Chapter 23: The Ashes of the Campfire
The resort’s private beach at night. The large campfire had burned down, leaving only a dying ember, flickering in the sea breeze. Most people had gone to their rooms. The noise had dissipated, returning the space to its original silence. There was only the steady, incessant sound of the waves, and the strong smell of salt in the air.
Ngan sat on the sand, her knees drawn up, her eyes staring blankly at the dying embers of the fire. She was tired. Deeply tired, not from the day’s activities, but from constantly walking the tightrope, constantly maintaining the balance between three worlds, a game that consumed all her mental energy.
Tung sat not far from her, in the shadows, a silent guardian. He said nothing, just silently watched her, and his eyes were filled with undisguised worry. At the water’s edge, Minh was a restless figure. He occasionally kicked the waves lapping at the shore, like a caged animal, frustrated and impatient at not having her full attention.
Two extremes. One safe. One chaotic. And she was in the middle.
Tung walked forward, his footsteps sinking in the sand. He sat down next to Ngan, his voice warm and sincere. “It’s late, go home and rest. You look tired. Let me take you home.”
An offer of safety. A harbor.
Minh, hearing this, immediately walked up from the beach. His voice was full of sarcasm, an undisguised provocation. “Oh my god, the ‘national younger brother’ is here. Sister Nuoi is all grown up, she can go home by herself, she doesn’t need a bodyguard.”
Ngan sighed, a breath of exhaustion. She stood up, brushing the sand off her skirt. “Okay, you two stop arguing. I’m tired.” She looked at Tung, and in her eyes was a look of guilt, but also of determination. “Thank you, Tung, but I’ll go with Minh’s group and the girls. You stay and help everyone clean up.”
A choice was made. A subconscious choice, disguised as politeness. She rejected Tung’s safe harbor, and chose to walk toward Minh’s storm.
Tung stood still. He watched her figure walk away, blending into Minh’s noisy group. His face, in the dim light of the embers, was a picture of hurt and disappointment. The girl he wanted to protect had just chosen to walk toward danger. He had been rejected. And he felt like he had just lost the most precious thing.
The long, quiet corridor of the villa was lit by dim yellow lights, casting long, ghostly shadows on the polished tile floor. The air was cool from the air conditioning, a sharp contrast to the humid heat of the beach.
At first, the hallway echoed with the loud laughter of the group of people accompanying Ngan. But then, like a fading melody, one by one they separated, turning to their own rooms. A door closed. Then another. The laughter faded, then stopped.
Finally, the hallway was left with only two people. Ngan and Minh. The silence suddenly fell, stifling. The sound of their footsteps on the tiled floor became too loud, echoing ominously, like the drumbeat of a ritual about to begin.
The dynamics changed. Minh stopped walking parallel to her. He slowed down a bit, staying behind her. Ngan didn’t need to look to feel it. She could feel his eyes on the back of her neck, the movement of her hips as she walked. A predatory, possessive gaze. A non-physical touch, but it made her skin hot.
A feeling of unease crept into Ngan’s heart. She walked a little faster, just wanting to get back to her room, where there was safety behind a door. The familiar hallway suddenly seemed endless, like a road with no way out, and the predator was still silently following.
She finally reached her door. The familiar wooden door had never looked so desirable. She breathed a sigh of relief, a breath she hadn’t known she’d been holding. Her hand frantically searched her purse for her room key. She assumed he’d say goodnight and leave, calling it a day.
She found the card. She held it to the lock. The chapter ended in that moment, the moment she believed she had reached safety, a moment suspended between the door and the beast standing behind it.
Right in front of Ngan’s room door. The quiet air suddenly became thick, tense like a guitar string. The small “beep” sound of the electronic lock had just sounded, a sound of safety, when immediately, a large, rough hand from behind grabbed her hand that was holding the card, pressing hard on the wooden door. At the same time, Minh’s other hand pressed against the door, right next to her head. He had created a cage of flesh, blocking all escape routes.
Ngan jumped, a muffled “Ah!” sound in her throat. Her whole body was pressed against the cold door. The heat from Minh’s strong chest blew against her back, and his alcohol-scented breath blew against her neck and hair, making her shiver. An electric current ran down her spine, a mixture of fear and a sickening excitement.
“Minh?” Ngan’s voice was panicked and angry. She tried to struggle. “What are you doing? Let go!”
Minh didn’t let go. He growled, his voice hoarse and angry, like an animal claiming its territory. “Wait, Sister Nurturing.” He used force to turn her around, forcing her to face him. Her back was still pressed against the door, there was no way back. “I’ve had to share you with too many people all day. Tung, Quan, and those idiots at the beach. I’m tired.”
He looked straight into her eyes. His eyes were dark with lust and jealousy, a fire that burned away all reason. His voice was decisive, like a verdict.
“Now, I don’t want to share anymore.”
