BRUSHSTROKES OF REVENGE

Mindy Wilson had never eaten breakfast so slowly in her life. The soup was still warm, the toast perfectly crisp, and the sunlight spilling through the penthouse windows looked deceptively peaceful. She swallowed her medicine with a sip of water and set the glass down with quiet finality.

She would never neglect herself again. Not her health, not her heart, not her dignity.

Fifteen minutes later, the sound of screeching tires shattered the calm.

Mindy’s head turned toward the window. She moved carefully, one hand pressed against her stomach, and peered through the glass. A sleek white car had pulled up in front of the building. The license plate gleamed in the morning light.

Missy Hawthorne.

Mindy’s lips curved into a slow, dangerous smile. ”That was fast,” she murmured.

She straightened, adjusted the loose hospital gown, and began walking toward the stairs. Every step was deliberate, steady. She wasn’t going to miss this.

Layton Knight sat on the sofa in the living area, elbows on his knees, hands tangled in his hair. The untouched breakfast tray sat on the coffee table. His expression was unreadable—somewhere between guilt and exhaustion.

He had spent the last hour replaying every word Mindy had said to him. Every accusation, every truth he couldn’t deny. The silence of the penthouse pressed down on him, heavy and suffocating.

He didn’t even look up when the door opened.

”Layton!”

The voice was sweet, too sweet.

He lifted his head slowly. Missy stood in the doorway, dressed in a pale pink dress, her hair perfectly curled, her expression a practiced blend of concern and affection.

”I called you,” she said, pouting slightly. ”You didn’t pick up.”

Layton’s brows furrowed. ”What are you doing here?”

Missy blinked innocently. ”Can’t I come here?”

He frowned deeper. ”How did you get in? How do you know the door password?”

Missy tilted her head, confused. ”Layton, the password is my birth date. Why wouldn’t I remember it?”

The words hit him like a slap.

She smiled, oblivious to the storm gathering in his eyes. ”You know, right? You bought this house after our engagement. Of course, you used my birthday. You said it was lucky.”

Layton froze.

The air in the room shifted.

From the staircase, Mindy watched the scene unfold. She had stopped halfway down, her hand resting lightly on the railing.

She had lived with that password for two years. Missy’s birthday. Every time she entered this house, she had to type in another woman’s date of birth. Every single day, a reminder that this place had never been meant for her.

She had known from the beginning that the penthouse was built for Missy and Layton. After their engagement broke and Layton married her instead, nothing changed. Not the password, not the décor, not the memories.

It had hurt—God, it had hurt—for two years. But now, watching Layton’s face go pale as Missy casually revealed it in front of her, watching him realize that she had heard, that she had always known, was strangely satisfying.

Not because she had discovered anything new.

Because he was finally embarrassed.

Missy’s voice floated up, syrupy and smug.

Mindy sat down on the step, crossing one leg over the other, and smirked.

Layton’s face had gone pale. He looked up, as if sensing her gaze, and their eyes met.

Mindy smiled, slow and sharp.

He looked away first.

Missy followed his line of sight and spotted Mindy sitting on the stairs. Her expression faltered for a split second before she pasted on her sweetest smile.

”Oh, Sister,” she said, voice dripping with false concern. ”What are you doing here? You should be resting in the hospital.”

Mindy tilted her head. ”You know, Layton and I are still married,” she said lightly. ”And you’re asking the wife what she’s doing in her own house?”

Missy blinked, her smile stiffening.

”If anyone else heard you,” Mindy continued, ”they might think you’re the wife and I’m the one interfering in your marriage.”

The color drained from Missy’s face.

Mindy’s smirk widened. ”To answer your question, why don’t you ask your boyfriend why he kidnapped me from the hospital? You should really put a leash on him.”

Layton’s jaw tightened. ”Missy,” he said, his voice low, ”why are you here?”

Missy ignored him, turning back to Mindy. ”Why did you bring her here?” she demanded. ”She should be resting in the hospital!”

Layton’s tone turned cold. ”I didn’t kidnap her. She’s my wife. I brought her home.”

Missy’s eyes widened. ”Layton—”

The sound of screeching tires cut her off.

A minute later, the front door burst open.

Matthias King stepped inside, his silver mask catching the light. His eyes scanned the room once, then stopped on Mindy sitting on the stairs.

Relief flickered across his face.

Ana Bose stumbled in behind him, hair disheveled, breathing hard. She collapsed onto the nearest chair, muttering something about ”lunatic drivers.”

Matthias ignored everyone else. He crossed the room in long strides and stopped in front of Mindy.

”Are you alright?” he asked, his voice low but urgent.

Mindy smiled up at him. ”Perfect.”

Layton stood abruptly. ”What are you doing here?” he demanded. His gaze flicked to Mindy. ”Did you call him?”

Mindy’s smile turned razor-sharp. ”Of course I did. Did you really think I’d stay here with you?”

