The laughter in the private room faded like the last notes of a song. Even the five handsome men who had been entertaining the group sensed the sudden shift in atmosphere. The air, once filled with teasing and music, grew heavy—thick enough to taste.
For the first time since stepping into the club, Mindy wasn’t smiling.
She simply looked at Layton.
There was no anger in her eyes. No heartbreak. No trace of the woman who used to tremble at his silence or chase after his approval.
Only disappointment.
And somehow, that was colder than hatred.
Layton had seen Mindy in every shade of emotion—crying, jealous, stubborn, furious. But this expression was something else entirely. It was quiet, restrained, and devastatingly calm. It made him uneasy in a way he couldn’t explain.
Mindy’s gaze didn’t waver. The dim light from the chandelier caught the faint shimmer of her earrings, but her eyes were steady, unreadable. When she finally spoke, her voice was soft, almost gentle.
"So," she said, "the smartest CEO in Greendale thought this was a good idea?"
Her tone wasn’t mocking. It was worse—disbelieving.
"You wanted to scare me?"
A faint smile curved her lips, but it wasn’t the kind that reached her eyes. It was self-mocking, the kind of smile people wear when they realize how foolish they once were.
"You actually believed I’d appreciate that?" she continued. "You thought threatening me with divorce every time I upset your precious sweetheart was somehow reasonable?"
She let out a quiet laugh, one that carried no humor.
"President Knight," she said softly, "that isn’t love. That’s called manipulation."
The words landed like a slap.
Silence filled the room. Even Ana, who could turn a funeral into a comedy show, didn’t speak.
In her previous life, every time Layton had mentioned divorce, Mindy had panicked. She had cried until her throat burned. She had apologized even when she wasn’t wrong. She had begged him not to leave, promising to change, to be better, to be quieter.
She had twisted herself into someone unrecognizable just to keep him from walking away.
Now, looking back, it was laughable.
No. It was pitiful.
Mindy shook her head slowly, her hair brushing against her shoulders. She thought dying once meant nothing you did could hurt me anymore.
She said quietly. "I was wrong."
She looked straight into his eyes. "This," she said, her voice steady, "is simply disappointing."
Layton’s fingers tightened around the edge of the table. The word disappointing hit harder than any insult could have. It was surgical—precise, cutting straight through his composure.
He had expected anger. He could have handled anger. But disappointment? That was something else entirely.
Mindy’s tone remained calm, almost detached.
"I should never have returned to Greendale after your accident," she said.
"I should never have cared whether you recovered. I should have let you stay exactly as you were."
Her eyes didn’t blink. "Alone."
"I should have left you to rot."
The words were soft, but they struck like hammers.
No one spoke. Even Ana, who had seen Mindy at her lowest, stared at her best friend in stunned silence. She had never heard Mindy sound so ruthless.
Layton’s breathing grew heavier. He wanted to refute her, to tell her she was exaggerating, that she didn’t mean it. But the words wouldn’t come.
For the first time, he wondered if he had truly handled everything wrong. Perhaps threatening her with divorce when she argued with Missy hadn’t been the right solution. Perhaps he had made a mistake so large it couldn’t be undone.
Missy stepped forward, her eyes glistening with perfectly timed tears.
"Sister," she said softly, "if you’re angry, be angry with me. This is all my fault. Please don’t blame Layton."
Drake frowned immediately. "Mindy," he said sternly, "enough. Missy is already apologizing. You don’t need to keep targeting her."
Ana blinked. Then she turned to Drake with the expression of someone who had just discovered a new species of stupidity.
"Amazing," she said.
Everyone turned toward her.
Ana began to clap slowly, dramatically. "Truly amazing," she said. "I’ve finally met people whose brains expired before they were born."
One of the handsome men choked on his drink. "Pfft!"
Ana pointed at Missy. "She interrupts every conversation, cries every five minutes, gets comforted every ten, and somehow—" she turned to Drake, eyes wide with mock wonder "—your conclusion is still that my friend is bullying her?"
She looked genuinely impressed. "I want to study your brain," she said. "It deserves scientific research. Maybe we’ll discover a new species of logic deficiency."
The room erupted into muffled laughter. Even Draven turned away, shoulders shaking as he tried to hide his grin.
Drake’s face darkened. "You—"
Ana waved her hand dismissively. "No, don’t explain. I’m afraid stupidity might be contagious."
Mindy couldn’t help it—she smiled. Only Ana could turn a confrontation into a comedy show.
But the smile faded as she looked back at Layton.
"Let’s stop wasting everyone’s time," she said. "Tomorrow. Nine o’clock. Civil Affairs Bureau. We’ll officially file the divorce."
Her tone was final. "I’ll be there."
Layton’s answer came almost immediately. "No."
Mindy blinked. "No?"
His voice hardened. "I won’t divorce you."
Ana frowned. "You what?"
Jagger spoke up before anyone else could. "Layton," he said, "you already promised you’d marry Missy one day. So just finish the divorce."
All eyes turned toward him. Missy lowered her head shyly, as though the idea embarrassed her.
Exactly. Wasn’t that what everyone had been working toward?
Mindy’s lips curved into a slow, mischievous smile. "You should listen to the toad," she said.
Jagger froze. "Toad?"
Mindy nodded seriously. "Yes. You. The noisy one."
