For three full seconds, no one in the station spoke.

Hua Lien Thanh stared at me as if he had never really seen me before.

Then his expression changed.

Not guilt.

Not fear.

Anger.

“Duong Tam, enough.”

I looked at the officer standing beside the desk.

“I would also like the surveillance footage preserved.”

Lien Thanh’s face stiffened.

“What?”

“The hallway camera.”

I touched the side of my face where his slap had landed.

“And the camera above the statement desk.”

Then I glanced at the pieces of my phone scattered across the floor.

“And any footage showing him destroying my property.”

The officer hesitated.

Lien Thanh immediately stepped forward.

“I work here. This is a family matter.”

The officer looked uncomfortable.

That was exactly the problem.

Lien Thanh had spent too many years believing that his uniform could turn consequences into misunderstandings.

I smiled.

“A family matter?”

I pointed toward Luong Van Oanh, who was sitting several meters away with red eyes.

“Then why is your first love driving my family’s Maybach with my license plate?”

Van Oanh stood abruptly.

“Sister Tam, I really didn’t know—”

“Don’t call me sister.”

She froze.

I continued calmly.

“If you truly knew nothing, then cooperate with the investigation.”

Her face became pale.

Lien Thanh stepped in front of her almost instinctively.

That movement answered more than any confession could have.

I laughed softly.

“Still protecting her?”

“Tam Tam, stop making this bigger.”

“It became big when you used your position to solve your personal problems.”

His eyes flashed.

“You think your father will let you destroy my career?”

There it was.

The sentence I had been waiting for.

My family.

My money.

My father.

Everything Lien Thanh had mocked whenever we argued suddenly became useful when he needed protection.

I pulled a second phone from my handbag.

His expression froze.

“You…”

“You broke the one you knew about.”

I unlocked the backup device.

“I already sent the photos, call records, vehicle registration, and an audio recording to my lawyer.”

Lien Thanh’s face drained of color.

Van Oanh whispered:

“Audio?”

I turned toward her.

“Yes.”

“The part where Captain Hua asked me to withdraw a legitimate complaint.”

Lien Thanh took one step toward me.

I lifted the phone.

“And the part where he suggested I describe it as a false report.”

He stopped.

Good.

He finally understood.

This time, there would be no quiet conversation in some hidden corridor.

No apology followed by a favor.

No calling my father and expecting money to erase everything.

The duty officer cleared his throat.

“Captain Hua, perhaps you should step away from this case.”

Lien Thanh stared at him.

“You’re ordering me?”

“No.”

A new voice came from behind us.

“But I am.”

Everyone turned.

A middle-aged man in a dark uniform entered with two officers behind him.

I recognized him immediately.

Deputy Director Chen.

Lien Thanh’s superior.

And beside him stood someone else.

My father.

Hua Lien Thanh’s expression completely collapsed.

“Dad?”

My father didn’t even look at him.

He walked straight toward me.

His eyes landed on my cheek.

Then on the broken phone.

Then on Lien Thanh.

His voice was terrifyingly calm.

“Who hit my daughter?”

No one answered.

My father turned to me.

“Was it him?”

I nodded.

He closed his eyes briefly.

When he opened them again, there was no emotion left in his face.

Lien Thanh rushed forward.

“Uncle, listen to me. This is a misunderstanding.”

My father finally looked at him.

“Three days.”

Lien Thanh stopped.

“What?”

“My daughter has been married to you for three days.”

My father’s voice remained quiet.

“And in three days, you gave away property from her dowry, placed her at legal risk, destroyed something worth more than most people earn in years, and struck her inside a police station.”

He paused.

“Which part should I misunderstand?”

Lien Thanh opened his mouth.

Nothing came out.

Van Oanh suddenly began crying.

“Uncle, this really has nothing to do with me. Brother Lien Thanh only wanted to help me because I had just returned and—”

My father looked at her.

“You accepted a luxury vehicle registered to someone else?”

She stopped.

“I thought—”

“You used a license plate belonging to my daughter?”

Her lips trembled.

