The Billionaire And His Son Want Me Back (Paisley) novel Chapter 3

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?"