Ana burst into laughter so loud it echoed off the walls. "Oh my God!" she gasped. "The resemblance is actually there! I can’t unsee it now!"
She leaned forward, studying Jagger’s face with exaggerated scrutiny. "The eyes, the puffed cheeks when he’s angry—it’s uncanny. Someone get him a lily pad."
Jagger’s face turned black. "You—"
Ana held up a hand. "Careful, or you’ll croak."
The five male companions completely lost it. One of them nearly fell off his chair laughing.
Mindy continued as though she hadn’t just detonated a bomb of laughter. "President Knight," she said calmly, "don’t keep your precious sweetheart waiting. You should marry her as soon as possible. I’ll even prepare a grand wedding gift."
She turned to Missy, her tone sweet as honey. "What color do you like? White?" She tilted her head thoughtfully. "Oh, maybe red suits mistresses better."
Ana slapped the table. "I vote red!" she declared. "It matches all the red flags!"
The room exploded again. One of the hosts actually wheezed. "Red flags—oh, that’s good," he managed between laughs.
Even Draven’s composure cracked. He covered his mouth, pretending to cough, but his shoulders betrayed him.
Mike, standing near the door, looked up at the ceiling and muttered under his breath, "I don’t get paid enough for this."
Layton’s face grew colder by the second. "No," he said again, his voice low.
Mindy sighed dramatically. "Fine," she said. "You’ve left me with no choice. I’ll personally file for divorce. And while I’m at it, I’ll explain exactly why we’re divorcing."
Her smile was sweet, almost innocent. "I’m sure the media would love reading about a husband who spends millions on another woman while his legal wife never received so much as a single allowance."
She turned to Missy. "Oh, and naturally, everyone will know who the mistress is."
Missy’s face drained of color. "No!" she gasped.
Drake frowned.
Jagger stiffened.
Neither of them wanted that.
If the divorce became public, Missy’s reputation would be destroyed.
Ana leaned back comfortably on the sofa, crossing her legs. "Exactly," she said. "If you choose to audition for the role of Mistress, you should be prepared to accept the reviews."
The laughter returned, sharper this time. Missy’s eyes filled with tears—real or fake, no one could tell anymore.
Layton didn’t move. He just stared at Mindy. She wasn’t threatening him. She was informing him. And somehow, that frightened him more than anything else.
Mindy picked up her handbag. "Tomorrow," she said. "Nine o’clock. Don’t be late, President Knight."
She walked toward the door, her heels clicking against the marble floor. But she stopped beside Missy, her gaze sweeping over her from head to toe.
"You should take your boyfriend home," she said politely. "He seems more interested in bothering me than accompanying you."
Missy’s lips trembled.
Before she could respond, Mindy added thoughtfully, "And one more thing. I honestly can’t tell anymore—are those real tears, or are you just that talented?"
Ana nodded immediately. "I’ve been wondering the same thing!".
Drake finally snapped. "Mindy!" he barked. "Don’t go too far!"
Jagger joined in, his voice sharp. "She’s your sister!"
Mindy turned slowly, her expression one of pure disbelief. She looked at both brothers as though they had just told her the sky was green. Then she rolled her eyes.
"I thought we already established," she said dryly, "I don’t have a sister."
She pointed lazily toward Missy. "You two can keep her. I have standards."
Ana started laughing. "Oh my God!" she howled. "I’ve missed this version of you so much!"
Mindy smiled faintly, then turned toward the five handsome men who had been watching the chaos unfold with barely contained amusement. "So," she said, her tone suddenly light again, "where were we?"
One of them stood up immediately, flashing a charming grin. "I believe," he said, "you were about to inspect my abs."
The room exploded.
Ana clutched her stomach, laughing so hard she could barely breathe. "Yes! Science waits for no one!"
Layton’s face had never looked darker.
He stood there, silent, watching as Mindy laughed freely among strangers—people who didn’t demand her silence, who didn’t measure her worth by obedience.
For the first time, he realized something terrifying.
He had lost her long before she ever walked out that door.
And this time, no amount of control, power, or regret would bring her back.
Mindy turned toward the door, her laughter still echoing behind her. "Gentlemen," she said with a graceful nod, "thank you for the entertainment."
Ana looped her arm through hers, still giggling. "You’re welcome, my Queen of Savage Comebacks."
As they stepped out of the room, the laughter followed them like music.
Behind them, the men of the Hawthorne and Knight families sat in stunned silence.
Draven finally exhaled, setting down his glass. "Well," he said dryly, "that was... educational."
Drake rubbed his temples. Jagger looked like he wanted to sink into the floor. Missy sniffled dramatically, dabbing at her eyes with a tissue.
And Layton—Layton just stood there.
Too late.
He had always been too late.
Ana glanced at her friend, her grin softening into something gentler. "You okay?"
Mindy exhaled slowly. "Better than I’ve been in years."
Ana smiled. "Good. Because that was the most satisfying roast I’ve ever witnessed. You made him look like a malfunctioning robot."
Mindy laughed softly. "He always did short-circuit when things didn’t go his way."
Ana bumped her shoulder playfully. "You know, if this whole design thing doesn’t work out, you could start a career in public humiliation. You’re a natural."
Mindy smiled, her eyes warm again. "I think I’ll stick to art."
"Suit yourself," Ana said. "But if you ever need a hype woman, I’m available. My rates are reasonable."