The Golden Swan's Trap

Tonight, L’Opéra was entirely booked by the high society. The crystal chandeliers hanging from the high ceiling cast a royal, honey-gold glow over expensive tailored suits and swirling glasses of French wine. The melancholy melody of a live violin drifted through the dining tables, painting a flawless picture of wealth and absolute power.

At the center table sat JouLyy, completely alone. She wore a gold sequin evening gown, her hair swept up in an elegant chignon that exposed her delicate neck and a diamond necklace worth as much as a luxury villa. JouLyy was the exact definition of a woman every man desired and every woman envied: beautiful, powerful, and the sole heiress to the Eastern Asia Textile Conglomerate.

But that serenity was brutally ripped apart the moment JockerLEE made his entrance.

JockerLEE walked in, looking sharp in a custom-tailored Tuxedo. However, he wasn't alone. With one hand casually shoved into his trousers pocket, his other arm was wrapped tightly around the waist of Leavitt—a young, ambitious model wearing a provocatively cut black lace dress, reeking of cheap perfume that desperately tried to scream luxury.

JockerLEE strode confidently to JouLyy’s table. Without a single word of greeting, he pulled a thick stack of documents from his breast pocket and slapped it coldly onto the white silk tablecloth, causing the crystal wine glass to tremble.

"Sign the divorce papers." JockerLEE’s voice was deep and icy, stripped of any remaining affection.

JouLyy didn't even flinch. She elegantly set her silver fork down and lifted her almond-shaped eyes to look at the man she had deeply loved for the past seven years. JockerLEE stared back at her, his eyes brimming with triumph and utter contempt:

• "Sign it. Then pack your bags and get out of my house. As of today, your entire retail chain and three subsidiary companies... all belong under my name."

Standing beside him, Leavitt let out a soft giggle, burying her head into JockerLEE’s shoulder. She threw a mocking glance at the soon-to-be-discarded "first wife":

• "Mr. JockerLEE is right, sister JouLyy. A woman's youth is far too short. Why hold onto a man whose heart no longer belongs to you?"

Faced with such public humiliation, JouLyy neither cried nor raged. Her sheer composure caused the surrounding atmosphere to drop instantly below zero. She extended her slender hand, gently lifting her glass of red wine, swirling it to release its rich, intoxicating aroma.

Taking a small sip, a mysterious, subtle smile curved her crimson lips. She locked eyes with JockerLEE, her voice as light as a passing breeze:

• "Are you absolutely sure, JockerLEE?"

That smile and that gaze suddenly sent a shiver down JockerLEE’s spine. A creeping sense of dread washed over him. JouLyy was entirely too calm. How could a woman about to lose her husband and her entire empire smile with such haunting confidence? But the sheer arrogance of a man who had spent the last six months backstabbing his mentor and secretly transferring shares quickly overrode his anxiety. He barked:

• "Stop playing mind games! My lawyers finalized all the legal transfers this afternoon. If you think you can—"

Reng... Reng... Reng...

The frantic buzzing of the phone in JockerLEE’s pocket cut him off mid-sentence. He frowned as he checked the screen. It was Huy—the Chief Financial Officer, and his closest accomplice in this grand embezzlement scheme.

JockerLEE pressed answer, his voice dripping with annoyance. "I'm listening! I'm finalizing things with the old woman right now. What's the emergency?"

However, the voice on the other end was not one of congratulations. It was a panicked, breathless scream, accompanied by the chaotic rustling of papers in the background:

• "Boss... Boss, we're ruined! Everything... everything is completely gone!"

JockerLEE’s face contorted. "What do you mean gone? Speak clearly!"

• "JouLyy... she knew about everything three months ago! All those share transfer contracts you signed this afternoon... you signed them with shell companies she set up! The exact moment you were heading to the restaurant, she triggered a hidden bankruptcy clause. She secretly liquidated the factories, emptied the accounts, and funneled the entire cash flow of all three subsidiaries into an offshore trust fund under her mother's name!"

JockerLEE felt his ears ring as if a thousand-pound boulder had just crushed his chest. He stammered, cold sweat breaking out across his forehead. "You're... you're lying! What about the retail chain? The brand?!"

• "Just empty shells, boss! The warehouses are completely bare, and the staff walked out in a mass resignation. But that’s not the worst part... that 200-billion-VND short-term loan we took out last month for raw materials? She cleverly used your brand-new legal status to guarantee it! Right now... you are the sole legal representative bearing that 200-billion debt! The bank and the economic police are sealing off our offices as we speak!"

Thud. The phone nearly slipped from JockerLEE’s violently trembling hand. His face drained of all color, turning a ghostly, deathly pale. He slowly lifted his eyes in sheer terror.

Beside him, Leavitt caught the words "200-billion debt" and "police." The blood completely left her face. She instantly ripped her arm away from his waist, taking two steps back as if JockerLEE were a walking contagious disease.

JouLyy gracefully set her wine glass back onto the table. The soft clink of the glass against the table was quiet, yet it cut through the room like a judge's gavel, delivering a death sentence to the traitor’s life.

She stood up, smoothing down her glittering gold sequin gown, and looked at JockerLEE with nothing but pure pity:

• "Did you honestly think a woman raised in the ruthless world of business like me could be easily outsmarted by a man who started with absolutely nothing? For seven years, I handed you wealth and status on a silver platter. Did you honestly believe that was due to your own competence?"

JouLyy stepped closer to JockerLEE, leaning in until her breath brushed his ear. She whispered in a voice that was sweet yet bone-chillingly cold:

• "I will sign the divorce papers. Congratulations on officially owning 'all of my companies.' Just make sure you scramble enough cash to pay the bank interest on time tomorrow... ex-husband."

Picking up her luxury handbag, JouLyy turned her back on him and walked away with absolute pride. The rhythmic, aristocratic click of her high heels echoed across the restaurant floor.

Behind her, JockerLEE collapsed onto the velvet chair, his eyes hollow and dead as he stared at the divorce papers. Meanwhile, his mistress Leavitt had already turned around, slipping out the door into the shadows without looking back.