BRUSHSTROKES OF REVENGE

A week later, the arrival hall of Greendale International Airport buzzed with its usual rhythm. Businessmen hurried toward waiting chauffeurs, their polished shoes clicking against the marble floor, while tourists dragged oversized suitcases behind them, their laughter mingling with the echo of flight announcements.

The air smelled faintly of coffee and jet fuel, a familiar blend that marked the city’s constant motion.

Among the sea of travellers, one woman stepped through the automatic glass doors, her presence quiet yet commanding.

She wore a simple ivory blouse tucked neatly into high-waisted black trousers, paired with white sneakers and a beige trench coat that rested casually over her shoulders.

Oversized sunglasses covered half her face, and her long raven-black hair cascaded elegantly down her back.

She wasn’t dressed extravagantly, yet almost everyone who passed her turned for a second look. Some women admired her effortless elegance. Some men found themselves staring a little longer than they intended.

Confidence.

It truly changed a person’s aura.

Six months ago, Mindy Hawthorne would have lowered her head while walking through a crowd, her shoulders drawn inward as if apologizing for taking up space. Today, her back was straight, her steps light, her movements unhurried.

Every gesture carried quiet assurance. It wasn’t the confidence of someone trying to prove herself—it was the calm certainty of someone who finally understood her own worth.

The corners of her lips curved upward as she removed her sunglasses. The familiar skyline stretched before her, the city that had once been both her battlefield and her cage.

Greendale.

”I’m back.”

Not as the obedient Mrs. Knight. Not as the forgotten Hawthorne daughter. And certainly not as the woman who had spent ten years begging for affection.

This time, she had returned as herself.

”MINNYYYYYY!”

The shrill, unmistakable voice cut through the noise of the terminal. Before Mindy could even turn, a blur of color and energy barreled toward her like an excited puppy.

”Bam!”

Two arms wrapped around her tightly.

”You heartless woman!” Ana Bose’s dramatic voice trembled with mock tears. ”Six whole months! Do you know how miserable your best friend has been? I almost forgot what your face looked like!”

Mindy burst into laughter, her voice light and melodic. ”You literally video-called me every single day.”

Ana released her, placing both hands on her hips with exaggerated indignation. ”That is completely different.”

Her sharp eyes swept over Mindy from head to toe before she let out a low whistle. ”Damn. Who are you trying to kill looking like this?”

Mindy rolled her eyes.

Ana ignored her completely, circling her like an art critic inspecting a priceless painting. ”You lost weight. You look healthier. And...” she narrowed her eyes suspiciously, ”...you’re glowing.”

Mindy blinked innocently. ”Is that illegal?”

”It should be!” Ana groaned. ”I spent an hour doing my makeup today, and you’re out here looking like a movie star wearing almost nothing!”

Mindy laughed so hard her shoulders shook. She had missed this—missed Ana’s dramatic flair, her unfiltered honesty, her ability to make her laugh within seconds. There was no judgment here. No pity. No hidden intentions.

Just genuine friendship.

Ana suddenly grabbed both of Mindy’s cheeks, squishing them together. ”Smile again.”

”What?” Mindy frowned, confused.

”Smile,” Ana repeated firmly.

Mindy hesitated, then smiled.

Ana froze. Her teasing expression softened, her eyes glistening slightly. ”There she is.”

”There who is?”

”My best friend,” Ana said quietly. ”The real one.” She gently poked Mindy’s forehead. ”For years your smile looked... forced. You smiled because you wanted Layton to smile. You laughed because everyone else laughed. But this...” Her voice trembled slightly. ”This smile belongs to you.”

For a brief moment, neither of them spoke. The noise of the airport faded into the background.

Mindy suddenly pulled Ana into a tight hug. ”Thank you.”

Ana blinked. ”For what?”

”For never giving up on me.”

Ana snorted, though her voice softened. ”As if I’d abandon you. I’ve been waiting years for you to wake up.” She leaned closer, lowering her voice dramatically. ”Congratulations. You’ve officially graduated from the School of Stupid Love.”

Mindy smacked her arm.

”Ouch!” Ana yelped, then laughed. ”See? Now you’re even hitting people. I love this version.”

