From Forgotten Wife To Fierce Queen - Chapter 55: Chapter 55

The revelation that Paisley was actually Charles' mentor hit like a bomb.
Even for these big shots who'd seen their share of shocking twists, this was too much to process. The room went dead silent as the news sank in.
"That's impossible." Marissa's perfectly composed mask finally cracked. Her face, usually the picture of grace and serenity, twisted with disbelief. "Mr. Hansen, you can't be serious. She's so young. There's no way she could be your mentor."
'This can't be real,' Marissa thought. 'Paisley as Mr. Hansen's mentor? Who does she think she is? What makes her so special? She's nobody, absolutely nobody.'
Marissa couldn't accept this.
Charles was seething. This was the second time Marissa had disrespected Paisley, and his patience was wearing thin. The first time had been bad enough, but at least Paisley hadn't been there to witness it.
But now, Marissa was being rude right in front of both of them.
"You're completely out of line." Charles' voice trembled with anger, the warmth he'd shown Marissa earlier completely gone. "I only asked my mentor to come here because you seemed genuinely concerned and respectful. I wouldn't have bothered her otherwise."
Charles had already caught enough grief from Paisley just for asking her to come. "And now that she's actually here, you're refusing to believe it?" His voice rose in frustration.
Seeing Charles' mounting anger, Marissa bit her lip, her face darkening. "Mr. Hansen, it's not that I don't believe you. It's just...this is completely insane."
Paisley was two years younger than her. Marissa couldn't believe that Paisley would actually be Charles' mentor.
"What's so hard to believe?" Charles' face darkened as he defended Paisley. "Ms. Sutton's medical skills surpass my own. Why shouldn't I study under her?"
This scene sent Paisley's cringe meter through the roof. She fidgeted uncomfortably, shooting an annoyed glare at Charles.
Just then, Jonathan came rushing out of the consultation room. He'd been stuck dealing with an urgent matter when Paisley arrived, and he'd come running the moment he finished. Like everyone else, he was dying to meet this mysterious medical expert who'd taught Charles.
Before Jonathan could even reach them, Reginald stepped in his path. "Mr. Walsh, didn't you mention knowing an incredibly skilled practitioner of Ancient Medical Arts?"
With his view blocked, Jonathan hadn't noticed Paisley at first. He nodded at Reginald's question. "Yeah, that's right."
Reginald gave an apologetic smile. "Would you mind getting in touch with them?" He couldn't gamble with his father's life at a time like this.
If Charles' mentor had been anyone else, maybe Reginald could have forced himself to believe it. But this was Paisley, Dominick's ex-wife.
During her four-year marriage to Dominick, Paisley had been nothing more than a typical housewife. The idea that she could transform into some medical genius in just four years was ridiculous. No one in their right mind would buy that story.
Jonathan looked confused. "What do you mean? Isn't Mr. Hansen's mentor already here?"
'Even Mr. Hansen's mentor couldn't help him?' Jonathan wondered. 'But how could they reach that conclusion so fast?'
It had been less than ten minutes since Charles left to pick up Paisley, and Jonathan had barely finished his work before rushing over.
That was nowhere near enough time to make any real diagnosis.
"She has arrived, but..." Before Reginald could finish, Paisley's voice cut through from behind.
Paisley said, "Jonathan."
Jonathan turned to find Paisley blocked by the Vanderbilts, her face stormy with anger. Next to her stood Charles, looking like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar despite his age.
Jonathan's face lit up. "Paisley, did you come because of my message?" Unsure whether Charles' mentor could help Paul, he decided to text Paisley, just to give it a shot. He didn't go into details, not knowing if Paisley would even be willing to come.
When Paisley hadn't replied to his text, he'd assumed it was a no. Yet, here she was, standing right in front of him.
Even though they'd known each other for ages, Jonathan still felt a bit starstruck. It wasn't every day that someone like Paisley showed up personally.
"Gosh, I'm so glad you're here." Jonathan let out a huge breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. "We're counting on you to save Mr. Paul Vanderbilt now."
Finally, his old friend had a real shot at getting better.
"This..." Reginald's face froze as he watched Jonathan and Paisley talking, his mind suddenly thrown into complete chaos. "Mr. Walsh, you know each other?"
Jonathan nodded. "Yeah." He walked to Paisley's side and formally addressed the Vanderbilts. "Mr. Reginald Vanderbilt, this is who I mentioned to you before—Paisley, the practitioner of the Ancient Medical Arts."
The practitioner of the Ancient Medical Arts—Paisley. Those words hit everyone like a physical blow, leaving them stunned.
Jonathan glanced around the room before turning to Charles. "Mr. Hansen, where's your mentor?" He was about to say that if she hadn't arrived yet, or if she couldn't help, they could just forget about it.
With Paisley here, Jonathan believed that everything would be fine.
Before the words could even fully register, Charles shifted closer to Paisley. "Well, this is my mentor."
Jonathan's eyes widened in shock. 'Could something this unbelievable really happen?' Still, he adjusted quickly. After all, he knew better than anyone just how skilled Paisley really was.
If Jonathan hadn't been tied down running an entire hospital, he would've jumped at the chance to study under her himself.
Getting accepted as a practitioner to the Ancient Medical Arts wasn't something just anyone could achieve.
Earlier, everyone thought the idea of Paisley being Charles' mentor was wild. But now, with Jonathan backing it up now, they couldn't deny it anymore.
Reginald's expression kept shifting as he stared at Paisley, words catching in his throat before he could voice them.
Jonathan missed all these reactions, focused only on getting Paisley to see Paul. "Paisley, the patient's room is right this way. You—"
Paisley cut him off, "Jonathan, you've got it wrong. I won't be examining Mr. Paul Vanderbilt."
Her words dropped like a stone into still water, making everyone's hearts skip a beat.
"Why not?" Jonathan asked, completely thrown off.
Paisley adjusted her bag on her shoulder. "I don't treat people who don't trust me." She then turned to leave.
"Paisley, wait." Reginald's composure finally cracked as he called after her.
"Paisley..." Dominick's voice came out rough and quiet. "Please. Save Grandpa."
He'd called him Grandpa. Paisley felt herself tremble slightly as Paul's bright, energetic smile flashed through her mind.
Every time Paisley had called him Grandpa, Paul would beam at her with that smile, always asking, "So what are you cooking for me today, Paisley?"
Paisley turned to face Dominick. "You trust me?"
"I trust you." His voice was unwavering.
"Dom, we're talking about Grandpa's life here. We can't just gamble with it," Marissa cut in, still refusing to back down.
Dominick completely ignored Marissa's protests, his gaze fixed intently on Paisley. "Paisley, I'm begging you."
Paisley let out a deep sigh, finally giving in. "Alright, I'll try." She wasn't doing this for Dominick. This was purely for Paul, who had once shown her such warmth.
"Jonathan, let's move the patient to the operating room," Paisley said. She needed an environment with zero distractions, and in the hospital, only the OR could provide that.
As Paisley spoke, her expression shifted to one of absolute focus, her eyes filled with determination. In a single heartbeat, she had completely transformed both her mindset and her role.
At this moment, Paisley was every inch the doctor.
Dominick's eyes widened as he witnessed yet another side of Paisley he'd never seen before.
It wasn't the graceful, gentle wife and mother, not the free-spirited equestrian champion, but a doctor, commanding respect with her precise, professional demeanor.
The timing couldn't have been worse, but Dominick couldn't deny it—his heart was racing in his chest as he watched her work.