Chapter 31

In the end, Van agreed with Mr. Quan.

Not because she was no longer afraid. Not because she fully believed in that thing called an empty-shell business model either. It was only that inside her, the fear of becoming poor had started to grow bigger than the fear of doing something wrong. The money in her account looked like a lot, but every day a little of it wore away. The car, her child, the shop, clothes, face, meetings with friends, times listening to other people brag about profit. All of it was like a silent grinder, crushing her confidence bit by bit.

Van did not want to become a beautiful woman with no money left.

The meeting was arranged by Mr. Quan at a high-end hotel on Dong Khoi Street.

Van drove there, wearing an elegant white outfit, her hair lightly curled, her makeup careful but not too sharp. She knew places like this were not only for talking business. They were also a stage. Whoever walked in had to look like someone with money, with value, with a future.

Mr. Quan was already waiting in the hotel lounge.

Beside him was a woman named Le. She was short, a little fat, round-faced, with short curled hair and a thin gold necklace around her neck. At a glance, Le did not look like a dangerous woman. She smiled a lot, spoke sweetly, her Southern voice soft and quick. But her eyes were different. Very clear. Every time Van asked something, Le only needed one look to know how much to answer and how much to keep back.

Mr. Quan introduced her:

“This is Sister Le. She’s done this model many times already. Just listen to her.”

Le took Van’s hand and smiled warmly, as if they had known each other for a long time.

“My god, you’re even prettier in person than in your pictures. Mr. Quan wasn’t wrong. With you, building a brand will be easy. A face like this, if you don’t use it to make money, it’s a waste.”

Van gave a faint smile.

She had heard that kind of praise many times. But this time, it was no longer ordinary flattery for a woman. It sounded like valuation. Face, body, style, social page, clothing, the way she walked into a hotel, all of it could become assets.

The three of them sat down.

Le began talking.

At first Van still tried to listen carefully. But the more she listened, the more her ears buzzed. Build the image of a female entrepreneur. A high-end spa chain aimed at successful women. Open three locations first to create coverage. The brand story had to have depth: a single mother rising after disaster, using beauty and nerve to build a career. There had to be photos of trips to Korea, meetings with cosmetics partners, acting as if she imported high-end hand-carried goods. Resorts, photos working by a pool, attending events, dinners with businesspeople, appearing on a few small media pages.

All of it sounded beautiful.

So beautiful that Van felt like she was being allowed to step into a dream wrapped in glossy paper.

Le took out an iPad and opened several spa designs. White walls, beige chairs, yellow lighting, dried flowers, a bright stone reception counter, Van’s name shaped into a soft-looking logo. Looking at it, it really did look expensive.

“For the first stage,” Le said, “you invest five billion.”

Van looked up.

“Five billion?”

“Yes. We open three big shops first. Each one takes about one billion for the premises, repairs, equipment, decor, and initial staff. The remaining two billion keeps the shops alive and polishes your name.”

Van frowned.

“Three shops, and each one costs a whole billion?”

Le smiled very quickly, looking straight into Van’s eyes.

“Only luxury and class make people trust you. Once they trust you, they put money in. If you spend money and build a pile of trash, no one will even bother looking at you.”

Mr. Quan sat beside her and nodded.

“That’s right. Sister Le is right about that part.”

While Le talked, Mr. Quan sometimes lightly touched her hand. Once he even reached over and smoothed a loose lock of hair by Le’s cheek, acting very close. Van saw it.

For some reason it bothered her eyes.

Le was a little short, ugly, and a little old too. Even compared with the Van of before, she was still a step below. Mr. Quan used to look down on Van, yet now he was sticking to this woman’s ass. The way Mr. Quan leaned in to talk to her, the way the two of them exchanged quick looks and then smiled, made Van uncomfortable. She wondered if she was jealous.

Jealous of whom?

Jealous because of Mr. Quan?

The thought made Van want to laugh at herself, then made her even more uncomfortable.

Le went on painting the picture.

