Vinson

The familiar voice cut through the air like a whip, startling them both. Gaara jerked back at once, while Esther seized the chance to cover her chest and slip off the kitchen table, putting as much distance between herself and the young master as she could. Shock and shame collided within her, tightening around her chest until she could hardly breathe. Panic prickled her skin. What if Stella had noticed the faint marks Gaara’s mouth had left on her?

Esther dared a quick glance at Gaara. His expression was nothing short of thunderous; frustration carved into every line of his face, as though the stolen pleasure had been ripped away too abruptly. His dark eyes flashed with annoyance as he cast a sharp, searing look toward his assistant, who stood only a few steps away from them.

“Hold on, don’t glare at me like that, Master Gaara,” Stella said calmly, unfazed by the intensity of his stare. “I raised my voice on purpose. Because if I hadn’t, you probably wouldn’t have realized that your friend has been waiting for you at the kitchen door this whole time.”

And as if on cue, the “friend” Stella had mentioned stepped out from behind her. His arms were crossed over his chest, and he wore the most insolent smile imaginable. It was Vinson—the one man Esther despised more than anyone on campus, notorious for his shameless hobby of bothering her whenever he pleased. Instantly, her expression tightened in clear displeasure at his presence.

“I had no idea you were in the middle of enjoying yourself, Gaara,” Vinson drawled, his voice laced with mockery. “I never intended to interrupt. Honestly, I was about to leave, but then your assistant appeared and decided to shout.” He gave a careless shrug toward Stella before turning his gaze back to Gaara and then to Esther.

For a brief moment, Vinson’s eyes lingered on her, scanning her from head to toe with a look that felt more like ridicule than curiosity. Then he shifted his attention back to Gaara, smirking. “I think you need a cold shower, Gaara. We’ll talk afterward.”

With that, Gaara left the room, his expression unreadable. Stella, too, excused herself, murmuring something about tending to Gaara’s needs elsewhere.

And so it was only Esther and Vinson now. An arrangement that made her feel far from at ease. The air seemed to thicken with discomfort, her heart drumming in her chest as his mocking presence filled the silence.

“Well, well… Esther,” Vinson drawled, clapping his hands in a slow, mocking rhythm, each strike an insult in itself. As if all the torment he had inflicted upon her at campus wasn’t enough, here he was again, cornering her once more. It was as though tormenting her was the only way he knew how to breathe.

Esther fixed him with a flat, expressionless stare, though inside her chest, disgust churned violently. Every syllable of her name, spoken in that sickeningly sweet, fabricated tone, made her stomach twist. Yet she couldn’t muster a retort. Shame clamped down on her voice. After all, this man had just caught her in the middle of something shameful, something she could hardly admit to herself. The humiliation burned too brightly for her to fight back.

“Who would’ve thought,” Vinson sneered, stepping closer, “that Esther, the purest angel of the entire campus. Would let herself be pawed at by a delinquent like Gaara?” His words dripped with venom as he closed the distance between them, savoring every inch of her discomfort.

Esther tried to ignore him, forcing herself to act as if he weren’t even there, as if his presence didn’t exist. He was nothing but a blemish in her life, and so what difference did it make if he chose to spit poison now?

“Hah… still got the nerve to play haughty and brush me off, do you?” Vinson taunted, his voice tightening as he moved behind her. Esther’s shoulders stiffened instantly at the feel of his presence, his shadow looming close. “Do you really think being kissed and fondled by Gaara makes you the victor?”

His words curled into her ear, sharp and cold, like a blade. “Do you honestly believe you’re the only woman Gaara’s ever touched like that in this kitchen?” The sneer in his tone was unmistakable; each word meant to cut deeper than the last.

Esther’s cheeks burned crimson, the heat rising not only from humiliation but from the bitter truth she could not deny. Deep down, she knew that she was not the only one, and that very knowledge made her feel unbearably foolish for what had already transpired. The thought of Gaara touching other women in the same place, whispering the same things, stealing the same intimacies. It pressed against her chest like a crushing weight, suffocating her.

Vinson let out a low, satisfied chuckle as he caught the shadow of pain flitting across her face. He had succeeded. The jagged words he hurled had found their mark, carving into her like a knife. “To be honest,” he murmured almost gleefully, “this is the first time I’ve ever caught him with a woman. And imagine my surprise of all people, it had to be you. Esther.” His grin widened, cruel and deliberate. “But don’t fool yourself. You’re nothing compared to the women he’s already taken to his bed.”

“What do you want from me?” Esther’s voice, sharp and trembling, finally broke through. She was done letting him spit venom unchecked. Her ears burned with the weight of his mockery, her whole body trembling between shame and rage.

“Shouldn’t I be the one asking?” Vinson countered smoothly, and before she could retreat, his hands clamped down on her shoulders. His grip was merciless, almost bruising, forcing her to flinch at the sting.

“Whatever I choose to do here. It’s none of your business!” Esther snapped, her fury cutting through the humiliation at last.

“Oh, really?” Vinson leaned closer, his breath brushing past her ear, his voice a coil of menace. “Do you even realize who you’re talking to right now?”

“Yes,” Esther hissed, her eyes flashing as she finally twisted to meet his gaze. “A vile, meddlesome bastard who can’t keep his filthy nose out of other people’s lives.”

“At least I’m not the kind of girl who pretends to be pure and untouchable on campus,” Vinson sneered, his voice dripping with venom, “only to be found wandering around in a man’s house at dawn without so much as her pants on.” He tilted his head, feigning pity, but his words cut like shards of glass. “Esther, Esther… just look at you now. You’ve practically confessed how cheap that so-called dignity of yours really is.”