He didn’t wait for her to answer. He leaned down and captured her lips. A fierce, devouring kiss, without any tenderness. This wasn’t a kiss, it was an act of power. His teeth bit lightly on her lips, and his tongue pried them open, entering roughly, stirring. The wet, aggressive sound of lips and tongue echoed in the quiet hallway. Ngan tried to resist, but her body began to betray her. A “mmm…” sound escaped from her throat, a sound of unwanted surrender. And in her head, a sinful thought rang out: “So good… so good…”
The hallway was quiet. After the possessive kiss, Minh let Ngan go, but only for a moment. He still held her in his arms, her back pressed against the door. Ngan was breathing heavily, her mind a jumble of fear and a sinful excitement. She wanted to push him away, but also to see how crazy he would be.
Minh was at the peak of his frustration. He knew he couldn’t go into Ngan’s room. His eyes scanned the hallway like a hungry animal looking for a place to eat its prey. He needed an immediate solution, a private space, even if it was temporary.
His eyes stopped. A few steps away, a wooden door was ajar. The study. A wild smile, of someone who had just found a way out, appeared on his lips. He said nothing more. He grabbed Ngan’s wrist, a tight grip, and pulled her away.
“Minh, are you crazy?” Ngan whispered, urgent, but without much resistance. “What are you going to do? Who’s coming in now!”
Minh whispered as he pulled her away, his hot breath on her ear, a dangerous promise. “Then hurry. I can’t wait any longer, Sister Nurturing.”
He gently pushed open the study door, pulling her into the darkness, then gently closed it. But he didn’t lock it. The click of the latch didn’t ring. A fatal mistake.
They were plunged into near-total darkness. The smell of old books and dust filled their nostrils, a scent of antiquity, of forgotten secrets. The thrill and danger of an illicit love affair, of being caught at any moment, made them both hold their breath. Their hearts pounded, a shared rhythm of guilt and desire.
The reading room was dark. The only light was a faint beam from the hallway that shone through the crack in the door, cutting through the darkness like a knife. The air was thick with the smell of old books, dust, and forbidden desire. The sound of the wind whistling through the window and the rustling of leaves outside created a creepy soundtrack to the illicit lovemaking.
Minh didn’t give Ngan a second to collect herself. He pushed her back onto the large leather sofa in the middle of the room. Her bare back made contact with the cold leather surface, a heavy “thud” sounded, and she shivered slightly. The sofa made a “creaking” sound in protest.
He didn’t kiss her lips. He went straight for his target. He buried his face between her breasts, inhaling deeply, the breath of a starving man who had just found food. His voice, muffled between her breasts, growled with desire.
“Your breasts… I miss them so much… I’ve been thinking about them all day…”
He had no time for modesty. He used one hand to pull down her dress, revealing her breasts still covered by her thin bra. His mouth took one nipple through the wet fabric, sucking hard, making wet, crude “chut chut” sounds. His other hand slid behind her back, trying to unhook her bra in a hasty, clumsy manner. A small “clack” of metal echoed in the silence.
Ngan let out a small, muffled “Ah!” cry, but she quickly covered her mouth with her hand, a reflex of fear of being discovered. His roughness and haste, combined with the fear of being exposed, created a pleasure that was both painful and ecstatic. Her back arched, her hands gripped his shoulders, her fingers digging into her flesh, a surrender of instinct. “So good… so good… don’t stop…” – the words were just a thought, an unspoken moan.
“Cup.”
He finally unhooked her bra. Her breasts were freed, bouncing freely. In the darkness, they looked like two full, white, inviting moons. He looked at them, panting, preparing for his urgent “worship”.
On the cold leather sofa, the struggle with clothes continued in a hurried and terrifying silence. This was not a seductive undress, it was a race against time and the fear of being discovered.
Minh’s mouth was still busy on Ngan’s chest, making wet “chut chut” sounds, while his hand reached down, hastily pulling her panties down to her knees. The fabric rustled roughly. Ngan was no longer lying still. She sat up, helping him wrestle with the belt and jeans zipper. Her fingers trembled with urgency. The jeans zipper “squeaked”, a piercing sound in the silence.
“Hurry up… hurry up…” – Ngan whispered, her voice urgent, an urging.
“Fuck…” – Minh screamed when the lock got stuck.
Their naked flesh touched the leather surface of the sofa. Ngan’s bare back stuck to the cold leather, and every time she moved, it made a small “squeak” sound, a betraying sound that startled them both, hearts pounding in their chests.
Finally, he got his pants off. His erection sprang out, hot, a vital presence against the cold air in the room. There was a soft “slurp.” He had no condom, and in this frenzy, in the urgency of desire and fear, neither of them thought about it or cared. It was a complete recklessness, an abandonment of all reason.
A thick, rough “phập” sound. Minh thrust in without any gentleness. Ngan bit her lips, a painful “um” was stuck in her throat. “Hurry up…” – she whispered, a panicked plea.
His rhythm was fast, urgent and chaotic. The slapping of flesh and the squeaking of leather sofas became sounds of sin. Ngan’s moans were just fearful whimpers.
“Minh… I’m scared…” – she hiccupped. “Someone…
“Shh… quiet…” he whispered, his breathing quickening. “Almost there… Hold on…”
At that moment, a sound came from outside. A loud laugh. Then footsteps. Clear and getting closer.