Chapter 1

A year into our marriage, Timothy Grant suddenly turns abstinent. He builds a private chapel in the villa and always carries a rosary with him.

No matter how I tease or tempt him, he stays cold and distant. My seduction attempts don't move him.

One night, I stand outside the bathroom door and watch as he releases himself to a photo of another woman.

So, Timothy isn't heartless. His heart just doesn't beat for me.

I trick him into signing the divorce papers and vanish from his world completely.

And yet, I later hear that he is going mad searching for me!

The next time we meet is at his uncle's wedding. I wear a white wedding gown, and he looks at me with tear-filled eyes. He just can't bring himself to think of me as his aunt!

Chapter 1

It was the one night in a month that Timothy Grant and I could be intimate.

I accidentally let out a soft gasp, and all desire faded from his cold eyes. He said, "Josie, you broke the rules."

He quickly pulled away, threw on a bathrobe, and headed to the bathroom. Left alone on the bed, I closed my eyes in shame and embarrassment.

Everything had changed three years ago, after our first child passed away. Back then, under the pretext of laying her soul to rest, Timothy had built a private chapel in our villa, where incense would burn year-round as he prayed to the heavens.

He said those who were religious had to avoid indulgence, and he limited our intimacy to once a month at most. That wasn't all, though. I wasn't allowed to make any indecent sounds during our time together, lest it offend the sacred.

Even though I was only 25 and had needs, I could only comply with his rules.

…

Timothy left the house in the middle of the night.

Not long after, I got a call from my best friend, Ruby Slater. She sounded frantic on the other end of the line. "Josie, check the trending searches! Why does the sugar daddy exposed with Yasmin Beech look so much like Timothy?"

My mind went blank the moment I checked the trending topics. It felt like something had exploded within me.

"Breaking News! Rising Star Yasmin Beech Suspected of Having a Sugar Daddy to Help Her Climb the Ranks! Identity of Backer Still Unconfirmed! Stay Tuned!"

The photo only showed a blurry figure from behind, but how could I not recognize my own husband? His right hand, which was always adorned with a rosary, was wrapped around Yasmin's slender waist as they entered a hotel together.

Just then, I received two anonymous emails. A flood of high-definition photos filled my phone screen. The first showed Timothy on one knee, holding a delicate young girl in a puffy dress in his arms. He allowed her to wrap her arms around his neck and kiss his cheek.

The second showed Yasmin reaching out to brush dust off Timothy's shoulder. Instead of coldly pushing her away like he did with me, he indulged her with a slight, permissive smile.

The dozens of photos finally made it clear that his growing devotion to his religion over the past three years wasn't the reason for his increasing distance from me.

It was because he was cheating.

My nails dug into my palms as I took deep breaths, forcing myself to stay calm as I opened the second email. It was a single line of text.

"Mrs. Grant, do you want to expose this, or will you buy the photos out for ten million dollars?"

"I'll buy them out."

I sent the reply, then used every penny in my bank account to buy the photos that could ruin Timothy and Yasmin. The ironic thing was that the money came from the wedding gifts Timothy had given me when we got married.

Now, it was being used to buy evidence of his betrayal.

I kept staring at the young girl in the photos. If our child hadn't died, she'd be about the same age as this girl. Unfortunately, I never even got to see her face before she was turned into a handful of ashes in a tiny urn.

Back then, while I drowned in my grief, all Timothy said was a flippant, "We'll always have more children."

Now, I knew that we never would.

After securing the photos, I called Ruby. "Do you know any lawyers? I want to get a divorce."

Since Timothy was tainted, I no longer wanted him.

Ruby got back to me after asking around. The lawyer drafted a divorce agreement, but since we didn't know the full extent of Timothy's assets, the property division couldn't be finalized.

I said, "Just send me the divorce agreement for now. I'll negotiate the property division with him later."

After all, those photos had only cost me ten million dollars. The reputation of Grant Corporation's CEO was worth far more than that. As long as I held evidence of Timothy's infidelity, I didn't need to worry about the property division not going my way.

I printed the divorce agreement and placed it on the coffee table. Then, I dialed Timothy's number. The call was soon picked up.

"Is something wrong, Ms. York? Tim is busy comforting our daughter."

The sweet, syrupy voice sounded polite, but it pierced my ears like an iron spike. It seemed that Yasmin was aware of my existence.

I had wondered if Timothy had deceived her by pretending to be single, but it turned out she was willingly playing the mistress!

I had no interest in wasting my time and breath on someone like her. So, I said icily, "Put Timothy on the line."

"I'm sorry, but our daughter is clinging to him, and he's tied up right now. You can tell me whatever it is you need to say, and I'll pass along the message." Her tone was still soft and gentle.

Right after she spoke, I heard a young girl's voice ring out. "Daddy, will I still see you tomorrow morning? You always disappear for no reason."

Timothy tenderly reassured her. "Of course. I promise I'll still be here in the morning."

My heart clenched. How long had it been since I'd heard him speak to me with such warmth?

"Ms. York, is there anything else? We need to go to bed soon." Yasmin's seemingly polite words were laced with venom.

I said, "Yes, there is. Tell him to come back and sign a divorce agreement!"

Chapter 2

Yasmin went silent on the other end of the line. She was either too shocked or too thrilled to speak. After all, only my divorce would clear the way for her to take my place.

I hung up and sat before the coffee table, quietly waiting for Timothy to return. However, after waiting all night, it wasn't he who came—it was his assistant, Linda Johnson.

The moment she walked in, I sensed her hostility toward me. She had been Timothy's assistant for three years, and I had a vague feeling her affection for him went beyond professional.

