Except for the plates of delicious food that appeared before her every morning and evening, she couldn't sense a single trace of Liam.
Until five days later, Emma suddenly received a strange phone call. When she answered, confused, it was Daniel's voice on the other end.
Why would he be calling her out of the blue? Emma didn't understand.
"Don't worry, I just want to show you something."
"I'm not interested."
Emma refused Daniel flatly and was about to hang up when his voice drifted through again, slow and deliberate.
"What if it's about your husband?"
There was a mysterious edge to Daniel's tone. Though Emma had no idea what he wanted to show her, she couldn't help but agree to meet him.
They arranged to meet at a café near the New York Fashion Magazine office.
"Alright, what do you want to show me?"
Emma's face was cold as she faced Daniel. His gaze made her deeply uncomfortable.
Daniel looked at the indifferent woman before him, but he didn't get angry. Even when she was angry, she was still so captivating. A charming, almost crazy smile curled at the corner of his mouth as he handed a brown paper bag to Emma without another word.
Emma opened the bag and looked at the pile of photos that spilled out. The color gradually drained from her face.
Every single one was a picture of Liam having dinner with a sexy, alluring woman. The woman had cat-like eyes and a figure that could stop traffic. Although Liam's face was never captured directly, judging by the woman's unusually bright smile, Liam's mood must have been excellent too.
So that's why he barely stayed home anymore? He was seeing another woman outside.
"This is my aunt, who just returned from overseas. You probably don't know this, but your husband personally brought her back. At first, I wondered why he would send someone all the way to the United States to pick her up. Now I understand the answer."
Daniel didn't miss a single expression that flickered across Emma's face. Watching her shift from shock to despair, the smile on his lips deepened.
"I'm afraid you won't believe it. Honestly, I couldn't believe it at first either. But the evidence is right in front of us. We have no choice but to believe it. Emma, you see? Liam is not worth your love at all. He treats you like this. Do you really want to stay with him forever?"
Daniel reached out and took Emma's hand. The warmth of his palm jolted her back to reality. She quickly pulled her hand away, then threw the photos back at him.
"Don't treat me like some naive fool. Even if something is going on between Liam and your aunt, you wouldn't be showing me this unless you had some other agenda. Daniel, you mean nothing to me. It's none of your business what happens between Liam and me."
With that, Emma ignored Daniel completely, stood up, and walked out of the café.
The moment she pushed open the café door, her tears finally fell, uncontrollably. She had thought she could face Liam's "infidelity" with grace. But when she actually saw him laughing and chatting with another woman, she realized her heart was being torn apart.
Daniel sat inside the café, watching through the glass window as the stubborn woman walked away. He could clearly see the collapse happening inside her at that very moment.
It was cruel, but he had to let Emma know the truth.
Hmph. Liam, you chose such a troublesome woman to compete with me for my inheritance. Now it's my turn to strike back.
And your woman? I'll definitely take her for myself.
...
"Editor-in-chief, are you okay?"
Even though Emma had tried to vent her emotions in the company bathroom, her slightly reddened eyes couldn't be hidden in time. Ava noticed something was off.
"I'm fine. The wind was too strong. Some sand got in my eyes."
Emma made up a quick excuse to brush it off.
"Windy? But I can see the sun shining outside."
Ava was about to press further when Madelyn suddenly pulled her aside.
"Can't you see the editor-in-chief is in a bad mood? If she doesn't want to talk about it, don't ask. If you push her, she might get upset. Be careful, or she might cut your year-end bonus."
Madelyn's warning worked like a charm. Ava finally shut up, and Emma was left alone.
For the entire afternoon, Emma couldn't focus. The webpage she had open on her computer hadn't changed at all. Her eyes were staring at the fashion models on the screen, but all she could see was that sexy woman dining with Liam.
So she sat there for hours, until it was almost time to leave. Then, suddenly, she stood up from her desk. Grabbing her Chanel bag, she made a decision.
If she remembered correctly, she had seen the restaurant in those photos before. It was a famous French restaurant in the city center, known for its artistic table settings. She had never been there before.
And Liam had never taken her there.
During rush hour, the traffic crawled like a snail. Emma sat in the taxi, and every time the car moved forward just a little, she felt like she was suffering a little more. She didn't know if Liam would still be having dinner with that woman tonight. She didn't even know what she would do if she actually saw them.
After all, she and Liam were just a fake couple. Did she really want to make a scene like a real wife?
But she couldn't control herself. She felt like she had to see it with her own eyes. She knew it was wrong—she had told Liam that even if he found a girlfriend, she wouldn't interfere. But now, she found it impossible to keep that promise. As for what she would do afterward, she couldn't think that far ahead.
Compared to looking at photos, she had to confirm it herself. What kind of woman did Liam actually like?
When the taxi finally pulled up in front of the French restaurant, Emma spotted the familiar Land Rover parked in the VIP area. A bitter, ironic smile spread across her face. She didn't know if that woman had ever sat in that Land Rover. She didn't dare to think about it. She was afraid that the more she thought, the harder it would be to breathe.
Suddenly, she wanted to back out. She couldn't help but take a few steps backward. But since she was already here, she couldn't run away. Either way, it was a knife—horizontal or vertical. She might as well face it head-on.