The Billionaire And His Son Want Me Back (Paisley)

Paisley felt the firm grip on her wrist tighten suddenly, and the pain made her gasp in surprise.

"Paisley, who is he?" Dominick's voice was sharp, his gaze burning into her. "The one who called you just now-was it him?"

The tension in the room thickened as Dominick's eyes drilled into hers, a flicker of something dark in his expression.

He remembered the way she had called the person on the phone "darling" earlier a term of endearment she had never once used for him during their four years of marriage.

The air between them crackled with tension, and Paisley quickly gathered herself, her voice a low murmur of defiance. "None of your business." She pulled her wrist from his grasp with all the strength she could muster.

Dominick frowned, about to take a step closer, his lips parted as if to speak, but before he could say anything, he was interrupted by a voice from behind.

"Dom, so this is where you've been." Marissa's voice was sweet and light, laced with an almost too-casual warmth.

She appeared at Dominick's side, clad in a gorgeous, tailored outfit that seemed to glow with sophistication. Her long hair cascaded behind her, swaying as she moved with an easy grace.

"My mother was so happy to see you earlier," she continued, her tone playful. "She was actually a bit upset, saying I don't take enough care of you, having you come to the hospital when you're always so busy."

Marissa's laughter was soft and full of charm as she stepped closer to Dominick. "Honestly, I'm the one who's been wronged. You came here on your own, so next time, you explain it to Mom, alright?" Only then did Marissa seem to notice Paisley standing there. Her gaze shifted with a swift, almost rehearsed smile. "Ms. Sutton? You're back?"

Her smile was polished and brilliant, radiating warmth. If Paisley hadn't caught the subtle way Marissa had been eyeing her-studying her from the moment she came into Marissa's view-she might've believed Marissa's friendliness was genuine.

At that moment, Paisley couldn't help but feel a wave of utter boredom wash over her.

There was no point in her staying and listening to more of Marissa's well-rehearsed act. Without a word, she turned and walked away, her heels clicking sharply against the ground as she headed for the car door. She quickly got into the car and left the scene.

*****

Later, in the living room, the air was heavy with unspoken thoughts. Emery handed Paisley a warm cup of milk, the steam rising gently from the surface. "So, you still haven't cleared things up with him?"

Emery was a good friend Paisley had met in Brightmoor, a renowned designer of evening gowns. She had come to Harrowfell with Paisley, setting up her custom boutique in the town's poshest mall. She was known for her sharp eye for detail and even sharper opinions.

Paisley sipped the milk slowly, feeling the warmth settle in her chest. "No. I didn't explain anything." Emery's reaction was far more animated than Paisley's. "Why not?" she asked, her eyebrows lifting with frustration.

Paisley leaned back, the flicker of an old, bitter smile tugging at her lips. "We're divorced. We have nothing to do with each other anymore. There's no need to explain."

Her eyes darkened, and she muttered with a touch of dry humor, "Besides, he's about to remarry." "Remarry?" Emery's eyes went wide in shock. "With that bitch?"

"That bitch" was Emery's usual nickname for Marissa. Paisley used to correct her whenever she said it, though Marissa truly was a total bitch.

But after a few unsuccessful attempts to stop Emery from saying that, Paisley had given up. The truth was, her marriage with Dominick had crumbled because of both of them-not just because of Marissa. Yet, deep down, Paisley knew she couldn't help but feel that sting. The end of her marriage had never been as simple as a villain in a story. It had been about two people who had simplydisagreed and drifted

apart.

"Yeah, that's her." Paisley continued sipping her milk quietly, as if the conversation didn't concern her. Emery shook her head in disbelief, her voice tinged with irritation. "You're like one of those heroines from those over-the-top romance novels-silent as a stone, driving everyone crazy."

Paisley couldn't help but chuckle at Emery's comment, "You're mistaken. According to those novels, I'm not the heroine. Dominick's fiancée is the main character."

Paisley had a wry smile on her lips as she thought of herself from Marissa's point of view. In her eyes, Paisley was the venomous second lead-returning after disappearing for four years, simply because she was the mother of Dominick's child.

She imagined Marissa would think of her as the type of woman who, after vanishing, suddenly reappeared to insert herself back into Dominick's life, trying to repair her relationship with him and their son, and stirring up tension between Marissa and Dominick.

In the world of those overdone stories, she'd be the villain, the one who'd come back to disrupt the perfect life the hero and heroine were about to build.

And in the end, the story always ended the same-the hero would realize his fiancée was his true love, and the villain would be cast aside, left with nothing.

But honestly, Paisley wasn't interested in playing that part. She didn't want to rekindle anything with Dominick.

To her, he was nothing more than a stale loaf of bread, long past its expiration date. Seeing him again only made her feel disgusted.

"By the way," Emery added, shifting gears as she thought of something else, "did you see your ex- husband today? And what about your ungrateful son?"

The mention of her son made Paisley's calm demeanor waver just slightly. Grayson, her little boy-whom she hadn't seen in four years-was a constant ache in her heart.

