Ly Nam Vuong walked closer, his gaze sweeping over Thanh Nha before stopping on her battered body. Yet his eyes carried no pity, no compassion. They were cold, sharp, half looking at her, half staring out the window.
No matter where his eyes drifted, they couldn't hide the contempt glimmering within them.
"I must admit…" he curled his lips into a smirk, "you have a very seductive body. But unfortunately, I have no interest in it, because your body only suits beasts."
He picked up his glass of wine, slowly taking a sip. The dark red liquid swirled under the light, adding to his icy demeanor.
He set the glass down, the clinking sound on the floor piercing the silence. Tilting his head, he looked at her with eyes devoid of emotion.
"If I hadn't witnessed it myself, I would have thought you were a virtuous, kind woman."
His eyes narrowed slightly, his deep voice laced with resentment.
"For something that never belonged to you, you heartlessly took Linh's life. And now? You've gotten what you wanted, and you want to die?"
Faced with his hateful stare, she could only shrink back, trembling like a small bird trapped in the claws of a predator.
"Do you know what I hate the most? It's that I couldn't kill you with my own hands."
He took another step forward, his towering figure casting a shadow over her as his cold voice continued.
"The only reason you're still alive is because of the blessing left behind by your sister." His disdainful gaze swept across her fragile figure.
"You think you deserve to be my wife? Let me make this clear to you, why I married you. Because before her death, Linh left a last wish, asking me to marry you."
He stepped even closer, bending down, his eyes locking deeply onto her tear-reddened ones.
"You thought that replacing Linh would make me love you?"
He laughed, but the laugh carried no joy—only icy ridicule.
"Don't delude yourself. Thanh Nha, you will never be Linh. And I… will never love you."
Ly Nam Vuong's lips curled into a cold, contemptuous smile, every word stabbing at her like a knife.
Her face turned pale, her lips quivering but unable to utter a sound.
He circled around her, creating a suffocating pressure that made her unable to escape his piercing gaze.
"So, how does it feel to have a husband who cares so much for you?" he asked, his tone dripping with mockery and sarcasm.
At that moment, the door suddenly opened. A beautiful woman walked into the room.
"What took you so long? You kept me waiting," she said softly, with a hint of reproach, but her sharp eyes landed on Thanh Nha.
Ly Nam Vuong turned, and suddenly his voice became gentle.
"What are you doing here?" he asked.
He quickly walked over and covered her eyes.
"You shouldn't see things like this, they're filthy to the eyes," his voice was warm and soft.
Without giving her a chance to react, he blindfolded her and led her out.
Before leaving, he turned back, his eyes no longer gentle and warm but chillingly cold.
"Behave yourself, live well, and don't even think about ending your life." His voice carried a deadly warning.
The door slammed shut with a loud bang. Even though he was far away, in the silent room, his soothing words to the other woman faintly echoed.
Thanh Nha sat collapsed on the floor, her body drained of all strength. Exhaustion and despair engulfed her.
Her throat tightened, unable to form words. Tears streamed endlessly down her face, but she no longer had the strength to cry.
Her mind was blank, lost in a fog of confusion. Everything around her was blurry; she wished she could wake up and have it all return to normal. But no, the pain from the wound on her wrist pulled her back to reality. Every throb reminded her that this was not a dream, but the cruel reality she had to face.
She still couldn't accept the truth that she had died, and her soul now resided in Thanh Nha's body. The unfamiliarity with this body only added to her confusion.
"Will my life forever be imprisoned here?" The thought circled endlessly in her mind, trapping her. A faint glimmer of hope flickered—she would escape, she would return home.
Thanh Nha tried to brace herself against the cold wall, her weak legs staggering. Every step was an effort; she was barely able to stand. Yet she persisted—she had to keep moving, she had to live.
Cold water from the shower cascaded down her body, helping her regain some clarity. The water soothed the pain on her wrist and washed away the filth left by those four men.
She scrubbed herself harshly, desperate to erase the disgusting scent they had left on her.
No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't wash away the pain, the humiliation, or the despair in her heart. The psychological wounds couldn't be cleansed with water and soap. But at least she could hold on to a shred of purity and a sliver of hope.
Her fair skin, tortured to the point of bleeding, bore aching wounds that reminded her of the cruelty she had endured. She clenched the bath sponge tightly before throwing it aside helplessly, covering her face with her hands as tears streamed down. The feeling of hopelessness surged, as if there was no way out, no one to save her from this abyss.
She stepped out of the bathtub, her body trembling from the cold.