His Feisty Mistress

Chapter 4 : Betrayal and Redemption

Giovanni P.O.V.

Sylvie, my wife, and a lieutenant, walked over to me and offered to help. She rubbed my shoulders, and I tried to shake off her hands. We both had a tough few months, ever since I caught her having an affair with one of my closest friends. It had been four months since that incident, and Sylvie had been insistent on seeking professional help in the form of marriage counseling to mend our relationship. Despite her infidelity, she seemed to blame me for our problems.

At the moment, I was dealing with a difficult situation with the new candidates. I didn't want to burden Sylvie with my problems, but she persisted in offering her assistance. I asked her if there was anything she could do to help me, hoping to get her out of the room quickly.

Sylvie works at Firehouse 264, which was located on the other side of town. She was a dedicated firefighter and a loving wife, but our relationship had been strained since her affair. I was still hurt and angry, but I also wanted to work things out with her.

As she stood there, waiting for my response, I couldn't help but feel conflicted. On the one hand, I appreciated her offer to help, but on the other hand, I didn't want to rely on her after what had happened. I took a deep breath and tried to push my feelings aside.

"Sylvie, you know that this is the first week of the candidate program," I said, trying to keep my voice calm. "I'm extremely busy, and I need to go set up the Physical Performance Test outside in the parking lot."

But Sylvie wasn't ready to let me go yet. "Wait, what's your motivation for doing that?" she asked, leaning against my desk. "I was under the impression that all of the applicants had already finished the test."

I sighed, feeling my patience wearing thin. I got up from my desk and walked over to my nightstand, pulling out my timer. "I need to make sure that the test is set up properly for the next group of candidates," I explained, hoping that she would understand.

But Sylvie still didn't seem to get the message. She followed me to the door, her eyes pleading with me to stay. "Can't we just talk for a little while?" she asked, her voice soft.

I hesitated, feeling torn. Part of me wanted to stay and work things out with her, but another part of me needed to focus on my job. In the end, I held the door open and gestured for her to leave. "I'm sorry, Sylvie," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. "I need to go."

Sylvie walked over to me, her handbag slung over her shoulder. She let out a heavy sigh before speaking. "You know, you make it so impossible for me to try and even get close to you again," she said, her voice tinged with sadness. "I've been thinking about how you make it so difficult for me to even try. Doctor Stadler advised that for us to have any chance of reviving our marriage, we must maintain an open line of communication with one another."

I felt a wave of frustration wash over me. I was tired of hearing the same thing over and over again. "Sylvie, if you hadn't decided to have a s****l encounter with one of my close friends, none of this would have ever taken place," I said, my voice cold.

Sylvie let out a yell, her frustration boiling over. "I did it just to get some attention because my husband wouldn't even make the effort to come home at night for weeks at a time!" she shouted.

I couldn't take it anymore. I turned around and walked out of my office, trying to escape the nightmare that my life had become. Since Sylvie had been absent on the day that Colbe died, she couldn't understand the pain and trauma that I had experienced. It was like we were living in two different worlds, and I didn't know how to bridge the gap between us.

As I walked into the equipment room, I took a deep breath and prepared myself for the task at hand. I needed to gather all of the items that we would require for the upcoming exam and make sure that everything was in order. I started moving along the racks, mentally going through the checklist and grabbing the items as I went.

First up were the two coats, which weighed a total of eight pounds. I checked them off the list and moved on to the two vests, which weighed a total of twenty pounds. Next were the two air tanks, which weighed 18.25 pounds each, followed by the helmets and gloves, which weighed a combined 2.5 pounds.

I continued down the list, grabbing the 58-pound bundle of hose, the rescue mannequin weighing 175 pounds, and the 12-inch exhaust fan. Finally, I grabbed the 8-pound club and checked it off the list.

With all of the gear in hand, I enlisted the assistance of some of the other candidates to help me transport it out to the parking lot. Megan and Michael were already there, waiting for us. Michael stood there, flexing his muscles and exuding an air of self-assurance, while Megan stood to the side, staring at the drill tower.

It was clear to me how different these two candidates were from one another. Michael was confident and outgoing, while Megan was more reserved and introspective. I wondered how they would fare in the upcoming exam and hoped that they were both prepared for what lay ahead.

"All right, candidates, gather around," Giovanni called out, his voice echoing across the parking lot. "It's time to get this test underway."

As the candidates gathered around, Giovanni's gaze swept over the group. He seemed to be deep in thought for a moment before speaking again. "I had an idea," he said slowly. "Why don't we make some side bets?"

There was a murmur of interest from the group, and Giovanni grinned. "You can place a bet on Mr. Mucho over there if you feel you have enough faith in him," he continued. "But if you're feeling lucky, you can place your bet on Megan instead. And here's the kicker - those who choose to place their bets on Megan will have their winnings multiplied by two."

The candidates looked at each other, some nodding in agreement while others looked hesitant. "Let's find out who you're loyal to within this group, shall we?" Giovanni said, his voice ringing out across the lot. "And remember, you have the choice to participate in no wagering at all!"

With that, the candidates began to place their bets in a hurry. Each wager was for $5, and there was a flurry of activity as people tried to get their bets in before the test began.

As the dust settled, it became clear that Michael had received support from 95% of the candidates, while Megan had only garnered support from 5% of the group. Giovanni nodded in approval, a satisfied smile on his face. "All right then," he said. "Let's get started."