Kiss the Scumbag-Chapter 64

She went on and on about the party. Curtains — which ones she’d change and how. Flowers — where to get them and from whom. Invitation designs — wouldn’t it be lovely if they looked a certain way. An endless stream of ideas that sounded like she’d stayed up all night brainstorming. Winston let it all wash over him, in one ear and out the other.

“Invite Evelyn.”

He wiped his mouth with a napkin and spoke. His mother nodded with a pleased smile, but Winston, expressionless, added,

“You don’t need to worry about the preparations. Yujin and Cain will handle it. Just leave it be.”

The expression vanished from Mrs. Campbell’s face in an instant. She looked stunned, as if she’d been slapped. Winston rose from his seat, signaling that the conversation was over. Predictably, she didn’t let it go.

“Winston, what on earth are you saying?”

She grabbed his arm before he could leave, her voice sharp and cold.

“This is the Campbell family’s party — the first one since you inherited the house — and you’re entrusting it to that thing? I must have misheard, or you misspoke.”

“No,”

Winston said flatly, not shaking her hand off.

“You heard me right. Yujin will host the party. If you’d like to help, go ahead. I don’t care.”

“Winston.”

She couldn’t hold back anymore. Mrs. Campbell stood up abruptly, eyes blazing with rage.

“Cancel it. Right now. Don’t be ridiculous. That filthy thing — something no one even knows where it came from — hosting a Campbell event? Have your pheromones gotten to your head? Is that why you’ve lost your mind?”

Winston looked down at her without a word. When she caught the look of disgust in his eyes, she faltered. That’s when he finally spoke.

“My mind is perfectly clear. Yujin will host the party. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to get to work.”

He said only what needed to be said and turned to leave. Behind him, Mrs. Campbell spat out coldly,

“Don’t tell me you’ve fallen for that thing again?”

Winston stopped. Slowly, he turned to face her. His eyes were full of contempt and fury. The sight made her instinctively take a step back, but she couldn’t resist a final warning.

“Don’t forget what it turned you into.”

There was a pause — a short silence thick with tension. Winston narrowed his eyes and curled his lip into a sneer.

“I remember.”

He added, almost in a whisper,

“Far too well.”

With that, he turned and walked out of the breakfast room. This time, Mrs. Campbell didn’t stop him. Instead, she sank into the ★ 𝐍𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 ★ chair with a deep sigh, like the wind had been knocked out of her. Her head throbbed. She pressed her hand to her forehead and stared into space, her expression darkening.

What the hell is that boy thinking?

Even though he was her own flesh and blood, she could never figure him out. She swallowed a bitter sigh, replaying the conversation. The only relief was that Winston’s feelings toward Yujin didn’t seem to have changed all that much.

Of course they haven’t, she thought bitterly.

Mrs. Campbell stood, her face grim. A maid who had come to check if she needed anything quickly stepped aside. She didn’t even glance at her as she swept out of the breakfast room and down the hallway, thinking to herself:

It wouldn’t hurt to have a backup plan.

She didn’t call Gordon until she’d exited the estate and settled into the back seat of her car. On the second ring, her eldest son picked up. Only then did she speak.

“There’s something I need you to do, Gordon.”

Her voice was as calm as ever, but Gordon’s reaction was anything but.

“Mother — is this about that alternative plan you mentioned?”

He sounded excited, almost relieved to finally be let in on it. She resisted the urge to sigh at her dimwitted son and answered coolly.

“Let’s just call it a small contingency. Did you hear about the party Winston’s throwing?”

“Huh? No. All of a sudden?”

“Yes.”

Listening to her son’s confusion, she continued quietly.

“He’s putting that thing in charge of hosting it. So I’ve decided to step away from this one.”

“What?”

Gordon practically shouted. The volume made her flinch and pull the phone from her ear, frowning. He didn’t stop.

“That’s insane! Out of nowhere? And him of all people? That whore? Has Winston lost his damn mind?”

“Quiet. Don’t yell like some uncultured brute.”

She chided him sternly. Only when he fell silent did she speak again.

“Let it be, for now. Winston must have his reasons. More importantly, there’s something I need you to do.”

“R-right. What is it?”

Gordon answered, still grumbling. Once she was sure he had calmed down, she gave him instructions. As she spoke, Gordon’s breathing grew heavier, and before she even finished, he burst out again.

“Wait — seriously? He did that?”

“Yes.”

This time, she didn’t scold him. She held the phone slightly away and replied evenly.

“You know what you need to do, don’t you?”

“Of course I do.”

Gordon’s tone lit up with glee.

“When a disgusting bug latches onto your little brother, it’s a brother’s duty to swat it away. Don’t worry, Mother. I’ll talk some sense into Winston.”

A soft smile tugged at her lips.

“Good. I’m counting on you.”

She lowered her phone to end the call — but Gordon’s voice rang out one last time.

“How the hell does a filthy thing like him even live with himself? Once a whore, always a—”

She ended the call mid-rant. Once Winston knows, he’ll lose any affection he still has. That is, if any remains.

Staring out the window, Mrs. Campbell leaned back comfortably. A year will go by in no time. Having Yujin as hostess made her uneasy, yes, but it didn’t matter. That boy had so much in his past worth hiding — and all she had to do was reveal it, piece by piece. Winston would be thoroughly disgusted.

To think he dared walk back into the Campbell family on his own two feet.

Mrs. Campbell stared into the distance with eyes like ice.

He will never destroy my son again. I’ll make sure of it.

必ず。

The room was dim, lit only by a few orange-tinted lamps. Yujin stood trembling, his face twisted in shame, shoulders pulled tight.

He was wearing nothing but a cheap, plain white undershirt.

Harold sat on the sofa, sipping wine, watching him. Yujin was just barely out of his teens, still soft with boyish features. He looked five years younger than he actually was — and knowing he was about to turn eighteen made the sight all the more obscene.

“Yujin, don’t hunch like that. How many times have I told you how important good posture is?”

Harold’s voice was gentle, as always. No different than when he spoke at dinner. But the situation was nothing like that. Yujin looked at him, wanting to cry, but Harold only frowned, urging him silently.

With no choice, Yujin slowly straightened his back, still trembling. His thin frame, stretched tall, emerged into the light. His ribs stuck out, but his hips were shaped like an adult’s — strangely compelling.

“Your body’s finally becoming fit to take a man.”

Harold said it softly. And Yujin knew — could feel — that his eyes were moving slowly over every inch of his body, not even blinking. He tried not to cry. But in the end, he rubbed at his eyes with the back of his hand.