Chapter 70

After Pamela left, Cynthia returned to her office, where she saw Lilian leaving with a box.

"What have you done to me?" Lilian cried.

Cynthia almost chuckled. Lilian was a skilled actress, constantly feigning helplessness. "You brought this upon yourself," Cynthia said.

Lilian looked at Cynthia pitifully, but without resentment. "Cynthia, are you happy with what you’ve done?"

Lilian continued, "Everything I did, I hoped it would make you divorce Filip. Can't you take pity on me? Do you really want my baby to be born illegitimate and called a bastard forever?"

Looking contemptuous and indifferent, Cynthia snorted. "If the child is born illegitimate and criticized, it will be because of you, not me. You're the one who did those terrible things and refused to be a decent human being. I actually sympathize with the baby; they have to deal with a mother like you."

Cynthia stared at her. "You hate Sarah for being psychopathic and twisted, and you hate your own family. But how are you any better? Your child might even resent you in the future. This is your retribution, Lilian."

Lilian's face flushed crimson. Her gaze, filled with fear and disgust at the mention of Sarah, darted around. She clutched her belly. "I'll never treat my child like Sarah did. I love my child more than anything. He's the product of my love and my beloved's. You'll never understand how much I love him."

Cynthia remained indifferent, even languid. "I don't need to understand, and I'm too lazy to. Filip and I haven't had anything to do with each other for a long time. I don't care whether you live a good or bad life."

Lilian's gaze flickered. "What do you mean?"

Cynthia smirked, a sly glint in her eyes—a calculating expression Lilian remembered from their student days. Cynthia had always been someone not to be trifled with.

"Lilian," Cynthia said, "didn't Filip ever tell you that we never got a marriage certificate? Our marriage technically never existed."

Lilian's eyes widened; she was too stunned to speak.

Cynthia continued, fanning the flames. "We were never married. Why didn't Filip tell you? He didn't want to give you the position of Mrs. Yates that you so desired. If he truly loved you, he would have gotten a marriage certificate long ago. Why would he let you get pregnant and wait for him to leave a marriage that doesn't even exist?"

Lilian was speechless. Complicated emotions swirled in her eyes.

Cynthia, who was very tall, squatted slightly to meet Lilian's gaze. "You're so pitiful, Lilian." She then turned and left, flicking her wavy hair. Her words hit Lilian hard. The box in Lilian's hand fell to the ground with a clang. She was panicking, barely able to stand.

She wondered, "How could this be? Filip and Cynthia never got a marriage certificate. But why did Filip never mention it? Is Cynthia considered Mrs. Yates in his heart even without a certificate? Why did Filip lie to me?"

Soon, a more serious thought struck Lilian: the divorce agreement she'd given Filip last night. Since his marriage to Cynthia never existed, there was no need for a divorce agreement at all. Cynthia had dug a hole, and Lilian had jumped in.

Filip must have known she was lying the moment she presented the agreement. It was forged to get him to divorce Cynthia. The truth had unraveled. No wonder, despite soothing him last night, he'd suddenly gone crazy and choked her. He must have noticed the signature; he probably discovered she'd imitated Cynthia's signature. And since she could imitate Cynthia's handwriting, the diary that caused his breakup with Cynthia could have been forged too.

Filip must have figured it all out. That's why his temperament changed so drastically.

Lilian collapsed onto the floor, feeling as if she'd fallen into an ice cellar.

At noon, Cynthia planned to call Jonathan to tell him she was going to the Yates residence that evening. Remembering the BJ Building was across the street from the TV station, she decided to go there directly for a meal and to discuss her plans.

Cynthia didn't use the exclusive elevator in the underground parking but entered through the main entrance. She intended to sneak in unnoticed, but the guards recognized her immediately.

"Hello, Ms. Jones," one said.

"Ms. Jones, please come in," another chimed.

Everyone she met greeted her warmly. "Good afternoon, Ms. Jones," "Hello, Ms. Jones," "Hi, Ms. Jones."

Cynthia was surprised. Even though she was a well-known host, this was unusual. She'd been to the BJ Building before, but no one had recognized her then.

Perhaps it was the trending topic from last night. Although she and Jonathan were featured, only her name had appeared, not her photo. Most media photos were of Burning Rose.

Cynthia wondered, "What's going on?"

She understood after a few more steps. A huge LED screen in the lobby displayed photos—all of her. There were photos of her and Jonathan from the previous night, but mostly private photos: watering flowers, sitting on a rattan chair, even sleeping. All artistically pleasing, taken secretly by Jonathan at Greenfield Villa. Cynthia had no idea he'd taken so many pictures over the past three years.