My wife had risen through the ranks of the Confidential Bureau, becoming its youngest team leader—all thanks to the "voice" of the baby boy in her womb, who could somehow identify traitors from within.

When the holidays came, I went to visit her.

But the moment I arrived, I heard the voice of that unborn child in her belly.

"Ah, it's Bad Daddy! He's the one who's been secretly selling off the core technology!"

I froze, stunned. Before I could even speak, my wife raised her gun and fired. The bullet tore through my shoulder.

"Who did you sell the technology to? Talk!"

Through the searing pain, I struggled to explain. "I don't even know what technology you're talking about. How could I possibly—"

Her expression turned glacial. Without a word, she lifted the gun again and pulled the trigger, blowing my head apart.

"Mommy is amazing! Bad Daddy is finally gone. The stolen data is all hidden on that USB drive."

Even as I died, I couldn't understand how I had become a traitor.

When I opened my eyes again, I found myself back on the day of the visit.

This time, I took the initiative. I pulled out the USB drive and handed it to my wife.

"If this is the evidence you want," I said, "go ahead, shoot me."

My wife, Mary Scott, took the USB drive and frowned slightly.

When she opened it, she found nothing inside but a collection of photos—just the two of us together.

She looked up at me, puzzled. "Why are you giving me this?"

I met her gaze. "Didn't our son say I sold off some kind of core technology? This is the evidence he was talking about."

In my previous life, someone had framed me—slipping classified files onto the USB drive I carried with me. But this time, the moment I was reborn, I had someone wipe it clean.

A flicker of surprise crossed Mary's face. She was just about to ask how I could hear our son's voice when the door was suddenly kicked open with a violent crash.

A man in uniform rushed in, his gun trained directly at me.

"Don't move! Hands where I can see them!"

His sharp, piercing gaze locked onto me. It was Brandon Dyer, my wife's partner and deputy.

Caught off guard, Mary turned to him in shock. "Brandon, why are you here all of a sudden? Lower your weapon first."

Her reaction didn't seem staged—she truly hadn't expected him to show up, which meant Brandon had come prepared.

"Mary, Jerry has leaked our military's core technology. He should be arrested immediately—"

I raised an eyebrow, a faint smile tugging at my lips. "Hold on. How do you know I leaked the technology?"

Then I turned to Mary, my voice sharp. "Was there already an order from headquarters to arrest me? Or are the two of you acting on your own?"

Brandon frowned, his tone turning cold. "Why are you still denying it? Isn't that USB drive the evidence?"

His eyes snapped to Mary as he urged impatiently, "Mary, the suspect is right in front of us. Are we not making the arrest?"

Expressionless, Mary tossed the USB drive to him. "Take a look yourself. There's nothing in it except photos of Jerry and me."

She pressed her lips together before adding reluctantly, "This time… the baby must have been mistaken."

Brandon stared at her in disbelief, shaking his head repeatedly. "That's impossible. How could it be wrong? The baby has never been wrong—every single time, it's been accurate."

He plugged the USB into a device, checking it over and over like a man possessed.

"There has to be something we missed."

The fact that even Brandon knew about our son's "voice" better than I, his own father, made my gaze darken.

I closed my eyes briefly, steadying myself before speaking.

"If there's nothing else, I won't disturb your work any longer."

I extended my hand toward him. "If you're done, return it."

Still unwilling to give up, Brandon searched through it several more times. Finding nothing, he finally gritted his teeth and handed the USB back to me. Then he turned and stormed out.

I gathered my things and reached for the door, about to leave, when suddenly, my son's voice rang out again.

"Bad Daddy! He must have moved the data and hidden it somewhere. Mommy, hurry and catch him for interrogation!"

My heart lurched. Cold sweat broke out across my back, but I forced myself to stay calm as I pulled the door open.

"Jerry, stop!" Mary's urgent voice called out from behind me.

I ignored her and kept walking.

"Traitor! Where do you think you're going?!"

In the next instant, Brandon came charging out of nowhere and kicked me hard, sending me stumbling back inside.

I curled up on the floor, a searing pain in my abdomen stealing the air from my lungs.

Brandon bound my hands behind my back with a nylon rope, his movements rough and practiced.

"So this is how the Confidential Bureau operates?" I gritted my teeth, cold sweat sliding down my temples. "No evidence, yet you accuse me of selling classified technology? No authorization, yet you restrict my freedom?"

Brandon let out a cold laugh, pressing the barrel of his gun against the back of my head.

"If you've got nothing to hide, why were you running? Don't even think about escaping, unless you want to die."

Just then, my son's voice rang out again, bright and cheerful, "Brandon is amazing! He caught Bad Daddy in one move!"

Mary approached with a frosty expression, gently stroking her swollen belly.

"Baby, where did Jerry move the data to?"

"Bad Daddy is too cunning. I don't know either. Mommy, you will have to interrogate him."

Mary lifted her head and exchanged a glance with Brandon. There was something in that look—something that sent a chill crawling down my spine.

"Take him to the interrogation room," she ordered curtly.

Brandon yanked me off the floor and shoved me down the corridor.

The interrogation room was cold and oppressive.

He forced me into a specialized chair. My arms were pinned to the armrests, and the automatic restraints snapped tight around my wrists and ankles.

I looked at the woman who had once been the closest person in my life, my voice carrying a final trace of hope.

"Mary… after three years of marriage, is that still not enough for you to know what kind of person I am?"

She stood with her back to me, facing the one-way mirror, her posture rigid.

"It's because I knew you too well before," she said, her voice distant, "that I find you even more disgusting now."

Suddenly, Brandon applied force. A sharp, tearing pain shot through my arm, as if it might snap at any second.

"Where is the data?!" His voice trembled with excitement. "Confess now, before it's too late!"

