Passing through the security gate, Lữ saw smoke rising from the spot where his Jaguar had been parked; debris from the car's chassis was scattered everywhere. The assistant guard ran up to him, on the verge of tears:

"John is dead! He was killed when he drove your car—it exploded!"

Lữ said nothing; his lips were pressed into a tight line. John had died in his place. Had the Jaguar’s brakes not failed, Lữ would have been the one blown to bits the moment he started the engine. He knew instantly who was behind the plot to kill him: Vấn.
 
Vấn had collaborated with the Chinese Triads to plant a bomb in the car—retaliation for Lữ hiring Montello to take a shot at him on the San Diego Freeway. He could not underestimate this man. Vấn had survived a Mafia hit attempt, deduced the connection between Triệu Tôn and the Triads, and knew how to leverage that criminal organization to strike back at Lữ. Vấn was far more cunning and resourceful than Lữ had imagined.

Lữ dialed Uyên’s number on his cell phone. He realized immediately that the story about her being in the hospital had been a ruse to lure him into driving the booby-trapped car. Her voice on the other end sounded normal:

"What is it, Lữ?"

Lữ replied:

"My car was blown up by a bomb. I’m fine, but the guard who drove it for me was killed."

Uyên sounded panicked:

"What are you saying? Who planted a bomb in your car? Are you really unhurt?"

Lữ reassured her:

"I was lucky enough to switch to the Mercedes instead of the Jaguar, so I’m safe. It’s just a tragedy that John died in my place. Stay inside and don't open the door for anyone. I’m coming over right now."

He hung up, thinking about how Uyên was facing the same threats he was. He had to find a way to deal with the situation and protect her immediately.

Lữ got into his car and drove out of the condo complex. He began to hear the wail of police sirens. He needed to get Uyên out of the house and to a secure, discreet location as a precaution; he couldn't afford to linger. The police would soon be questioning everyone and investigating the car bombing. He would deal with the official statement later, alongside Kim.

As Lữ drove toward Uyên’s house, his mind raced over the car bombing orchestrated by Vấn and the Triad. Given the power wielded by this Chinese mafia group, Vấn had transformed into a dangerous enemy and a formidable adversary. His immediate priority was for him and Uyên to go underground, denying the Triad another opportunity like the recent bombing.
 
It wouldn't take long for them to realize he hadn't been inside the Jaguar—that the assassination attempt had failed. He needed to move Uyên somewhere they couldn't be tracked down. Furthermore, he needed Montello’s help now more than ever to counter this threat.

Lữ pulled out a cigarette and lit it. He hadn't smoked in a long time, as both Kim and Uyên disapproved, but in these perilous, trying moments, he felt he needed the smoke to help him think and formulate a plan. Vấn had undoubtedly briefed the Triad on Triệu Tôn’s death and the partnership agreement regarding the inheritance of a partner's share upon their demise.
 
The plot to kill him was about more than just revenge; it was a scheme to seize the assets of the VietCal Partnership. Lữ saw Vấn’s calculations clearly: once he and Uyên were eliminated, Vấn would inherit everything, as he remained Uyên’s legal husband on paper.

Vấn had surely promised the Triad a cut of the profits, motivating them to assist in taking him out. Lữ regretted having been so overconfident and having underestimated Vấn so badly. The cuckolded husband—vile and despicable though he was—possessed far more ingenuity and cunning than Lữ had imagined. The tide had turned; the man was gaining the upper hand, aided by the Triad in his plot to bring Lữ down.
 
Lữ realized he needed to be even more cautious and shrewd in this life-or-death struggle. It was a hard-learned lesson—the price he paid for underestimating his foe and for the arrogance that had grown alongside his unbroken string of successes in recent years.

Lữ gave a grim, sardonic laugh. He would be more careful, certainly, but his enemies would not escape. They would taste the vengeance he was preparing to unleash—a retribution that was fully deserved, and a punishment magnified tenfold, a hundredfold, beyond the harm they had inflicted upon him.