Chapter 283

Chapter 283

In the fragrant lounge of the Old Smith Mansion, I calmly showed Violet the divorce agreement and briefly explained that we were already divorced.

Violet held the agreement, staring at it for a long time, her fingers trembling slightly.

She looked up at me, her eyes full of shock.

"Grace, did George do something to wrong you?" Violet's voice shook a little, with cautious probing and suppressed anger. "Tell Grandma the truth. If he's been a bastard, Grandma will teach him a lesson for you!"

Looking at Violet's gray hair and concerned eyes, I felt a pang in my heart.

But in the end, I still shook my head.

"Grandma, no. George and I just ran out of feelings for each other. We're not compatible. Staying together would be torturous.."

I chose the least hurtful explanation: "Separating is better for both of us."

I didn't mention Sarah, didn't mention Jack's true parentage, didn't mention all those dirty schemes and cold hurts.

These things should be discovered and handled by the Smith family themselves.

It wouldn't be appropriate for me, an outsider, to say anything, and there was no need.

Violet looked at my calm but determined eyes, knowing my mind was made up and that I didn't want to say more.

She sighed, didn't press further, just put down the divorce certificate and reached out to gently pull Milly into her arms, her eyes reddening.

"Can Grandma still see Milly in the future?" Violet's voice choked up, full of reluctance.

Milly seemed to sense the sadness of parting. She reached out her little hand and gently patted Violet's back, saying softly, "Great-grandmother, don't cry. I'll miss you."

Watching this scene, I felt terrible inside.

Adult grudges shouldn't involve children, and especially shouldn't involve an elderly person who truly loves the child.

"Grandma, don't worry." I held Violet's other hand and promised gently, "When I have time, I'll bring Milly out to have meals with you and talk with you. You'll always be Milly's great-grandmother."

Coming out of the Old Smith Mansion, I let out a long breath.

My last connection to the Smith family had been settled in a relatively peaceful way.

Next was planning a new future for Milly.

She had recently performed well in several children's math competitions and had long mastered the kindergarten curriculum. Staying there would just be a waste of time.

I consulted professionals, completed all the procedures, and arranged for Milly to skip a grade and go directly to first grade at a well-regarded private elementary school.

On Milly's first day of elementary school, she was so excited that her little face turned red.

When she came home from school, she chattered non-stop: "Mommy, the new teacher is so nice, the classmates are all great, they said I'm smart, and I made new friends!"

Seeing the sparkle in her eyes and her genuine happiness, all my exhaustion and efforts were worth it.

My daughter was breaking free from the shadows of the past, running toward a broader, brighter world.

And I threw myself completely into work.

Mr. Hill's satellite project entered a critical technical breakthrough phase, and the collaboration with Harris Tech was progressing steadily.

I was so busy my feet barely touched the ground. I spent almost all my time in the lab and conference rooms, with no time to pay attention to outside drama.

It was Emily who, during a lunch break, mysteriously came over to my computer and said in a low voice, "Grace, have you seen the news? Instagram is full of big news."

"What news?" I didn't look up, my fingers still typing code on the keyboard.

"Sarah!" Emily's voice couldn't hide her excitement and satisfaction. "Someone exposed her online, saying she's a mistress, and revealed that Jack isn't even a Smith family child—he's her ex-boyfriend's kid! Now Instagram and forums are all talking about it, everyone's cursing her out!"

My fingers stopped typing. I looked up, somewhat surprised.

Sarah being a mistress wasn't news.

But Jack not being George's child? Was this information real?

I opened a browser and searched.

Sure enough, all the major social platforms and financial entertainment sections were flooded with keywords like Sarah being a mistress, Jack's parentage, and George being cheated on.

The person who leaked the information claimed to be the current wife of Sarah's ex-boyfriend. She posted lots of chat records, transfer receipts, and even a blurry screenshot of a paternity test report, pointing directly at Sarah getting pregnant years ago and abandoning her ex-boyfriend for status.

Public opinion was in an uproar.

People who had previously sympathized with or liked Sarah now turned against her, cursing her out.

Even the Smith Group's stock price was affected, starting to fluctuate and drop.

Looking at those shocking headlines and comments on the screen, I felt no satisfaction, only an absurd calmness.

The evil things Sarah had done were finally getting their payback.

I knew George would come looking for me.

Given his suspicious nature, he would definitely suspect I was behind this, pushing things along to get revenge on Sarah.

Sure enough, that afternoon, George showed up downstairs at Star Tech.

He didn't come up, just had the receptionist call me, saying he was waiting in the coffee shop downstairs.

I put down my work and went down.

In a corner of the coffee shop, George sat alone.

He looked more haggard than before, with faint dark circles under his eyes, but his back was still straight. The cold aura around him was even heavier than usual.

I sat down across from him without ordering anything, just looking at him calmly.

George looked up, his gaze falling heavily on my face, sharp as a knife, scrutinizing:

"Did you do this—the stuff online?"

I met his gaze without flinching, my tone calm and clear: "No."

I paused and added, "Although I don't like Sarah and wish she'd stay as far away from Milly and me as possible, using this method to expose someone's privacy, ruin their reputation, and even involve a child—I'm not that low."

George stared at me hard, as if trying to find any trace of lying on my face.

But I looked back at him calmly, my eyes clear, with a clear conscience.

He looked at me for a long time, so long that the background music in the coffee shop changed to another song.

Finally, he seemed to believe me. The tight line of his jaw relaxed slightly, but the gloom and confusion in his eyes didn't fade.

Not him, and not me.

Then who could it be?

Just then, George's phone on the table vibrated urgently.

He glanced at the caller ID, his brow immediately furrowing. It was Violet.

He hesitated, then answered and put it on speaker.

"Grandma." His voice was a bit hoarse.

"George." Violet's voice came through the speaker, full of energy but with barely suppressed anger and disappointment. "You don't need to investigate what's online anymore, and don't blame Grace."

Both George and I were stunned.

"I did it." Violet's voice was firm. "I hired a private investigator. From the moment you suddenly wanted to divorce Grace and insisted on marrying that Sarah, I felt something was wrong. How could the Smith family let a woman of unknown origin into our door?"

Violet got angrier as she spoke: "The results of the investigation—you've seen them. That Sarah has been lying to you from start to finish. That child isn't even a Smith family child at all."

"She schemed to get close to you just for the Smith family's money and power. I exposed this because I don't want you kept in the dark like a fool, embarrassing the Smith family!"

George's fingers gripping the phone suddenly tightened, his knuckles turning white.

His face rapidly turned ashen with each word of Violet's accusation, his lips pressed tight. Those eyes that were always unfathomable now churned with stormy waves.

Shock, humiliation, rage at being fooled, and a deep pain he himself hadn't anticipated.

"Grandma, I..." He tried to say something, but his voice caught.

"You don't need to say anything!" Violet cut him off, her tone decisive. "Break it off completely with that Sarah and that bastard child right now. The Smith family can't afford this embarrassment. As for Grace and Milly, the Smith family has wronged them!"

The call was hung up decisively.

The dial tone was particularly harsh in the quiet corner of the coffee shop.

George maintained his phone-holding position, frozen there like a statue that had instantly lost all vitality.

Sunlight fell on him through the glass window, but couldn't penetrate the thick gloom and coldness in his eyes.

I sat across from him, watching quietly.

My heart had no ripples, only the calm after dust settles, and a very faint sense of relief.

The truth was out.

The wrongdoer finally tasted the bitter fruit.