The Psychotic Girl’s Revenge

She was led by Enrico through the crowd, with everyone curious but not daring to ask a single question.

“Mr. Gustin, shall I take you to the third floor?”

The group took the elevator to the third floor, where posters about the competition were plastered everywhere.

The venue was spacious, bright, and immaculately clean, devoid of any dust. Perhaps due to infrequent events, the stage wasn’t as grand as those in large performance venues, but it exuded a strong artistic ambiance.

This was truly a hall of art.

“Mr. Gustin, we apologize for the inconvenience. Due to the special venue, it’s difficult to arrange separate VIP areas. We hope you don’t mind sitting in the front row,” the leader apologized.

Enrico, annoyed by their chatter, glanced at Jaden, who immediately stepped forward to handle the situation. “Please, everyone, carry on with your tasks.”

The crowd dispersed.

Enrico led Paige to the front row, where they took seats in the prime spot closest to the stage. The view from here was indeed excellent.

Once seated, Enrico naturally draped his hand over the back of Paige’s chair, as if holding her close.

Paige continued to feign a vacant expression.

Enrico glanced at her, then leaned closer, his lips almost touching her ear. “Relax. Even if you have an episode and cause a scene here, it won’t matter.”

Paige still maintained her vacant expression.

Seeing her lack of reaction, Enrico didn’t mind. He simply patted her gently on the head.

Suddenly, Jaden walked over. “Boss, there’s an important overseas call for you. They need you to take it.”

Upon hearing this, Enrico pinched Paige’s cheek lightly. “Wait for me here.”NôvelDrama.Org content.

Paige didn’t even glance at him.

Enrico stood up and walked towards the exit, where he collided with Malik and Molly entering the venue.

Molly was delighted and, ignoring Malik’s warnings, stepped forward. “Mr. Gustin, I’m Senator Malik’s…”

Before she could finish her sentence, Enrico coldly walked past her, brushing her shoulder due to her sudden approach.

“Ah…” Molly stumbled, twisting her foot, and instinctively grabbed his arm.

Enrico halted, lowering his head, his face clouded with displeasure. Despite this, Molly felt captivated by his deep gaze, her cheeks involuntarily turning red. “Mr…”

“Let go, unless you want trouble,” Enrico said sternly, his expression dark.

Molly, who had never been so disregarded by a man before, stood there dumbfounded. Sensing the tension, Malik quickly pulled her away, apologizing, “Sorry, Mr. Gustin, my daughter…”

Enrico turned and walked away without even listening to an explanation.

Malik awkwardly patted Molly on the back. “Once you win the award, he’ll respect you more.”

Molly watched his retreating figure, feeling utterly dejected.

“Let’s go.” Malik guided her towards the venue, where seats were almost seventy percent filled.

Molly specifically scanned the women in black dresses, feeling relieved that none were more beautiful than herself.

The next moment, she noticed Paige sitting calmly in the front row.

“This bitch, we spent a fortune trying to find her, and here she is, mingling in this art palace competition?” Molly was furious, pulling Malik’s arm.

Malik had also spotted Paige. His expression darkened as he and Molly approached, taking seats on either side of Paige.

Paige sat there, seemingly lost in thought. When she looked up, she saw Molly. She glanced towards Jaden, Enrico’s assistant, who had a seat not in the front row but behind. He was currently focused on his phone.

“How did you end up here?” Molly whispered sharply.

Paige chuckled softly, tinged with sarcasm. “Miss Clarke has a short memory. Don’t you remember everything at the Heaven Hotel?”

“Heaven Hotel” were two words that now triggered Molly’s worst memories. Just hearing them made her uncomfortable, as if a hundred insects were crawling under her skin.

She glared at Paige with resentment. “Don’t pretend in front of me. I know you’re Paige, not Joss. I’ll expose your mask sooner or later.”

“Is that so?” Paige glanced at her. “Then I’ll be waiting for it.”

“Ahem…” Malik sat with a stern expression next to Paige, clearing his throat twice before speaking, “Paige, you don’t even recognize your ‘dad’?”

“Dad?” Paige looked at him, puzzled. “Who are you? Is there any dad in this world who would send his daughter to the slums?”

“Paige, regardless, I’ve raised you for eighteen years. I don’t expect anything in return, just hope you’ll visit home when you have time.”

“Dad…” Molly muttered, feeling irritated. Why was he being so polite to Paige?

Paige smirked, placing her hand on her lap. “Mr. Clarke, are you suggesting I come to your house so you can grab me and make me disappear from this world silently?”

“You’re thinking too much. I simply miss you, and so does your mother,” Malik said gently.

“Mr. Clarke, what goes around comes around. Bad deeds will always have consequences,” Paige smiled, her eyes fixed on the stage.

Two staff members approached them with smiles, saying, “Mr. Clarke, Miss Clarke, the final competition is about to start. Could you please return to your seats?”

Molly’s expression soured as she looked at Paige. “Why isn’t she asked to go back to her own seat?”

The staff member replied matter-of-factly, “This VIP’s seat is supposed to be here.”

“What?” Molly was shocked. Paige’s seat was in the front row? On what basis? And she’s a VIP too?

Paige sat there smiling, not even glancing at Molly.

“Paige,” Malik managed to keep his composure, lowering his voice as he said to her, “After the competition, don’t rush off. I’d like to talk to you.”

This time, he was determined to discreetly confront Paige and get things clear.

After saying that, he pulled Molly away, following the staff’s guidance to their seats.

Molly was fuming. “Why does she get to sit…”

Molly suddenly had a sinking feeling. She looked at Paige’s back and noticed Paige was wearing a black dress, with a bit of gray added to the front. Could it be that Paige was Enrico’s companion? Impossible! Molly immediately dismissed the thought. Someone like Paige, a nobody with no parents, how could she possibly become Enrico’s companion?

As she thought this, the final competition started on time.

The lights dimmed inside the venue, casting the seats into darkness. Unlike typical competitions, After the host’s opening remarks and explanation of the competition rules, they began showcasing each oil painting individually, with only five pieces making it to the final round.

The curtain behind the stage slowly drew back, revealing paintings one by one on the screens. Simultaneously, staff members wheeled out display stands bearing the original artworks, circling them on tracks at the front of the stage for everyone to admire.

As each oil painting was displayed, the venue filled with applause and commentary.

When “Flaming Sunflower” was rolled out, gasps of admiration filled the air.

Molly felt particularly proud.

In the darkness, a tall figure entered from outside and walked towards the seating area, heading for the front row- Enrico. Molly craned her neck upward, trying to see where he sat, but the dim lighting made it impossible to make out.

Paige sat there, watching “Flaming Sunflower” on the display stand. The entire composition and symbolism were exceptionally crafted, exuding a vibrant sense of vitality. As she observed, a hand suddenly rested on her shoulder.

Enrico had returned and draped his arm around her, showing mild interest in the painting on stage.

“The next piece is from contestant number 17881, titled ‘First Snow Maiden’,” announced the host.

As the host’s voice faded, the large screen slowly revealed the artwork. In an instant, Paige felt Enrico’s hand on her shoulder tense. She turned to look at him. In the dim light, his face was devoid of expression, staring straight at the screen.

The screen enlarged the original painting proportionally-a canvas dominated entirely by white. “First Snow Maiden” depicted no young girl, only pure, snow-covered landscapes dotted with what seemed like vibrant flower petals, but upon closer inspection, resembled splashes of vivid blood.