My credit card was stolen.

I called the police.

I was sitting in the police station, halfway through giving my statement.

I saw my wife, who was supposed to be away on a business trip, and her first love, blushing, following closely behind her.

“Daniel Wright, are you wasting police resources over this?”

My wife slammed the letter of apology onto the table. “Sign it now! I don’t have time to argue with you.”

I glanced at the figure written on the apology—equal to three years of her salary—and smiled.

“You want me to sign it?”

“Fine,” I said, staring at the determined faces of my wife and her first love, raising the letter of apology. “Kneel down and admit your mistake.”

“Bow to me.”

——

“One more step.”

My voice turned colder. “No room for negotiation.”

The lawyer I brought with me immediately stepped in. “According to the Criminal Code, using another person’s credit card to steal over five thousand dollars constitutes a crime—”

“Enough!”

Rachel Summers rudely cut him off, turning to glare at me with fury. “Daniel Wright! We’re husband and wife, don’t make this humiliating. If you push too far, you’ll regret it more than I will!”

Her first love snapped loudly.

“Daniel, I know you resent Rachel and me for being together three years, and I know my presence bothers you, but be reasonable. Rachel and I were together first, we knew each other first. You can’t demand she cut me off just because she married you.”

Michael Carter’s tone grew pitiful. “My son just started first grade, and I don’t have an apartment in the school district, so I asked Rachel for help! Do you think I enjoy using your credit card?”

“You think I want to spend your money without permission? It tears me up when I do!” Michael’s eyes reddened as he looked at me. “I followed Rachel to the police station! Do you realize where that leaves me?”

“I’ll have to re-enroll my son! Now the whole school knows I stole credit cards! Are you happy?”

Michael barked out the last words, then turned stubbornly to Rachel. Rachel hooked her pinky finger around his.

“It’s okay.”

“I’m here.”

“I won’t let anyone stand in your way while I’m here,” Rachel said softly to comfort him, but her warning was directed at me. “Daniel, do you see how kindhearted Michael is, and how you’ve pushed him to this point?”

“You’d better sign quickly and tell Michael this was all a misunderstanding! Otherwise, how are he and his son supposed to live?”

I looked at Rachel’s confident expression. I remembered when I first discovered my credit card had been stolen, I wondered if something had happened to her.

After all, she hadn’t been home for weeks, always claiming to be traveling for work. Even on our anniversary, she’d only tossed out a cold, “Happy anniversary, husband.”

No gift.

No warmth.

She disappeared the entire day.

Now, watching her stand there protecting someone else, I realized my concern had been pointless. So why should I care about saving Rachel’s dignity?

I stepped forward, grabbed Michael by the collar, and slapped him across the face.

As Michael screamed, I raised my hand again, struck Rachel hard, and said, “Now I have more to deal with than just credit card fraud.”

I turned to the lawyer. “File charges. My wife might be committing bigamy—keeping another family outside our home, maybe even an illegitimate child.”

“As for the credit card fraud,” I sneered. “Since they refuse to admit it, we’ll handle it strictly by law and procedure.”

The lawyer wrote down all my claims as I requested and was about to negotiate with the police, but Rachel Summers stopped him.

“Daniel Wright!”

Rachel cut him off, her eyes locked on me. “Are you insane? Bigamy and illegitimate child? Do you realize how much damage you’re doing to me and Michael?”

“And you,” Rachel glared at the lawyer with disgust. “How much money did Daniel pay you to work for him?”

“Don’t you know I’m his wife? Every penny he spends is our joint property! You’re ridiculous trying to sue me with my own money!”

Michael Carter quickly joined in, pushing at the lawyer. “What gives you the right to sue me?”

“I’m also filing charges against Daniel for assault!” Michael covered half his face and glared at me. “Don’t blame Rachel for not loving you! You’ve always been so domineering—no woman would want a man like that!”

“You deserve to be alone forever!”

I listened to Michael’s rant and glanced at Rachel, who betrayed a flicker of guilt. What more did I need to understand?

Out of sight.

So that’s how Rachel thought of me.

If that was the case, why should I torture myself? I smiled at Michael, then looked at Rachel and nodded seriously.

“You’re absolutely right.”

Rachel, thinking Michael had persuaded me, was about to say, “You—”

But I cut her off.

“After all, I’m not like you,” I said, shifting the subject. “I’m not the kind of person who would ignore morals even if they were lying at my feet.”

I tapped my face.

“If you want to sue, go ahead.”

“But for now,” I added with a smile, “enjoy your fifteen days in detention—and the restitution.”

After all, I had bought a house to support Michael’s son’s schooling.

If repayment was required, Rachel would be ruined. I walked out of the station and climbed into Alex Hayes’s car. On the stereo, Sarah McLachlan’s I Will Remember You was playing softly. Her voice sang, “I will remember you, will you remember me?”

