Inside the grand, luxurious office of the OPA headquarters’ chairwoman. All the old paintings of naked, lustful women had long been taken down, replaced by portraits of a stunning beauty with auburn curls posing in ways just as provocative. No one but Shana herself had ordered every single painting swapped out for her own photos.

Mr. Hung leaned against the bookshelf, scanning the office that once belonged to him, and sighed. At his age, he had already come to admit his sexual tastes were… perverse, grotesque even. Those old paintings should’ve been replaced long ago anyway. Still, Shana was no less twisted than he was—maybe even more. So in the end, nothing about the office really changed. Just the owner.

But the real shock wasn’t the décor. It was what was happening in front of him.

Shana, the woman who a week ago wouldn’t have cared less, was sitting at the president’s desk, reviewing files with meticulous care, signing documents in quick strokes, and confidently laying out projects for her subordinates.

“Secretary Oh, bring this resolution to the Planning Department. Tell them to start immediately, no delays.”

Shana handed the stack over decisively.

Even Secretary Oh looked bewildered, staring at the neatly outlined plans as if it was impossible to believe Shana had done it herself.

“Y-Yes, miss Shana... oh i mean! President…” she replied respectfully, still dazed, stepping out with the papers in hand.

Only after Secretary Oh left did Hung click his tongue, folding his arms.

“Look at you. It’s like someone’s possessed you. Then again, who in the world could be skilled enough to possess you?”

“What are you getting at, old man?” Shana chuckled, then went back to her documents. “Shouldn’t you be out in the city chasing after your fresh young mistresses? There’s nothing left for you to do here.”

Hung laughed, grabbed a bottle of expensive wine from the shelf, and poured two glasses.

“My, Shana, thinking about my retirement for me? How thoughtful. But I can’t just leave. If I walk away, who’s going to clean up after you? I can’t let you sit in that chair and destroy twenty years of my work. But today… huh. You actually seem to be doing… quite well.”

He set a glass of white wine in front of her. They clinked, sharing a sly look.

“Shana either doesn’t want to do something at all,” she smirked, “or when I want to, I’ll do it better than anyone.”

Hung sipped his wine.

“Fair. Given your… extensive life experience, I can understand that. But I do wonder what’s driving you. Is this for something—or someone?”

At that, Shana blushed, hiding it behind her sly grin.

“Ah, I won’t deny it. I’m doing this for her… As her special guardian, I can’t just let this corporation fall behind.”

“But have you told Duyen about the pact yet?” Hung leaned back on the sofa, swirling his wine. “That it’s actually a curse? That she can’t ever break it—except in death?”

Shana’s smile faltered, but she quickly recovered with a confident grin.

“She’ll understand. That pact saved her life. And besides… I already have plans for the future. I’ll make sure she’s compensated more than enough.”

“You know that’s not what I mean.” Hung sighed when she pretended not to get it.

“By the way, about that Kamakiri girl. Hard to believe she had the guts to tail you and Duyen by car. The Mina I knew in the business world was calculated, disciplined. For her to pull something that crazy? Once someone goes that far, they’ll dare anything. That girl could become a thorn in your side, Shana. Don’t you think you should be careful?”

Shana only let out a little “ah” in response. A wickedly confident smile tugged at her lips.

“I’m not worried about her. She’s just a spoiled brat. People don’t change. She’ll only ever glare from afar, seething with jealousy. That’s all. Empty barrels make the loudest noise.”

“Are you sure about that?” Hung stroked his goatee, thoughtful. “Didn’t you tell me she’s married? A woman like that should’ve thought twice before going into marriage…”

Shana froze, finally looking up from her files

“What do you mean?”

Hung explained patiently, drawing on his knowledge

“The Kamakiri family is one of the harshest dynasties in the entire business world. Their discipline is the reason they’ve dominated territory and risen to be one of the wealthiest, most powerful families in Japan—and East Asia. But their cruelty is infamous too. One of their rules: no divorce.”

Shana narrowed her eyes

“No divorce?”

He nodded firmly.

“Once you marry into that family, it doesn’t matter who you are or where you come from. You can’t divorce. With their influence, they bend local law to their will. But the bottom line is: no member of the Kamakiris ever leaves marriage on their own terms.”

“Ahh…” Shana’s grin turned predatory. “So our cold, unshakable Mina—turns out she’s just a rabbit stuck in a thorn cage!”

Hung chuckled, sipping his wine, leaning back.

“If she really wants to pursue Duyen, her greatest obstacle won’t be you—it’ll be her own family. Who dares defy their clan? Impossible. Unless she’s willing to do something insane, something so outrageous it’s never been done in a hundred years…”

Shana scoffed. “And you actually think she has the guts for that?”

Hung shot her a knowing look, smiling faintly.

“I may be a lecher, but my ability to read people hasn’t dulled, Shana. She may not have the guts to go head-to-head, but she’s clever enough to take a detour. Look at the way she’s pushing at SCJ. You can’t tell me she’s not fighting. She doesn’t even wear her wedding ring. She dares plenty.”

Shana tilted her head, tapping her chin thoughtfully.

“If she can even throw away her husband… then yeah, that woman’s crazy. But aren’t you curious, Hung? She’s been married four years, yet never breathes a word about him. Don’t you wonder what really happened between them?”

