan immediately kicked Tonfah under the table.
Hill calmly continued eating like he saw nothing.
Arthit smirked slightly.
Derik looked between them slowly.
Then he grinned.
Dangerously.
Interesting.
Very interesting.
—
Later that night, North stood alone on the mansion balcony.
The city lights glowed beneath him while cool wind brushed through his hair.
For once, everything felt quiet.
Peaceful.
Then the balcony door opened.
North turned slightly.
Johan walked outside holding two cans of soda.
Without speaking, he handed one to North.
North accepted it carefully.
“Thanks.”
Silence settled between them.
Not awkward.
Just calm.
Below them, the city moved endlessly.
Cars.
Lights.
Noise.
Life.
Johan leaned against the railing.
“You laugh a lot.”
North blinked.
“That’s random.”
“It’s true.”
North looked forward again.
“Well… someone has to keep everyone sane.”
Johan smirked faintly.
“You fail often.”
“Excuse you.”
“You’re chaos.”
“You literally work for the mafia.”
“Professionally.”
North laughed loudly.
Johan watched him quietly again.
That laugh.
Warm.
Bright.
Dangerous.
Because Johan realized something terrifying.
He wanted to hear it more.
Meanwhile, inside the mansion—
Tonfah pressed dramatically against the window.
“HOLD ME BACK.”
Hill pulled him away immediately.
“You’re embarrassing.”
“I NEED DETAILS.”
Arthit sat on the couch calmly.
“They’ll figure it out eventually.”
Derik looked emotional already.
“My son is growing up.”
North yelled from the balcony without turning around.
“I CAN STILL HEAR YOU.”
Derik wiped fake tears.
“So beautiful.”
Typhoon took photos of everything.
“Excellent blackmail material.”
Easter sighed.
“This family is impossible.”
Dao nodded seriously.
“Even the ghosts think so.”
And honestly?
They weren’t wrong.
Because this was only the beginning.
The beginning of chaos.
Of love.
Of jealousy.
Of fights and late-night races.
Of kidnappings and loyalty.
Of friendships strong enough to survive anything.
And somewhere in the middle of all that madness…
Their hearts would slowly learn where they truly belonged.
To be continued….
