The next morning, I arrived at the company at eight.
Trinh Nghien came at nine-thirty with Kieu Man beside him.
She wore a new designer coat.
I recognized it immediately.
The payment receipt had been in the financial documents Uncle Chau sent me the night before.
Forty-eight thousand yuan.
Paid with a corporate card.
Kieu Man walked directly into the International Business Department and smiled at everyone.
“From today onward, I’ll be responsible for the European market with President Trinh.”
Several employees applauded.
Then she looked at me.
“Manager Hua, I’ll have to trouble you to hand over the German clients.”
Trinh Nghien leaned against the conference table.
“That’s exactly what I wanted to discuss.”
He threw a folder in front of me.
“Give Kieu Man all the European accounts.”
I opened it.
Almost seventy percent of the clients listed there had originally been brought in by me.
“You want me to surrender them?”
“You’ll still have other work.”
Kieu Man smiled.
“Ms. Hua, European negotiations require native-level German. President Trinh is worried that communication may be difficult for you.”
I almost laughed.
Instead, I closed the folder.
“All right.”
Trinh Nghien looked surprised.
“That easy?”
“Why not?”
He probably thought I had finally learned obedience.
He had no idea that at ten o’clock, Van Dinh Capital’s board representatives were arriving.
At nine fifty-five, Uncle Chau sent me one message.
“We’re downstairs.”
I stood.
Trinh Nghien frowned.
“Where are you going?”
“To a meeting.”
“What meeting?”
Before I could answer, the conference room doors opened.
Seven people entered.
The financial director stood first.
Then the legal director.
Finally, Uncle Chau walked in.
Trinh Nghien immediately smiled.
“Director Chau? Why didn’t you tell me Van Dinh was visiting?”
He hurried forward.
Uncle Chau ignored his hand.
Instead, he stopped in front of me.
Then, in front of the entire department, he bowed slightly.
“Chairwoman Hua.”
Silence.
Absolute silence.
Kieu Man’s smile disappeared.
Trinh Nghien stared at him.
“What did you call her?”
Uncle Chau turned toward everyone.
“According to the late chairman’s will, Miss Hua Van officially assumed control of Van Dinh Capital upon turning thirty-one.”
He placed a document on the table.
“As of yesterday, she is the controlling representative of Van Dinh’s forty-five-percent stake in Trinh Industries.”
Someone dropped a pen.
Trinh Nghien’s face slowly turned white.
I sat down.
“President Trinh, weren’t we discussing who pays my salary?”
His lips moved.
“Hua Van…”
I smiled.
“Continue.”
Nobody dared breathe.
Kieu Man suddenly spoke.
“There must be some misunderstanding.”
I looked at her.
In perfect German, I replied:
“No misunderstanding at all.”
Her face froze.
Trinh Nghien jerked toward me.
I continued in German.
“Your pronunciation is good, Kieu Man. Unfortunately, your choice of conversation topics is terrible.”
She went pale.
I switched to English.
Then French.
Then Italian.
Finally, I returned to Chinese.
“Eight languages.”
I folded my hands on the table.
“German is only one of them.”
Trinh Nghien looked as though the floor had vanished beneath him.
“You… understood?”
“Everything.”
His eyes widened.
“The dinner?”
“Yes.”
“The hotel…”
“Yes.”
“The baby…”
Kieu Man grabbed his arm.
“Trinh Nghien!”
Too late.
I placed my phone on the table.
Then pressed play.
His own German voice filled the conference room.
“She can’t live without me.”
Another sentence followed.
“Away from me, she’s nothing.”
Then Kieu Man laughed through the recording.
“When the child can speak, I’ll tell him there’s a maid working for his father every day.”
The room became suffocatingly quiet.
Trinh Nghien lunged toward the phone.
Uncle Chau’s lawyer blocked him.
“That recording is evidence.”
“Evidence of what?” he snapped.
I slid another folder toward him.
“Let’s begin with misuse of corporate funds.”