She seemed smug when she saw me looking exhausted and worn out from a sleepless night. She said arrogantly, "Mr. Grant has kept you by his side for nearly four years. You must be feeling pretty awful now that Ms. Beech is about to become Mrs. Grant, right?"

"Kept" me?

Ha!

My marriage to Timothy was indeed a well-kept secret.

Four years ago, all the Grant family elders had been against Timothy marrying me because of my humble background. In the end, I had compromised, agreeing to just register our marriage without having a wedding.

Aside from those who were closest to us, no one knew that we were married.

Back then, Timothy had looked at me with heartache, stroking my hair and saying he was sorry I had to endure such treatment. He had sworn that once he secured his inheritance from the Grant family, he would give me the grand wedding I deserved.

But the truth was that I was still waiting for that wedding long after he'd gained the right to his inheritance. That was why Linda thought I was simply his mistress.

She looked at me haughtily and said, "Mr. Grant had me investigate the source of yesterday's scandal about Ms. Beech. It turns out your company is the one that leaked the news. You can't possibly be unaware of this since you're the editor-in-chief of the entertainment section, right?"

If one wanted to pin something on someone, they would always find an excuse for it.

Timothy hadn't bothered explaining anything to me despite his affair. Instead, he had pinned his scandal on me.

I said curtly, "I didn't do it."

Linda snorted. "The evidence is right there. Just admit it and part ways with Mr. Grant amicably. You don't want to end up getting thrown out and turn the situation into something ugly, do you?"

As soon as the words were out of her mouth, I shot to my feet and slapped her hard across the face. She froze and clutched her cheek while staring at me in disbelief.

I threw the divorce agreement at her and turned away. "It's none of your business how things are between me and Timothy! Get out!"

Linda's eyes widened in shock when she saw the divorce agreement. "You and Mr. Grant are married?"

But then, remembering that Timothy and Yasmin were already together, she gritted her teeth and bared them in a feral grin. "Mr. Grant has given me full authority to handle this.

"If you don't admit to leaking the news, you'll have to kneel in the chapel and reflect on your actions. You can get up only after you've come to your senses. Ms. Beech is still crying over this matter, you know!"

I almost wanted to laugh at the absurdity of this. Timothy had cheated, yet I was the one who had to reflect?

Linda continued, "You can refuse, but don't forget that your comatose mother's life depends on a cardiopulmonary support device developed by Grant Corporation. It won't be available on the market for another month. Mr. Grant can have it shut off at any moment, and your mother will die!"

Timothy was crueler than I had imagined. He knew that my mother was the only living blood relative I had left in this world!

I ultimately caved and fell to my knees on the cold floor in the private chapel. The faint scent of ambergris filled the room. It was the same scent that clung to Timothy and permeated every inch around me.

Never had I been more clear-headed than at that moment—I wanted a divorce from Timothy.

The housekeeper, Laura Smith, anxiously pleaded on my behalf. "Ms. Johnson, Mrs. Grant can't kneel like this! She has bad knees. This will only make them worse!"

Three years ago, after losing our daughter, Timothy had merely offered a few half-hearted words of comfort before flying around the world, claiming that it was for work.

What he didn't know was that I had spent countless nights kneeling in this chapel, asking the heavens whether they could return my daughter to me.

I should have gotten proper rest during my postpartum period, yet I'd knelt here day after day, barely eating or drinking. That had left me with lasting damage.

During that time, there had been endless rainy days, leading to my being diagnosed with rheumatoid arthritis. Even the doctor was puzzled by how I could have such a condition when I was so young. He said that it was irreversible and that I could only manage the pain with medication on rainy days.

Even Laura knew all of this, but Timothy didn't.

When Laura's pleas to Linda fell on deaf ears, she couldn't take it anymore and said to me, "I'm calling Mr. Grant right now!"

I gritted my teeth and endured the piercing pain in my knees, saying, "Laura, you're not allowed to call him."

Before, I'd kept these things from Timothy because I hadn't wanted him to share my pain. Now, there was just no need to let him know. He wouldn't care, anyway.

Laura didn't listen to me and called him. This time, Timothy still wasn't the one to answer the phone. Instead, a young girl's voice rang out. "Who is this? Daddy's shopping for clothes with Mommy!"

I smiled bitterly. At some point, Timothy had changed his phone's passcode and barely let me touch it. I had originally thought it was because he was protective of his privacy, but now I knew the truth—his mistress and daughter could freely use his phone. I was the only one who couldn't.

Laura froze. Then, she double-checked the number to make sure that she hadn't misdialed. Seeing my expression, she immediately understood what had happened and hurriedly hung up.

I forced a faint smile.

It wasn't until my knees started bleeding that Linda sneered and turned to leave. As she walked out, she threw one last threat at me. "I won't tell Mr. Grant about this since you've shown a good attitude by repenting."

After she left, Laura quickly helped me back to my room. Each step sent sharp pain through my body, making me gasp.

She was indignant on my behalf. "Mr. Grant has gone too far! How could he make you kneel there for hours while he was out shopping with another woman? And that girl…"

She trailed off, unable to bring herself to finish her sentence. She looked at me with concern.

I smiled weakly. "Could you grab the first-aid kit for me?"

Not long after she left, I heard familiar footsteps outside. Timothy was back, and I heard his conversation with Laura.

"Why do you need the first-aid kit?" he asked.

"Mrs. Grant knelt in the chapel for hours. Her knees are injured."

"Is she that delicate?" His tone was skeptical. He clearly thought that Laura and I were scheming to elicit his sympathy.

Laura mustered the courage to say, "Ms. Johnson bullied her. She kicked away the cushions and made Mrs. Grant kneel on the floor for ages."