“The most important thing is that you have to stand in the middle of this model. The spa is not what’s important. You are. People invest because they see you. They see you’re beautiful, classy, confident, with a chain of shops, media, pictures in Korea, partners, customers checking in. They will believe this model is rising.”

Van asked:

“But how will the money be spent?”

That question made Le look at her with satisfied eyes, like praising a student who knew where to ask.

“You still hold the money.”

Van was a little surprised.

“I hold it?”

“That’s right. I don’t hold your money. Before anything gets spent, I tell you. There are invoices, proper papers. How much for rent, how much for repairs, how much for equipment, how much for media, I give you all of it. You can control it.”

Hearing that, Van felt more at ease.

If the money was still in her hands, it meant no one had led her by the nose completely yet. She could stop if she saw something wrong. Could check. Could keep the right to decide. She told herself that.

Mr. Quan saw Van’s face soften, and the corner of his mouth lifted slightly.

Le poured more water for Van.

“Don’t think of this as cheating anyone. We’re selling opportunity. People with money have to take responsibility for their own decisions too. You don’t force anyone. You only make your own brand valuable.”

Van was silent.

That sounded much easier to swallow than the word fraud.

Selling opportunity.

Building a brand.

Raising capital.

Expanding the model.

Just by changing the name, something bad could become much more elegant.

The meeting lasted nearly two hours. In the end, all three agreed to work together. Van would prepare the money, Le would plan the opening of the first three locations, and Mr. Quan would handle connections to supply sources, a few media contacts, and people who might put in capital later.

When she left the hotel, Van was still a little floating.

She went down to the basement garage and sat in the driver’s seat, but did not start the engine right away. The rearview mirror reflected her face. Beautiful. Classy. A little tired, but still enough to make others believe she was a woman on her way up.

Female entrepreneur Van.

That title was both funny and sweet.

She drove out of Dong Khoi. The city lights slid over the car window, expensive and cold. In her head Le’s voice was still ringing: people invest because they see you.

Van did not know whether she was stepping into an opportunity or a trap.

But she knew she had already stepped in.

On a high floor of the hotel, Mr. Quan did not go home right away.

He stayed in the room Le had booked beforehand. The curtains were half drawn, and below was the city full of lights. Le braced her hands against the hotel window and looked straight out at the street. If someone down there happened to look up, they would clearly see that scene people called a lizard clinging to glass. Only this lizard was a bit ugly. Mr. Quan grunted as he shoved his cock into Le’s pussy. She moaned loudly, like a pig being stuck. Fuck ... fuck ... faster...

After a while, Mr. Quan lay back against the pillows, breathing heavily. Le sat beside him, straightening her clothes, her face still as calm as when she had been talking to Van.

Mr. Quan asked:

“You’ve already thought of the way out later, right?”

Le smiled.

“What do you mean?”

“That’s my daughter-in-law and my grandchild. Doing this, is there any risk?”

Le turned to look at him, her voice soft but cold:

“For you, or for Van? That girl is lucky. Investor money will pour into her pocket, she will rise, you will rise, and I will have money too.”

Mr. Quan looked at her.

“Sounds like a fairy tale.”

“My cock, of course there will be an ending. When that time comes, we just pull out quietly.” Le shrugged. “The law right now is heaven for fraud. As long as investors sign what they call a capital contribution contract, they can sue all the way to heaven. No one can arrest us. At most, Van’s reputation gets damaged.”

Mr. Quan was silent for a few seconds, then gave a low laugh.

“When that time comes, maybe she’ll need me.”

“You planning to have a threesome with me and her?”

Le stood up and went to the table to pour herself water. Her body was short and heavy, without Van’s kind of charm, but every movement was firm. She was the kind of person who did not need beauty to dig money out of others. She had something scarier than beauty: experience.

The two of them looked at each other.

No one said more, but both understood. Le crawled onto the bed and began sucking Mr. Quan’s limp cock. “I’ll drain it dry so it doesn’t go fuck around anymore, understand?” As she spoke, she squeezed Mr. Quan’s balls until they hurt.

In the car, Van suddenly sneezed.

