Chapter 26: Waiting for the Trap

The morning air outside the Civil Affairs Bureau was crisp and bright, carrying the faint scent of rain that had fallen during the night.

Mindy stepped out of the building and paused on the steps, letting the sunlight touch her face.

For a long moment, she simply stood there, breathing in the quiet. The breeze brushed against her cheeks, cool and clean, and she felt something close to peace.

Relief came slowly, like warmth spreading through her chest. She had expected to feel shaken after facing Layton again—to feel the familiar ache that used to follow every argument, every disappointment. But instead, there was only calm.

And, surprisingly, amusement.

Even now, after everything, Layton still believed he could negotiate with her.

He still thought he could use things that already belonged to her as leverage. The thought made her laugh under her breath.

He hadn’t changed.

But she had.

Mindy shook her head, the faintest smile curving her lips as she unlocked her phone. The first person she called wasn’t Ana. It was Wade.

The call connected almost instantly.

"Minnie," came her brother’s voice, warm and steady through the speaker. "Finished?"

"Not yet," she said, walking down the steps. "I need your help with something."

"I’m listening."

She crossed the street, her heels clicking softly against the pavement, and stopped beside a small café with flower boxes hanging from the windows.

The scent of roses drifted through the air. "I’ll send you a lead," she said. "It’s about Angel Tear."

There was a pause on the other end. When Wade spoke again, his tone had changed—calmer, but sharper. "The tiara?"

"Yes," she said quietly. "I finally have a direction."

She stopped beside a flower shop, her gaze lingering on a bouquet of white lilies displayed in the window.

"There was a woman named Tori. She was responsible for organizing the auction where Angel Tear was sold. I checked before—she left the city years ago. But I have a feeling she’s connected to Emily somehow."

For two seconds, there was silence. Then Wade’s voice came through, low and certain. "I’ll investigate. If she’s left even a single trace, I’ll find it."

Mindy smiled faintly. "I knew I could count on you."

"You’ve forgotten something," he said.

"What?"

"I’m your brother. You don’t need to thank me."

Her smile softened. "Fine. But don’t work too hard. Grandpa will scold me."

"He already does," Wade replied dryly, and she laughed.

The sound was light, unguarded. It had been a long time since she’d laughed like that.

They talked for another minute—about nothing and everything. Wade asked if she’d eaten breakfast; she teased him about his terrible coffee addiction.

It was the kind of conversation that reminded her of home, of safety, of the one person who had never doubted her.

When the call ended, Mindy slipped her phone back into her bag and looked up at the sky. The clouds had begun to drift apart, revealing a stretch of pale blue.

Angel Tear.

This time, no matter who possessed it, she would bring it home. Because it had never belonged to anyone else.

Half an hour later, Ana arrived at the café carrying two iced coffees and the kind of energy that could wake the dead.

She spotted Mindy immediately and waved dramatically, nearly spilling both drinks in the process.

"Your caffeine delivery has arrived!" she announced, sliding into the seat across from her. "Now, tell me everything before I combust from curiosity."

Mindy accepted the coffee with a small smile. "You’re impossible."

"I’m efficient," Ana corrected, crossing her legs. "Now spill."

Mindy took a sip, the cold sweetness grounding her. Then, calmly, she told Ana everything—from Layton’s refusal to divorce her, to the mention of Angel Tear, to the strange deal they had reached.

Ana listened without interrupting, her expression shifting from disbelief to outrage to barely contained laughter.

When Mindy finished, Ana blinked twice, leaned back in her chair, and then burst out laughing so loudly that several people turned to stare.

"So let me get this straight," she said between gasps. "The great President Knight—Greendale’s most emotionally constipated CEO—actually begged you not to divorce him?"

Mindy shrugged, her tone casual. "More or less."

Ana slapped the table, nearly knocking over her drink. "I should’ve hidden under the bushes! I would’ve paid money to see his face."

Mindy couldn’t help laughing. "You have strange hobbies."

"I have excellent hobbies," Ana said proudly. "My favorite one is watching idiots regret their life choices."

Mindy almost choked on her coffee. "You’re terrible."

"I’m honest," Ana said, grinning. "And you love me for it."

Mindy rolled her eyes, but the warmth in her expression betrayed her amusement.

For a few minutes, they simply sat there, laughing. The tension that had followed Mindy all morning began to fade, replaced by the easy comfort that only Ana could bring.

When the laughter finally subsided, Ana leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand. "So," she said, her tone shifting. "What now?"

Mindy’s smile faded. She stirred her coffee slowly, watching the ice swirl in the glass. "I’m going to wait."

Ana frowned. "Wait?"

Mindy nodded. "There’s someone who wants this divorce far more than I do."

Ana’s eyes narrowed. "Missy."

"Exactly."

Mindy’s voice was calm, but her eyes gleamed with quiet calculation. "She’s spent years trying to become Mrs. Knight. Do you really think she’ll quietly accept Layton refusing to divorce me?"

Ana’s lips curved into a slow grin. "So she’s going to make another move."

"Definitely," Mindy said. "And this time, I’m going to let her expose herself. I won’t chase her. I’ll wait. People become careless when they think they’re winning."

