Lara's tears spilled down her cheeks without warning, the large, pearl-like beads dripping from her jaw and onto the backs of her hands. Her slender shoulders trembled.

"Mrs. Griffin, I promise this isn't what you think it is…" she choked out in between sobs. "Tris told me he had a mission he needed my help with and told me to wait for him at the hotel… I didn't know things would turn out this way…"

"A mission?" I raised a brow. "What mission would require you to put on a white dress, wear his woven bracelet, and wait for him in a hotel room?"

Lara was rendered speechless by my confrontation, but her sobs grew louder until she caught the attention of the orphanage caretaker.

The caretaker was a lady in her 40s. She recognized me and immediately came to straighten things out. "Mrs. Griffin, Lara's still young and naive. Has there been a misunderstanding?"

I ignored the caretaker and fixed my gaze on Lara. "How long has it been since you and Tristan started this affair?"

Lara bit her lip, shaking her head tearfully. "We didn't… Mrs. Griffin, please believe me—"

"No way." I put my phone away and turned to leave. I saw no point in wasting my breath on her. I'd only just gotten into the car when Tristan called me.

"Gen, did you go to the orphanage?" He didn't sound pleased. "Lara just called me and told me you misunderstood her."

"Misunderstood her?" A wry chuckle escaped me. "And what was it that I misunderstood? That she was wearing your red woven bracelet, or that she met you at the hotel?"

Tristan was silent for a few seconds on the other line, then pointed out tiredly, "Gen, grow up, will you? I sponsored Lara, and she had a tough time growing up. What's wrong with my looking out for her? You don't have to be so paranoid."

"Paranoid?" I clenched the steering wheel a little tighter. "You weren't even on duty last night, were you, Tristan?"

"Were you tracking me, Genevieve?" Tristan demanded grimly.

"I'm not that bored."

After hanging up, I called Rowena. "Look into Tristan's shift patterns for the last six months and all the records of him checking into a hotel for his affairs. The more detailed, the better."

Rowena clicked her tongue on the other end of the phone. "Guess you're ready for an ultimatum, huh? Alright, give me a minute."

Half an hour later, I got an email from Rowena. It came attached with Tristan's shift patterns, which were circled in various spots in red. All the circled areas were the shifts he claimed to have been on, despite not even being on the team during those days.

When I opened the file containing his hotel check-in records, my heart nearly stopped beating.

It started about three months ago. He checked into hotels once a week at different locations, all of them near the orphanage. The latest record was his stay at the Wisteria, which ended last night. All payments were made with his credit card.

I felt my stomach churn as I stared at those records.

Tristan and I had been married for five years. I knew he was busy and that his job was dangerous, so I never bothered him with household affairs, whether big or small. When he said he wanted to sponsor Lara, I agreed and even bought books and clothes for her.

As it turned out, the man I'd devoted myself to had played me for a fool.

My phone rang again, this time with a call from Tristan's colleague, Jake Schafer.

"Hey, Genevieve. Did you get into a fight with Tristan?" Jake sounded conflicted. "He threw a huge fit in front of us earlier and swept all his folders onto the floor. He said something about you being unreasonable…"

My grip tightened around my phone as Jake continued, "Listen, Genevieve. Tristan's under a lot of pressure, and it'd be nice if you're a little more patient with him.

"Lara has it rough, and Tristan's only being kind to her for charity. I'm sure he doesn't mean anything—"

"What, he's so charitable that he's taking her to hotels to tend to her needs?" I cut Jake off, my tone edged with frost. "If you've nothing else to add, Jake, I'm hanging up."

After ending the call, I started the car and sped toward the police precinct. It was time to settle some scores face-to-face.

The compound at the precinct entrance was jam-packed with cars. I'd only just parked the car when I saw Tristan leaving through the doors, his tall and straight silhouette clad in the standard-issue police uniform.

However, he looked grim. It was obvious he'd seen me, for his brows furrowed as he hurried over to my car.

He opened the door and slid into the passenger seat. Rage colored his hushed tones as he hissed at me, "What the hell are you thinking, Genevieve? Must you make a big deal out of this?"

"Excuse me?" I leveled an icy look at him. "I simply want to know the truth, Tristan. What is going on between you and Lara?"

He turned his face away, avoiding my gaze. "I told you, she's just an orphan I'm sponsoring."

"And you've been sponsoring her hotel stays, too?" I sneered, "Do you take me for an idiot, Tristan?"

"Why are you so intent on making things hard for me, Genevieve?" He whipped his head around to glower at me viciously.