Hotel bills.
Jewelry.
Flights.
Luxury purchases.
More than 1.8 million yuan.
His hands began trembling.
“You investigated me?”
“No.”
I leaned back.
“I investigated my investment.”
Kieu Man suddenly started crying.
“Ms. Hua, the pregnancy has nothing to do with company finances.”
“You’re right.”
I looked at her stomach.
“That part belongs in my divorce case.”
Trinh Nghien slammed both hands on the table.
“Divorce?”
For the first time, genuine panic appeared in his eyes.
“Hua Van, don’t go too far.”
“Too far?”
I almost admired him.
Even now, he believed he was the injured person.
“You brought your pregnant mistress into my house.”
“I can explain.”
“You used company money to support her.”
“Hua Van—”
“You discussed your child in front of me because you thought I was too stupid to understand.”
His face reddened.
“It was a mistake.”
“No.”
I shook my head.
“A mistake happens once.”
I pushed the divorce agreement toward him.
“You made choices for two years.”
Kieu Man suddenly spoke.
“President Trinh, you said that company would eventually belong entirely to you!”
Everyone looked at her.
Trinh Nghien’s expression changed.
“Shut up.”
But panic had already destroyed her caution.
“You said once the new financing round was completed, Van Dinh’s shares would be diluted!”
Uncle Chau narrowed his eyes.
I slowly turned toward Trinh Nghien.
“Diluted?”
Kieu Man realized too late what she had revealed.
Trinh Nghien grabbed her wrist.
“I told you to shut up!”
She screamed.
I stood.
“Let her speak.”
Then Uncle Chau placed one final document before me.
“Miss, there is something else we discovered this morning.”
I opened it.
A financing proposal.
A shell corporation registered overseas.
The beneficial owner had been deliberately hidden.
But the money trail led directly to—
Kieu Man.
My expression hardened.
They hadn’t only been having an affair.
They had planned to use her company to acquire new shares, dilute Van Dinh’s position and quietly take control of Trinh Industries.
Trinh Nghien sat down heavily.
“Hua Van, listen to me.”
“I’ve listened enough.”
Within an hour, Van Dinh called an emergency shareholders’ meeting.
Trinh Nghien was suspended pending investigation.
Corporate cards were frozen.
Kieu Man’s appointment was cancelled immediately.
When we returned home that evening, she found her suitcases waiting outside.
“You can’t throw me out!” she screamed.
I placed the ownership certificate against the door.
The apartment had been purchased six years ago.
With money from my grandfather’s trust.
My name was the only one on the deed.
“Guests stay temporarily,” I reminded her.
Trinh Nghien arrived twenty minutes later.
His arrogance was gone.
“Hua Van.”
I handed him the divorce agreement.
He didn’t take it.
“Six years.”
His voice cracked.
“Does six years mean nothing?”
I looked at him.
“It meant enough that I stayed six years.”
Then I placed the pen on top of the papers.
“But not enough for a seventh.”
Three months later, the divorce was finalized.
The investigation found extensive misuse of company assets. Trinh Nghien lost his executive position and was forced to sell most of his personal shares to cover damages.
Kieu Man disappeared from the industry after the shell-company scheme became public.
As for me, I returned to Van Dinh.
At my first international board meeting, the German representatives hesitated and asked whether we needed an interpreter.
I smiled.
Then answered them fluently.
French investors joined the discussion.
I switched languages.
An Italian director laughed in disbelief.
By the end of the meeting, eight translation headsets remained untouched on the table.
That evening, Uncle Chau asked me:
“Miss, do you regret hiding all this from President Trinh?”
I looked through the glass walls at the city beneath me.
“No.”
Because the problem had never been that Trinh Nghien didn’t know I spoke eight languages.
The problem was that after six years of marriage, he still believed my silence meant stupidity, my patience meant dependence, and my love meant he could humiliate me without consequences.
He had been wrong about every one of them.
Especially the last.
