The music inside the Nightingale Club shifted from soft jazz to an upbeat rhythm that sent a ripple of excitement through the crowd. Cheers erupted from every corner as the lights dimmed and colorful beams swept across the dance floor.
The air pulsed with bass, laughter, and the faint scent of expensive perfume.
Before Mindy could even think about retreating to the safety of her cocktail, Ana grabbed both of her hands and yanked her straight into the center of the crowd.
"Oh, no you don’t!" Ana laughed, spinning her around with the enthusiasm of a woman possessed. "You’ve spent enough years acting like a respectable Mrs. Knight. Tonight, you’re just Mindy!"
"I wasn’t going to run away," Mindy protested, though her tone lacked conviction.
"Liar."
"I wasn’t."
"You were thinking about it."
"...Maybe."
Ana burst into laughter, twirling her again until Mindy’s crimson dress flared like a flame. The two women quickly became the center of attention.
Ana had always been an excellent dancer. Years of ballroom, salsa, and contemporary lessons had turned her into a graceful menace.
Every movement she made looked effortless, like she’d been born with rhythm in her veins and drama in her DNA.
Mindy wasn’t far behind. Art had always been her first language. Whether it was painting, music, sculpture, or dance, she believed every form of art carried emotion. So instead of performing complicated choreography, she simply let herself move with the music.
Free.
Graceful.
Alive.
Her crimson dress flowed beautifully with every turn, catching the light like liquid fire. Her long black hair danced around her shoulders, brushing against her glowing skin.
Most importantly—she was smiling.
Not the polite smile people expected from wealthy daughters. Not the forced smile she wore beside Layton during countless galas. This smile reached her eyes. It was bright. Warm. Real.
The entire dance floor seemed to revolve around the two of them. People stopped mid-step just to watch. A few women whispered to each other, trying to figure out who they were. A few men forgot they had dates.
Ana, of course, noticed immediately. "Oh, look at that," she said, spinning Mindy again. "We’ve caused a traffic jam. Half the men here just forgot how to breathe."
Mindy laughed. "You’re imagining things."
"Please," Ana scoffed. "I’ve seen less chaos at a royal wedding. If one more man trips over his own feet, I’m calling security."
Mindy shook her head, still laughing. "You’re ridiculous."
As if on cue, a handsome man in a tailored navy suit approached, smiling politely. "Miss..." he began.
Before he could finish, Ana stretched out one hand dramatically, palm out like a traffic cop. "Stop."
The man blinked, startled.
Ana narrowed her eyes. "My best friend has been single for exactly..." She looked at her watch with exaggerated seriousness. "...6 months and one week. She is currently under my protection."
The surrounding crowd burst into laughter. Even the man chuckled. "I wasn’t trying to flirt," he said, amused. "I only wanted to ask if the two of you are professional dancers."
Mindy smiled apologetically. "I’m afraid not."
"That’s a shame," he said, nodding respectfully. "I’ve never seen anyone dance with this much freedom."
He excused himself politely and disappeared into the crowd.
Ana nudged Mindy with her elbow. "See?"
"What?"
"You’ve still got it."
"I never lost anything."
Ana grinned mischievously. "Exactly. You only lost one emotionally constipated CEO."
Mindy laughed she nearly stumbled. "Stop!"
"I can’t," Ana said between giggles. "I’m too happy. You have no idea how long I’ve waited to see you like this again."
For six months, Ana had dreamed about this version of Mindy—the one who laughed freely, who glowed without trying, who looked alive. Now that it was finally happening, she wasn’t going to waste a single second.
Meanwhile, on the second floor, silence surrounded Layton’s table. No one continued the business discussion. No one even touched their drinks. Every pair of eyes was fixed on the dance floor below.
Draven slowly swirled the whiskey in his glass. "I have to admit," he said quietly, "I didn’t recognize her at first."
Jagger frowned slightly. "...Neither did I."
Drake didn’t speak. His sharp gaze remained on the woman laughing below. Somehow, she looked younger—not because her appearance had changed, but because the exhaustion that had always lingered in her eyes had vanished.
He suddenly realized something. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen his sister laugh like that. Or perhaps he’d simply stopped paying attention.
Layton remained silent. His fingers rested lightly against the crystal glass, his expression unreadable. Yet his eyes never left the dance floor.
The woman downstairs didn’t resemble the wife who used to wait for him every evening.
The woman who carefully adjusted his tie before work.
The woman who reminded him to eat whenever he skipped meals.
The woman who always smiled gently when he returned home.
That version of Mindy seemed incredibly distant now.
His brows furrowed slightly. He found himself wondering—
Which version had been real?
The quiet woman who revolved her entire world around him?
Or the woman dancing freely without even sparing him a glance?
Not far away, Missy’s expression had darkened.
She hadn’t expected Mindy to appear tonight. She certainly hadn’t expected this version of her.
She looked beautiful. Radiant. Confident.
People couldn’t stop looking at her.
It irritated Missy more than she wanted to admit.
She had spent years pushing Mindy into the shadows—making sure she dressed plainly, avoided public events, and stayed invisible.
She’d made sure everyone believed Mindy was nothing more than an insecure, jealous woman.
So why was everyone looking at her now?
Sheila clicked her tongue. "I never noticed your sister was this pretty."
Harper nodded. "Honestly, if I didn’t know who she was, I would’ve assumed she was some celebrity."
Rain laughed softly. "She’s definitely getting attention tonight."
Those casual compliments landed like needles in Missy’s chest. Her fingernails dug into her palm.
No.
