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?

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.

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.