Chapter 2 — Champion Bodyguard of the Female President

The meeting with the legal department ended at nearly nine o'clock in the evening, nearly three hours later than expected. Tue Lam walked out of the meeting room with the feeling that her mind was as tense as a string about to break. Lawyer Tran Huu Khang, the longtime legal representative of the Kieu family, walked next to her, holding a thick stack of documents, his face unable to hide his tiredness.

Mr. Khang rubbed his chin, his voice thoughtful. "The group of shareholders demanding to convene an extraordinary general meeting seems to have been very well prepared. They gave the exact numbers that made others doubt her executive ability, right at the time when the company was facing the most difficulty. I'm afraid this is not a coincidence."

"Who do you think is behind drafting those arguments?" Tue Lam asked, slowing down to keep up with the conversation.

"I can't confirm, but the style of writing, the way of choosing data to attack, is very similar to the style of people who have worked for a long time in the finance department. You should be careful with anyone who has access to internal reports." Mr. Khang stopped in front of the elevator and looked at her with serious eyes. "Even the people you trust the most."

That sentence made Tue Lam pause slightly, but she didn't have time to ask more because the elevator had already opened, and Mr. Khang had to turn in another direction to return to his private parking lot. She walked alone into the elevator, down to the basement where her private car was waiting.

Her driver, a middle-aged man who had worked for Kieu's family for nearly ten years, opened the car door when he saw her coming. "Will Ms. Lam go home or visit the hospital first?"

"Go to the hospital first, Uncle Lam," she replied, sitting in the back seat, leaning her head against the glass door, closing her eyes for a moment. Her body was exhausted, but her mind was still spinning with dozens of unanswered questions.

The car rolled out of the parking lot, joining the still crowded traffic even though it was late. The road leading to the hospital passes through a deserted overpass, on both sides are rows of tall trees silent in the dark. This was a familiar route that she had passed countless times in the past three months, to the point where she could close her eyes and guess every turn.

But tonight, there was something unusual.

A large truck suddenly appeared from the right lane, accelerated at an unusual speed, approaching their lane. Tue Lam's driver panicked and swerved to avoid the car, the car's horn blaring shrilly.

"Miss Lam, be careful!" he shouted, trying to keep his grip on the steering wheel as the truck continued to press closer, as if deliberately trying to push their vehicle toward the bridge railing.

Tue Lam clung tightly to the door handle, her heart pounding. The headlights from the truck shined straight into the rearview mirror, making everything blinding, she couldn't clearly see the license plate or any identifying features. Their car swerved to the side, the tires screeched on the asphalt, almost hitting the railing of the overpass.

"Hold on tight!" the driver shouted again, swinging the steering wheel hard to the left to avoid a direct hit. The truck grazed the rear of their car, creating a deafening collision sound, the right rearview mirror shattered, and debris scattered on the road.

Finally, after several tense seconds that seemed to last forever, the truck accelerated forward and turned onto a side road, disappearing into the darkness before anyone could react.

The driver pulled over, panting, his hands still shaking on the steering wheel. "Miss Lam, are you okay?"

Tue Lam sat still for a moment, trying to regain normal breathing. Her whole body felt cold, not because of the night wind blowing through the half-lowered window, but because of the feeling of an invisible hand tightening around her neck. "I'm OK." Her voice was still shaking. "Are you hurt?"

"I'm okay, just a little scared." The driver took out his phone, his hand still shaking. "I have to report to the police immediately, Ms. Lam. This is clearly not a normal traffic accident, that car deliberately forced us."

Tue Lam nodded, but her eyes were fixed on the road ahead, where the truck had just disappeared. This was the third time in the past three months that she had almost had her life in danger—the first time was an elevator incident at the building, the second time was a mild case of food poisoning at a party where she later discovered that only her own portion had been mixed with something strange, and now this intentional accident.

Police arrived at the scene about twenty minutes later, recorded statements, and collected remaining debris. But like previous times, they did not find any significant clues - the truck used a fake license plate, and the security camera on that route had technical problems at the exact time the incident occurred.

