Tham Chi held my phone above her head.
—Everyone look carefully! This woman edited herself into General Manager Giang’s wedding photo!
Laughter broke out again.
I didn’t laugh.
I looked at the phone in her hand.
Then at the confidential documents stored on hers.
Something inside me became completely calm.
I extended my hand.
—Give me my phone.
She sneered.
—Not until you unlock everything.
I looked toward Finance Director Duong Thien.
—And you support this?
She crossed her arms.
—Secretary Tham represents General Manager Giang. If she says your phone needs to be checked, cooperate.
I nodded.
—Good.
Then I pressed the emergency button on my smartwatch.
Three seconds later, the headquarters legal department received a priority alert.
Five seconds later, the branch’s entire document-access system automatically froze.
Every computer screen in the office turned black.
A red notice appeared:
CORE DATA SECURITY REVIEW IN PROGRESS. ALL ACCESS SUSPENDED.
The laughter stopped.
Duong Thien’s face changed.
—What happened?
I answered:
—I happened.
Tham Chi stared at me.
—What nonsense are you saying?
I ignored her and called one person.
—Director Han, come upstairs.
Her expression shifted.
Everyone in the group knew Director Han.
Head of Group Legal Affairs.
He worked directly under the chairman.
Me.
Less than ten minutes later, the elevator opened.
Director Han entered with four legal officers and two members of internal audit.
The moment he saw me, he stopped.
Then bowed his head.
—Chairwoman Pho.
Silence.
Complete silence.
Duong Thien’s mouth opened.
Tham Chi slowly lowered my phone.
I held out my hand.
This time, she returned it.
No one laughed anymore.
I looked around.
—Which one of you said I was a low-level employee?
Nobody moved.
Then I turned to Director Han.
—Secure Secretary Tham’s phone.
Her face went white.
—You can’t!
Two legal officers stepped forward.
She immediately clutched it to her chest.
—This is my private property!
I smiled.
—Five minutes ago, you said it contained the company’s core secrets.
—Now you’re saying it’s private?
Her lips trembled.
I continued:
—Choose carefully.
If it contains no company secrets, you lied while demanding one million yuan from an employee.
If it does contain them, you violated the group’s confidentiality policy.
Either answer causes you trouble.
She turned toward Duong Thien.
—Director Duong!
Duong Thien immediately stepped backward.
That small movement told me everything about their loyalty.
I looked at the young employee who had defended me earlier.
—What’s your name?
She nervously answered:
—Lin Yue.
—Did Secretary Tham strike you because you gave a truthful statement?
Lin Yue hesitated.
Then nodded.
—Yes.
I turned to Director Han.
—Record that too.
Tham Chi finally panicked.
—Chairwoman Pho, this is a misunderstanding!
I raised an eyebrow.
—Which part?
—Calling me shameless?
—Taking my phone?
—Demanding a million yuan?
—Or downloading a three-billion-yuan merger plan onto your personal device?
Her face became colorless.
Then the elevator doors opened again.
Giang Hy Triet arrived.
My husband.
He walked out quickly, obviously having received the system alert.
—What’s going on?
Tham Chi immediately ran toward him.
—General Manager Giang!
She grabbed his arm.
—This woman suddenly came here pretending to be the chairwoman. She attacked me and—
Then Giang Hy Triet saw me.
He stopped.
His face changed.
—Dao Dao?
Every employee nearby looked from him to me.
Then back again.
The fake wedding photograph had just become very real.
Tham Chi slowly released his sleeve.
—General Manager Giang…
I looked at the black diamond earring on her ear.
Then at my husband.
—You arrived at the perfect time.
His eyes moved toward Director Han.
—Why is Legal here?
I answered:
—Because your secretary has the Atlas merger restructuring documents stored on her private phone.
His expression sharpened immediately.
—What?
Tham Chi stared at him.
—You gave them to me!
Giang Hy Triet turned.
—I gave you access to the meeting summary.
—Not the valuation model.
—Not the negotiation ceiling.
—And definitely not authorization to download the entire file.
Her mouth fell open.
—But you said I could use your account whenever—
He cut her off.
—When did I say that?
She froze.
I almost laughed.
Suddenly they were both very interested in technical distinctions.
I asked calmly:
—Hy Triet, did you give her your login credentials?
He didn’t answer.
That was enough.
Director Han’s expression hardened.
Sharing executive credentials was itself a serious violation.
I continued:
—And the black diamond?
My husband’s eyes landed on Tham Chi’s ear.
His face changed again.
I removed the auction receipt from my bag.
—Five million yuan.
—You told me it was for Hua Group’s general director.
Giang Hy Triet became silent.
Tham Chi instinctively touched the earring.
I looked at him.
—Was Hua Group’s general director secretly renamed Tham Chi?
—Dao Dao, listen to me—
—No.