They walked toward the bright orange Lamborghini parked near the entrance. Ana tossed Mindy’s suitcase into the trunk before sliding into the driver’s seat.

The engine roared to life, its sound turning heads as they pulled away from the curb.

Greendale’s skyline unfolded before them—glass towers glinting under the afternoon sun, traffic weaving through the streets like restless veins.

For the next thirty minutes, Ana filled the car with her usual chatter, updating Mindy on everything that had happened in her absence.

”Missy has practically been living inside Rona Design preparing for the National Design Competition,” Ana said, her tone dripping with disdain.

”Emily’s acting like she’s already won. The Hawthorne family’s been unusually quiet lately. Oh—and Layton...” She glanced sideways. ”He buried himself in work.”

Mindy looked out the window, her reflection faintly visible in the glass. The passing scenery flickered across her eyes, but her expression didn’t change.

Ana watched her carefully. Nothing. Not even the slightest flicker of emotion.

Six months ago, simply hearing Layton’s name would have ruined her mood for the entire day. Now, she looked as calm as if Ana had mentioned the weather.

Ana smiled to herself.

Good.

Very good.

She preferred this version much more.

The Lamborghini slowed before an enormous wrought-iron gate. Behind it stood one of Greendale’s most luxurious private estates—Royal Estate.

Unlike the flashy mansions owned by businessmen desperate to display their wealth, this property carried quiet elegance.

The architecture blended modern design with European influences: white marble pillars, massive French windows, and a tranquil fountain surrounded by manicured gardens. Tall trees lined the driveway, their leaves whispering softly in the breeze.

Despite being located in the city’s wealthiest district, the estate felt peaceful, almost secluded.

The gates opened automatically, and the car rolled inside. Mindy stepped out, her heels clicking lightly against the stone driveway. She tilted her head back, taking in the sight of the house.

She hadn’t lived here before her rebirth.

Emma had purchased the estate years ago, insisting that every granddaughter deserved a place she could always call home.

Back then, Mindy had rarely visited. She had insisted on living in the Knight Penthouse, believing that a wife should stay beside her husband.

Thinking about it now, she almost laughed.

She had ignored the home where people truly loved her, just to stay in a house where she wasn’t even treated like family.

The front door opened, and two middle-aged women hurried outside. ”Miss Wilson!” they greeted in unison, bowing respectfully. ”Welcome home.”

Mindy smiled warmly. ”It’s good to be back.”

Emma had personally hired every employee working inside the estate. Loyalty mattered more than experience.

These people had served the Wilson family for years, some even decades. Unlike the servants at Knight Penthouse, no one here looked at her with sympathy.

No one pitied her.

No one secretly mocked her.

They genuinely welcomed her home.

After unpacking, Mindy took a long shower. Warm water washed away the exhaustion of travel, easing the tension from her shoulders.

Nearly an hour later, she stepped out wearing a silk bathrobe, drying her hair with a towel. The room overlooked the estate’s private garden, where birds chirped softly among the trees. The peaceful atmosphere calmed her naturally.

For several minutes, she simply stood beside the window, watching the sunlight fade into dusk.

By evening, her phone began buzzing relentlessly. Ana’s name flashed across the screen, followed by a flood of messages.

Ana:

Hurry up!

I’m starving!

I booked the VIP room!

Tonight we’re celebrating your freedom!

Wear something that makes every woman jealous!

Mindy laughed softly as she read the messages.

She walked toward her wardrobe, which Emma had filled to the brim.

Designer gowns, elegant dresses, business suits, and casual outfits—all carefully chosen to match her taste.

After a moment of thought, she selected a sleeveless crimson dress that hugged her figure perfectly.

The color made her pale skin glow under the soft light. She loosely curled her long hair and applied minimal makeup, just enough to highlight her natural features.

When she finally descended the staircase, even the housekeeper couldn’t help smiling. ”Our young miss looks absolutely stunning,” she said warmly.

Mindy smiled politely. ”Thank you.”

Twenty minutes later, Ana’s Lamborghini purred outside the gate. The moment Mindy stepped out, Ana dramatically clutched her chest. ”Oh my God. I’m suddenly questioning my sexuality.”