Timothy's voice grew colder as he asked, "Who told her to do that?"

Chapter 3

"Wasn't it on your orders?" Laura asked apprehensively.

Timothy must have made a call after she spoke. His voice was cold, and his authoritative tone left no room for argument. "Linda, go to the finance department tomorrow to settle your accounts. Don't bother coming to work anymore."

Then, he walked into my room with the first-aid kit. His face was impassive as he sat on the edge of the bed and took my ankle, placing my leg on his lap. "It'll hurt a little, but bear with it."

His eyes lingered on the dried blood on my knees. He studied it before carefully disinfecting the wound with an iodine swab.

If those photos hadn't shattered every expectation I had of him, his focused expression might have fooled me into thinking that he was the same Timothy who had loved me long ago.

But last night, he was with Yasmin. He had spent all night with her.

In fact, perhaps he had been with her during all those days and nights he claimed to be on business trips for the past three years.

A wave of nausea hit me. I quickly pulled my leg back and scooted away from him. I grabbed a new swab to disinfect the wound myself. The sharp, distinct pain in my knee reminded me that there was no turning back for Timothy and me.

I avoided meeting his eyes and focused on bandaging my knee as I said, "Timothy, let's get divorced."

It was a decision that I had mulled over all night, one that felt like it tore my heart out. Yet, it didn't even elicit a flicker of surprise from him. His cold, handsome face remained impassive as he asked, "Divorce? Are you sure you can let go of what we have?"

After all, I had known him since I was five, when the York family adopted me. From then on, I was like his little shadow, and my world revolved around him.

He looked at me with disdain. "I can overlook you tossing these words out in a tantrum once or twice, but did you stop to think about the consequences if I were to agree next time?"

I swallowed my grief and said bitterly, "You have a child with another woman. What makes you think I'd still cling to you?"

Timothy narrowed his eyes as he scrutinized me. "You know about that?"

I gave a pained smile. My voice was thick with emotion as I said, "Your daughter with your mistress looks about three. That means that she was born shortly after our daughter died. Am I right?"

A strange expression flickered across his icy face, but he neither confirmed nor denied it. The silence was deafening.

After a long pause, he frowned and asked, "Are you that bothered by Daphne's existence?"

So, the young girl's name was Daphne.

I said weakly, "If her existence just satisfies your need to be called 'Daddy', then I can let this go."

Timothy suddenly stepped closer and leaned down. He braced his hands on either side of me, trapping me between his arms. I pushed against him, but in my current state, I had no strength to make him budge.

He leaned closer, his cool voice now laced with a strange allure as he whispered in my ear, "Compared to others calling me 'Daddy', I'd rather hear it from you."

I instantly flushed.

Before his sudden devotion to being religious, we had been like any other loving couple, often getting lost in each other. How many times had he coerced me into calling him "Daddy" during those moments of passion?

But now, thinking back on that, I wanted to bite my tongue off in shame.

Timothy, seemingly pleased with my reaction, smirked and asked, "Do you remember now?"

My cheeks burned. But as I looked at his familiar yet strange face, a sudden wave of calm washed over me. In an even, deliberate tone, I said, "There's no going back, Timothy. Whatever happened between us in the past will never happen again in the future."

A flicker of something crossed his handsome face. He straightened up so he was no longer pinning me down, his tone condescending as he said, "Just play your role as my wife. Playing hard to get won't work on me."

I couldn't take it anymore. I was ready to pull out the evidence I had bought for ten million dollars and lay it all out for him in a negotiation. Maybe then he'd see how serious I was about the divorce.

"Timothy, sign the divorce agreement, and we can part amicably. Otherwise, I'll—"

Before I could finish speaking, his phone rang. He answered it, and his tone was relatively gentle as he said, "Yeah, I'm home. Alright."

After hanging up, he said to me, "Your parents are coming over soon."

The words I was about to say caught in my throat. By "parents", Timothy was referring to my adoptive parents, Peter York and Elizabeth Brown, who treated me like their own.

I could wait until they left to discuss the divorce. Otherwise, it would be awkward if they arrived to see us in the middle of a discussion.

At my silence, Timothy went to the private chapel, ignoring me. Meanwhile, I headed to the kitchen to help Laura prepare dinner.

…

Soon, Mom and Dad arrived.

"Mom, Dad, you're here! Perfect timing—dinner's ready. Come on. Sit." I forced a smile, pretending as though nothing was wrong.

Noticing my limp, Mom asked with concern, "What's wrong with your leg?"

I was afraid they would find out the truth, so I brushed it off. "I tripped and fell. It's no big deal."

Dad said dotingly, "You're always so clumsy. Look at you, tripping over yourself when you're all grown up. Have you been to the hospital?"

"Yeah. The doctor said I'm fine." I quickly lied.

Mom looked around. "Where's Timothy?"

I faltered at the mention of him. "He's in the chapel. I'll go get him."

Dad stopped me, sounding cautious as he said, "No, it's fine. We'll wait."

The humility in his voice stung my heart. Although the York and Grant families had long had close ties, my brother, Jonathan York, wasn't cut out for business. The York family's business had declined in recent years, and they were now on the verge of being pushed out of Seavale's elite circles.

Meanwhile, after Timothy took over leading the Grant family and Grant Corporation, the company had aggressively expanded, swallowing up several businesses and growing its empire.

In recent years, if not for the Grant family keeping the York family afloat, we would've been devoured by our competitors long ago.

That was why Mom's and Dad's attitude toward Timothy had become increasingly deferential. They'd gone from acting like his elders to respecting him as if he were their superior.