I raised my hand.
—You’ve been managing this branch for three years.
—Today, in less than one hour, I discovered confidential documents on your secretary’s private phone, employees terrified of her, Finance helping her demand money from staff, and company property being treated like personal gifts.
I looked straight at him.
—What exactly have you been managing?
He had no answer.
Internal audit took forty-eight hours.
What they found was worse than I expected.
Tham Chi had used Giang Hy Triet’s credentials repeatedly.
She had downloaded confidential client lists.
Executive compensation records.
Bid prices.
Internal valuations.
Some had even been forwarded to a private cloud account.
There was no immediate evidence that she had sold anything.
But the risk alone was catastrophic.
Duong Thien had approved multiple reimbursements for her without proper documentation.
Luxury restaurants.
Hotels.
Designer goods.
Even the black diamond had been recorded internally as “strategic partnership expenditure.”
Except Hua Group confirmed they had never received it.
That meant the five million yuan I had personally authorized for business development had become jewelry on my husband’s secretary.
Giang Hy Triet came to my office the evening the audit finished.
He closed the door.
—Dao Dao.
I kept reading.
—Chairwoman Pho during office hours.
His face tightened.
—We’re husband and wife.
I looked up.
—Were we husband and wife when you gave another woman the gift I paid for?
—Nothing happened between us.
I laughed softly.
—That wasn’t my question.
He walked closer.
—Tham Chi is young. She likes showing off. I indulged her too much.
—Why?
Silence.
Then:
—She admired me.
There it was.
Not love.
Not some tragic affair.
Something almost more pathetic.
Admiration.
I had built the group with him.
I challenged him.
Corrected him.
Expected standards.
Tham Chi looked at him as if every sentence he spoke were brilliant.
And slowly, he had begun rewarding the person who worshipped him while resenting the wife who treated him as an equal.
I asked:
—Did you sleep with her?
He answered immediately.
—No.
I believed him.
It changed surprisingly little.
—Did you let everyone in this branch believe she was your girlfriend?
He looked away.
—Did you ever correct them?
Nothing.
—Did you hide our marriage?
—You didn’t want publicity either.
—Privacy isn’t the same as letting another woman play Mrs. Giang.
His face turned pale.
I took a document from my drawer.
His temporary suspension order.
—Sign acknowledgment.
He stared.
—You’re suspending me?
—The board is.
—You’re the chairwoman.
—Exactly.
He read the page.
Then looked at me.
—Are you choosing the company over your husband?
I smiled.
—No.
—I’m refusing to let my husband destroy the company and call it marriage.
Tham Chi was dismissed.
Her devices were turned over for investigation.
Duong Thien lost her position after audit confirmed repeated policy violations.
Lin Yue, the young employee who had spoken up, was transferred to headquarters compliance.
Not as a reward for defending me.
Because she had demonstrated something far more valuable than flattery.
Integrity when it was dangerous.
As for Giang Hy Triet, the board removed him as branch general manager.
He kept his shares.
But his executive authority was gone.
Our marriage lasted two more months.
Mostly because I wanted to know whether anything remained when the power imbalance disappeared.
It didn’t.
He apologized.
He sent flowers.
He returned the black diamond.
Once he asked:
—If I had told everyone you were my wife, would things be different?
I thought about it.
—No.
His eyes fell.
I continued:
—The problem wasn’t that Tham Chi didn’t know who I was.
—The problem was that you knew exactly who I was and still let her behave that way.
That was the end.
The divorce was quiet.
No public scandal.
No revenge announcement.
I kept my position as chairwoman.
He left the group entirely the following year and started another company.
I heard he became much stricter about corporate controls.
Some lessons are expensive.
Three years later, I returned to that branch for an annual audit.
Many employees had changed.
Lin Yue was now deputy compliance director.
When she saw me, she smiled.
—Chairwoman Pho, do you remember the bathroom incident?
I laughed.
—Unfortunately.
She said:
—I almost didn’t speak up that day.
—Why did you?
She thought for a moment.
—Because everyone knew Secretary Tham was wrong.
—They were just afraid.
I nodded.
That answer stayed with me.
Tham Chi had believed her power came from Giang Hy Triet.
Duong Thien had believed protecting powerful people was safer than following rules.
My husband had believed being loved meant being admired without question.
And I?
I had believed trust meant I didn’t need to look too closely at the branch I had given him.
We were all wrong about something.
I walked past the bathroom where the phone had been found years earlier.
A ridiculous little accident.
One forgotten device.
One photograph in the company group.
That was all it took.
Tham Chi thought I had picked up her phone.
In reality, I had picked up the thread that unraveled an entire network of arrogance, favoritism and betrayal.
And the funniest part?
She threatened to blacklist me from my own company.
By the end of that week, the only name removed from the company’s system was hers.
