In less than half an hour, Dawson had confirmed Katia's identity.

They had even discovered she'd given birth to Quentin's illegitimate daughter.

Dawson, holding a sheaf of printouts, sat down across from me again.

"Ms. Sinclair, how long have you known about your husband's affair? Is this report simply a matter of personal revenge?"

Meeting his sharp gaze, I subconsciously tightened my grip on the water glass in my hand.

But my expression remained composed, my tone perfectly even.

"I discovered his affair while I was pregnant, yes, but I would never jeopardize my career to settle a personal score."

"It was only while investigating his infidelity that I realized something else was wrong."

"What was wrong?"

"His mistress is Eastern European. Her background raised some red flags."

Of course, I hadn't discovered this information myself.

Katia had sent it to me, eager to gloat and provoke.

Her existence had shattered every illusion I ever had about love and marriage.

Dawson's brow furrowed.

"And based on that alone, you concluded he was colluding with a spy and selling state secrets?"

My eyes welled with tears, and my voice trembled with a sorrow I could barely contain.

"Agent Dawson, I never wanted to make these family matters public, but with national security at stake, I couldn't dare hide anything."

"Everyone thinks I miscarried because of an accidental fall. The truth is, I saw a large charge on Quentin's credit card from a luxury baby boutique. The shock was so great it caused me to hemorrhage."

My words were a careful cocktail of truth and lies.

I had seen that credit card transaction.

But I had already miscarried by then.

I was only saying this to draw everyone's attention to the woman behind the purchase.

As expected, Dawson immediately followed up.

"What else passed between him and this woman?"

"Besides some explicit flirting, the thing she asked about most were the specifics of his work."

I paused for a moment before continuing.

"My maternal grandfather was General Sinclair; he once served as the Director of National Intelligence. Growing up in that environment, I developed a sensitivity to certain kinds of information."

Hearing this, Dawson looked at me with renewed surprise.

And this was my trump card.

With General Sinclair's reputation backing me up.

Who would dare question whether I was framing Quentin for selfish reasons?

When Dawson spoke again, his tone was noticeably more respectful.

"Ms. Sinclair, rest assured, we will investigate this thoroughly."

"We will not wrong an innocent man, but we certainly won't let a traitor get away, especially one who endangers national security."

I nodded and offered a subtle reminder.

"The chat logs might have been deleted by Quentin, but he has an encrypted external hard drive that even I don't have access to. You might find what you're looking for there."

Not long after Dawson left, a commotion erupted outside the conference room.

It turned out that Katia had also been "invited" to the consulate.

Her eyes were wide with terror.

When she saw me not far away, she lunged at me like a cornered animal.

After being restrained by security, she shrieked.

"Ava Sinclair, you bitch! What have you done to me and Quentin?"

A smirk touched my lips, my eyes filled with mockery.

"Nothing. I'm just returning the favor for what you both did to me and my child."

"Oh, by the way, didn't Quentin say that wherever you are is home? I'm just helping the two of you be together!"

The color drained from Katia's face.

It took a long moment before she screamed again.

"You vicious bitch!"

"No wonder no one loves you!"

"No wonder Quentin finds it disgusting to even touch you!"

A month ago, her words might have cut me to the bone.

But now, the more vicious her words, the more perverse satisfaction I felt.

They were panicking.

Due to the gravity of the situation, Quentin and I were secretly flown back to Washington on a government plane.

Except his wrists were bound by a pair of shiny steel handcuffs. Mine were not.

After all, I was the "whistleblower," and he was the "suspect."

As for Katia, her foreign national status complicated proceedings, so she had to remain at the consulate temporarily.

On the plane, Quentin kept trying to catch my eye, to find a chance to speak to me, but was always blocked by the guards.

Seeing his frustrated, anxious expression, a cruel spike of satisfaction shot through me.

Scared already, Quentin?

This is just the beginning.

When the plane landed, Quentin was taken to a secure safe house to await interrogation.

And I, as a "person of key interest," was put up in a designated hotel.

Soon, the director of the FSTI, Robert Langdon, came to see me.

Langdon wore a sharp suit, his gaze piercing, his entire presence intimidating.

His first words to me were:

"You're General Sinclair's granddaughter?"

I nodded.

At that, his tone softened almost imperceptibly.

"I trust you, Ava. You would not lie."

"However, we've conducted a preliminary interrogation of Quentin. He insists this is merely a matter of personal misconduct, that he has absolutely not betrayed the country. He claims you're acting out of spite."

"Katia also says that she and Quentin were just in a personal relationship, that she never asked about his work, and that the questions in their chat logs were just the curiosity of an ordinary person about a sensitive job."

"A personal relationship? Curiosity?"

I let out a scornful laugh, then took out my phone and opened the photo album.

"On more than one occasion, Quentin brought Katia to high-level FSTI functions as an undeclared guest."

"Katia repeatedly expressed her envy of my position to Quentin, saying she didn't want to be a housewife and hoped to have a respectable job like mine."

"So, he planned to use his authority to forge a letter of recommendation for Katia, to get her into a top-tier think tank that partners with us."

"I found the forged recommendation letter and application form on his computer."

"But for an organization like ours, that level of entanglement with a foreign national of unknown background is strictly forbidden."

As I finished, Director Langdon's eyes darkened.

He slammed his hand on the table.

"Reckless fool."