Chapter 41: The Invitation

When the meal ended, Mindy stood to leave. Before she could, she turned to Adam with a small smile.

"Oh, and congratulations."

Adam raised an eyebrow. "For what?"

"The Bright Group officially transferred last year’s championship trophy to you yesterday," she said. "You finally became the rightful winner."

Adam blinked, then laughed softly. "I almost forgot."

Steven smiled. "Thanks to you, he finally got what belonged to him."

They walked out together, exchanging polite farewells at the entrance. Adam’s car pulled away slowly, disappearing into the afternoon light.

Mindy stood by the roadside, the breeze tugging gently at her hair. She took out her phone to call a cab.

She looked up and noticed a familiar shadow.

Layton.

He stood beside a black Rolls-Royce, leaning casually against the driver’s door. His expression was unreadable, his posture relaxed but commanding.

Mindy frowned. "Are you stalking me now?"

Layton ignored the question. He opened the passenger door.

"Get in."

Mindy crossed her arms. "No."

She reached for her phone, but he raised it higher, just out of reach.

"I said," he said in a low voice, "get in."

Her patience snapped.

"Layton! Give me my phone!"

People passing by began glancing in their direction. The tension between them was palpable, sharp enough to draw attention.

Layton didn’t move. For several long seconds, they simply stared at each other.

Then, unexpectedly, his voice softened.

"Please," he said quietly. "Get in."

Mindy froze.

She had never heard that tone from him before—gentle, almost pleading.

Her eyes narrowed. "What now? What excuse are you using this time?"

Layton met her gaze steadily. His expression remained calm, but there was something different in his eyes—something she couldn’t quite name.

"Grandma," he said finally, his voice low. "She wants to see you."

Mindy’s expression froze.

The noise of the street faded. The wind seemed to still.

For a moment, she simply stood there, staring at him, her heart caught between disbelief.

Layton didn’t move. He only waited, silent and patient, as if he already knew she wouldn’t refuse.

The world around them blurred into quiet motion—cars passing, people walking, sunlight glinting off glass.

But between them, the air was heavy.

Mindy’s fingers tightened around her bag.

After everything that had happened, after all the years of silence and distance, the last thing she expected was this.

Layton’s grandmother.

The matriarch of the Knight family.

For a long moment, Mindy simply stared at Layton, her expression unreadable. The late-afternoon light spilled across the pavement, painting his face in gold and shadow. His words still hung between them, quiet but heavy.

"Grandma wants to see me?" she asked at last, her voice low, almost disbelieving.

Something flickered in her eyes—something softer, gentler than the cold indifference she usually reserved for him.

Hannah Knight.

Even the name carried warmth.

Unlike the rest of the Knight family, Hannah had never treated her with condescension or suspicion. Even before Mindy had married Layton, the old Madam had welcomed her with open arms, her kindness untainted by whispers about social class or family politics.

Hannah and her husband, Matthew Knight, had been among the very few who had never looked down on her.

And that was something Mindy could never forget.

She exhaled slowly, her gaze drifting toward the car waiting by the curb.

"Fine," she murmured. "I’ll go."

Layton opened the passenger door for her, but she didn’t look at him as she stepped inside.

Mike was already seated in the front, his posture straight, his eyes fixed on the road ahead. Layton followed quietly, taking the seat beside her.

The door closed with a soft click, sealing them inside a silence that felt almost suffocating.

The Rolls-Royce glided through the city, its engine a low hum beneath the tension filling the air. Mindy sat by the window, her gaze fixed on the passing scenery. Buildings blurred into trees, and trees into open fields, but her expression never changed.

Layton sat beside her, his hands resting loosely on his knees. He wanted to speak, but every word he thought of felt wrong.

The silence stretched until it became unbearable.

Finally, he broke it.

"What did you talk about with Adam Gray?"

His tone was calm, but there was an edge beneath it—something sharp, something he couldn’t quite hide.

Mindy didn’t even turn her head.

"None of your business, President Knight."

Mike’s shoulders stiffened in the front seat. He stared straight ahead, pretending to be invisible.

Layton’s jaw tightened. "We’re still married, Mindy."

She let out a quiet, humorless laugh.

"Not for long."

He turned toward her, his voice low. "I’ve told you so many times. I never wanted a divorce."

That made her look at him. For the first time since the car had started moving, their eyes met.

There was no anger in hers.

Only disappointment.

"So," she said softly, "I should be grateful? Grateful that you wanted to keep me beside you while protecting your sweetheart?"

Layton’s brows furrowed. "Missy isn’t—"

She cut him off before he could finish.

"And the reason you handed me those divorce papers was because of the design theft six months ago." Her voice was calm, but every word landed like a blade. "Did you ask me what really happened? No. Did you believe even one word I said? No. You didn’t investigate. You didn’t question anyone. You simply decided I was guilty."

Her gaze didn’t waver.

"So tell me, Layton. Why should I believe you now?"

The silence that followed was deafening.

Layton’s throat tightened. He wanted to speak, to defend himself, but the words refused to come.

Mike glanced at them through the rear-view mirror, his expression quietly judgmental. He quickly looked away when Layton’s eyes met his.

"I didn’t even know you were a designer," Layton said finally, his voice rough. "How could I have known?"

Mindy laughed softly.

It wasn’t a happy sound. It was the kind of laugh that carried years of exhaustion and quiet heartbreak.

"Did you ever try to know me?" she asked. "My hobbies. My dreams. My studies. My friends. What I liked. What I hated. You never asked. Your world revolved around your girlfriend."

