Chapter 29 — Post-Divorce Rebound: Claiming My Daughter and Starting Over

Another layer of Lin Vy Vy’s unfathomable deception had surfaced, accompanied by the earth-shattering secrets she might be concealing. In the end, how many layers of lies and sins had the place I once called "home" been hiding? My phone vibrated gently; it was a message from the editor who was helping me look after Noan Noan. She told me the little girl was being very well-behaved, sitting quietly and eating her fruit. Looking at my daughter's sweet, innocent smile on the screen, my frozen heart finally felt a flicker of warmth. No matter how treacherous the path ahead might be, for the sake of that smile, I had to keep moving forward.

At this moment, the Co family villa was plunged into an atmosphere even more eerie than before. A heavy, suffocating pressure blanketed every corner. Co Dinh Tham had not returned home for several days in a row. It was clear that the situation at the company was far more critical than he had ever admitted. Chu Bich Hoa was pacing restlessly all day, calling one "dear sister" after another in her social circle to fish for information, yet most of what she received in return were perfunctory excuses or polite refusals. The true colors of human nature, cold and fickle, were laid bare for all to see.

Outwardly, Lin Vy Vy remained as gentle and virtuous as ever. She played the part of the dutiful caretaker, soothing the anxious Chu Bich Hoa while tending to the three children. With their father absent and their grandmother in a state of constant panic, the children had become increasingly unruly. But deep in the depths of Lin Vy Vy’s eyes, a flicker of anxiety and shadow often surfaced, subtle enough to remain unnoticed by the untrained eye. She checked her phone incessantly, as if waiting for some critical news. Finally, she retrieved an old, locked iron box from a hidden compartment in her closet and moved it to an even more secluded spot—a secret space behind the water tank in the master bathroom. She had no idea that every movement she made was being watched by two separate groups of people: one set of shadows deployed by Tham Du Minh and To Tinh, and another group of loyal confidants sent by Co Dinh Tham, who had grown increasingly suspicious of everyone as his own position became precarious.

Deep in his office, Co Dinh Tham sat in his vast leather chair, the dark circles under his eyes deepening by the hour. The investigation was tightening its grip on him; business partners on key projects were suddenly acting evasive, and urgent calls from the bank grew more frequent and aggressive. What troubled him most was the report on Diep Thanh Uyen. According to his men, she did little more than pick up the children and run errands; she barely left the house and had made contact with no suspicious individuals. That silver thumb drive remained completely untraceable.

Conversely, the team tracking Lin Vy Vy had returned with several thought-provoking details. She appeared to be in clandestine contact with several people, her expression always strained. She kept opening that old iron box to check its contents, occasionally staring at them until she broke into silent tears. The old iron box? Co Dinh Tham suddenly recalled that when Lin Vy Vy first entered the Co household, she had always kept that unassuming, worn-out box by her side. Back then, she claimed it contained keepsakes from her late mother. He hadn't thought much of it at the time, but now, the whole matter felt profoundly bizarre. A woman whose true identity might be a fabrication, an old iron box hiding secrets, and investigative leads all pointing directly toward the jugular of the Co corporation—could it be that a wolf in sheep's clothing had been hiding by his side all along?

His phone rang, snapping him out of his spiraling thoughts. It was the man he had tasked with investigating Tham Du Minh.

"Mr. Co."

"I have found the information."

"The background of Tham Du Minh is extremely deep."