At the top of the staircase, the Liễu siblings stood face-to-face, each wearing their own brand of arrogance.
"Well now, all dressed up so sharp—where's little Út off to tonight?" Ms. Tư gave Đông Anh a once-over.
"And you, decked out in fireworks like that, surely it's a date?" Đông Anh shot back without missing a beat.
"It's called networking, darling. Work, not play."
They both flashed the same smug smile before starting down the stairs together.
"But heavens, your 'favorite driver' won't be chauffeuring you tonight. He's still buried up to his neck running that nightclub. Want me to drag him back so you can order him around?"
"Forget it, just let me ride with you. Alright?" Đông Anh asked with a smile.
"Fine. But where exactly?"
"Same place as you—Liberty."
That stopped her cold. She blinked, staring at her little brother. "You… what business do you have there?"
"Why else? To play," Đông Anh replied, deadpan.
"You? Play?"
"What's with you? Wasn't it you, the very day I got back here, who kept pushing me to go hang out at Liberty?
She grabbed his hand, pressing, "You've got someone waiting for you there, don't you?"
"Nope. Just going for the fun of it. And besides, might as well drop in on my 'favorite driver.'"
He grinned, smug as ever, then strode straight out the door.
"That boy… what a damn oddball," Ms. Tư muttered under her breath.
.
At Liberty, ten o'clock was always peak hour. Tonight, the nightclub buzzed even louder—every VIP table booked solid. The manager dashed back and forth, sweat pouring down, though the plastic smile never once left his face.
"Dung!" A waiter scurried up to him.
"What is it?"
"Ms. Tư just arrived. But the center VIP table by the stage, we already set it aside for Mr. Bảy Râu."
Dung tossed back a shot, scowling. "Then seat her somewhere else. Tell her the VIP's already booked. She's family, not a paying guest. What's there to fuss about?"
He made to leave but the waiter caught his arm.
"Hold up, sir! Mr. Út showed up too. Should I send one of the girls over?"
Dung rapped him on the head. "Who told you to get smart? Why didn't you say he was here first? Go tell Bảy Râu that table's been reserved already."
"But just now you said—"
"Move it!" Dung cut him off, shoving through the crowd in search of his real VIP.
"Ms. Tư, Út! Why didn't you tell me you were coming, I'd have met you at the door."
He flashed a perfunctory smile at the sister, but his eyes clung tight to Đông Anh.
"Funny," Ms. Tư sniffed, "today, just 'cause Út shows up, you're all warm and welcoming. Normally I walk in, you barely blink."
"Oh, Ms. Tư's here so often, you're family by now. But Út? He rarely graces us—of course I've gotta roll out the carpet." One hand pressed gently against Đông Anh's back, ushering him forward. "Come on, both of you—VIP section's waiting."
"But I saw Mr. Bảy Râu sitting there," Ms. Tư pointed out.
"Let him be. No matter how 'VIP,' he moves when the Liễu family shows up."
This time Dung walked alongside the sister, one arm hovering politely behind her… while the other hand secretly clutched her brother's from behind. In the dim haze and flashing lights, such tricks were all too easy.
Once the honored siblings were settled, Dung asked, "Ms. Tư, same drink as usual?"
She nodded.
"And for Út? Something without alcohol?"
"No way. He said himself he came here to play tonight—so play proper." Ms. Tư jabbed at her brother.
Dung, seated right beside Đông Anh, widened his eyes in mock shock. "Well, tonight we drink till we drop."
"You'd better ask my sister. If she says no, how dare I?" Đông Anh countered, still locked in that quiet duel with her.
"Who am I to rein in the golden boy of the family? Whatever you do, the family will turn a blind eye. Hey, Dung, fetch one of your girls to keep Út company!"
Dung leaned closer, his voice low. "Do you want company, Út?"
"I do. Anyone worth my time?" Đông Anh shot back with an unusually bold retort.
"Of course. Here at Liberty, whatever you want, you'll get. I'll bring you the most tempting one of all."
The curve of Dung's mouth sharpened as he fixed his gaze on the boy. Across the table, Ms. Tư didn't blink, watching every flicker between the two men.
When the drinks arrived, Dung swiftly placed one in front of Ms. Tư, then passed the other to Đông Anh. Or almost. Whether by accident—or intent—he let the glass slip too soon. Đông Anh fumbled, and though Dung caught it in time, the splash had already soaked the boy's trousers.
"Damn it, sorry, Út. Let me wipe that."