Alex handed me a green baseball cap and teased.

“Do you still like it?”

I stared at the cap in my hands and let out a bitter laugh. I ruffled Alex’s hair and muttered, “You looking to die? If not, just drive.”

I soon found myself sitting in the two-bedroom apartment Rachel had bought for Michael.

I looked around the place.

The setup was warm. A framed family photo hung in the living room: Rachel cradling Michael, with their child in front. The boy was still in elementary school and probably didn’t know his parents were now in police custody. My eyes fell on a stack of bills in the corner, showing the money Rachel had poured into Michael over the years.

From small sums—one dollar, a hundred dollars.

To larger sums—thousands, tens of thousands, even hundreds of thousands.

The total was staggering. I remembered how, after we married, Rachel spent less and less time with me, always repeating the same excuse: “I just want to become a better partner for you.”

Those words had muted all my resentment over our fading marriage. But then, I opened a drawer in the TV cabinet and found a USB drive. In bold marker, it read: Rachel & Michael.

I plugged the USB into the projector. The videos dated back to last year.

The Mid-Autumn Festival.

My parents and I had waited at our old house for Rachel the entire day. At last, she appeared, carrying mooncakes, apologizing, insisting she was too busy and asking us not to be upset.

Now, watching the footage on the USB, I felt myself sinking into ice.

On the screen.

Rachel knelt in front of Michael, flowers in her hands, eyes red as she whispered, “I didn’t say yes to your proposal back then, but today I’ll give you everything I once promised.”

“This house is the best proof of my love for you.”

The background was this house, surrounded by the Summers family. Everyone was saying, “Rachel, you’ve finally seen the light after waiting so long.”

“That’s right.”

“Rachel has been through so much hardship these past few years living with that kind of man to give Jacob a home.”

“Jacob is so lucky to be loved by Rachel. Even if Rachel doesn’t love that man, she’s willing to stay with someone else for Jacob, just for the money.”

Michael Carter’s eyes were red with tears, and he nodded his approval.

Then, a passionate kiss that moved the entire audience ended with the children cheering along.

I finally seemed to understand why, even when Rachel Summers and I were deeply in love, she always restrained herself. Even when I suggested having a child, her expression was indifferent.

“Daniel Wright.”

“We’re still young, and there’s plenty of time to think about children. But your family is large and wealthy, and I don’t want to be a mere shadow of others’ imagination. I also want others to be proud of me when they talk about me.”

Rachel Summers on Thanksgiving. The unfamiliar scent of cologne on her body wasn’t subtle, but after Rachel explained, “It’s just the client’s husband who’s wearing it. If you don’t like it, I won’t discuss this order.”

Rachel was too good at disguising herself, too protective of Michael Carter.

Even though I knew Michael existed, she simply told me, “If it weren’t for Michael, I wouldn’t know how to love someone.”

“They say that growing up with a girl allows the later generation to prevail. I didn’t think so before.”

Rachel nestled in my arms.

“Now, I’m so grateful to my ex. Otherwise, how could I have cherished such a good husband?”

It was all a trap.

It was all deliberate.

My fingertips felt cold, and even in the summer heat, I shivered. Sophia Lane, who was sitting next to me, remained silent until the video ended, then patted my shoulder.

I instinctively reacted, pushed Sophia aside, and rushed to the restroom to vomit. As I turned to grab some paper, I realized that even the toilet paper was the same one I was using. I remembered someone asking Rachel at the end of the video: “Will Daniel really not notice?”

“He’s so sensitive and suspicious.”

Rachel, however, was confident.

“I’ve taken care of every detail. He won’t be able to find any flaws.”

Even the toilet paper, toiletries, pillowcases, and utensils were exactly the same. The skincare products and perfume on my dresser were the same as mine. It was so detailed that it was as if Rachel was actually dating, marrying, and living with the same person.

No wonder I didn’t notice. I think Michael Carter in my police station has the same hair color as me. Exactly the same.

So similar that a chill ran down my back, but then I was draped in a soft coat.

“Have you figured out what to do?”

I turned around, met Sophia’s rare, concerned face, and forced a smile.

“Of course.”

My family always taught that if you get hit, you should fight back. If you’re bullied, you should make the other person feel even worse.

I was taught not to swallow anger, but to fight violence with violence.

I took the deed to this house and listed it online, selling it at 70% below market price. I had one condition. The buyer had to be ruthless and merciless.

Then, I had Sophia use her identity to exert pressure. After thoroughly investigating Michael Carter’s son’s schooling, I had hair samples from Rachel and Jacob prepared for a paternity test.

Finally, I led my men directly to Rachel’s hometown and raised my hand.

A loud explosion echoed through the quiet countryside, reducing the half-built new house to rubble.