Hung’s expression softened with understanding, catching Shana’s implication.

Her gaze drifted to a small frame on her desk—an old pressed purple crape myrtle bloom, preserved with care. Shana’s eyes warmed, the image of Duyen flashing across her thoughts. Then, just as quickly, her expression twisted into something sharp and cruel.

“And that’s exactly why I know she’s no real threat. Whatever she’s doing—or planning…”

From the very start, Mina, you were already doomed.


---

Sunday again. Mr. Tuan was in the family storage room, organizing old things after long days running his pho shop. Though in truth, he had another reason for being there. He remembered seeing something when he was a child, but he wasn’t sure if it was real.

He shuffled through old photos, even finding his dusty wedding picture with his ex-wife. With a bitter sigh, he set it aside. Beneath it, something peeked out—the corner of an ancient, decaying painting. Carefully, he pulled it free. The paper was so fragile it might tear at any second.

“There it is…”

The painting showed a beautiful woman in a crimson traditional wedding gown, cradling a man who looked… dead. Tuan had no idea why his family possessed it, only that he’d glimpsed it when he was small. His ex-wife once urged him to sell it, but somehow he never did.

Then he noticed something strange—peeking out from the folds of the bride’s gown.

A tail.

A fox’s tail?

Before he could think further, the front door creaked open. He thought it might be his daughter, home from her milk deliveries. But the sharp clack of high heels told him otherwise.

“Sorry, but the shop’s closed today—”

He froze mid-sentence when he saw who it was.

Mina.

She entered in a dark off-shoulder dress, hair and makeup perfectly styled, her beauty sharpened into something even more dazzling. Her outfit radiated quiet wealth. Yet instead of her usual confidence, Mina looked flushed, almost shy, glancing around the empty pho shop as if sneaking in.

Tuan frowned. He had clearly hung the CLOSED sign outside. No one ever pushed the heavy door open like that without knocking first. The way she just slipped in sent a chill down his spine.

But Mina wasn’t looking at him. She was gazing at a photo taped to the kitchen glass window—a snapshot of little Duyen in a swimsuit at Cua Lo Beach, grinning beside her father. Mina’s face flushed even deeper.

A blissful smile curved her lips, like she had stumbled upon a treasure. Her hand lifted instinctively, caressing the photo, fingertips tracing over Duyen’s image. Slowly, she tried to pull it loose from the glass—

“Ahem.”

The sharp cough from Tuan startled her. Mina jerked, quickly pressing the picture back into place before spinning around in panic. Seeing him, she bowed hastily.

“H-Hello, sir! I’m Mina! I’m Duyen’s—”

“Relax, Mina. I know who you are.” Tuan raised a hand to calm her.

Her fluster eased only slightly. She hurried to fix her hair and posture—this was Duyen’s father, after all.

Moments later, Tuan invited her to sit, pouring a steaming cup of Vối leaf tea.

“Sorry, I don’t know what kind of tea you usually drink. This is all we have here.”

Mina waved her hands quickly. “No, no, it’s fine. I’m not picky.”

She glanced down at the cup. The scent was different from any tea she’d ever tried—mild, fragrant, almost soothing. She took a sip. The bitterness was faint, balanced by the sweetness of vối and lotus leaf combined.

“…Delicious,” she murmured, surprised. Was this what Duyen drank every day? Her cheeks warmed again when she noticed Tuan hadn’t said a word yet.

“The truth is, sir,” Mina began softly, “I came to visit Duyen. I went to the hospital, but they said she’d been discharged. So I took the liberty of coming here. First, to pay my respects to you. And second…”

She placed a lavish red gift box on the table—inside, a massive, expensive set of reishi mushrooms.

Tuan jumped up. “Good heavens, something this expensive—!”

“Please,” Mina urged, pressing it toward him. “It’s from my heart.”

He had no choice but to accept, though baffled. Never in his life did he expect a girl like Mina to show up with such a gift.

“To be honest,” Tuan admitted, “it’s an honor you came to visit. But Duyen’s still out delivering milk right now…”

“That’s alright,” Mina said firmly, “I can wait.”

Oh no. Tuan’s stomach twisted. Whoever walked through that door next—whether it was Duyen, Shana, or both—could blow up his whole shop into a warzone.

And how did Mina even find Duyen’s address? She must’ve asked the hospital. Please, God, let them not have told her the real reason Duyen was discharged…

As fate would have it, the door creaked open.

Duyen stepped in.

Both Mina and Tuan froze. Mina’s eyes lit up, her face breaking into a radiant smile. Duyen stopped short, wide-eyed—why was Mina in her house?

“Dad? Mina? What—?”

Before she could finish, Mina was already at her side, clasping her hand. She turned to Tuan, speaking with the ease of someone claiming what was hers.

“Sir, may I borrow Duyen for a bit?”

“Ah, er—yes?” Tuan stammered.

That was all she needed. Mina whisked Duyen out, leading her straight to her sleek red Maserati. Everything happened so fast Duyen barely had time to react. In a blink, Tuan was left staring at his daughter being driven away.

“Good grief! She’s so forceful, like she just kidnapped her…”

Then it hit him.

“Wait. Don’t tell me—that gift box earlier… was just a bribe for this?”

He slumped back in his chair, shaking his head.

“This Mina girl… she’s something else.”