At that moment, a slender figure appeared at the back door of the precinct. It was none other than Lara.

She was holding a lunch box, her white dress billowing in the gentle breeze. When she saw Tristan and me in the car, she blanched, and her eyes turned red with oncoming tears.

"Tris…" she called out timidly, her voice trembling like yellowed leaves shaken by rough winds. "I brought you some chowder. I didn't know Mrs. Griffin was here, too…"

Tristan moved quickly, as if possessed with lightning speed. He threw the car door open and hurried over to Lara, instinctively shielding her. It was as if he'd practiced this move a thousand times: the fluidity and seamlessness were a jarring sight to me.

"What are you doing here?" he chided Lara, but his tone was layered with an imperceptible indulgence. "Didn't I tell you to wait for me in the office?"

"I didn't want the chowder to get cold…" Lara lowered her head, the red woven bracelet on her wrist sliding down to her arm. I couldn't ignore the bright red smear of that bracelet.

I opened the door and got out of the car. My heels clicked against the cement ground in a crisp staccato until I stopped in front of Tristan and Lara.

Tristan immediately pulled Lara behind him protectively, a subtle gesture that stoked the rage boiling within me.

"You're seriously protecting her now, Tristan?" I barked a dry laugh as I countered coldly, "Do you even remember who you're married to?"

"Stop kicking up a fuss, Gen!" Tristan scowled, his eyes venomous. "Lara's young, and you're scaring her."

"I'm scaring her?" I pointed at Lara and raised my voice. "Then, tell me what she's got on her wrist! I made that red bracelet for you! I had it blessed at a church before I gave it to you!

"You told me you'd never take it off and that you'd protect me forever, but what did you do instead? You gave it to another woman and took her to the hotel to spend the night!"

The police officers milling about turned to cast sidelong glances at us. Some even stopped in their tracks to discuss our altercation with frenzied interest.

Tristan's face went white, then red, and a vein popped on his forehead and began to throb. "You could've at least waited until we got home to talk about this, Gen! May I remind you that we're at a precinct?"

"Are you scared?" I took a step closer and stared into his eyes. "You didn't strike me as scared when you brought her to the hotel to sleep with her. You weren't scared when you took her back to our place and screwed her in our bed, either!

"You should have known this would happen when you decided to pull all that nonsense while dressed in your uniform!"

"Mrs. Griffin, please…" Lara interjected in a cracking voice. She was shaking as she clutched Tristan's arm.

She continued, "This is all my fault. Please don't blame Tris for any of this… I-I made the first move, and Tris turned me down at first—"

"You made the first move?" This was the biggest joke I'd ever heard. I fished my phone out of my purse and clicked on the security footage.

As I showed it to Lara, I asked, "Were you the one who decided to wear a white dress and walk into an elevator with him hand-in-hand?

"Were you the one who chose to wear the red woven bracelet I made and waited for him at the hotel? Haven't your parents ever taught you shame?"

Lara was quaking after hearing my torrent of abuse. Tears slid down her cheeks uncontrollably, and she suddenly crouched with a hand on her stomach, a cry escaping her. "My… My stomach…"

Tristan paled. He didn't think twice before he bent to help her up. "Lara, what's wrong?"

"Don't touch her!" I snapped. "Look at her! She's clearly faking it!"

"You're out of your mind, Genevieve!" Tristan roared, hatred flickering in his eyes and threatening to slice me open. "Lara's pregnant now! If anything happens to her, I'll make you pay for it!"

The word "pregnant" hit me like a ton of bricks. I staggered backward, staring in disbelief at Lara's slightly swollen lower abdomen. So, she was now expecting a baby with Tristan.

I snorted as my eyes lingered on Tristan and Lara, the star-crossed lovers putting on a show before me, and felt like life had delivered its joke with acerbic irony.

"Look at you, Tristan. You've sponsored Lara not only with food, clothes, and books, but now, you've also given her a child. You certainly give your job your all, officer," I drawled.

Lara wept even harder in Tristan's arms, saying in between sobs, "Let's go, Tris… I don't want Mrs. Griffin to be angry with me… Mrs. Griffin, Tris and I are in love. We love each other, and we just want your blessing."

"Love?" I laughed until I teared up, then pointed at the stone plaque by the precinct entrance, on which were engraved the words, "To Protect and Serve."

"You aren't so much protecting and serving as you are lying and cheating, Tristan. What? Is your love story built on the destruction of another's marriage?