Perhaps it was because I'd upset him, but Timothy had yet to emerge from his chapel even after Mom and Dad had been here for nearly two hours. I sent Laura to inform him of their arrival, but there was no sign of him.

It felt like he was deliberately snubbing my parents.

Mom seemed to sense something amiss and said worriedly, "Josie, I saw some news yesterday about Yasmin Beech having a sugar daddy. There wasn't a clear photo, but the man's back looked a bit like Timothy's. It… It's not really him, is it?"

My heart sank, and my eyes burned as tears threatened to spill.

Just then, Laura hurried over. "Mr. Grant is here!"

Chapter 4

Timothy's arrival interrupted Mom. He was as polite and courteous as ever, yet he carried an air of innate superiority. He said, "Peter, Elizabeth. Sorry to keep you waiting."

I let out a quiet sigh of relief. Fortunately, he didn't embarrass my parents or make them feel humiliated.

"No, it's fine. We just got here. We were chatting with Josie, so we didn't wait long at all!"

"You can go ahead and finish up whatever you were doing if you're not done. We're fine just talking here."

I lowered my head. "Come on, Mom. Let's eat."

Timothy sat at the head of the dining table. My parents and I sat on either side of him.

Dad looked hesitant as he carefully scrutinized Timothy's expression. His tone was almost groveling as he finally said, "Timothy, I have a favor to ask…"

Timothy said, "I know. York Group has been facing some difficulties lately. Don't worry about the funding. Did you bring the contract?"

Dad nodded eagerly. "Yes, yes, of course."

Timothy said, "I'll sign it later tonight, and Josie can send it back to you tomorrow. The funds will be transferred to York Group by Friday at the latest."

His words instantly lifted a weight off both Mom's and Dad's shoulders. Their faces broke into relieved smiles as they thanked him profusely.

"Josie is my wife. It's only right for me to help her family through tough times," Timothy said.

His words dispelled Mom's earlier doubts. Being a straightforward person, she didn't beat around the bush when she spoke. She smiled warmly and said, "Seeing you and Josie doing so well puts my mind at ease!

"When I saw the news about Yasmin Beech's sugar daddy yesterday, I actually thought it might be you. The worry had kept me up all night!"

Timothy and I stiffened at her words, but we quickly changed the subject.

After they left, I slipped the divorce agreement in with the last page of Dad's contract and brought them to the study.

…

In the study, Timothy was handling work emails at his desk. The warm light outlined his cold features. I used to adore this focused, serious side of him.

I sighed softly and handed him the contract, saying, "This is the contract my dad asked me to give you to sign. Take a look at it, please."

He glanced at me and smiled when he saw that I wasn't arguing with him anymore. "So, you've finally learned where to draw the line."

"Yeah. Thanks for helping my family." I thanked him, swallowing my grief.

Before signing, Timothy said, "By the way, I need to tell you something. The media's been too nosy lately, so I'm planning to move Yasmin and Daphne in here. Horizon Bay is the most private villa district in Seavale, so it's safer for them to stay here."

A suffocating pain gripped my heart. How could I have forgotten that he was a shrewd businessman? Every favor he gave came with a price. He hadn't helped the York family for nothing.

I forced out a single word. "Fine."

He continued, "Also, I'd like Daphne and Yasmin to stay in the master bedroom. We want to give Daphne a sense of—"

"Yeah, you don't need to explain anything. I get it," I interrupted. "I'll move to the guest room. The master bedroom is yours and hers."

Timothy didn't even belong to me anymore. Why would I care about a bedroom?

I pointed to the contract after agreeing to his terms. "Can you sign now? It's urgent."

Timothy didn't say anything else and started signing.

The further he went, the more nervous I got—the last page was the divorce agreement I'd slipped in.

Chapter 5

Fortunately, Timothy seemed to still have some faith in me. He only lifted the corner of each page and signed where needed without even reading the contract's contents.

When he signed the last page, which was the divorce agreement, my heart finally settled. I was afraid that he would realize what he'd done, so I quickly took the contract away as soon as he finished.

Back in the master bedroom, I carefully slipped the divorce agreement with Timothy's signature into the pages of a book for safekeeping.

It would take a month for the divorce to be finalized.

…

Later that night, I started packing to move out of the master bedroom.

When Timothy returned and saw me limping around, gathering my things to make way for his mistress and illegitimate daughter, he stopped me.

"Let Laura or the maids handle this," he said, his tone relatively gentle. "Once this blows over, they'll leave, and you can move back in. Don't worry. They won't stay long."

I let out a bitter laugh and swept a gaze over his serious face. "Should I be thanking you for your graciousness?"

His expression instantly turned cold.

I was just moving to a guest room, not into a new house. There wasn't much for me to pack. I grabbed some skincare products and clothes, but the most important thing was a small wooden urn from the top of the closet in the bedroom.

I didn't ask anyone to help me with it. I stood on a chair and carefully took the urn down myself. The child in those photos was Timothy's precious treasure, and this urn held mine.

But my treasure couldn't live freely like other children. It would stay forever in this urn, untouched by sunlight.

While I was retrieving it, Timothy was on the balcony, making a call. He meticulously instructed his assistant on the safest route to bring Yasmin and Daphne to the villa.

When he finished his call and came back in, he saw me clutching the urn. A trace of displeasure crossed his face. "Why are you taking that?"

His eyes held a hint of confusion.

I couldn't help but wonder whether he would still have cheated if our daughter hadn't died. Would our daughter have been his treasure, too?

The thought was gone in a flash. I didn't want to keep tormenting myself over a man like him.

