Chapter 20 — Reborn: This Hell Is Mine

The Truth Under the Spotlight

The whispers spread quickly throughout the seven hundred seats. Bách Nguyên raised his hand and the auditorium gradually quieted down.

"I would like to invite my wife, Đường Ý Vy, to present specifically," he said.

Ý Vy stepped out from the stage, walking straight, without any hesitation. The evening blue evening gown glided through the spotlight. She held the microphone and looked straight into the camera lenses of major news agencies pointing at her.

"Ladies and gentlemen. Nearly three years ago, I discovered a series of abnormalities surrounding my life and my husband's." Her voice rang out clearly, without shaking. "I have been quietly collecting evidence, not to take revenge on anyone, but to protect what I love. Today, I am forced to make it all public."

The big screen behind the stage turned on. The timeline appeared—dates and events clearly arranged.

"Last March, there was an anonymous post defaming me, originating from an IP address at the office of Kỳ Nguyên Sáng Communications Company." A screenshot appeared. "In May, this company won Chung Nguyên's media bid, even though its bid was higher than two competitors, thanks to a proposal to exploit my personal story—something I had never agreed to."

The auditorium was as quiet as paper. Tuệ Nghi sat in the front row, her hands clasped together, her face pale.

"In August, false internal information about a high-tech real estate cooperation deal was leaked, leading to unusual fluctuations in the shares of a subsidiary of Hưng Thịnh Group." Ý Vy paused for a beat, letting the information penetrate each listener. "And not long ago, my car's brakes were intentionally sabotaged, on the exact same road I often travel alone at night."

A gasp of horror echoed throughout the auditorium. A few journalists hurriedly took notes.

"This is the person who directly carried out that sabotage." Ý Vy signaled. From backstage, the mechanic walked out, head bowed, standing next to the corporation's lawyer.

“I was hired to cut the brake fluid line,” the man said, his voice shaking but clear, having been mentally prepared in advance by the legal team. "The person who paid me was Ms. Kỷ Tuệ Nghi. But she said, there was someone else behind the direction, so I had to be sure."

All eyes turned to Tuệ Nghi. She stood up from the chair, her face pale. "No... I didn't mean..."

"And here," Bách Nguyên continued, his voice as cold as ice, "is financial evidence showing that the money paid to this mechanic came from a slush fund under the direct control of Mr. Vệ Đắc Thịnh, chairman of Hưng Thịnh Group."

Đắc Thịnh stood up suddenly, the wine glass in his hand fell to the floor and shattered. "This is slander! I will sue you all for defamation! A statement from an anonymous mechanic has no legal value!"

"So how do you explain this transfer?" Ý Vy asked again, unfazed. The screen behind her changed to a bank statement, the numbers clearly circled in red. "Three transfers of money, from an account in the name of a shell company that you created two years ago, to this mechanic's personal account, at exactly three times coinciding with the meetings between you and Ms. Tuệ Nghi that our investigation team recorded."

A louder whisper arose. Some older shareholders, who had just heard Đắc Thịnh sow doubts about Chung Nguyên just a few minutes ago, now turned to look at him with completely different eyes.

"We have all transaction records, confirmed by independent auditors, ready to provide to the investigation agency," Bách Nguyên replied, undeterred. "You can sue, but I advise you to prepare a better lawyer to deal with the accusation of organized murder conspiracy."

Two hotel security officers, arranged at the request of the police, approached Đắc Thịnh. He stepped back, looked around for a way out, but every exit was guarded.

Amid the chaos, Ý Vy stepped down from the stage, went straight to the front row, and stood opposite Tuệ Nghi. The entire auditorium held its breath and watched.

"Tuệ Nghi." Ý Vy's voice softened, just loud enough for the nearest rows of seats to hear, but the microphone, which was not turned off, spread throughout the room. "I'm not standing here to destroy you. I'm standing here to ask you a question, in front of everyone, because I think it's time for you to tell the truth, not for me, but for yourself."

