Chapter 2
Lilian turned pale, anxiety flickering across her face. She quickly apologized, “I’m so sorry, Cynthia! This is all a mistake.”
Lilian’s eyes shimmered with unshed tears, making Cynthia seem like the one who had committed a terrible wrong. This struck Cynthia as quite funny, yet her smile remained warm and bright. “Well, congratulations to you both.”
To everyone watching, Cynthia appeared genuinely happy for them, but she knew the irony. Three years had passed, and she wasn't the same person.
“Cynthia, can I… can I really keep this baby?” Lilian’s voice was hesitant, almost pleading. This hit Filip hard.
“Lilian, let’s not waste time,” Filip said, shooting a fierce glare at Cynthia. “This child is ours, and you don’t need her approval.” Cynthia had only offered congratulations.
Cynthia sneered. “Yeah, we’re family, aren’t we? Back in the day, having a concubine was considered a blessing. Once the baby’s born, they’ll call me ‘Mom,’ right?”
“Cynthia, what nonsense are you talking about?” Filip snapped, furious.
Cynthia laughed. “Oh, come on, I’m just kidding! Grandpa Matthew asked me to pick you up for the Yates residence. Are you coming with me, or staying with her?”
Filip fell silent, then began putting his suitcase in Cynthia’s car trunk. “First, take us to the Betrico Hotel.”
Cynthia nodded and drove them there. After about thirty minutes of hectic activity, Filip settled Lilian. He climbed back into the backseat, maintaining a noticeable distance from her.
As they rejoined city traffic, Cynthia remarked, “If you’re so into her, why let her stay in a hotel? She’s pregnant. Shouldn’t you be treating her better? Getting her a few villas, perhaps?”
“Cynthia, are you saying this on purpose?” Filip’s voice was cold, laced with suppressed frustration.
Cynthia giggled wildly. “Oh, sorry! I just forgot you don’t actually own any property.”
Everyone believed Cynthia was marrying into the Yates family; therefore, all the properties Filip had been given since kindergarten were in her name. This included over a hundred properties, dozens of villas, and countless storefronts. Meanwhile, Filip, the only son of the Yates family, owned only his shares in the family business.
From the moment they got in the car, Filip had been watching Cynthia closely. Her smile was unwavering, but he sensed the resentment simmering beneath it. They had grown up together; no one understood her like he did.
He assumed seeing Lilian pregnant was eating away at Cynthia, prompting her snarky comments. Perhaps she was trying to use the Yates family fortune to get back at him.
Filip shot her a disdainful look. “Cynthia, don’t take it out on Lilian, and don’t think about getting me back. Consider what the Yates family gave you a settlement. But if you expect more, I’ll reclaim the title of Mrs. Yates.”
Cynthia’s expression changed; a serious note crept in. “Filip, let’s get a divorce.” It felt more like a breakup than an end to a marriage.
“Are you threatening me?” Filip’s expression darkened instantly.
Understanding her situation perfectly, he never believed she genuinely wanted a divorce. The Jones family wouldn’t take her back, and she loved him deeply—enough to attempt suicide.
They hadn’t spoken in three years, yet she’d never mentioned divorce until now. The only explanation was that Lilian’s pregnancy had stirred something in her. Maybe she was trying to force him to break things off with Lilian.
“I’m not threatening you; I’ve thought it through,” Cynthia replied softly. “When we first got married, I thought you might change your mind. After you left, I kept the title of Mrs. Yates to compete with Lilian.
“But now it feels pointless. Lilian is pregnant, and the child is innocent. I don’t want to cling to this title if it means holding back your happiness.”
Back then, she was young and impulsive, filled with anger after Filip and Lilian had betrayed her. Marrying Filip was partly influenced by the situation with the Jones family, but more importantly, it was a way to prevent them from living happily ever after.
But three years had changed her perspective, especially since she’d spent them with a handsome lover. She no longer wanted to waste her life in a hollow marriage.
‘Sure enough, she did all this because of Lilian’s pregnancy,’ Filip sneered silently, his cold stare fixed on Cynthia in the rearview mirror. “Cynthia, do you really believe what you’re saying? If it were so easy to understand, why did you try to take your own life back then?”
Cynthia’s eyes dimmed—her struggle with self-harm wasn't solely about Filip. After a moment of silence, she tossed her hair casually, fingers weaving through the strands. Lifting her chin slightly, she returned to her relaxed demeanor. “If you disagree, that’s fine.”
Filip scoffed and looked away from her captivating face. It was infuriating that she initiated the divorce talk, and for a moment, his heart felt squeezed.
‘I thought she genuinely wanted a divorce. Turns out I’ve overestimated her,’ Filip sneered to himself, believing she was testing and pressuring him. This filled him with contempt.
“Cynthia, you’re really a pathetic suck-up,” he said, echoing words from years ago.
Back then, after summer camp, he’d confessed his relationship with Lilian. Cynthia had been stunned, and in a fit of rage, she’d lunged at Lilian and slapped her. Filip had pulled her away, furious enough to break up with her then and there.
“Break up? No way! I will drag you both to hell with me if I have to!” she’d shouted, livid.
That day, Filip had called her “a pathetic suck-up,” and the words had cut deep.
But over time, the pain faded. The past scars were like thick calluses—almost armor. So when he said it again, it didn’t bother her anymore.
They arrived at the Yates residence. Pamela waited at the door. Instead of happiness at seeing her son after three years, her face was dark and menacing.
Upon seeing Filip, she asked sharply, “I heard you brought that little vixen back with you?”
Filip turned to Cynthia immediately, his face icy. She held up her hands innocently. “I didn’t say anything. I didn’t even have a chance to make a call.”