"How many rooms would you like?"
The hotel receptionist, sweet-faced and all smiles, looked up from her desk.
Dung hesitated, then replied, "Two VIPs—one double, one single."
Immediately, he caught the sharp glare from Đông Anh. Dung shrugged.
"Mis. Tư gets her own room. I'll bunk with you, sir—just in case you need anything."
"That's unnecessary!" Đông Anh turned to the receptionist.
"Make it three singles, please."
"No. Two rooms," Ms. Tư interjected.
"I said I don't need a roommate. I can handle myself."
"Two rooms, just like he said," Ms. Tư snapped, slapping her hand on the counter.
"You, you'll get your own room, don't worry," she said with a smirk. "The double's for me and Dung."
"You can't be serious!"
"I'm dead serious."
Grabbing the key to the double, she tossed her hair and strutted off. Đông Anh chased after her, leaving Dung to settle the bill.
"Tư, you're a woman—how can you share a room with a man?" Đông Anh hissed, trying to keep his voice low.
"Oh, get off your high horse. What century do you think we're living in? What I do is my business."
All three stepped into the elevator. As soon as the doors closed, Đông Anh grabbed Ms. Tư wrist and raised his voice.
"I won't let you do something so… indecent!"
"Let go of me, you're not my Dad!" she snapped back. "Mom let me come so I could look after you—not so you could stick your nose in my affairs."
"Oh, now you remember Mom?" Đông Anh said, teeth clenched. "You think she'd be fine with this if I told her?"
"Even Dad couldn't stop me—what makes you think you can?"
"You're—completely shameless!"
"And you're a goddamn hypocrite."
"If you don't care about yourself, at least think about our family's reputation. You want people gossiping that you're shacking up with a servant?"
As soon as the words left his mouth, Đông Anh froze, sneaking a glance at Dung.
The elevator dinged. Dung, face unreadable, stepped out and held the door open for them. He said calmly:
"No need to fight, Mis. Sir. If sharing a room with me is such a scandal, you two can take the double."
"Absolutely not!" both siblings shouted in unison.
"Then each of you take a room, and I'll sleep somewhere else," Dung offered.
"Don't listen to him," Ms. Tư said, tugging Dung closer. "He can't stop me. I've got the key."
She waved it tauntingly at her brother until Đông Anh yanked it out of her hand.
"Guess what? The double's mine now." His voice was ice-cold as he stormed off.
"Well then!" she yelled after him. "Thanks to you, the two of us will be sharing a bed!"
Đông Anh spun on his heel and snapped at Dung:
"If you don't come here right now, don't bother speaking to me again!"
Đông Anh held up the key like his unspoken command clear. Then he turned and disappeared into the room, slamming the door shut behind him.
"Just ignore him, Dung! Let's head to our room."
Ms. Tư took the other key from Dung's hand, dragged him to room 401, opened the door, and gave him a gentle push inside.
After neatly placing her suitcase in the corner, Dung said politely,
"Get some rest, Mis. Tư. I'll excuse myself now."
"What, you're actually going over there? To stay with that brat?"
Her glare was fierce. Dung looked away.
"To be honest, he's got a point. We should probably keep things discreet."
She grabbed his elbow, clinging tight.
"Discreet? After all the streets we've walked together? Since when did you start caring what people think? And this isn't even Saigon!"
Dung gently pried her fingers off his arm.
"You hungry? Go get changed, I'll take you out for food. I'll wait in the lobby."
As he turned to leave, she fired one last warning:
"If you go stay with him, don't even think about talking to me again!"
"Damn it. They really are siblings," Dung muttered under his breath and walked out anyway.
Behind him, the sound of a door slamming echoed down the hall.
"Damn it!" Dung cursed, storming off toward Đông Anh's room. He stopped short in front of the closed door, scowling.
"What's the point of going in? He called me a damn servant earlier," Dung muttered to himself, stung with indignation. "Screw both of them. Let 'em sort it out."
He turned on his heel toward the elevator just as Đông Anh's door swung open behind him. He glanced back to see the boy's thunderous face glaring at him. With the full weight of a master's authority, Đông Anh didn't say a word but it was enough to make Dung quietly step inside.
Dung shut the door behind him and leaned against the wall, arms crossed, eyes on the boy who had summoned him… only to give him the silent treatment.
"Well, sir? You feeling awkward sharing a room with a lowly servant?" Dung asked, biting.
"Tell me," Đông Anh snapped, his anger boiling over. "Have you slept with my sister?"
Dung raised an eyebrow, unfazed. "Why do you want to know?"
"Just answer me. Did you or didn't you?"
"And if I did? If I didn't? What then? You gonna tell your daddy to kick me out?"
"What the hell do you even want with her?" Đông Anh pressed in. "You actually like her? Or are you just using her to crawl your way into my family?"
Dung scoffed. "Wow. That's how low you think I am?"
"Then say you didn't! If you're not some scumbag, then say it, tell me you didn't sleep with her!"
Furious, Đông Anh jabbed a finger hard into Dung's chest. Dung grabbed both his wrists, holding him still.
"Sir, tell me the real reason you're mad at me."
"Do you really have to ask?"
"I already apologized for showing up late."
"Oh sure. Like that fixes everything. You didn't even bother saying a damn word to me—"
"I called your house."
"And then you had the nerve to laugh and joke with my sister. Right in front of me! You think I'm made of stone or what?"
"You brought her along. You should've known this could happen."
"I brought her? You let her tag along without telling me a damn thing!"
"What are you even talking about?" Dung ran a hand through his hair, exasperated. "What exactly are you angry about, huh? What do you want from me?"
Dung took a deep breath, held it in, and stared at Đông Anh, waiting. But the boy said nothing. He let out a sharp exhale, then drew another breath—deeper this time, trying to shove the frustration back down. Then, gently, Dung placed his hands on Đông Anh's cheeks and spoke softly:
"Sir… just tell me why you really care about any of this. Say it, and I swear—I'll do whatever you want."
Đông Anh hesitated, letting himself get lost in Dung's pleading eyes.
"I…"
"Whatever you're feeling right now—just say it," Dung urged, voice soft, hopeful.
But Đông Anh simply brushed his hands away—and just like that, the hope bubbling in Dung burst like a soap bubble.
"I want you to keep your distance from my sister," Đông Anh said coldly.
"Then maybe you should start by telling your sister to do the same," Dung shot back. He turned, pulled the door open, and walked out.
"Where are you going?"
"Finding a place that suits my lowly status."
Out in the hallway, Dung stood fuming by the elevator. He scoffed at himself. What a joke—thinking he could hope for anything more.
The elevator dinged, and as the doors opened, his own reflection stared back at him in the mirrored wall.
"That's right, pimp," he told himself. "Your job is to get this golden boy back to the seminary. Don't forget it!"