As I turned to leave, Timothy grabbed my wrist. "I asked you a question. Why are you taking that?"

I looked at him icily. "Because this is the only thing in this house that belongs to me."

I didn't know whether my words had touched the last shred of his conscience, but he slowly loosened his grip.

I moved to the guest room and placed the urn in the safest spot. Then, I stared at it for a long time.

The next day at noon, Yasmin and Daphne were brought to the villa. Laura had just finished preparing lunch. It was a full spread of vegetarian dishes. No matter how varied or refined the dishes were, they were still vegetarian.

Neither Yasmin nor Daphne was used to it, but Yasmin seemed eager to please Timothy. Not only did she pretend to enjoy it, but she also coaxed and pressured Daphne to eat.

I scoffed. The glamorous TV star was nothing special after all. It was a good thing I wasn't her fan.

After tasting a few dishes, Timothy set down his cutlery, looking dissatisfied. "Were these ingredients freshly flown in today? The quinoa doesn't taste right, either."

Laura glanced at me awkwardly before explaining, "Mrs. Grant usually prepares your meals herself. She usually mixes other grains with the quinoa in precise proportions. She wasn't feeling well today, so I could only reproduce the recipes based on what I remember. I couldn't replicate the flavor."

Timothy probably hadn't realized how different the food would taste with someone else cooking. His gaze lingered on me, heavy with meaning, but I didn't offer to take over the cooking again.

After all, who would be foolish enough to pour time and effort into cooking for another woman's man?

Chapter 6

Timothy, ever lofty, would never deign to ask me to keep cooking his vegetarian meals. At the same time, he was a picky eater with sky-high standards for food.

So, he called his assistant and instructed, "Find a chef skilled in vegetarian cuisine. Money's no issue. I want them here by tomorrow."

At that moment, Yasmin, who had been playing the role of a pitiful guest since her arrival, spoke up. "Ms. York, I know you have issues with me. Moving in here with Daphne so abruptly was a bit rude…"

I stayed calm as I said, "You know it's rude, yet you still shamelessly moved in, didn't you? Is there nowhere else in the world for you to stay except Timothy's and my home? Do you have to resort to being a homewrecker to put a roof over your head?"

Her face turned red with rage before becoming ashen. She wanted to snap back at me, but held it in, her eyes brimming with tears as she looked to Timothy for help.

Only I noticed her fingers clenching tightly underneath the table.

Daphne was just a child, but she sensed the hostility in my tone. She ran to Timothy, climbed onto his lap, and asked timidly, "Daddy, who is this lady? She's so mean."

"Don't be scared, Daphne. She… She's not a bad person," he said, shooting me a warning look. He didn't lose his temper with me in front of Yasmin, though.

I figured that it was because I'd been "cooperative" despite him bringing his mistress and illegitimate daughter to flaunt them under my nose. I hadn't caused a scene, so he felt just a little bit guilty.

So, he didn't have the nerve to push me further. He couldn't expect me to not only accept his mistress but also smile and play nice, could he?

Yasmin's displeasure was palpable after failing to stir up a fight between me and Timothy. The table full of vegetarian dishes must have tasted like cardboard to her.

I couldn't help but scoff inwardly. Timothy had been devoutly religious for three years, and I, a meat lover, had eaten vegetarian food alongside him throughout that time.

Yet Yasmin, who wanted to steal my husband, couldn't even handle this hurdle.

I finished eating, set down my cutlery, and left the table under their complicated gazes. Back in the guest room, I took a deep breath and looked around the house that I'd lived in for nearly four years. I'd gone from the master bedroom to the guest room. I was even more like a guest now.

I hadn't slept last night and wanted to take a nap, but a knock abruptly sounded at my door. I opened it to see Yasmin standing there with a large bag.

She said, "Ms. York, I'm sorry about this. These are your and Tim's wedding photos. He said it's not good for Daphne to see them, so could you please put them away?"

"There's no need for that. Just throw them in the trash," I said, my expression blank. I moved to close the door.

But Yasmin didn't want to give up without provoking me. She quickly stopped the door from swinging shut and said in a soft and pleading voice, "Ms. York, Daphne is a secret between Tim and me, and we have reasons we can't yet reveal. You don't need to lash out like this. Once Daphne and I leave, you can hang the photos back up."

A secret?

Lovely. She and Timothy had secrets, hidden reasons, and I was just a pawn in their game. Was that what she wanted me to know?

I had no interest in wasting words on her, so I grabbed the bag and tossed it carelessly into my room. The glass frames inside shattered.

Yasmin was stunned by my actions, as if she couldn't believe that I wasn't heartbroken or even hurt. In her eyes, I should've played the part of the scorned wife. I needed to curl up into a ball and sob my heart out over the broken glass.

I glanced at the bag on the floor. "There, I've put the photos away. Is there anything else? Or do you need me to pack up other things? Should I also put away the bed Timothy and I slept in?"

Yasmin was left speechless. Her delicate features twisted in frustration. Unfortunately, all she got in response was the sound of me slamming the door in her face.

I didn't spare the photos in the bag another glance. I left the bag by the door for Laura to throw out later.

…

After my nap, I launched the Instagram app to see a new friend request. The profile picture was of Daphne, so it didn't take a genius to guess that this was Yasmin's account.

I didn't reject it. Instead, I accepted the request.

It was just as I had expected. She was gearing up to torment me 24/7 through her Instagram stories and posts. I should have ignored her, but my curiosity got the better of me. I pathetically tapped into her profile.

I wouldn't have expected any less from someone in the entertainment industry. Yasmin knew how to keep herself free from implication—not a single photo showed her face, let alone her with Daphne and Timothy.

