The Psychotic Girl’s Revenge

“6 billion, sold!”

The host shouted for a while, and with the final gavel strike, thunderous applause erupted throughout the venue.

Carrie stood up with an embarrassed expression and hurriedly left.

Tiffany was feeling extremely pleased with herself, as many people came forward to toast the main table, congratulating Mr. Grissom on having such an excellent son-in-law.

Jason played along graciously, “With a daughter-in-law as wonderful as Tiffany, what’s a painting? Anything she wants is hers once she’s part of the Smiths family.”

His words were perfectly timed.

Mr. Grissom was moved, putting a hand on Jason’s shoulder as if they were close brothers.

With that painting, Tiffany was placed on a pedestal by Bryan, turning her into a cherished princess.

She smiled, holding Bryan’s arm, and spoke to everyone with newfound humility, “I genuinely love this painting and wanted to buy it myself, but Bryan insisted on gifting it to me as a birthday present.”

Who gives birthday gifts like this? It was practically inhumane.

Everyone chimed in with praise. Among them, Rachel was particularly flattering, praising Tiffany and Bryan as a perfect couple, making Tiffany even more delighted.

Molly stood in the distance, looking at Bryan, and couldn’t help but shed more tears.

…

In the lounge, Paige lounged lazily on the sofa, resting her head on one hand, her mask still on her face.

She held her phone, reading a message from Carrie.

**[Carrie: 6 billion!!!]**

Even someone as cold as Carrie had used three exclamation marks, showing how shocking the situation was.

Paige smiled faintly, put away her phone, and looked at Angie, who was standing nearby. “Bryan spent 6 billion to buy the painting and immediately gave it to Tiffany. The headlines are calling it ‘The Real Princess with Her Real Prince’.”

Angie couldn’t help but comment, “That so-called real prince only exists because of you.”

Otherwise, there wouldn’t be such a sensational headline.

“The alliance between the Smiths family and the Grissom family is now stronger than ever,” Paige said lazily.

Hearing this, Angie sneered, “Whether their relationship remains strong is entirely up to you.”

“I’m not all-powerful,” Paige replied.

She knew Angie had high expectations of her, never doubting any of her decisions.

But she really wasn’t all-powerful. She simply approached her tasks like solving a puzzle, carefully calculating each step to eventually arrive at the answer.

“No, you are all-powerful, Miss. No one but you could have rebuilt the slums.”

If she weren’t older than Paige, Angie might have wanted to follow Carrie’s example and call her “Sister Paige.” She truly deserved it.

Paige didn’t say anything more, just nodded and asked, “By the way, where’s Enrico?”

She hadn’t seen him since leaving the venue.

“Mr. Enrico went back first,” Angie replied.

Paige’s expression darkened. Angie had approached her at the venue to inform her about Enrico shooting two of Jeremy’s bodyguards.

This was the Heaven Hotel-nothing could escape her notice here.

She had been wondering why Enrico had such a dark expression tonight, and now she knew he had encountered some trouble.

Every time something involving Jeremy came up, Enrico would act out of character. And since she hadn’t let him buy the painting, he was probably sulking somewhere by himself.

Paige glanced at the time on her phone.

Once she finished this final scene, she could go home and console him.

As Paige thought about Enrico, she idly flipped through the TV channels. Tonight’s news was all about the charity gala: the 6 billion dollar painting, Bryan’s passionate love, Tiffany being a princess despite all the online hate, the alliance between the Smiths family and the Grissom family, and their upcoming collaboration with Artisans…

They had taken over all the headlines.

After a while, the doorbell rang.

Finally, Tiffany had arrived. It wasn’t in vain that Paige had waited so long.

Angie went to open the door, and there stood Bryan and Tiffany, arm in arm, with two assistants carefully holding the painting behind them.

“Mr. Bryan, Miss Tiffany,” Angie greeted them respectfully with a slight bow.

“I’m here to… to see the painter,” Tiffany hesitated to say the name, finding it too common. “Didn’t the painter say the answer to ‘Rebirth’ would only be revealed to the buyer? So here we are.”

By Tiffany’s logic, lowering herself to meet someone was beneath her, but Paige was different. As a painter, Paige was someone the wealthy liked to praise. And besides, Tiffany had just had Bryan spend a fortune to make her famous. Coming to see Paige in person was a way to show respect, proving that she hadn’t bought the painting just for show but because Paige was worth it.

Angie stood at the door, politely asking, “Our lady is only willing to reveal the answer to the buyer, so which of you is coming in?”

So difficult?

Artists always had quirks.

But Tiffany was riding high on her success, so she didn’t mind. She glanced at the silent Bryan beside her and said, “Since Bryan gifted me the painting, it’s mine. I’ve admired the painter for a long time and would love to meet her.”

“Please come in, Miss Tiffany,” Angie said, stepping aside and putting on white gloves. She took the painting from the assistants and followed Tiffany inside.

Bryan stood at the doorway as the door slowly closed. The figure on the sofa gave him a sense of deja vu.

The door shut, and the room’s lighting dimmed, becoming soft and gentle.

Paige finally relaxed, letting go of the hand supporting her head, and stood up from the sofa. She walked over to Tiffany with a slight smile, “Miss Tiffany, it’s an honor that you’ve come to see me today.”

Tiffany looked at the woman in front of her, who had an excellent figure and graceful demeanor. Even though her face was hidden, Tiffany felt like a mere accessory, which made her uncomfortable.

At least there was no one else around.

It didn’t matter-since she had invested in this painter, she would support her, even if it was painful.

“Are all painters always this mysterious?” Tiffany asked, glancing at the mask on Paige’s face.

“This?” Paige pointed to her mask. “I was in a fire before, and my face is scarred, unlike your beauty, Miss Tiffany, so I have to cover it up.”

So she’s ugly.

Tiffany was pleased to hear Paige speak without the typical pretentiousness of an artist. Plus, knowing she was ugly made Tiffany feel more at ease, lowering her guard as she smiled and exchanged a few humble words.

Paige led Tiffany to the table to chat. Under Tiffany’s gaze, Angie carefully placed the painting on a chair in front of them and then went to pour tea.

Two cups of tea were served.

Tiffany took a sip, “This tea is nice.”© 2024 Nôv/el/Dram/a.Org.

“I’m glad you like it, Miss Tiffany,” Paige smiled.

“So, will the painter now tell me the mystery behind this painting?”

Tiffany set down her teacup. She genuinely liked Paige’s work.

Paige didn’t answer immediately, instead smiling at her, “You’re so intelligent, Miss Tiffany. I’m sure you already know the answer.”

No one dislikes flattery, especially Tiffany.

She stood up and turned the painting in front of her, flipping it so that the blue lake in the painting was on top and the blazing fire was below. Then, full of confidence, she looked at Paige, “Is this it?”