The Best Partner

I am a practicing lawyer with eight years of experience. In the industry, I am not among the top-tier, but I have a good reputation. Everyone knows that I am dedicated and highly competent. I deeply love my wife, Quincy Scott. She is also a lawyer, having entered the profession two years later than me. Quincy Scott has a prominent reputation in the industry, known for upholding justice and handling matters impartially. I have always been proud of her and firmly believed that we are soulmates and fellow travelers in our careers. That was until that name resurfaced—Kevin Luke. He is Quincy Scott's first love and now a renowned entrepreneur, at the helm of the Luke Group, which has a market value of billions. I first met Kevin Luke at a business reception three years ago. That day, Quincy Scott was holding my arm with an appropriate smile, but when Kevin Luke approached her, I clearly saw a hint of imperceptible panic flash in her eyes. I didn't ask much, dismissing it as a normal reaction to reuniting with an old acquaintance. I thought the past was long gone, and I was her present and future. Then, half a year ago, I took on a case involving illegal fundraising and commercial fraud. The key suspect in the case was none other than Kevin Luke. When I received the mandate, I hesitated. Not because the case was difficult, but because of Quincy Scott. I asked her if I should recuse myself. She looked at me with firm eyes and said, "Simon Lincoln, everyone is equal before the law. You should do what you need to do." Her words gave me immense courage. I threw myself into the case wholeheartedly, gathering evidence day and night. Kevin Luke's criminal methods were sophisticated, and he had erased traces extremely thoroughly. To find crucial evidence, I traveled to five cities and interviewed more than twenty witnesses. Sometimes, when I returned home late at night, Quincy Scott would leave the light on and reheat the meal for me. She would sit beside me, quietly listening to me talk about the case's progress, and occasionally help me analyze my thoughts. At that time, I always felt that with her by my side, no case was too difficult. After more than three months of hard work, I finally collected sufficient key evidence to secure a conviction: the original copy of an illegal fundraising agreement signed by Kevin Luke, an audio recording of him conspiring with partners to commit fraud, and a set of bank statements showing his asset transfers. I carefully stored these pieces of evidence in the law firm's safe and made a backup on an encrypted hard drive in my study. The night before the trial, I specially brought the hard drive home to double-check the details. Quincy Scott said she was a little tired and went to the bedroom to rest first. I worked in the study until after eleven o'clock. When I got up to go to the bedroom, I found she wasn't in bed. The study light was still on. As I walked over, I saw her sitting at my desk with my encrypted hard drive in front of her. My heart sank sharply. "Quincy, what are you doing?" My voice trembled slightly. She turned around, her face pale, her eyes evasive, and a USB drive in her hand. "I... I just wanted to check on the progress of your case," her voice was soft, filled with obvious panic. "This is confidential evidence—you can't touch it!" I quickly stepped forward and snatched the hard drive away. I opened it, only to find that the backup files were gone. "Where are the files?" I stared into her eyes, hoping to see denial there. She remained silent for a long time, then finally lowered her head, her voice choked with sobs: "Simon Lincoln, I'm sorry..." At that moment, I felt as if I had fallen into an ice cave. I couldn't believe that the wife I loved deeply, my colleague who fought alongside me, had tampered with my evidence. "It's for Kevin Luke, isn't it?" I tried to keep my voice calm, but my fingers couldn't stop shaking. She didn't deny it, just cried and said: "He's my first love. I can't bear to see him go to jail... Simon Lincoln, please, let him off this time." Let him off? I thought of the victims deceived by Kevin Luke, of the way they cried and begged me to seek justice for them. I thought of the more than three months of running around, of the nights I stayed up until the early morning. All my efforts, all my perseverance, shattered into nothingness at her words.