If Vannie Lung still insisted on being an actress, then at the very least, she would have to let go of He Is My Husband.
Because this drama had become the turning point — the very climax of her nightmare.
"I can't!" she snapped, her voice trembling between anger and desperation. "You, of all people, know how hard I've worked for this role. It's only been three months, and you expect me to quit now?"
David's gaze hardened.
"Is this job more important than your life? Tell me, Vannie — what if this stalker isn't bluffing?"
She couldn't answer. She couldn't even meet his eyes.
Because deep down, she was terrified too.
It had been only a month since she took on the role of the villainess — the cruel homewrecker everyone loved to hate. And already, the hate letters had started arriving.
At first, they seemed almost ridiculous. Messages scrawled in red ink, telling her to "leave Lu Yi Fei alone," saying she "didn't deserve him," and that she "deserved to die for hurting Mao Anchi."
Names of her co-stars, twisted into the delusions of a stranger who couldn't separate fiction from reality.
Vannie had laughed it off then.
"My acting must be really good," she'd said with a dry smile. "How else could someone hate me this much?"
She even joked about it once.
"Maybe the person sending those letters is mentally unstable," she had said coldly, not realizing how close she was to the truth.
David hadn't found it funny. He hadn't found any of this funny.
He took a deep breath and held up the latest letter.
"This time," he said quietly, "they didn't just say they hate you. They said they want you dead."
Silence.
The kind that stretches too long, too sharp.
Vannie stared blankly ahead, willing it all to be an empty threat.
But David's expression told her otherwise.
"So what do you expect me to do?" he asked bitterly. "Keep pretending nothing's happening? Keep your secret until the day they actually kill you?"
If not for the fact that he'd be hunted down by their father and brothers, David might have already lost his temper completely.
Every single member of the Huang family adored Nattalie — protected her fiercely, sometimes to the point of madness.
They would never let a single scratch touch her skin.
Still, Vannie tried to sound brave.
"Calm down, brother. It's just some obsessed fan trying to get attention. I'm sure it's all harmless. People only send things like that because they get too caught up in the story. They don't actually mean it."
She smiled faintly — the kind of smile people wear when they're lying to themselves.
But she would regret those words before the day was over.
---
Filming was nearly done. Just a few more takes and the crew could wrap for the night.
Vannie excused herself to the restroom, grateful for a moment alone.
The evening air outside was cool, the sky bleeding orange and violet. She stepped away from the set to clear her head, breathing in the silence—
And then, pain.
A sharp, heavy blow struck the back of her skull.
She didn't even have time to scream.
The world tilted. Her vision fractured into white and red.
The last thing she remembered was the sound of something — a rock, maybe — hitting the ground beside her.
And then, darkness.
"VANNIE LUNG!!"
Voices shouted from all directions, breaking into chaos.
Her body crumpled. The set exploded into panic. Crew members screamed. Someone called for help.
David arrived seconds too late — just in time to see the blood pooling on the concrete.
---
The Huang household erupted into fury.
By the time they reached the hospital, Nakulla Huang's rage was barely contained. He stormed into the corridor, face white with panic. Then, without warning—
Smack!
The sound echoed as his hand struck David across the face.
"DAVID HUANG!!" Nakulla roared.
"What were you doing?! How could you let this happen to your sister?!"
"I trusted you to protect her — to watch her! And you left her alone?"
Nakulla's chest heaved. He pressed a trembling hand to his heart, fighting for breath.
His wife, Lilian, rushed to his side, her own eyes red with fear.
"Please, calm down, my love," she whispered. "I know you're worried — I am too. But David didn't mean for this to happen."
Vincent stepped forward, his expression as cold as it was furious.
"How did this happen?" he demanded. "Who did this to her? And why?"
David froze, guilt slicing through him like a knife. The promise he had made to Nattalie echoed in his head — Don't tell anyone.
Norte Huang, his oldest brother, grabbed him by the collar and pulled him close.
"Damn it, David! Answer him! What the hell happened to our sister?!"
Before David could speak, a new voice broke in.
Director Feng Yi Bai had just arrived, his face grave.
"Miss Lung has been receiving threats," he said quietly, his words slicing through the room like a blade.
The entire family turned toward him.
Nakulla's eyes widened. "What do you mean, threats? Who would threaten her? Why would anyone hate my daughter?"
Before he could answer, the doctor emerged from the emergency room.
Everyone fell silent.
"She's stable," the doctor reported. "The wound was deep enough to require several stitches, but no vital organs were affected. Her skull is… surprisingly resilient. However, she's still under anesthesia. You can see her in an hour."
For a moment, no one spoke. Then a collective sigh of relief filled the hall.
Nakulla turned sharply back to David, his tone low and dangerous.
"Now tell me," he said, his voice shaking with restrained fury, "what did Director Feng mean about these threats?"
David's throat tightened. There was no hiding anymore.
He met their eyes one by one, then finally said,
"Lilie's been getting messages from a stalker — someone who hates her role in He Is My Husband. They said she ruined the main couple. That she deserves to die for playing the villain."
The words hung in the air like poison.
"What?"
"You knew about this?"
"And you didn't tell us?"
"David Huang, what were you thinking?!"
The corridor filled with angry voices — and David, caught between guilt and fear, could only bow his head.
***