Chapter 2: A Name in the Headlines

The clinking of porcelain against silverware echoed in the grand dining hall of the Nguyễn household. The morning sun filtered through sheer curtains, casting a warm glow over the long table adorned with fresh flowers and plated breakfast dishes.

Linh Duong stirred her tea absentmindedly. The silence at the table was comfortable, broken only by her father’s occasional rustling of the newspaper and the butler’s soft footsteps.

“Miss, there’s something new,” the butler said, respectfully placing the morning paper in front of her. “It’s about the Lâm family.”

Her hand paused mid-stir. She slowly looked down.

There it was.

**“CEO Lam Minh Hao Goes Public with New Girlfriend – A Talented Employee of the Corporation.”**

A large photo showed Minh Hao in a sharp gray suit, standing beside a young woman with soft brown hair and a gentle smile.

Linh Duong’s chest tightened. The rest of the room disappeared into a blur of muffled sounds.

He never introduced her to anyone.

Not even once.

Not in public. Not in private. Not even to their families.

She gently folded the newspaper and set it aside, her face calm. Too calm.

“Are you okay?” her mother asked quietly.

She smiled faintly. “It’s just news.”

But her hands, hidden beneath the table, were trembling.

Weeks passed. Then months.

Linh Duong drowned herself in work, sketches, fabric samples, fashion shows. She told herself she was fine. That love fades. That pain passes.

Until one evening changed everything.

The living room was filled with the chatter of two powerful families. Her parents. His parents. Old friends and business partners. Everyone sat with expectation written on their faces.

“Minh Hao, you and Linh Duong have known each other since childhood,” his mother said kindly. “We’ve discussed this for years. The marriage should be decided.”

Minh Hao sat stiffly beside his father, face stone cold.

“I already have a girlfriend,” he said bluntly.

A sharp silence fell.

Across the room, Linh Duong sat quietly, eyes lowered, heart pounding. She could feel all eyes on her.

“You still must marry,” his father said firmly. “This is bigger than your feelings.”

And so, they were married. Not out of love. But out of duty.

The wedding was lavish. The media called it a match made in heaven. But behind closed doors, it was a silent battlefield.

Minh Hao barely spoke to her. And when he did, it was with coldness. Some nights he didn’t even return home. And when he did, he was drunk. Angry.

He shouted. Slammed doors. Sometimes he’d throw things. Once, he grabbed her wrist too hard. Left a mark.

But she said nothing. She endured. Because somewhere, foolishly, she still believed he might look at her again the way he did in that library years ago.

Until that night.

The night he came home drunk, staggered into their room, and collapsed beside her. Reeking of alcohol and perfume that wasn’t hers.

When she turned away, he grabbed her.

[Sensitive scene skipped – only implied, not graphically shown]

She didn’t fight. She didn’t scream. She just cried quietly afterward.

One month later, the divorce papers were signed.

He didn’t even look at her when he walked out of the courthouse.

It was over.

Or at least, it was for him.

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