"Too much of a coincidence." The investigating police officer tapped his pen on the clipboard, not bothering to hide his helplessness. "Miss Lam, I advise you to hire more personal bodyguards, as soon as possible. Your company's security team does not seem capable of dealing with situations like this."

She nodded, but in her heart she knew that the company's security team led by Pham Trung Nghia was considered very professional and had handled many sensitive cases smoothly in the past. Yet this time, they were completely passive, as if the attacker always knew her travel schedule in advance.

After the police left, Tue Lam was no longer in the mood to go to the hospital to visit her father, but she still decided to stop by, even if she only stood outside the hospital room looking through the small glass window for a few minutes. The dim light in the intensive care room shone on Mr. Kieu Thanh Nghia's thin face, the air and fluid pipes were tangled around his body like a fragile protective spider web.

"Dad," she whispered through the glass, "I was almost in danger. But I won't let that happen again. I promise."

On the way back to her private apartment, sitting in another car sent to replace her, Tue Lam opened her phone and scrolled through a series of messages from friends and colleagues asking after news of the incident spread quickly within the company. Among them was a message from Chu Nha Ky, a close friend from college, currently an economic reporter for a major newspaper.

"Lam, I just heard the news. Are you okay? Call me as soon as you're free, I have some information you might need to know."

Tue Lam immediately called her friend. After only two rings, Nha Ky picked up the phone, her voice urgent. "Lam, are you really okay? I just heard the news from an industry source. They said someone has been secretly gathering a large amount of Kieu Phat shares in the past three months, through many small intermediary companies. I'm trying to find out who is behind it, but the clues are very faint, leading to unclear cover names."

"Do you suspect anyone?" Tue Lam's breathing has returned to some degree.

"I can't confirm," Nha Ky replied, "but this time is too sensitive — right when your father fell ill, right when you were still struggling to settle into your new position. Someone chose the right moment to strike, and they prepared very carefully, it was not a temporary spurt."

The conversation ended, Tue Lam sat quietly in the car, looking out the window. The streets at night were still busy, but she found herself looking at each truck passing by with searching eyes, her fingers tightening on the handle of her bag to the point of red marks. This was no longer the vague fear of the early days — this was the reflex of a person who had just realized he was being hunted, and the hunter could be in any lane of traffic behind him.

Returning to the apartment, she did not turn on the big lights, only leaving a small table lamp to illuminate the corner of the living room. She sat down on the sofa, holding her knees with both hands, allowing herself to be weak for a few short minutes for the first time in three months, without having to act strong in front of anyone.

In that quiet moment, the words her father told her before falling into a coma echoed in her head, clearer than ever: "If anything happens to you... go to the northern mountain, where there is a sect that once owed a great debt to your family."

She stood up, walked to the bookshelf, and took down an old map that she had found in her father's private drawer a few days ago, when she was going through the paperwork needed for administrative work. The map has yellowed over time, there is a point circled with faded red ink, with only two words "Van Son" written next to it, her father's familiar handwriting.

Tue Lam stared at that circled point for a long time. She had never paid attention to this map before, considering it just one of her father's countless old papers. But now, after everything that had happened, she began to believe that this was not a random place.

She took her phone and texted Thuy Linh: "Tomorrow, arrange for me to take two days off. I need to go away for a trip, personal matters, not related to the company. Please help me handle the meetings, and don't tell anyone where you're going."

After sending the message, she placed the map on the table, her finger gently caressing the circled point named Van Son. A feeling of both fear and hope mixed in her heart - fear because she didn't know what was waiting ahead, but hope because this was probably the only clue that could help her escape the circle of danger that was increasingly tightening around her.

That night, for the first time in many weeks, Tue Lam fell asleep with a clear determination, even though in her flickering dreams, the image of a boy standing under the old poinciana tree, holding her hand and whispering a promise, kept appearing dimly, as if trying to remind her of something important that she had forgotten for too long.