Tuệ Nghi trembled, tears rolling down her eyes. "What do you want me to say?"

"Why?" Just one word, but containing a weight of more than twenty years.

Tuệ Nghi stood silently for a long time. The whole auditorium waited in absolute silence. Finally, she burst into tears, words pouring out like a broken dam.

"Because I was never my mother's real child! You know, when I was fifteen years old, I heard my mother say, my work was 'later', I 'didn't have any special ties'. While you were legally adopted, had inheritance rights, had everything! I tried to be obedient, study well, love you with all my heart, just to prove that I was as worthy of love as you! But it was never enough!" Tuệ Nghi almost shouted, no longer caring about the hundreds of eyes focused on her. "The couple that year chose you! I failed the scholarship because of a small mistake and you never knew how many nights I cried! At your wedding, I stood there holding flowers, smiling, while my heart was broken because I thought that when it was my turn, perhaps I would never get that! And now, I also have Bách Nguyên, have a perfect family, and you..." She choked, unable to continue, her shoulders trembling in waves.

The entire auditorium was engulfed in an unusually heavy silence, no longer the silence of surprise at a crime, but the silence of people witnessing a naked human pain being exposed. A few older female guests gently wiped their tears, not because they felt sorry for Tuệ Nghi's behavior, but because they suddenly realized that behind every perfect cover, everyone could be carrying a wound that no one could see.

Ý Vy stood still, her eyes red. "I didn't know you carried that pain with you all these years. I'm sorry for not realizing it sooner. But Tuệ Nghi, that pain doesn't give you the right to take my life. There is no hurt big enough to justify what you did."

"I know," Tuệ Nghi whispered, collapsing on the chair, her whole body trembling. "I know I'm wrong. But I don't know how to stop."

The police, who had been stationed outside as planned, entered the auditorium. Đắc Thịnh was controlled and taken away first, his face still trying to maintain a calm appearance even though his eyes clearly showed panic. Tuệ Nghi, when the police officer approached, did not resist, just looked up at Ý Vy one last time.

"Do you hate me?" she asked, her voice cracking.

Ý Vy looked at her sister and was silent for a long time before responding, her voice gentle but firm. "I don't hate you. But I also cannot forgive you for what you have done. You will have to learn to face that yourself, throughout the time ahead." Tuệ Nghi nodded, tears rolling down, letting the policeman take her out of the auditorium amid the endless whispers of seven hundred witnesses.

Mrs. Dieu, sitting in the row of honor, stood up and approached, her voice choked. "If Mrs. Diễm Thu were still alive, she would be very hurt when she saw this scene. But I believe, she would also be proud that you were brave enough to face the truth, instead of burying it further." She took Ý Vy's hand and squeezed it gently, a quiet comforting gesture amid the chaotic atmosphere of the entire auditorium.

The journalists began to hustle, scrambling to call the editorial office, some tried to squeeze closer to the stage for more interviews. The hotel security team quickly set up a barrier, while Phó Nhật Khang gave a brief speech, suggesting that all detailed questions would be officially answered in writing by the group in the coming days, so that the ceremony could close in an orderly manner.

Ý Vy stood there, in the middle of the stage lights, feeling Bách Nguyên step forward, wrapping his arms around her shoulders from behind. She leaned into him, letting the last tears fall — not tears of victory, but of liberation after nearly three years of carrying the burden of a secret no one could fully share.

"It's done," Bách Nguyên whispered in her ear. "It's all done."

Ý Vy closed her eyes and took a deep breath. The hell of the past life has finally officially ended.

In the distance, the lights of the Diamond Hotel were still bright as if nothing had ever happened, but for Ý Vy, this was no longer the place where she witnessed the first fateful moment of her previous life. Tonight, it becomes the place that witnesses the final truth being told, the place that closes the tragic cycle that once took her life.