However, there were many crystal-clear images of Daphne and Timothy. Every special occasion had a nine-photo carousel, complete with captions to commemorate the day.

When I was pregnant, I had imagined and looked forward to seeing Timothy as a father. Ironically, that dream never came true with me, but I found the answer in his mistress' Instagram posts.

I scrolled slowly, trying to pinpoint when Timothy had started having the affair. Then, I stopped at a particular date.

It wasn't the day his affair had started, but it was the darkest day of my life.

Chapter 7

I remembered it vividly. At the end of the year before last, my mother's condition had suddenly worsened. She was already in a vegetative state, but her organs had abruptly started failing. Her life had hung by a thread.

Experts had said that a new medical device could replace her blood and provide cardiopulmonary support, potentially reversing her condition if used in time. Coincidentally, the device was developed by Timothy's company. It hadn't been on the market yet and was only accessible through internal channels.

I had thought that it would be easy enough for Timothy to arrange. But when I had called him, he had cut me off, barely giving me the chance to explain my mother's worsening condition. "Tell the doctors to do everything they can for your mother. Money's no issue. I've got something urgent going on here, so I need to go."

He hadn't even had the patience to hear me out before hanging up on me.

Money was the easiest thing for Timothy to offer. It was just like me—easy to obtain, and thus, no longer cherished.

At the time, I had been utterly hopeless. I had wondered what could possibly be more important than my mother's life.

Now, I had my answer. The "urgent matter" he had to attend to that day was taking Daphne to an amusement park.

While I had been in Seavale crying my heart out in desperation, he had been at the biggest amusement park in Davalea with Yasmin and Daphne.

Even though Jonathan had later managed to get the device, saving my mother's life for the time being, the despair and fear of losing her that day would stay with me forever.

I fought to contain the rage and pain threatening to burst forth. I quickly grabbed my laptop to screenshot Yasmin's posts as proof. Everything she used to provoke me that day would be used as evidence when I faced Timothy in court.

Seeing those photos, I suddenly remembered what Linda had said yesterday—that the leaked photos had originated from my workplace.

How was that possible?

I was the editor-in-chief at Seven Star Entertainment. I had to review every article that went out. Were Linda and Timothy mistaken, or had someone in my department acted on their own?

Just then, someone knocked on the door.

Before I could tell them to come in, Timothy barged in and threw his phone onto the bed before me, looking ready to interrogate me. His voice was icy as he demanded, "How long are you going to keep this up?"

I picked up the phone in confusion to see that more photos of Yasmin had been exposed that day. They showed her with Timothy again, though his face was still blurry.

One thing was clear—these repeated leaks felt malicious.

I looked at him calmly. "I didn't do this. Can't you believe me just this once?"

At that moment, Daphne ran in, crying anxiously. "Daddy, Mommy's running away! Hurry up and stop her! Keep her here!"

Timothy's face grew serious at that. He scooped Daphne up and hurried out of my room. I followed them to the living room, wanting to clear things up with him.

There, I watched as he stopped Yasmin from leaving. Daphne clung to her, holding her hand tightly as she sobbed and begged her not to go.

I stood quietly in my corner, watching the family of three. The online community labeled Yasmin a talentless starlet, famous only for hype and her looks, lacking any real acting skills.

But I thought that she was a pretty good actress. After all, she could cry on cue and make it look good.

"Tim, just let me go. I can't take this anymore," she said, her voice full of grievance. "If this keeps up, my reputation will be ruined!"

Before Timothy could comfort her, I said coolly, "You've already brought your illegitimate daughter into my home, and you willingly became someone's mistress. Now, you're saying you're worried about your reputation?"

"Shut up, Josie!" Timothy snapped at me. Then, softening his tone, he said to Yasmin, "I'll handle this, alright? You can't leave. Daphne needs you."

Daphne was genuinely terrified that Yasmin would leave. She sobbed and said, "Mommy, if you go, take me and Daddy with you, okay?"

She pointed at me and said disdainfully, "This lady is so mean. I don't want to stay with her."

Yasmin picked her up as tears continued to stream down her face. "I don't want to leave you, too, sweetheart, but…"

I looked at Timothy calmly. "None of you needs to leave. I'll have a lawyer come over tomorrow to assess our marital assets. I'll take what's mine and go so that I won't keep scaring your precious daughter."

It was clear that Yasmin and Daphne wanted me gone, and I thought Timothy was backed into a corner with this. By leaving willingly, I was being so "understanding" that I was sure he would take the chance to let me go.

Unexpectedly, his eyes turned stormy. He snarled, "You're not going anywhere until this is sorted out!"

I was a bit disappointed, but Yasmin was even more so. She wasn't actually leaving, of course. After some theatrics, she was "convinced" by Timothy and Daphne to stay.

…

At dinner time, Laura knocked on my door and said cautiously, "Mrs. Grant, dinner's ready. Shall I bring it to your room?"

I knew that she'd overheard the argument in the living room and was afraid I'd face more hostility at the table. However, I couldn't let myself be falsely accused.

I wanted to leak all the photos I had and let the world see who exactly the mysterious man with Yasmin was. But since I hadn't done it, I refused to take the blame for it.

I didn't have Laura bring me the food. Instead, I went to the dining room.

Yasmin clearly didn't expect me to show up. She and Daphne sat on either side of Timothy, who was seated at the head of the table.

There was no place for me, huh?

I considered sitting at the far end, opposite Timothy, but that would have put me too far from the food. So, I calmly sat next to Daphne.

A second later, she jumped off her chair, looking startled as she scrambled to Yasmin's side. She looked at me like I was a monster.

