A young girl married an old man. Terrified, she went to sleep early—and when she woke up the next morning, she was shocked by what the man had done to her during the night…
Nga grew up in a poor family on the outskirts of a city in Luzon. Her parents died early, so she lived with her grandmother. After finishing ninth grade, Nga dropped out of school and followed someone to Manila to work as a factory laborer. Her life revolved around 12-hour workdays, cold packed meals, a damp and foul-smelling room, and a few cheap outfits.
When Nga was 22 years old, she met Mr. Huê through an arrangement between their families. Mr. Huê was nearly 40 years older than Nga, a widower, with one son living abroad. People said that although he was old, he was wealthy: several houses along the main road, and if Nga agreed to marry him, he would take care of her grandmother’s hospital bills, pay off all their debts, and even buy the motorbike Nga had always wanted.
Nga hesitated. Mr. Huê was old, with wrinkled skin and almost white hair, thin in build, but his voice was still clear. When they met for the first time, he asked her directly:
“Are you afraid of marrying an old man?”
Nga didn’t know what to say, so she forced a smile.
The wedding happened quickly. There were only a few banquet tables, a handful of relatives, and none of Nga’s friends were invited because she felt ashamed.
On their honeymoon night, Nga sat on the bed, her hands trembling. She was afraid of that night—afraid that Mr. Huê would touch her, afraid of the smell of medicated ointment and the breath of an old man. When Mr. Huê entered the room and turned off the light, Nga pretended to be asleep. She curled up, pulled the blanket up to her neck, her heart pounding, hoping he wouldn’t touch her.
She heard Mr. Huê sigh, heard the bed creak as he lay down beside her.
And then, something unexpected happened…
Nga shut her eyes tightly, her heart pounding as if it might burst. She thought that night would be a never-ending nightmare. But instead of what she feared, Mr. Huê suddenly stopped breathing evenly. She opened one eye slightly and saw the old man holding a thick envelope, his hands trembling.
“N… Nga,” he stammered softly, his voice weak. “I… I don’t want to hurt you. I just want to tell you the truth before it’s too late.”
Nga was stunned. What truth?
Slowly, he opened the envelope and showed her the documents: a marriage contract, property papers, and most importantly, a letter from Mr. Huê’s own son—the son Nga believed was living abroad. In the letter, the son warned that his father was being pressured by a group of swindlers who wanted to seize his assets, and he urged Nga to be careful of “people who appear kind but are full of deceit.”
Nga looked at Mr. Huê’s face and saw tears running down his cheeks.
“I’m afraid of losing you… and afraid of putting you in danger. I thought if I told you the truth, you would leave me. But I couldn’t let you become a victim.”
Nga’s heart raced. She couldn’t believe it—the man she had thought might harm her was actually protecting her. She realized that all her fear and anxiety the night before had been nothing but misunderstandings.
That night, instead of a nightmare, they stayed up talking until dawn about their pasts, their fears, and their doubts. Nga realized that not all wealthy or elderly people were dangerous. And Mr. Huê, despite all his wrinkles and hidden fears, was the one person who truly cared for her with honesty.
The next day, Nga decided to stay—but with conditions: they would live honestly, with no secrets, and face all challenges together.
The shocking ending? As she prepared to leave the room, a message appeared on her phone—from Mr. Huê’s son:
“If you look closely, you’ll see that the one who truly wants to hurt us isn’t someone else… but someone right around you.”
Nga gasped, realizing that the game was only just beginning…
Nga couldn’t sleep all day. The message from Mr. Huê’s son kept replaying in her mind. Who exactly was this “someone around you” who wanted to harm them?
She decided to investigate quietly. While Mr. Huê was at work, Nga began going through documents and old letters in the house. She noticed strange patterns in the bills and receipts—transactions she couldn’t understand.
One night, while cleaning a cabinet, she found a small keycard and a USB drive hidden behind some books. She immediately plugged the USB into her laptop. Inside was a video file—secret footage from inside the house: people entering Mr. Huê’s home without permission, surveying the property, and leaving behind “warnings.”
As she watched one of the videos, she suddenly recognized the face of a longtime family friend—a former business associate of Mr. Huê who often visited the house. He was the one secretly spreading fear around Nga in order to control Huê’s wealth.
The next day, Nga brought all the evidence to the police together with Mr. Huê. When the officers saw the footage, they were shocked. The friend was summoned immediately and caught in the act of fraud.
In the end, they protected their property and removed the threat. Nga, despite all her fear and anxiety, learned to be brave and trust herself.
But before everything could truly end, another letter arrived at their house, unsigned:
“The game isn’t over yet. Look carefully—someone else is still watching you.”
Nga and Mr. Huê smiled. They knew they still had to remain alert. But now, they were no longer afraid. They were ready to face whatever came next—together.
A few weeks after the first threat was eliminated, life at Nga and Mr. Huê’s house seemed peaceful. But one night, as Nga quietly drank coffee in the living room, she noticed a shadow by the window. She closed her eyes, thinking it was just her imagination. But it appeared again—clearer this time.
She ran to Huê’s bedroom, but found nothing. When she checked their CCTV footage, she discovered an unknown figure dressed in black, quietly entering the house every night. What was shocking was the way the figure moved—its feet seemed to make no sound on the floor, as if it were floating.
The next day, they called in a security expert. When the expert examined the cameras, an old detail surfaced: all the footage from the past six months had a thin layer of manipulation—as if someone had been editing the videos to make everything look normal.
At that point, they uncovered a disturbing truth: the mastermind was Mr. Huê’s own son, who had long been secretly planning to take over all of his father’s wealth. He had used the former friend as a front, while he himself monitored the house through technology, creating the illusion of a constant threat “right around them.”
But there was one final twist: instead of framing Nga, the son chose to reveal the truth through the CCTV footage and letters, because he wanted to see who could truly be trusted in the house—and he chose Nga.
In the end, Huê and Nga decided to confront the son directly. Instead of cutting ties, they established clear boundaries and full transparency in all financial matters and daily life.
Yet before everything could fully conclude, as Nga walked through the garden, she found a small envelope beneath the mango tree. On it was written:
“This is only the beginning. Are you ready for the next game?”
Nga smiled. She knew that no matter what came next, she was no longer afraid. With every challenge, she and Huê would grow stronger, more cautious, and above all—together.