Ana leaned back in her chair, her grin widening. "I almost feel sorry for her."

Mindy raised an eyebrow. "You? Feeling sorry?"

Ana nodded solemnly. "For about two seconds."

They both burst into laughter again, the sound bright and unrestrained.

When the laughter faded, Ana sighed dramatically. "You know, if karma had a face, it would look exactly like yours right now."

Mindy smiled faintly. "Karma takes time. I’m just giving it a little push."

Ana tilted her head. "You’re terrifying when you say things like that."

"I’m practical," Mindy said simply.

Ana laughed again, shaking her head. "Practical, beautiful, and terrifying. No wonder he’s losing his mind."

Mindy didn’t respond. She didn’t need to.

The conversation drifted to lighter topics until Ana suddenly straightened, her eyes gleaming with excitement. "Enough about the fake white lotus," she said. "Are you ready?"

Mindy looked up. "For what?"

"The competition," Ana said, as if it were obvious.

"The National Design Championship. The biggest stage in the country. This year, everyone’s participating—Rona, Starlight, international brands, and..." She paused dramatically. "LUXT."

Mindy’s lips curved into a faint smile. "I know."

Ana twirled her straw in her drink. "Nervous?"

Mindy turned toward the window. Outside, Greendale was alive with motion—people hurrying to work, cars weaving through traffic, sunlight glinting off glass buildings.

Her reflection stared back at her from the window. The same face. But not the same woman.

"Not nervous," she said softly. "I’m looking forward to it."

Ana raised an eyebrow. "Confident?"

Mindy nodded slowly. "This time, I’m not fighting to prove I’m talented. I’m simply taking back what should have never been stolen."

Ana’s grin returned. "Now that’s the spirit. I can already see the headlines: Mindy Wilson Returns—The Phoenix of Greendale."

Mindy laughed. "You’re ridiculous."

"I’m visionary," Ana corrected. "And I expect front-row seats when you win."

"You’ll get them," Mindy promised.

Ana leaned back, satisfied. "Good. Because I plan to scream louder than anyone else."

Mindy shook her head, smiling. "You always do."

A gust of wind swept through the café’s open windows, carrying the scent of roasted coffee and blooming flowers. The sunlight shifted, spilling across the table, catching the faint gold in Mindy’s hair.

For a moment, everything felt still. Peaceful.

Neither woman noticed the black sedan parked quietly across the street.

Inside, Mike lowered the binoculars and glanced toward the back seat. "President," he said carefully, "they’re just drinking coffee."

Layton didn’t answer.

His gaze remained fixed on the café window, where Mindy sat laughing with Ana. The sound didn’t reach him, but he could imagine it—the lightness, the ease.

It was a smile he had never seen during the two years they lived together.

He had seen her polite smiles, the ones she wore at business dinners and charity galas. He had seen her tired smiles, the ones she forced when he came home late. But this—this was different.

This was real.

Layton’s fingers tightened slightly against his knee. He didn’t know why he was there. He told himself it was curiosity, that he only wanted to make sure she was safe. But the truth was harder to admit.

He missed her.

Not the quiet woman who used to wait for him at home, but the one sitting in that café—the one who laughed freely, who looked alive.

Mike cleared his throat. "Should I continue surveillance?"

Layton didn’t respond immediately. His eyes followed Mindy as she leaned forward, smiling at something Ana said. The sunlight caught her profile, and for a moment, he forgot to breathe.

Finally, he said quietly, "No. That’s enough."

Mike nodded, starting the car.

As the sedan pulled away from the curb, Layton looked out the window one last time. The café grew smaller in the distance, but the image of her—smiling, radiant, untouchable—stayed with him.

He had spent years believing control was strength. That silence was peace. That love was unnecessary.

Now, watching her from afar, he realized how wrong he had been.

Because the silence he had built around himself no longer felt peaceful.

It felt empty.

And for the first time, Layton Knight understood what it meant to lose something he had never truly valued until it was gone.

Back inside the café, Ana was still talking, her hands moving animatedly as she described her latest media project. Mindy listened with half a smile, her thoughts drifting.

She wasn’t thinking about Layton anymore. Or Missy. Or even the deal she had made that morning.

She was thinking about Angel Tear.

About her mother’s gentle voice. About the promise she had made to herself years ago—to bring it home, no matter what it took.

The tiara wasn’t just a piece of jewelry. It was a memory. A legacy. A symbol of everything that had been stolen from her.

And she was done losing.

Her phone buzzed softly on the table. A message from Wade.

Wade:Already started digging. Found something interesting. Will call tonight.

Mindy’s lips curved into a small, knowing smile.

The first thread had been pulled.

Now, all she had to do was wait.

Because patience, she had learned, was the sharpest weapon of all.

And Missy Hawthorne hopeful fantasy—was about to walk straight into her own trap.

Mindy lifted her coffee, the ice clinking softly against the glass. Across from her, Ana was still talking, her laughter bright and unrestrained.

Outside, the city moved on, unaware that somewhere between its glittering streets and quiet corners, a reckoning had already begun.

Mindy took another sip, her gaze steady, her heart calm.

She wasn’t running anymore.

She was waiting.

And this time, she would be the one to decide when the game ended.