Yasmin held her protectively and said to Timothy, "Tim, maybe Daphne and I should eat in the room."

She acted as if she and Daphne were both terrified of me and wanted to avoid me like the plague.

However, Timothy said, "You're not the one who should leave."

He turned to me and warned, "Enough with your jealous schemes, Josie. I told you that they're only staying here temporarily. They won't disturb you."

I curled my lip but didn't respond.

Yasmin put on a pleading look and said, "Ms. York, things between me and Tim really aren't like what you think. Please stop targeting me, and don't hurt Daphne. If her photos ever get leaked, I can't imagine the backlash she'd face."

Timothy's expression grew graver at the thought of Daphne being dragged into this. He gave me a look so sharp it was practically a blade.

I nodded. "You're right about her being innocent in this. Whoever's leaking these photos is shameless to exploit even a child. I'll look into it at work tomorrow and make sure there's an answer for this!"

Yasmin's eyes widened slightly, but she kept her voice gentle. "That might be hard to trace, won't it? Would the person leaking these photos be dumb enough to use their own phone for something like this?"

I smiled faintly. "Don't worry about that. I have my ways! I'll find out which backstabber is colluding with the culprit and playing the hypocrite!"

As soon as the words left my mouth, visible tension flashed across Yasmin's face.

Chapter 8

I was determined to conduct a detailed investigation on Monday and root out the traitor at the company. But the next day, I got a call from a company executive. "Josie, our investor has pulled out because of the leak, and we can't even cover payroll. I'm really sorry, but you don't need to come to work anymore."

I stood there in shock for a long time, clutching my phone.

I had accepted Timothy's proposal after graduating from college and had gotten pregnant soon after. My dream job at a news outlet fell through, and he'd held me close, saying, "Don't be sad, Josie. How about I invest in them? No one would dare reject you then."

I had refused, not wanting to be a nepotism hire. Instead, I had joined the chaotic entertainment media industry and worked my way up to editor-in-chief in three years with my excellent performance. Now, I'd been fired over something like this.

The man who had once offered to throw money to secure my dream job was also the one who had made me lose the job I'd gotten.

The disparity between love and indifference was painfully clear. A person's heart could change beyond recognition.

I stormed out of my room and went to the private chapel. Timothy was there, meditating as he kneeled on a custom cushion with his rosary in hand.

In the past, I had adored his serene, ascetic demeanor. I used to love his refined air that seemed untouched by worldly matters. Even when his devotion to religion meant that I had to follow strict rules, I'd never complained.

I marched over, grabbed the rosary from his hand, and demanded, "Is this how the gods have taught you to treat your wife? What gives you the right to meddle in my job?"

He frowned slightly at being interrupted mid-prayer. "That kind of low-class job isn't worth keeping. I'll give you money if that's what you need."

A low-class job?

I had stayed up nights writing articles and hustled for promotions. This was my hard-earned career we were talking about. How could he dismiss it so easily?

I clenched my fists and growled, "You had better get to the bottom of this leak! I'm not taking the blame for it!"

Timothy lowered his eyes. "Yasmin has already let it go. You should know when to quit."

I refused. "Has she let it go, or is she just scared to pursue the matter? Is she afraid that someone will uncover her little staged drama? Are you thinking with your manhood, Timothy?"

He scowled. "Watch yourself, Josie. Remember where you are!"

At that moment, Yasmin, who was ever-present, appeared with a cup of freshly brewed tea for Timothy. She turned to me and said, "Ms. York, Tim stopped you from doing that job to spare you the indignity. I haven't been in the entertainment industry long, but I've seen paparazzi get chased and beaten."

Her lofty tone made it sound like I was beneath them.

I retorted, "Then, have you seen mistresses get their hair pulled and faces slapped? You play the homewrecker with such 'dignity', and you have the nerve to say that my honest work isn't respectable enough?"

She paled, and tears instantly filled her eyes. She choked back a sob.

Just then, Daphne's anxious voice came from outside. "Mommy, Mommy, where are you? I woke up and couldn't find you!"

Yasmin hurried out, and Timothy, who rarely showed his anxiety, quickly followed.

I watched them silently. Then, I returned to my room and started submitting my résumé on a job-hunting app. Being Timothy's wife was less fulfilling than the "lowly" job he had sneered at.

After sending out about 30 applications, I ordered my old favorites—steak, pizza, and foie gras. It had been three years since I'd eaten these.

I was diagnosed with iron-deficiency anemia as a child, and the doctor said that eating iron-rich foods like lean meat was the best remedy, aside from medication.

But to follow Timothy's rules, I had pushed my anemia to the point of fainting just from standing up. All he had done at the time was have a doctor give me an IV drip. He had never once bent his vegetarian principles.

And what had I gotten from that?

…

When my food delivery arrived, lunch was ready.

The well-paid vegetarian chef Timothy had hired was on duty. He personally served the dishes he'd spent all morning preparing, making sure to explain each one in detail.

When Timothy saw me, he said to the chef, "You're very professional. I'll leave my food in your hands from now on."

Was that a jab meant for me?

The lunch seating was the same as the night before. Yasmin and Daphne sat on either side of Timothy, silently declaring that I was an outsider.

This time, however, I didn't sit next to Daphne just to get some food. I calmly carried my takeout to the far end of the table and sat.

No matter how lavish the vegetarian spread was, I didn't want a single bite of it. Why would I stick to grass when I had meat? I wasn't addicted to playing a herbivore!

Yasmin secretly shot me a taunting look to signal that she'd pushed me out of the picture… until I slowly opened my takeout bag, revealing the fragrant steak, foie gras, and pizza I'd ordered.

