Chapter 1 — Passionate About A Twisted Love

The heart rate monitor beeped steadily in the small hospital room, the cold white fluorescent light covered the pale face of the woman lying motionless on the bed. Vu Nha Dan sat on the edge of the bed, her hands clasped tightly around her mother's thin hand, feeling each weak breath through her paper-thin skin.

The doctor had just left the room fifteen minutes ago, leaving behind a sentence that made her whole world collapse once again.

"Your kidney function has declined to less than ten percent. If you don't have a transplant within the next two weeks, I'm afraid we'll have no choice but to go on dialysis for the rest of your life, and even that will only last a certain amount of time."

Two billion four hundred million dong. That number kept piercing Nha Dan's head like a blunt blade, cutting over and over again endlessly. She had calculated every item by heart: the unpaid rent for two months, the urgent loan from the owner of the grocery store in the alley, and the designer's fee that had been entangled with debtors for the past month. Putting it all together, she could only scrape together less than thirty million dong.

Thirty million, compared to two billion four hundred million.

She looked down at her mother's face, the wrinkles were deeper from anxiety than from age. Her mother, Vu Thi Anh Tuyet, was once a noble lady, used to have afternoon tea parties with wealthy friends, and used to wear custom-made silk dresses from abroad. Now she was just a patient lying in a common treatment area, wearing a faded hospital gown, waiting for a miracle that will probably never come.

Twelve years ago, their family was not like this.

Nha Dan still clearly remembers the villa in Thao Dien, the garden with the purple bougainvillea trellis her parents planted from the day they got married, and the shiny black car that took her to school every morning. Her father, Mr. Vu Dinh Bao, was then the Deputy General Director and second largest shareholder of Cao Nguyen Thinh Company, one of the most famous real estate companies in the city at that time. He was the man she admired most in the world, always coming home on time for dinner no matter how busy he was, always taking the time to teach her math every Sunday night.

Then one day, it all collapsed.

She remembers the groups of people flocking to the front gate of her house, handwritten signs with bright red letters accusing her father of fraud, draining project capital, and falsifying bidding documents to appropriate his partner's assets. She remembered the sound of her mother sobbing in her bedroom with the door closed, and her father sitting silently for hours in the office, his hands trembling as he held the newspaper with his photo printed on the front page with the headline "Real estate tycoon exposed for fraud".

He was prosecuted, detained and interrogated for three months, then the investigation was suspended because the authorities did not find enough evidence to incriminate him. But lost honor cannot be regained. No partner dares to do business with him anymore. Not a single friend dared to come to the house. The whole family's fortune went into hiring a lawyer, paying off debts, and paying compensation for things he never knew about, until they had to sell the villa, sell the car, and move to a cramped apartment in Binh Thanh district.

Three years after the company collapsed, her father died of a heart attack, at the age of forty-seven. The doctor said his heart had been weakened for a long time because of pent-up pressure and frustration with no way out. Nha Dan was seventeen years old at that time, standing next to her father's coffin, swearing to herself that she would never let her mother suffer any more.

But now, fate has once again pushed her and her child into a dead end.

Nha Dan held her mother's hand, her fingers trembling uncontrollably. She bit her inner lip so hard that she could taste the salty taste on her tongue, trying not to let any sobs escape, afraid that even a small sound would be enough to wake her mother up in the middle of her coma. She called everyone she could: the only distant relative who still kept in touch refused flatly, citing financial difficulties; The bank refused to lend because she had no collateral and her self-employment income was too unstable; Even the closest friends can only collect a few million dong, a drop of water cannot fill the ocean.

Her phone vibrated. It's Lam Viet Dang.

"Are you okay? I just finished work, I'm on my way to the hospital." His voice sounded warmly through the speaker, making her heart calm down a bit.

"I'm fine. You don't need to rush. I have to stay here with my mom tonight."

"I know. I brought you porridge. You haven't eaten anything yet, right?"

Nha Dan laughed softly, even though her heart was still heavy. Viet Dang is a young architect, she has known him for nearly two years, from project meetings she worked as a freelance graphic designer for his company. He was the only person throughout these difficult years who remained patient with her, without a single complaint, without a single demand. She loves him, even though that love is simple, without expensive gifts or lavish trips, only the simple sincerity of two young people struggling together in this city.