Dung whipped out a handkerchief and dabbed eagerly at Đông Anh's thigh. So eagerly, in fact, that the boy flushed scarlet, grabbing his hand to stop him. But Dung's face stayed cool as ever.
"No good. You'll have to come with me—I'll get those pants dried."
Without a shred of shame, he clasped Đông Anh's hand and pulled him away, ignoring the stares. Ms. Tư half-rose, itching to drag her brother back, but no excuse came to her lips. All she could do was watch their retreating figures vanish into the crowd. The knot in her chest tightening.
Time slipped by in a haze of drunken chatter and syrupy music—sweet enough for the ears, but never enough to soothe the restlessness gnawing in Ms. Tư's chest. She sat alone with her cocktail, lips sealed, waiting for her brother to return.
Minutes dragged. Too long.
"What are those two up to, vanishing like that? If that sly bastard Dung is pulling tricks on my naïve little brother, then what if—what if…"
She slammed her cocktail down on the table. Enough. She had to see for herself.
Slipping past the crowd, she crept up the rickety wooden staircase that led to the attic room. Each step groaned under her weight; she tried to plant her feet softly, but the final stair shrieked out anyway. And mixed with that creak was a sound that froze her blood—short, ragged, breathless moans. Faint, yet unmistakable.
Her heart lurched. She lunged for Dung's door, only to be blocked by a figure.
"Ms. Tư, you can't go in there."
"You brat—do you know who I am, daring to—"
"Yes, I know," Thiên Thanh cut in, tugging her firmly back toward the stairs. "There's a VIP guest inside. Please understand."
"VIP guest? That's Dung's room."
"Yes, ma'am. But the VIP's in there. Still… occupied."
"Occupied…?" The memory of those gasping moans crashed back into her. "Who's in there?!"
"Shh, please! Keep your voice down. If Mr. Dung finds out I let you get this close, I'll be out on the street."
"I'm the real boss here!"
"Yes, ma'am. But I'm begging you—please, go back downstairs."
"No! I need to know who's in there. Is it my brother?"
"I don't know, truly. All I know is there's a VIP guest tonight."
"And Dung—he's inside too, isn't he?"
"Uh—he's probably downstairs with the customers. Why don't you wait in the lounge, I'll fetch him for you?"
"How could Dung be downstairs right now?"
Thiên Thanh nodded anyway, insisting.
"You dare lie to me and I swear you'll regret it!"
"Yes, Ms. Tư. I'll get Mr. Dung right away."
"And bring Út too. Both of them. Where the hell have they gone all this time..." She cut herself short, choking back the thought she didn't dare finish. "God, what the hell are they doing up here…"
.
On the drive home, inside the car, Ms. Tư shot a glare at her brother. His hair was a mess, his shirt half tucked, one button crooked. Below, his slacks were wrinkled like they'd been yanked on in a rush.
"Don't tell me…" She finally let her thoughts spill into words. "Where the hell did you just crawl out from?"
"Crawl? I was just drying my clothes," Đông Anh answered, face still dazed.
"Drying clothes? You look more like you just..." She cut herself short.
"Just what?"
"Just... damn it! Where the hell were you this whole time? Why couldn't I find you?"
"With Dung."
"You mean in his room? Just the two of you?"
At her furious tone, Đông Anh only dragged out his reply, deliberate and calm.
"Dung had to dry my clothes for me. Who else would I be with?"
"But you're both men. How could you be so… casual?"
"Exactly. Because we're men, it's natural to strip in front of each other."
He leaned into the words, each one deliberate, just to needle her. Truth was, he'd never imagined he'd speak so brazenly. But the thrill of doing the things he'd never dared before—that was intoxicating. For once, he could spit his dislike straight into his sister's face. The more her cheeks burned with outrage, the more he wanted to push. Fresh from the rush of lust, the thought of turning bad tasted even sweeter.
Ms. Tư ground her teeth, smacking his thigh with a sharp slap.
"Don't you dare pull any of your crazy stunts. If I catch you, you're dead."
"You jealous? Mad I stole one of your little pleasures?"
Her lips curled into a sneer. "So you admit you stole him? And you think I'd be jealous? Let me remind you, little brother—Dung's a greedy bastard. He's never sincere with anyone."
Her eyes drilled into him, waiting for a retort. But the boy sat frozen, face blank, as if lost in some heavy thought. She chuckled inwardly. "You think you're cleverer than me?" Then her gaze flicked to the faint red mark on his neck. A bruise, or a kiss? Her stomach went cold. "That foolish boy… has he already fallen into Dung's trap?"