Chapter 9

The table was laden with meticulously prepared vegetarian dishes that the chef had spent all morning crafting. However, it was utterly outshone by my takeout spread.

Yasmin and Daphne, who'd eaten Timothy's vegetarian meals for two days, stared at my food with wide eyes. Yasmin visibly swallowed hard, and Daphne was practically drooling.

Timothy was the only one unmoved. He coldly asked, "Who allowed you to bring that into the house?"

I snorted and retorted, "You bought this villa after our marriage, which means that it's our joint property. Since half of it is mine, why can't I eat what I want in my own home?"

I sauntered to the wine cabinet and grabbed a bottle of exorbitantly priced red wine he had bought at an auction last year. I poured myself a glass.

Under Timothy's murderous glare, I took a seat and elegantly cut into my steak. I took a bite, followed by a sip of wine.

God, it was delicious.

I had lost my marriage, but I suddenly felt like I had everything again.

Naturally, Timothy wasn't one to take provocations lightly. He commanded his bodyguards, "Throw her food out."

As soon as he said that, Daphne tugged at his sleeve, looking pitiful. "Daddy, I… I want to eat steak, too…"

She swallowed hard several times and blinked tearily as she asked, "Why can't we eat meat?"

Timothy was stumped, unable to come up with an answer. Explaining religious practices to a child was like talking to a wall.

Yasmin, eager to please him, quickly said, "Daphne, Daddy means well for us. Eating vegetarian food is good for our health. People who eat meat all the time easily fall sick."

I nodded while savoring my meal. "Uh-huh. Leave all the suffering to me while you guys enjoy your healthy lives."

When I saw Timothy's stormy expression, I smirked. "What's wrong? Are you hungry, seeing me eat all this? You're so eager to toss my food out. Is it because you're afraid you'll lose control of your worldly desires and break your vows?"

He shot me a look before silently eating his vegetarian meal. He no longer told the bodyguards to throw out my food. Yasmin and Daphne grudgingly ate their vegetarian fare, but their eyes kept darting to mine.

This was easily the most satisfying meal I had had in years. By the time I was full, I had no room left for the pizza. It was untouched.

Daphne stared at it and licked her lips, her intentions clear. Kids were innocent, but what if she ate my food and got sick? What if Timothy accused me of harming his daughter?

And so, under Daphne's hopeful gaze, I summoned Laura and said, "Feed this to the strays in the neighborhood."

The light in Daphne's eyes was snuffed out. I could've sworn that even Yasmin looked disappointed.

After all, with the media and paparazzi hounding her, she wouldn't dare leave the villa. That meant that she would have to keep eating vegetarian food with Timothy.

Could she and Daphne be eyeing my leftovers?

The thought almost made me laugh out loud.

I grabbed a napkin and slowly wiped my mouth. As I left the table, I glanced at the spread of vegetarian dishes and said to Yasmin, "You'll be enjoying wonderful days like this from now on. I hope you like them."

If I'd known the consequences this lunchtime stunt would bring, I would never have done it!

…

That afternoon, I visited my mother in the hospital. She had fallen into a coma after a car crash when I was five, and she'd been treated here since.

She lay peacefully on the bed as the doctor told me something I'd heard countless times—there was little hope of her waking up. Maintaining her vital signs was already a miracle.

Even so, I sat by her bed and poured my heart out. I told her about my marriage to Timothy and how I acted carefree while secretly feeling terrified and lost about the future.

In the evening, I got a call from Laura. "Mrs. Grant, something's happened! Please hurry back!"

She sounded like the world had ended, but when I asked for details, she stammered, unable to answer me. An ominous feeling gnawed at me as I grabbed my bag and rushed back to the Grant residence.

As soon as I stepped inside, I heard Laura arguing with Yasmin.

Laura cried, "Put down the vacuum and wait for Mrs. Grant to come back to deal with this! You've gone too far!"

"Can't you see that the floor's filthy? How can I not clean it?" Yasmin's tone carried a casual threat. "You're awfully loyal to Josie, but don't forget who pays you. Do you think Tim will be happy when he comes home and sees this mess?"

I hurried into the living room. Specks of grayish-white ash were scattered across the wooden floor like an untimely snowfall. The rosewood urn, which held the remains of my daughter, lay tilted on the ground. Its lid had fallen open and had a jagged, gaping hole in it. It was as if my baby was silently weeping.

Outside, the night swallowed the last traces of daylight.

My body was stiff as I stepped forward and crouched to touch the scattered ashes with trembling fingers. The tiny grains felt scalding, and my hand shot back as if it had been burned. It was as if my daughter was screaming and demanding to know why I hadn't protected her. She seemed to be telling me how much it hurt.

Just then, Yasmin's voice rang out. "Sorry, Ms. York. Daphne saw you having all that good food at lunch and thought you were hiding treats in your room. She sneaked in there when I wasn't paying attention in the afternoon. She thought there was food in this jar, so she brought it to the living room. She accidentally dropped it and—"

A second later, I stood and grabbed her collar. I slapped her hard across the face like mad.

She screamed and instinctively struggled. "Let me go, Josie York! Tim will kill you if he finds out about this!"

It was too bad she'd underestimated the strength of a mother in despair. I wanted to kill her!

Amid the chaos, I heard Timothy's voice. "What are you doing, Josie? Stop it!"

Yasmin looked like she'd seen her savior. She cried, "Tim, save me!"

But as Timothy moved to pull me away, Laura stepped in front of him. She was probably worried that Yasmin would twist the truth and make me take the fall.

So, she did all she could to stop him. Then, she guided him to look at the ashes scattered across the floor. He froze at the sight of them.