But even Viet Dang couldn't help her earn two billion four hundred million dong in two weeks.

Fifteen minutes later, he appeared at the door of the hospital room, carrying a bag of hot porridge, his face clearly showing fatigue after a long day of work. He put the bag of porridge on the table, pulled out a chair to sit next to her, and held her hand to comfort her.

"What did the doctor say?"

Nha Dan told the whole story, her voice trembling uncontrollably. Viet Dang listened silently, his hands clenched into fists on his thighs, his eyes full of helplessness.

"I'll ask for more loans here and there, maybe I can get a few tens of millions more. My parents aren't very well off, but I'll try my best."

"No way, the amount is too big." Nha Dan shook her head, tears threatening to flow. "I don't want to drag your whole family into this."

"Nha Dan, don't say that. Your story is also my story." He squeezed her hand tighter. "I will find a way, there will definitely be a way."

But in their hearts they both understood that two weeks was too short, two billion four was too big, and they were standing in front of a wall with no way out.

That night, after Viet Dang returned, Nha Dan sat alone by her mother's bed, rummaging through the old paper box she brought from the apartment. Inside were papers, photos and a few mementos left over from the days when Cao Nguyen Thinh company was still prosperous. She flipped through each page, her eyes stopped at a yellowed old business card, printed with the name "Cao Nguyen Thinh Company - Chairman of the Board of Directors: Cao Dinh Nghi".

Cao Dinh Nghi. The father of the best friend her father ever had, was also the person whose family, after the scandal, put all the responsibility on her father, publicly declaring that it was Mr. Bao who betrayed the trust, gutted the company, and pushed Mr. Nghi's entire life's career into nothing.

Nha Dan squeezed the business card in her hand so tightly that the corners of the paper became red streaks on her palm, the corner of her mouth curled up into a distorted, shapeless smile. She heard rumors that Mr. Nghi's son, the only heir, returned from abroad two years ago, rebuilt the entire business from the ashes, and has now become one of the most powerful businessmen in Saigon, head of the Lam Phong Group, famous throughout the business world.

Cao Thien Lam.

She had heard that name several times in the press, always accompanied by beautiful words like "cold", "sharp", "uncompromising". She has never met him, nor does she ever intend to meet him, because between the two families there is a deep hole of hatred that cannot be filled.

But tonight, when she looked at her mother lying on the hospital bed, when she thought about the two billion four hundred million dong she could find nowhere in two short weeks, a crazy thought crept into her head, making her shiver and fear herself.

If you find Cao Thien Lam.

If she asked him for help.

That thought was so ridiculous that she smirked to herself in the quiet night. The person his family always believed killed his father, was she going to beg him to save his mother? It's like putting your head into the tiger's mouth. But when she looked at the heart rate monitor that was still beeping steadily, and at her mother's pale face, she understood that she had no other choice.

She tried everything. The bank, relatives, friends, even the attempt to sell her mother's last wedding ring, were only enough to pay a very small part of that huge debt. Time is running out, with each passing hour and minute her mother is getting closer to the boundary of life and death.

Nha Dan held the old business card in her palm so tightly that the corners of the paper cut into her skin, a small but alert pain, as if reminding her that this was not a nightmare that she could wake up from. She raised her head to look out the window, the city at night sparkled with lights, somewhere in those buildings there was a man she had never met, but held the power to decide her mother's life.

She knew that tomorrow, she would have to go see Cao Thien Lam.

Even if she has to kneel down, even if she has to beg, even if she has to trade anything, she will do it, just in exchange for a chance to live for her mother. Nha Dan folded up the business card and put it in her breast pocket, the place closest to her heart, as if she was mentally preparing for a battle that she knew she would not win, but was still forced to enter.

Outside, rain began to patter on the hospital window, drops of water flowing like tears of a long, sleepless night. Nha Dan closed her eyes, imagining the cold face of the man she was about to face, a stranger but carrying within him her family's last hope of life. She did not know that, just a few hours later, her life would turn in a completely different direction, a stormy direction, where the line between hatred and love would become so fragile that she herself could no longer distinguish it.