“I didn’t know the documents were—”

“Then tell that to the investigators.”

Van Oanh’s face went white.

Lien Thanh immediately said:

“She truly didn’t know.”

Deputy Director Chen looked at him coldly.

“You should worry about yourself first.”

For the first time, Lien Thanh seemed to remember where he was.

He straightened.

“Director Chen, I can explain everything.”

“I’m sure you can.”

Chen handed a folder to the officer beside him.

“Effective immediately, Captain Hua Lien Thanh is suspended from operational duties pending an internal investigation.”

The entire station went silent.

Lien Thanh stared at him.

“You’re suspending me because my wife is angry?”

Chen’s expression sharpened.

“No.”

He pointed toward the destroyed phone.

“I’m suspending you because an officer under my command appears to have interfered in a complaint involving his own family, misused another person’s registered property, and assaulted the complainant inside a government building.”

Lien Thanh’s voice became desperate.

“Director Chen—”

“And there’s another issue.”

Chen opened the folder.

My husband stopped breathing.

The deputy director removed several printed pages.

“Your vehicle access records were reviewed after Mrs. Hua filed her complaint.”

He looked at Van Oanh.

“The Maybach was not the only vehicle connected to irregular plate usage.”

I frowned.

Lien Thanh immediately looked at Van Oanh.

She looked terrified.

Deputy Director Chen continued.

“In the last six months, three different vehicles connected to Miss Luong were stopped and released without formal processing.”

My stomach tightened.

Lien Thanh said quickly:

“That has nothing to do with me.”

Chen placed the records on the desk.

“All three release authorizations carry your employee credentials.”

Silence.

Van Oanh whispered:

“Lien Thanh…”

He turned toward her.

“What did you do?”

Her eyes widened.

“Me?”

“Yes!”

His composure finally cracked.

“I only helped you with the Maybach!”

Van Oanh stared at him.

“You told me not to worry about any traffic issues!”

“I meant that one car!”

And there it was.

The first fracture.

They had spent the entire morning protecting each other.

Now, facing real consequences, they were already pulling in opposite directions.

I watched them quietly.

Three days ago, I had believed I married a man who simply cared too much about his first love.

Now I was beginning to understand something worse.

This wasn’t just about affection.

It was about entitlement.

He had believed rules could bend for her.

And I was expected to pay whenever they broke.

My father touched my shoulder.

“Come home.”

I nodded.

Lien Thanh suddenly grabbed my wrist.

“Tam Tam.”

I looked down at his hand.

He released me immediately.

His voice dropped.

“We can still solve this.”

“There is no ‘we.’”

“You’re my wife.”

“For the moment.”

His face twisted.

“You really want a divorce because of one mistake?”

I almost smiled.

“One?”

I glanced at Van Oanh.

Then at his suspended badge.

Then at the broken phone.

“Lien Thanh, I think your problem is that you’ve never learned how to count.”

I turned away.

But before I reached the door, Deputy Director Chen called my name.

“Mrs. Hua.”

I stopped.

He looked uncomfortable.

“There is one more thing you should know.”

My father frowned.

“What?”

Chen hesitated before looking at Lien Thanh.

Then he placed another document on the desk.

It was a copy of my marriage registration.

I recognized my signature.

Lien Thanh’s signature.

But attached behind it was another form.

A property declaration.

My name appeared at the bottom.

Except I had never signed it.

I walked back slowly.

“What is this?”

No one answered.

I picked it up.

The document stated that several assets from my dowry had been voluntarily transferred into joint marital ownership.

Including the Maybach.

A commercial property.

And shares my parents had given me before the wedding.

My hands became cold.

I looked at Lien Thanh.

He had gone completely pale.

I raised the document.

“You have five seconds.”

“Tam Tam…”

“Did you forge my signature?”

Behind him, Luong Van Oanh suddenly stepped backward.

And that tiny movement told me something immediately.

She knew.

I turned toward her.

Her eyes darted toward the exit.

I smiled.

“Interesting.”

Then I looked back at my husband.

“The stolen plate may be the smallest problem you have now.”