The agony brought a metallic taste to my throat. I clenched my teeth.

"I've never seen any data… Search all you want…"

Mary finally turned, her gaze slicing over me like ice.

"My baby is never wrong."

She bent down, gripping my chin. "Tell the truth, and spare yourself the pain."

At a single look from her, Brandon tightened the restraints. I was completely immobilized.

"Why are you being so stubborn?" Brandon toyed with a metal instrument in his hand. "For Mary's sake, I really don't want to use torture on you."

I struggled with all my strength, but it only made the restraints dig deeper into my flesh.

"This is coercion under torture!" I said, my voice shaking. "Have you forgotten all the Bureau's rules?"

I stared at Mary, hoping desperately that she would step in and stop this. But she only glanced at me indifferently before looking away.

In that moment, my heart sank into an abyss.

As Brandon adjusted his collar, a platinum tie clip caught the light—its gleam painfully familiar. It was the gift Mary had custom-made for our wedding anniversary, engraved with our initials. And now, it was pinned to another man's tie.

A bitter smile tugged at my lips.

"Why not just kill me and be done with it? At least then, I won't be in your way."

Brandon instinctively lifted a hand to cover the tie clip.

Mary strode forward and slapped me hard across the face.

"Watch your mouth!" Her voice was cold as ice. "Brandon and I are strictly professional!"

She, too, noticed the tie clip, her tone faltering slightly.

"It's just a tie clip. What does it prove? Rewarding a subordinate—is there anything wrong with that? You never used it anyway. It was just wasting space at home."

Something lodged in my chest, and a sharp ache rose to my throat.

I had always kept that tie clip carefully stored in my study. She must have taken it without telling me—only to give it to someone else.

When I'd asked about it back then, she brushed it off, saying she'd have a better one made.

Only now did I finally understand. In my previous life, her ruthlessness hadn't been driven solely by that eerie voice. It was because her heart had long since left me.

And once I understood that, a strange calm settled over me.

"Do whatever you want."

At that moment, Mary suddenly clutched her abdomen, and that familiar voice sounded again, "Bad Daddy… why are you making Mommy do something wrong?"

I froze.

It hit me all at once—the child in this life seemed completely different from before.

In my memory, just before my death in the previous life, that same child had been urging Mary—without hesitation—to pull the trigger.

Mary's boot slammed hard into my ribs. The impact knocked the breath from my lungs.

"You want me to violate confidentiality protocols?" she snapped. "Jerry, you've really thought this through, haven't you?"

The voice from her womb immediately echoed in agreement:

[Bad Daddy is awful! Mommy and Brandon, hurry and teach him a lesson!]

Brandon turned to glance at Mary. At her almost imperceptible nod, he swung the electric baton down, striking my temple with brutal force.

Warm blood trickled from my forehead. The metallic taste of it spread through my mouth.

"Confess!" Brandon's blows grew harsher, his voice twisted with excitement. "You're tarnishing Mary's reputation!"

Waves of dizziness crashed over me, but I fixed my gaze on Mary.

"This is abuse of power—extrajudicial torture!" I spat. "You're condemning me based on the voice of an unborn child?"

I spat out a mouthful of blood. It landed beside her polished boots.

"When the truth comes out, none of you will escape!"

Mary gestured for Brandon to stop. She took the baton and pressed it beneath my chin.

"Do you know how I became the youngest captain here?"

She slammed my head against the wall.

"It's all because of the baby's voice. I might be wrong, but it never is."

Then the baby's voice rang out again, "Bad Daddy! Still slandering me, even at the end. Does he really think he covered his tracks perfectly?"

Brandon stepped forward at once, his hand resting familiarly on Mary's belly.

"Good boy, tell me, what else has your father done?" The intimacy of the gesture was blinding, as if he were the child's real father. "I will make sure he's punished."

I let out a cold laugh.

"What a touching display. Is this how you usually handle cases?"

That single sentence completely enraged Mary.

She drew her gun in one fluid motion and fired. The bullet tore through my knee. Pain exploded through my body. Blood spread rapidly across the floor.

"You'll regret this!" I roared.

The voice spoke again, dropping an even more devastating accusation.

"Bad Daddy colluded with foreign spies. His company is a hub for intelligence transfer—who knows how many secrets he's leaked?"

That claim ignited Mary's fury.

As a key member of the Confidential Bureau, nothing disgusted her more than traitors. She raised her gun to fire again, but Brandon suddenly stepped in front of me.

"Mary, calm down. We don't have evidence yet."

He glanced back at me.

"Besides, we can't let him die so easily."

To my surprise, Mary lowered her weapon. With her stubborn nature, once she made up her mind, she never turned back. Just how much did Brandon matter to her?

Gasping for air, I forced out, "Mary, if you've got the nerve, just kill me!"

In a flash, Brandon's dagger plunged into my thigh.

"Want to die? Not that easy."

He switched on the recorder clipped to his chest.

"Jerry, do you admit to colluding with foreign spies?"

I spat blood and saliva straight into his face. "That's a baseless accusation!"

Fighting through the pain, I struggled against the restraints.

"I've always acted with integrity. This is a forced confession under torture!"

With a cold laugh, Brandon switched off the recorder and twisted the dagger cruelly in my wound. The pain in my body was nothing compared to the agony in my heart. Only after living this life again did I truly see Mary for who she was.

Amid my hoarse groans, a shrill alarm suddenly blared.

The basement doors were forced open as armed officers from the Confidential Bureau rushed in. Brandon barely had time to react before he was subdued.

The deputy director at the front strode quickly to my side and personally released my restraints.

"Jerry, are you alright?"

My hands trembled as I pulled a miniature recording device from my inner pocket.

"The evidence… it's all in here…"