Layton’s response was immediate.

"She isn’t my girlfriend."

Mindy turned back to the window.

"As if I’d believe you."

Five words.

That was all it took to end the conversation.

Layton opened his mouth, then closed it again. He stared at her profile—the calm, distant expression, the way her fingers rested loosely in her lap—and realized something he had never understood before.

No matter what he said now, she wouldn’t believe him.

Not because she was stubborn.

But because he had never believed her first.

Perhaps this helplessness—the frustration of speaking while no one trusted you—was exactly what she had endured all those years.

The rest of the journey passed in silence.

The Knight Old Mansion stood nearly an hour outside the city, nestled among centuries-old trees that whispered softly in the wind. The estate was magnificent—its stone walls draped in ivy, its gardens meticulously kept, its air filled with the quiet dignity of history.

When the car turned through the wrought-iron gates, gravel crunched beneath the tires. The mansion loomed ahead, elegant and timeless, its windows glowing faintly in the afternoon light.

As the car came to a stop, the front doors opened.

An elderly woman stepped out, her posture straight despite her age, her movements graceful. Her silver hair was neatly pinned, and her eyes were bright with intelligence and warmth.

Hannah Knight.

The old Madam of the Knight family.

She was known throughout Greendale as a woman of grace and wisdom—a matriarch who carried herself with quiet authority. Though she rarely appeared in public now, she still assisted her husband, Matthew Knight, with the affairs of Knight Corporation.

Her influence was subtle but undeniable.

People respected her not because of her wealth or her title, but because of her heart.

Hannah Knight never judged people by their status. She judged them by their character.

It was that quality that had made her beloved by everyone who knew her.

And it was that same quality that had made her Emma Wilson’s closest friend.

The two women had shared decades of friendship—through youth, marriage, motherhood, and loss. Hannah had watched Mindy grow up, seen her take her first steps, attended her school recitals, and sent her birthday gifts even after Mindy’s mother passed away.

She knew the truth of who Mindy was.

Kind.

Gentle.

Patient.

Nothing like the rumors the Hawthorne family had spread.

To Hannah, Mindy had always been her favorite granddaughter-in-law. No matter how much Missy Hawthorne tried to please her, she had never managed to replace Mindy in Hannah’s heart.

The car door opened.

Mindy stepped out, the wind brushing softly against her hair.

The moment Hannah saw her, her face lit up.

"My dear granddaughter-in-law!"

Her voice was full of warmth, her eyes glistening with emotion. She didn’t even glance at Layton. Instead, she walked straight toward Mindy, her steps surprisingly steady for her age.

She took both of Mindy’s hands in hers, holding them tightly as if afraid to let go.

"You’ve become even more beautiful," she said, her voice trembling slightly. "My granddaughter-in-law is truly breathtaking. And so talented. Just like your mother."

For the first time that day, Mindy smiled—a real smile, soft and genuine.

"Grandma Hannah," she said quietly. "I’ve missed you."

Hannah’s eyes softened. She reached up and gently touched Mindy’s cheek.

"I’ve missed you too, child."

Her gaze swept over Mindy, full of affection and concern.

"You’ve become thinner. Have you been eating properly?"

Mindy chuckled softly. "I have."

"And your health? Are you taking your medicine on time?"

Hannah’s smile remained warm.

Behind them, Layton stood silently, watching the two women.

He had seen his grandmother smile countless times before, but never like this. Never with such warmth.

And Mindy looked different too. The coldness that had surrounded her for so long seemed to melt away in Hannah’s presence. Her eyes were bright, her smile unguarded.

It was the smile she used to give him once.

Before everything fell apart.

Something inside his chest tightened painfully.

Hannah led Mindy inside, her hand still clasped around hers. The mansion’s interior was as grand as ever—high ceilings, polished marble floors, and portraits of generations of Knights lining the walls.

Yet despite its grandeur, the house felt warm.

It was Hannah’s presence that made it so.

"Matthew is in the study," she said as they walked. "He’s been waiting to see you too."

Mindy’s steps faltered slightly.

"Grandfather Matthew?"

Hannah smiled.

"Of course. He’s been asking about you for months. He was furious when he heard about the divorce papers."

Layton’s shoulders stiffened behind them.

Hannah noticed but said nothing.

They entered the sitting room, where sunlight streamed through tall windows, illuminating the soft cream furniture. A tea set was already prepared on the table, steam curling gently from the pot.

"Sit, child," Hannah said, guiding Mindy to the sofa. "You must be tired from the journey."

Mindy obeyed, her movements graceful.

Hannah poured tea for her, her hands steady despite her age.

Layton remained standing near the doorway, silent.

Hannah glanced at him briefly.

"You can sit too, Layton. You look like a stranger in your own home."

He hesitated, then sat across from them.

The silence that followed was filled only by the soft clinking of porcelain.

Hannah studied Mindy for a long moment before speaking again.

"I watched the Bright Design Competition," she said. "You were magnificent."

Mindy blinked, surprised.

"You watched it?"

"Of course I did," Hannah said proudly. "Matthew and I watched every round. You reminded me so much of your mother. The way you spoke, the way you carried yourself—it was like seeing Maria again."

Mindy’s throat tightened.

"Thank you, Grandma."

Hannah reached out and patted her hand gently.

"You’ve grown into a remarkable woman, Mindy. I always knew you would."

Her eyes softened further.

"I also know what happened six months ago. And I know you were innocent."