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That afternoon, aside from answering Lawrence's questions regarding the gala preparations, Quinn spent her time sketching new designs upstairs.
Leo was restless in the unfamiliar environment and begged to go outside, so she took him out to the front yard to play on the slide.
Mrs. Hayes strolled out and shot a look at Lydia. "Keep an eye on him. I need a word with my daughter-in-law."
Having no idea what the woman was scheming now, Quinn followed her in apathetic silence until they reached the seclusion of the side garden.
"I'm glad you're back, Quinn."
Mrs. Hayes's expression quickly hardened into a vicious mask. "But I must remind you—you are to keep up this act perfectly in front of Dante and Samuel."
"Not a single word about your divorce is to slip out."
Quinn nodded coolly. "You don't need to worry. I gave you my word for two months. Until that time is up, my lips are sealed."
Even around Dante.
Satisfied with Quinn's promise, Mrs. Hayes couldn't resist twisting the knife with a stern warning.
"I don't know if you genuinely wanted this divorce or if this is all some elaborate mind game to make Dante crawl back to you."
"But hear me clearly: there is no turning back."
"I will never, under any circumstances, allow you two to remarry."
In Mrs. Hayes's eyes, the son she had groomed into perfection deserved someone far better than the illegitimate daughter of a ruined family.
For years, every time she attended high-society luncheons, she had felt painfully inferior, forced to swallow her pride.
Her peers all had brilliant, blue-blooded daughters-in-law. Whenever the topic arose, the other women would throw veiled insults at her, marveling at how a billionaire like Dante had somehow ended up shackled to such a useless nobody, questioning what old Mrs. Hayes could possibly have been thinking.
Over time, Mrs. Hayes grew to view Quinn as an utter embarrassment—a stain on her reputation and an insult to the family name.
Just thinking about it filled her voice with pure venom.



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