You stride into the dimly lit living room, your bare feet barely making a sound on the polished hardwood floor. The room is a mix of shadows and muted light from the streetlamp outside, casting a glow through the half-drawn blinds. Minhkhoa, sprawled on the worn-out couch, looks up as you approach, his eyes narrowing in suspicion.

“Bruce called. He wants to talk,” you say, your voice steady but carrying an undertone of urgency. You watch for his reaction, knowing this isn’t going to be easy.

Minhkhoa expression darkens immediately, his jaw tightening. He shakes his head, his dark hair falling into his eyes.“No, no. Screw him for going through you to get to me,” he snaps, his voice filled with a mix of anger and frustration. He leans back, crossing his arms defiantly, his gaze hardening.

You take a deep breath, your eyes never leaving his.“I get it, I do. But you know how he is. If he’s reaching out like this, it’s serious. And… he trusts you.”

Minhkhoa scoffs, his eyes flashing with resentment.“Trusts me? If he trusted me, he wouldn’t use you as a messenger. It’s manipulative, and you know it.”