Chapter 4: A Fragile Line

In the days that followed, Diệu Anh and Bách Việt had to play a happy couple in public: attending parties together, appearing in the press together, even living under one roof to make their cover more believable.

But the line between pretending and meaning it grew thinner and thinner. One rainy night, when Diệu Anh had a nightmare about her painful past, she broke down sobbing in her room. Bách Việt heard her, rushed in, and pulled her into his arms on instinct.

“Don’t be afraid. I’m here,” he whispered, his voice gentle, nothing like his usual coldness.

Diệu Anh looked up at him through her tears. “Why are you so good to me? Is it just part of the plan?”

Bách Việt was silent for a long moment, then gently rested his forehead against hers. “No. Ever since three years ago, I’ve… Diệu Anh, there are things I’ve never told you.”

Before he could finish, his phone rang violently. It was urgent news: the evidence they had worked so hard to find had been stolen right under their noses.