Mindy burst into laughter. ”Ana!”

”What?” Ana shrugged shamelessly. ”If I looked like you, I’d stare at myself in the mirror twenty-four hours a day.”

”You already do.”

”That’s true.”

Both women laughed uncontrollably before climbing into the car. Their destination tonight was the Nightingale Club—one of the most exclusive private clubs in Greendale.

Only members of the upper class were allowed inside. Luxury cars filled the parking lot, and the faint pulse of music vibrated through the air.

The moment they stepped through the entrance, conversations around them slowed. Heads turned instinctively.

The elegant woman in the red dress drew countless gazes. Some men openly admired her. Some women secretly envied her confidence.

Ana linked arms with Mindy, ignoring every curious stare as she led her toward the main bar. ”Two cocktails!” she called out. The bartender nodded immediately.

Ana raised her glass. ”To freedom.”

Mindy clinked her glass lightly. ”To freedom.”

They both took a sip. The drink was crisp and cold, the taste of liberation lingering on her tongue.

Ana leaned closer, lowering her voice conspiratorially. ”I’ve already reserved a private room upstairs.”

”Good,” Mindy said, amused.

Ana’s grin turned mischievous. ”I was thinking... we should order a few handsome men.”

Mindy nearly choked on her drink. ”Cough—Ana!”

”What?” Ana looked completely innocent.

”We’re both single. We’re young. We’re rich. We’re beautiful. I fail to see the problem.”

Mindy wiped the corner of her lips, laughing helplessly. ”You are unbelievable.”

”I know.” Ana flipped her hair proudly. ”I’ve already done the research. They have six extremely handsome hosts. We’ll choose the prettiest ones. They’ll pour us drinks while we laugh at your ex-husband.”

Mindy laughed so loudly that nearby customers turned to look. ”I swear, you’ve become even crazier.”

Ana raised her chin proudly. ”I’ve been waiting six months for tonight. We’re celebrating properly. You wasted enough tears. Now it’s someone else’s turn.”

Neither of them noticed the eyes watching from above.

On the mezzanine floor overlooking the club, several familiar faces had already spotted them.

Sheila was chatting animatedly with Harper, Zara, and Rain when her gaze drifted downward. She froze mid-sentence. ”Missy,” she whispered.

Missy looked up lazily. ”What?”

”I think...” Sheila pointed toward the bar. ”...your sister is here.”

Missy frowned, following her finger. The moment her eyes landed on the woman in the crimson dress, her smile froze. For several long seconds, she simply stared.

It couldn’t be.

That woman—radiating confidence, laughing so freely—could actually be Mindy?

A strange feeling twisted inside her chest.

Jealousy.

At the same time, on the opposite side of the club, Layton Knight sat quietly inside the VIP lounge with Drake Hawthorne, Jagger Hawthorne, Draven Mole, and several business associates.

Their discussion about an upcoming acquisition had nearly concluded when Draven casually reached for his whiskey.

His gaze drifted toward the bar below, and his eyebrows lifted slightly. ”Huh.”

Jagger looked over. ”What?”

Draven pointed discreetly. ”Layton, I think your ex-wife is here.”

The conversation stopped.

Layton slowly followed Draven’s gaze. His dark eyes settled on the woman standing beside Ana.

For a moment, he didn’t recognize her. The woman laughing openly, her smile reaching her eyes, looked nothing like the quiet, obedient wife he remembered.

Then she turned slightly, and the familiar profile appeared beneath the lights.

Layton’s fingers tightened around his glass.

It really was Mindy.

Silence settled over the entire table. Even Drake and Jagger found themselves staring. They had never seen her smile like that. Not in years.

Downstairs, completely unaware that half the club had begun watching her, Ana suddenly grabbed Mindy’s wrist. ”The DJ finally played our song!”

Before Mindy could react, Ana dragged her toward the crowded dance floor. The colorful lights flashed across the room, laughter echoing through the air.

Mindy laughed helplessly, allowing herself to be pulled into the center of the crowd.

For the first time in what felt like forever, she danced.

Not to impress anyone.

Not to please anyone.

But simply because she wanted to.

And somewhere above, more than one pair of eyes quietly followed her every movement.