BRUSHSTROKES OF REVENGE

[”Contains scenes of violence and kidnapping”]

Emily’s voice slid through the speaker, smooth and satisfied. ”Let’s tell her what she’s lost, shall we?”

Mindy’s breath caught.

Emily leaned closer to the camera. ”I have what your mother had—her husband, her family, her Starlight, her Rona Design. And her daughter will face a fate worse than death.”

Mindy shook her head, tears spilling. ”You’re lying.”

Missy’s laughter was soft and cruel. ”Am I?”

The screen shifted. Chandeliers glittered above a ballroom filled with guests. Music swelled. Waiters carried champagne. Missy’s face filled the frame again, her smile bright enough to hurt.

”We’re celebrating,” she said. ”Layton and I are getting married. Today was our engagement.”

She lifted her hand. The diamond ring caught the light, scattering it across the lens.

Mindy’s stomach twisted. ”No...”

Missy swiped the screen. Photos appeared—Layton and Missy cutting a cake, dancing, smiling for cameras. Another image showed a news headline: Knight Enterprises and Hawthorne Group Unite Through Engagement of Layton Knight and Missy Hawthorne.

In the background of the pictures, Raymond stood behind Missy, his expression soft with pride. Drake and Jagger flanked him, glasses raised. Emily stood beside them, serene and satisfied.

They were all smiling.

None of them knew Missy and Emily had stepped away from the party to make this call.

Mindy stared at the screen, her pulse roaring in her ears. She had imagined them searching, praying, waiting for news. Instead, they were celebrating.

Her knees gave out. She sank to the floor, the phone slipping from her hands.

”Why?” Her voice cracked. ”You have everything! Why destroy me? You already took my husband, my brothers, my father, my mother’s companies—why?”

Missy’s smile widened. ”Because everything that was yours should have been mine. You had the perfect face, the perfect life. Everyone loved you. Why? What about me? So I took everything.”

Mindy’s tears blurred the screen. ”They chose you... they all chose you over me... and you planned it?”

”Of course,” Missy said. ”I made sure they would. I’ve been planning this for years.”

Emily’s voice slid in again, calm and venomous. ”Your mother took everything from me. Now I’ve taken everything from her daughter.”

Missy leaned closer. ”You’ll never see them again. They don’t care about you. Not one of them even asked where you were. Enjoy the rest of your life, Mindy. No one will miss you.”

The call ended.

The room was silent except for the hum of the bulb.

The kidnapper pocketed the phone. ”No need to cry,” he said. ”Your buyer will come soon. Behave like the others.”

The door closed. The footsteps finally faded.

Mindy pressed her hands to her face. The tears came soundlessly at first, then a scream tore from her throat—raw, guttural, broken. Her body shook violently, her hands clawing at her hair, her chest heaving with sobs that wouldn’t stop.

All the hope she had been holding on to came crashing down like shattered glass.

She cried. She didn’t know how long. Minutes? Hours? Time had no meaning anymore.

Her voice cracked as she screamed into the empty room, her throat burning, her vision blurred. Every breath felt like drowning. Every heartbeat felt like betrayal.

She lifted her head, gasping for air. The tears had dried into salt on her cheeks, leaving streaks through the dirt and blood.

The mirror on the wall caught her reflection.

A stranger stared back.

Her face was swollen, bruised, streaked with dirt. The white dress she had worn the night of the kidnapping hung in tatters, stained with blood and grime.

She touched the glass. ”They chose her,” she whispered. ”They’re celebrating.”

Her lips curved into a broken smile.

”No. I’d rather die than be sold like cattle.”

She stood there, staring at her reflection, her chest rising and falling. The drugs still clouded her mind, her limbs heavy and weak. But something shifted inside her—a spark, small but fierce.

No.

Her jaw clenched. Her fists tightened.

No one is coming.

She accepted it. The truth settled into her bones like ice.

If no one is coming, then I will fight.

Her eyes hardened. Her breathing steadied.

”I will not die like this.”

She searched the room—nothing but a cot, a chair, a mirror. Desperation clawed at her chest. She slammed her elbow into the mirror. It shattered, shards scattering across the floor. One sliced her leg; she didn’t feel it.

She picked up a large piece, gripping it until her palm bled. The pain was distant, meaningless.

She hid behind the door and waited.

The lock clicked.

A heavy man stepped inside, humming, his eyes sweeping the room.

Mindy moved.

The shard flashed once, twice. He screamed, stumbling backward. She ran.

The corridor stretched ahead, dim and endless. Doors lined both sides; behind them came muffled cries. She wanted to stop, to help, but the sound of boots thundered behind her.

She ran faster. Blood from her leg left a trail on the concrete.

Voices shouted. More footsteps.

She turned a corner, found a stairwell, climbed. The air grew colder. She could hear men coming from below and above.

She pushed through a final door—and burst onto the roof.

Rain lashed her face. The city below was a blur of lights.

She looked around frantically, her vision swimming. Her eyes landed on a metal rod lying near the edge of the roof—rusted, heavy, solid.

She grabbed it, her hands trembling but her grip firm.

The door behind her burst open.

Five men entered, their faces twisted with anger. One of them—tall, scarred, his voice rough—sneered at her. ”Stop fighting. There’s nowhere to go. Be a good girl like the others and go to your room.”

The others laughed, their voices cruel and mocking.

Mindy’s lips curled into a sneer, her eyes blazing. ”Come closer and I’ll beat you to death.”

The scarred man grinned and stepped forward, confident, dismissive.

She swung the rod with everything she had. It connected with his head with a sickening crack. He fell backward, collapsing onto the wet concrete.

The others lunged.

She swung again, hitting one across the face. He staggered, blood pouring from his nose. She kicked another in the stomach, sending him sprawling.

Then the man she had hit in the face staggered upright, his hand reaching into his jacket. He pulled out a gun and pointed it at her, his hand shaking with rage.

”You bitch!” he spat, his voice furious.

Mindy staggered slightly, her legs weak, her vision blurring. Then someone kicked her from behind. She stumbled forward but didn’t lose her grip on the rod.

She turned, her eyes wild, her voice hoarse but defiant. ”Come on! I’ll kill each one of you!”

She lunged at the nearest man, swinging the rod like a weapon. He dodged, but she caught him on the shoulder.

Then—

BANG.

The gunshot echoed across the rooftop.

Mindy froze. Her eyes widened in shock.

Warmth spread across her chest—slow, then fast. She looked down. Blood bloomed across the white fabric of her dress, dark and spreading.

She staggered backward, her breath catching.

The men advanced. She swung the rod again, weaker this time, but still fighting. They were near the edge now, where the railing had broken during the struggle.

She staggered again, her legs giving out. The rod was still gripped tightly in her hand, her knuckles white.

Then she heard it—the sound of helicopter blades cutting through the storm.

She looked up, her vision fading. A helicopter had just landed on the far side of the roof. Someone stepped out, running toward her, their figure blurred by rain and darkness.

She didn’t know who it was.

Her body felt so tired. So heavy.

Then she heard it—a voice, distant and desperate, calling her name.

But who?

She couldn’t tell.

Her legs buckled. The edge of the roof gave way beneath her.

And she fell.

Twenty stories down.

For a heartbeat she was weightless. The wind tore at her hair, the rain stung her skin. The city lights spun below like shattered stars.

Her last thoughts were of her mother’s smile, of the voices that had chosen someone else, of the promise she had just made.

Then everything went dark.

The rain kept falling, washing the blood from the rooftop, washing away the last trace of the girl they had all chosen to forget.