Dung snatched up the water ladle just as the intruder burst through the bathroom door. He hurled the water, but the man ducked fast.
"Knew you'd pull that stunt, you son of a bitch!" A familiar voice rang out.
Before Dung could even see his face, the man's hand clamped around his throat, slamming him against the wall.
"Didn't know you were rotten enough to throw your own brother behind bars."
The grip tightened, choking the air out of Dung—until suddenly the attacker hissed, jerking back as if his own neck had been slashed. He let go. Turned out Dung had his straight razor pressed to the man's skin all along.
Dung smirked. "Assault like this? I could toss you back in prison again, Hiền."
"You bastard!"
They broke apart. Dung snapped the blade shut and sneered. "What, a few nights in the slammer and already your mouth stinks like the latrine."
Hiền's fist shot out, crashing into Dung's jaw before he could block.
"I'll beat you to death, traitor! You money-grubbing dog, licking the boots of foreign powers!"
Dung cradled his bruised cheek, eyes sharp with contempt. "Idiot. You should thank me. I kept you and your two dumb pals from getting nailed for espionage. Know what happens to spies? They don't get trials—they get graves."
"You set us up!"
"You clowns marched out waving flags and raising hell. You think you could've outrun the cops with that circus act?"
"If you hadn't shown up and ruined the plan—"
"If I hadn't, you'd be a bullet shield for the real spy. Face it, Hiền—you're still wet behind the ears."
"Don't you dodge it, you shoved me into jail!"
"Yeah. On purpose. So you'd learn not to mess with my Út again."
"Scum!"
"Thank you. To play hero, you first gotta learn how to be scum."
"I spit on you! Don't feed me your crap speeches. End of the day, you're just a lapdog selling out your own people."
"Save your fake nationalism. It won't buy you rice or a shirt. Meanwhile, just one handshake from your mommy to the foreign power was enough to spring you out faster than your two buddies. See the picture now?"
"What the hell does she have to do with this?" Hiền barked.
A creak sounded on the iron stairs outside. Dung clapped a hand over Hiền's mouth. It took him only seconds to place the footsteps. Then he leaned in, voice low and hard:
"You'd better vanish. If Út catches sight of you, I swear your two friends will rot in their cells forever."
With that, Dung strode out of the bathroom—right as the door outside swung open.
"Uh… you…" Đông Anh froze at the sight of Dung standing there, barely dressed in the middle of the room.
"A surprise gift for my Út," Dung grinned.
"What?"
"Well, since you surprised me by showing up early, I figured I'd return the favor."
"Talking nonsense again!" Đông Anh scolded, though he still fell into those wide arms.
"Smell that? Just showered," Dung teased, brushing a hand across Đông Anh's cheek. Then he nudged him toward the wardrobe. "Come on, Út. Pick something for me to wear."
While distracting him, Dung slipped a hand behind his back, cracking the bathroom door just a sliver.
"What do you even want to wear?" Đông Anh asked, digging through the clothes.
"Anything. Whatever you likes." Dung spoke lightly as he strode toward the door leading down to the nightclub.
"What are you doing?" Đông Anh asked, watching him open it.
"Thought I heard something… guess not." Dung left the door slightly ajar and walked over toward Đông Anh. "Sit here, Út."
He shoved a chair up to the wardrobe and sat Đông Anh down, planting himself right in front, blocking the view.
"Picked out my clothes yet?"
"No. I don't know what you want to wear. And—wait—your face… did you get hurt?"
"It's nothing. Just a little scrap last night," Dung said, touching the cheek still raw from Hiền's punch.
"It's all red! Let me see!"
"Don't worry about it. Hurry, pick something."
"I don't know what to pick!"
A sudden noise rattled the room. Dung instantly cupped Đông Anh's face, leaning close enough that nothing else could be seen.
"So… does that mean you don't want me wearing anything at all?"
Startled, Đông Anh jabbed a fist into his stomach. Dung caught both wrists and pressed them to his own hard abs.
"Let go!"
"Your ears are red again, Út. After all this time, still shy around me?" Dung's eyes bored into the boy's. "The shyer you get, the crazier I fall for you."
He slid Đông Anh's hands lower, down toward what the towel concealed.
"New soap today," Dung murmured. "Not just a scent—there's a taste. Try it, Út."
When Đông Anh's soft lips met the skin of Dung's belly, Dung couldn't hold back a low moan. His hand threaded into Đông Anh's hair, holding gently. The pleasure that took hold of him made him ignore the third presence in the room.
"Út…" Dung groaned softly.
As soon as he slipped through the door that led down to Liberty, Hiền nearly tripped over something. If not for a strange girl who caught him and pulled him into a shadowed corner, he would have been seen by the two people making out inside the room.
"Shh, keep it down," the girl whispered.
Hiền stifled his breath and began to study her. She had a gentle, mild face and wore a sky-blue dress.
"I work here," Thiên Thanh said when she noticed his searching eyes.
"Why—"
As if she'd guessed his question, Thiên Thanh answered quickly: "When Mr. Út is here, Dung doesn't want anyone bothering him, so I pulled you out here."
"Đông Anh…" Hiền recalled the intimate scene he'd just witnessed. "Do Đông Anh and that guy… do that often?" Seeing the girl blink as if she didn't catch his meaning, he rephrased: "I mean… does Đông Anh come here a lot and stay alone with Dung?"
Thiên Thanh nodded. "This nightclub belongs to Mr. Út's family. He's been coming here a lot lately."
"And always behind closed doors, just the two of them?"
The girl nodded again and gave a small, understanding laugh.
"That bastard must have lured Đông Anh—there's no way Đông Anh would ever… do that." Hiền thought. Then he studied her face, weighing whether she was someone he could squeeze for information.
"I thought Dung fancied Ms. Tư," Hiền said.
"He used to, yes. But since Mr. Út came back…"
"So Út brings Dung more benefits than Ms. Tư did?" Hiền cut in.
"I've seen it—since he started tagging along with Mr. Út, Dung got the manager job at Liberty and is reaping all kinds of benefits… Oh!" Thiên Thanh clapped a hand over her mouth. "…I blurted. You're Dung's friend, right? Don't tell this to anyone!"
Hiền just mumbled vaguely, leaving it unclear whether he agreed or not.
"By the way… what's your name?" he shifted the subject.
"Thiên Thanh."
"Thiên Thanh—thanks for earlier. You been working here long?"
"Not really. I just started—cleaning staff."
"Ah, I thought… anyway, watch out for Dung. Don't let him rope you in." Seeing Thiên Thanh's wide, innocent eyes, Hiền added, "Do you know what Dung really does?"
She shook her head.
"He's a pimp. That's how he got to know Mr. Liễu. Just be careful—don't become his prey."
Thiên Thanh still looked puzzled.
"Haven't you noticed he sometimes disappears for days with Mr. Liễu?"
"I thought they were on business trips."
"Business is a cover. Truth is, Dung takes girls to Mr. Liễu."
"How do you know that?"
"Because I live with him. I know what he does. Believe it or not, I just want you to be careful."
Thiên Thanh nodded gratefully.
"Well, I'll be off."
"Oh—watch the wooden stairs. Avoid the third step; it groans real loud."
Hiền patted her shoulder. "Thanks, you're kind."
"What's your name?"
"Hiền."
"Aren't you the student leader from the protests? You look familiar."
"You follow that stuff?"
"Of course. I admire people brave enough to fight, like you."
Hiền smiled and turned away. From the corner, the girl watched his retreating back with an expression that was hard to read.