"Let me make this clear for you, Lara: for as long as I'm Tristan's lawfully wedded wife, you will forever be his side piece and dirty little secret!"

"That's enough!" Tristan scooped Lara into his arms and shot me an icy glare. "For the last time, Genevieve: do not test me."

"Test you?" I watched as Tristan spun and left with another woman in his arms, my voice shaking with anger.

"You were the one who tested me first! I never made you do anything, did I? Did I hold a gun to your head and force you to cheat on me or lie to me?

"You should have known that I, Genevieve Hartman, was no pushover when you decided to crush my trust, love, and our five-year marriage under your boot! You're a police officer, Tristan, but that didn't seem to have stopped you from breaking the law you claim to uphold!"

I grabbed him by the wrist. His wrist was bare; the red woven bracelet I had made for him was already gone. I demanded, "Where's my bracelet?"

Tristan paused, and he squeezed out the words, "I lost it while I was on duty."

"You lost it?" I stared into his eyes, enunciating, "Then what's that on Lara's wrist?"

A grave look crossed Tristan's face. He opened his mouth to argue and explain, but in the end, words eluded him. He shook off my grip and walked away without so much as a backward glance.

The sun shone on his figure as he carried Lara away, drawing out their shadows until they looked like long, distorted caricatures on the ground. The portrait pierced through my heart like a poisoned arrow.

I watched them get into the police cruiser; the red and blue lights that beamed from the top of the vehicle were blinding as they sped off into the distance. Then, I crouched on the ground and wept my heart out.

I heard a frenzied discussion going on around me, accusations and conjectures filling my ears in a cacophony of sound. But I no longer cared about them or anything else.

The man who'd promised to protect me forever had hurt me in the cruelest way in the end.

My phone vibrated in my pocket. It was a message from Rowena: "I just found out that not only has Tristan been paying for Lara's rent, he's also bought her a new car in cash. Shall I send the evidence to the disciplinary committee?"

As it turned out, Tristan had not only given Lara companionship but also a home to share. I was his lawfully wedded wife, yet he treated me like I was no more than a stranger.

I wiped my tears and punched in my reply, which read, "Do it."

"Oh, Tristan, don't blame me for being heartless when you were the one who broke my heart in the first place," I thought. I'd make him pay for everything he owed me and more.

I found a highly experienced divorce attorney, Anna Gilmore, who frowned after seeing the evidence I'd presented for my case.

"Ms. Hartman, given that Detective Griffin has committed adultery, you are well within your rights to demand most of the marital assets… And even his entire fortune." Anna paused, adjusting her glasses.

She continued, "The only problem is that his bank card and most of his assets are under your name. He doesn't have many disposable assets—"

"I don't care about the assets," I cut her off. "What I want is to ruin his reputation."

Anna froze, then nodded in understanding. "We can do that, but we'll need more solid evidence, like… pictures or audio recordings of him and his mistress getting intimate."

I recalled the smart security camera we'd installed at home.

Tristan had insisted on installing it last year, nagging about his concerns for my safety while I was alone at home. The camera was linked to both my phone and his. I didn't use it much, but now, it might just come in handy.

I went home immediately and pulled up the camera's cloud storage. Indeed, I found some surprising evidence in it. Just half a month ago, Tristan had brought Lara home.

In the security footage, Lara was wearing my pajamas and pacing around the living room. Tristan hugged her from behind and lowered his head to kiss her neck.

"Tris, I can't believe you live here. This is much better than the apartment I'm renting," Lara said coyly.

"You like it? This will be your home in the future." Tristan added with a smile, "I'll put the house under your name once I divorce Genevieve."

"Really?" Lara's eyes lit up. "You're the best, Tris!"

"Of course." Tristan pinched her cheek lovingly. "My baby deserves the best."

He'd called Lara his baby, a word that made my ears feel like they were bleeding. He used to call me that in the past.

The footage continued with Lara and Tristan making out in the living room. A while later, they wrapped their arms around each other and took their endeavors to the bedroom—the bedroom I shared with Tristan.

I chewed on my lower lip. It was all I could do to keep myself from hurling. So, they'd been openly screwing each other under my nose and turning my house into their love nest.

I downloaded the footage and sent it to Anna. I asked, "Is this sufficient evidence?"

Anna's face was grave after she watched the footage. "Yes. Are you certain you want to proceed, Ms. Hartman? He won't be able to come back from this."

"I'm sure," I replied firmly. If Tristan wanted to play with fire, he'd have to deal with the burns.