Matthias didn’t even glance at Layton. He reached out, offering his hand to Mindy. She took it, and he helped her to her feet, steadying her carefully as she descended the stairs.

Ana watched them with a small, satisfied smile.

Layton stepped forward, blocking their path. ”She isn’t going anywhere with you.”

Matthias’s eyes turned cold behind the mask. ”Back off,” he said quietly. ”Can’t you see she’s hurt? You dragged her here when she should be in a hospital.”

Mindy had never seen that look on Matthias’s face before—controlled fury, sharp enough to cut glass.

Layton’s voice dropped to a growl. ”She’s my wife. She stays here.”

Mindy rolled her eyes. ”Here we go again.”

Missy, sensing the tension, slipped closer and clutched Layton’s arm. ”Layton, let her go,” she said softly. ”She needs to be in the hospital.”

Mindy snorted. ”Listen to your sweetheart, President Knight. She might start crying if you keep this up.”

Ana laughed under her breath.

Missy’s voice trembled. ”Layton, please. Let them go.”

”Shut up!”

The words exploded out of him before he could stop them.

The room went silent.

Missy froze, eyes wide. Layton had never raised his voice at her. Not once.

Her lower lip trembled. Real tears welled in her eyes.

Ana let out a short, incredulous laugh. ”Well, that’s new.”

Mindy didn’t bother hiding her amusement. She turned to Ana. ”Let’s go.”

Ana nodded, slipping an arm around her for support. Together, they started toward the door.

”Mindy, stop!”

Layton’s voice cracked through the air.

She turned, her expression cold. ”Layton, stop it. I don’t want to stay here. Why can’t you get that through your head?”

He took a step forward, but she didn’t flinch.

”I don’t care anymore,” she said, her voice rising. ”I hate this house. I hate everything about it.”

Her voice wavered, the old pain surfacing. ”Did you even think how I would feel? To live in a house that was meant for another? And you didn’t even have the courtesy to change the password.”

Layton’s face went rigid.

”Every single day for two years,” she continued, her tone trembling with fury, ”I had to type in her birthday to enter my own home. I hated it. But I could never tell you.”

Her eyes met his, cold and steady. ”Because you never listened.”

Ana gasped audibly. ”Wait—what?”

Matthias’s head snapped toward Mindy, his expression darkening behind the mask.

Ana’s voice rose, shaking with disbelief. ”The password was her birthday? For two years?” She turned to Layton, fury blazing. ”You made her live like that?”

Matthias’s voice was low, cold as steel. ”You made her type another woman’s birthday to enter her own home.” It wasn’t a question. It was an accusation.

Ana muttered, ”Unbelievable. Absolutely unbelievable.”

The silence that followed was deafening.

Then her voice hardened again. ”I hate you.”

The words hit him harder than any slap.

She turned away. Matthias and Ana guided her toward the door. Matthias paused just long enough to give Layton a look so cold it could have frozen fire.

Layton stood rooted to the spot, shock written across his face.

He finally understood.

She didn’t love him anymore.

Missy’s quiet sobs filled the silence.

Outside, the morning air was crisp and bright. Mindy inhaled deeply, feeling the weight of the penthouse lift off her shoulders.

Ana broke the silence first. ”Well,” she said cheerfully, ”that was fun. No wonder you were so calm.”

Mindy smiled faintly. ”I told you I had a plan.”

Ana tilted her head. ”How did Missy even know you were there?”

Mindy’s smirk returned. ”I messaged her. Told her her boyfriend had kidnapped me and brought me to the penthouse.”

Ana burst out laughing. ”You didn’t!”

”I did.”

Matthias, standing beside the car, glanced at Mindy and shook his head, a reluctant smile tugging at his lips. He opened the car door for her.

Ana was still laughing as she followed. ”You’re evil. I love it.”

Mindy eased into the back seat, careful of her stitches. Matthias closed the door gently, then walked around to the driver’s side.

”Wait!” Ana shouted. ”I’m driving this time. Give me the keys.”

Matthias frowned. ”Ana—”

”No arguments,” she said, snatching the keys from his hand. ”Mindy, you don’t know how terrified I was. He was driving like a maniac. It was supposed to take forty-five minutes to get here. He did it in twenty.”

Mindy turned her head toward Matthias, eyebrows raised.

He looked away, embarrassed.

Ana slid into the driver’s seat, grinning. ”Buckle up, everyone. I promise not to kill us.”

Mindy chuckled softly. ”Thank you, Matthias,” she said quietly.

He met her gaze for a moment, then nodded. ”Always.”

He climbed into the passenger seat.

As the car pulled away from the Knight Penthouse, Mindy looked out the window. The building grew smaller in the distance, its glass walls gleaming in the sunlight.

Ana hummed along to the radio, Matthias stared straight ahead, and Mindy leaned back against the seat, closing her eyes.

Behind them, Layton Knight stood at the window of the penthouse, watching the car disappear down the street. Missy sat on the sofa, crying softly, her perfect world cracking at the edges.

Inside the car, Mindy smiled faintly.