She did not know that on that high floor, her name had just been placed in the middle of another chessboard. She only looked at her phone screen and opened the spa design pictures Le had sent. The logo with her name appeared on a classy white background.

It really was beautiful.

Van looked at it for a long time.

Then she saved the picture.

.

.

.

Vy was sitting blankly in the office when Tai walked over and lightly knocked on the partition.

“Vy, come to the meeting for a bit.”

She looked up. Her head was still tangled with things at home, family things, Old Tu’s cock, Old Tu fucking both his daughter Van and his daughter-in-law Mai, the rental block becoming more and more like a covered pot, everyone inside quietly boiling. But once she stepped into the bank, she had to return to the face of an obedient employee, hair neatly tied, shirt flat, smile just enough.

In the meeting room, Tai stood in front of the screen, talking about the branch’s year-end party.

“This year headquarters requires every branch to have a performance. Our branch has chosen a dance routine.”

The people below burst out laughing. Some were excited, some grimaced from embarrassment. Tai glanced at Vy once, then continued:

“HR has finalized the list. Vy and I will be in the main performance. Everyone else will support the group part behind us.”

Vy paused a little.

“Me?”

“Yes.” Tai smiled. “Who in our branch fits better than you?”

The sentence sounded like praise, but Vy still felt uncomfortable. The whole room turned to look at her. One female coworker teased her with a smile. A man from credit clapped. Vy only forced a smile, not knowing how to refuse. In this environment, many things were called “activities,” but if you did not join, people remembered your face for a long time.

Tai added:

“The branch has hired a professional dancer to guide us. Practice after work. Arrange your time, okay?”

Vy nodded.

“Yes.”

After the short meeting, Tai led her to a larger meeting room. There were already a few people from the organizing team, several women from HR, a man in charge of sound, and a young dancer in workout clothes. The plan was laid out fairly clearly: Vy would dance the opening, then Tai would appear behind her, the two of them would have a partner section in a sexy-dance style, then the staff group behind would come out to support. Finally, the female branch director would step up and sing to end the performance.

At first hearing, it sounded like a normal internal program.

But Vy knew why she had been chosen.

In the branch, she stood out the most. Young, pretty, balanced body, pleasant face. Those things had helped her receive favors before, but more than a few times they had also turned her into decoration for other people to use.

Tai stood beside her, his eyes on her longer than necessary.

A thought flashed in his head.

A good chance.

Practice began the next day.

The practice room was rented temporarily on the upper floor of a small center. A large mirror covered one wall, speakers sat in the corner, and the white lights made everyone inside look more exposed. Vy’s practice outfit was a tight short skirt and a glittering performance top, the neckline cut deeper than what she was used to wearing. When she changed and stepped out, Vy immediately felt many eyes fall on her.

Some people praised her sincerely.

Some looked too long.

Vy felt a little embarrassed, but she also could not deny there was a strange floating feeling inside her. She knew she was beautiful. She knew that standing before the mirror, under the lights, inside loud music, her body had pull. Being looked at made her uncomfortable, and at the same time made the blood in her body heat up. It was a hard feeling to name. Not exactly happiness. Not exactly shame.

The dancer was fairly strict. The movements had to be clean, the hips soft, the shoulders open, the eyes able to hold the viewer. Vy learned fast. After a few tries, she had caught the rhythm. People in the room clapped. Tai stood behind her, watching her in the mirror, the corner of his mouth lifting slightly.

When they reached the partner section, Tai stepped close.

“For this part, I’ll lift you. Just let your body follow the beat. Don’t tense up too much.”

Vy nodded.

In the movement where he lifted Vy high, Tai used the moment when both hands held her waist and thigh to slide his fingers and rub hard through the thin fabric right at her private area. Vy jolted, eyes wide.

The first time, she thought it was accidental.

But after that, every time Tai lifted her, his fingers deliberately rubbed hard against her pussy through the fabric. The later it got, the clearer he made it. His face pressed close to Vy’s face, eyes full of lust, his mouth whispering very softly:

“You dance really well...”