When she left four years ago, Grayson was only three. Now he was seven. She couldn't help but wonder what he would be like now.

Before Paisley could dwell on it for too long, a soft, childish voice broke her thoughts. "Mommy."

A tiny, soft body rushed into her arms, and Paisley's heart instantly softened. It was Serena Sutton, her youngest, still wet from her bath, her hair damp and fluffy.

Serena's chubby little cheeks glistened with droplets of water, her big doe eyes blinking up at Paisley with curiosity and affection.

Paisley held her close, feeling the familiar warmth of her daughter against her chest. "Why didn't you dry your hair before coming out? What if you catch a cold?" she scolded gently, her hands already reaching for the towel Maria had handed her to dry Serena's hair.

Maria, the ever-smiling nanny who had been with them since Brightmoor, chuckled softly, "Rena heard your voice and just couldn't wait. She missed you so much and ran right out to see you, no matter what." Paisley couldn't help but smile at the thought. She didn't blame Maria-she had known her for years, and Maria had always been nothing but devoted to them both.

Moreover, Paisley understood her daughter's personality all too well. Just like her, Serena was incredibly stubborn.

Serena, her small face still tucked into her mother's arms, peeked out from under the towel and looked up with wide eyes. "Mommy, I was really good today. Can I not go to kindergarten tomorrow?" The hopeful gleam in her eyes was enough to melt anyone's heart.

Paisley's fingers gently ruffled her daughter's soft hair, and as much as she wanted to give in to that pleading gaze, she held firm. "No, sweetheart. You have to go to kindergarten tomorrow."

Serena's eyes dimmed, the sparkle fading from her little face. "Okay..." she murmured, her shoulders slumping just a little.

Serena had been conceived right before Paisley divorced Dominick four years ago, and like her mother, she carried the surname Sutton. Just as Paisley had nicknamed her son "Sonny" all those years ago, she had given her daughter a name that started with the letter S.

There had been no mention of Serena to Dominick. Paisley didn't think it was necessary.

Otherwise, it would only stir up old feelings and drag her into a tangled mess she no longer wanted to be a part of. She had severed that connection long ago, and she intended to keep it that way.

*****

Paisley had enrolled Serena in a prestigious school, a unique institution that combined kindergarten, preschool, primary, and middle school all under one roof.

The school boasted strict administration, a solid faculty, and state-of-the-art facilities. It had taken Emery several inquiries, along with a little help from her connections, to get Serena into this school.

The kindergarten, preschool, and first-grade and second-grade primary school departments were all located in the same area and shared the same entrance.

At the gate, Paisley crouched down, hugging Serena tightly as they said their goodbyes.

Today was Serena's first day of kindergarten, and it was also the first time she would be separated from her mother for an extended period. Serena's face was scrunched up, trying to hold back tears, her little lips trembling. It broke Paisley's heart.

"Mommy, I'll behave and listen to the teachers. You'll be the first to come pick me up tonight, right?" Serena pouted, her eyes glistening with unshed tears.

Paisley's heart shattered at her daughter's words. She wanted nothing more than to scoop Serena up and run away, to keep her close forever, away from this world of school and strangers.

But she held back. Serena was already three years old old enough for kindergarten. Besides, she was exceptionally sharp for her age, and it would be good for her to go to the kindergarten and interact with more children, to learn and grow in that environment.

Though Paisley knew it was the right thing, the logical thing, to let Serena go, it didn't make it any easier. The teacher, who had seen countless parents and children go through the same heart-wrenching goodbyes when the kids started kindergarten, didn't rush them. She gave Paisley and Serena the space to say their farewells in their own time.

A car slowly rolled up, its engine humming gently as it came to a stop. Inside, Grayson stared blankly ahead, his eyes unfocused as if lost in thought.

"Sonny, what are you looking at?" Stella Prescott, a little girl with her hair styled in cute pigtails, leaned in and followed Grayson's gaze.

Her eyes widened when she saw Paisley squat down, hold her daughter close and speak softly to her. Paisley's tone was gentle but heavy with the sadness of parting.

Stella blinked and asked tentatively, "Sonny, are you thinking about your mommy?"

The mention of his mother seemed to hit a nerve. Grayson's face darkened, his expression sharpening into something fierce. His gaze turned cold, almost hostile. "Don't talk about that vile woman. She doesn't deserve to be my mother. I would never, ever, miss her."

Stella's eyes widened in surprise, and she was momentarily frightened by Grayson's intensity. She paused for a moment before responding softly, trying to comfort him, "You're right, Sonny. A vile woman like that doesn't deserve to be your mom."

She studied Grayson's face, searching for any sign of relief, before continuing, "But don't worry. When Aunt Marissa marries Dominick, she'll be your new mommy. She loves you so much. She'll be your real mommy then."

Grayson's face softened a little at her words, though the storm in his eyes hadn't completely cleared. He clung to the thought, finding a small bit of solace in it. 'Yeah, if Marissa could be my mom, that would be great.'

The notion swirled in his young mind like a comforting balm, as if the idea of Marissa stepping into the role of his mother could somehow make things better, could fill the void he felt.