She refused to let Mindy become the center of attention. Not here. Not anywhere.
She slowly stood. "I’m going downstairs."
Sheila immediately looked up. "Missy..."
"I’m just going to say hello."
Sheila knew that smile. It wasn’t genuine. But she didn’t stop her.
Downstairs, Ana had already ordered another round of cocktails. She raised her glass dramatically. "A toast!"
Mindy smiled. "What are we celebrating this time?"
Ana thought for a moment. "To emotionally unavailable men finally becoming somebody else’s problem."
Mindy laughed. "I’ll drink to that."
They clinked glasses.
Just then, a familiar voice interrupted them. "My... I almost didn’t recognize you."
The cheerful atmosphere cooled slightly. Ana turned around slowly, her smile fading into something dangerously polite.
Missy stood only a few steps away, accompanied by Sheila, Harper, Zara, and Rain. She still wore her usual angelic smile—the kind that fooled almost everyone.
Ana rolled her eyes so hard she nearly gave herself a headache. "Oh wonderful," she muttered. "The circus arrived."
Sheila frowned. "What did you say?"
Ana smiled sweetly. "I said, I smell expensive perfume mixed with fake innocence."
Mindy quietly sipped her drink, not even bothering to look at Missy. That tiny gesture stung more than any insult.
Missy’s smile stiffened. "Sister, I heard you came back. I wanted to welcome you."
Mindy slowly placed her glass on the counter before finally meeting her eyes. There was no hatred. No sadness. Nothing.
Just indifference.
"I’m sorry," she said softly. "Do I know you?"
Silence.
Complete silence.
Missy’s smile nearly cracked.
Sheila immediately stepped forward. "Mindy! What kind of attitude is that? Missy came here to greet you."
Ana folded her arms. "Oh? So if a stranger walks into my house tomorrow, I should start calling her family?"
Harper frowned. "Why are you being so aggressive?"
Ana looked genuinely confused. "Aggressive? I haven’t even started yet."
Several nearby guests chuckled. Everyone in Greendale knew Ana Bose. She wasn’t someone who cared about offending people.
Missy’s expression became increasingly pitiful. "Mindy, are you still angry with me? I’ve already forgiven everything that happened six months ago."
Ana blinked. Then looked at Mindy. Then back at Missy.
Finally, she burst into laughter.
Not polite laughter.
Not restrained laughter.
Full-blown, uncontrollable laughter. She laughed so hard she had to lean against the bar for support.
"Oh my God!" she gasped between laughs. "I’ve interviewed politicians with less confidence than you."
Missy’s face stiffened. "What do you mean?"
Ana grinned. "You forgiving her? My dear, what exactly are you forgiving? The design theft? The years of bullying? The fake crying? The manipulation? Or are we just randomly forgiving people today? Because if so, I’d like to forgive my credit card bill."
The entire area fell silent. Several people quietly exchanged curious glances.
Missy’s expression finally changed. For a brief moment, the sweetness disappeared. Something darker flashed across her eyes before vanishing just as quickly.
"Mindy," she said softly, "I don’t understand why your friend hates me. I’ve always treated you like my own sister."
Ana almost applauded. "What an amazing performance. You should’ve joined the entertainment industry instead of Rona Design. You’d win an award for Best Actress in a Tragic Farce."
Before Missy could respond, Mindy gently touched Ana’s arm. "Ana."
Ana immediately pouted. "What?"
"You promised tonight was about celebrating."
"I know."
"So don’t waste your energy."
Ana sighed dramatically. "Fine." She turned back toward the bartender. "Another two cocktails." Then she looked sideways at Missy. "And one glass of water."
Missy frowned. "For me?"
Ana smiled innocently. "No. For the crocodile tears."
A burst of laughter erupted throughout the bar. Even the bartenders struggled to keep straight faces.
Missy’s cheeks flushed crimson. Never in her life had she been humiliated like this in public. She clenched her fists beneath the table.
This wasn’t over.
Not even close.
From the second floor, Layton had witnessed the entire exchange. His brows knitted together. He had expected Mindy to argue, to lose control, to accuse Missy. Instead, she hadn’t done any of that. She barely spoke. Yet somehow, Missy had become the one left speechless.
Draven leaned back in his chair, swirling his drink. "Hmm."
Layton looked toward him. "What?"
Draven took another sip of whiskey. "I’ve met plenty of liars and plenty of honest people. But tonight..."
He smiled faintly. "I honestly can’t tell which sister I’ve been misjudging all these years."
Layton didn’t answer.
His eyes remained fixed on the woman below. Mindy hadn’t looked at him.
Not once. Not even by accident.
For reasons he couldn’t explain, that bothered him far more than it should have.
Far below, Mindy finished her drink and turned toward Ana with a grin.
"Come on. Our VIP room is waiting."
Ana immediately linked arms with her. "Excellent. I’ve already ordered enough food to bankrupt the chef."
Mindy laughed. "You always do this."
"Do what?"
"Order like you’re feeding an army."
Ana shrugged unapologetically. "If I’m paying, I’m eating. Besides, you never finish your plate anyway."
"That’s because you steal half of it."
"I’m helping you maintain your figure."
Mindy rolled her eyes. "How generous."
Ana grinned. "I know. You’re welcome."
Both women burst into laughter as they walked toward the private elevators. Without a single glance behind them, they disappeared from everyone’s sight—leaving behind a stunned Missy, a thoughtful Draven, two conflicted brothers, and one man who suddenly realized that the woman who used to spend every moment looking at him had finally learned how to walk away.