From Forgotten Wife To Fierce Queen - Chapter 8: Chapter 8

The sight of Paisley holding a young girl in her arms sent a sharp flicker of tension through Marissa's usually composed gaze.
Marissa's mind raced as she struggled to process what she was seeing. 'Why does she have a child with her? Whose child is this? Judging by her age, she must be around three years old.'
"Do you know that little girl?" Marissa's voice tightened, the edge of disbelief creeping in.
Stella nodded solemnly. "Uh—huh. That naughty kid clung to Sonny yesterday, saying she was Sonny's little sister."
'Little sister? Could it be...' Marissa forced herself to maintain composure as her thoughts spiraled. "And did Grayson believe her?"
"Of course not," Stella replied confidently, her chin lifting in defiance. "Aunt Marissa, didn't you say that every kid who tried to get close to Sonny in school had an ulterior motive? That was exactly what I told Sonny yesterday, and now he can't stand her."
Stella paused, her voice tinged with smug satisfaction, "Plus, I hit her yesterday. She deserved it for shamelessly trying to hold Sonny's hand. Aunt Marissa, wasn't I right to do that?"
Marissa exhaled slowly, her mind whirling. 'So Grayson doesn't know this child. That's one relief.'
"You did the right thing," Marissa affirmed, her voice steady as she masked her unease. Encouraged, she pressed on. "Did Grayson happen to see this lady's face?"
Stella shook her head. "No, he only saw her back yesterday. I didn't even see her face until just now."
"Why do you ask, Aunt Marissa?" She tilted her head in confusion. 'Could it be that Aunt Marissa is worried this pretty lady might win Sonny over?'
Sensing her aunt's tension, Stella quickly added, "Don't worry. Sonny loves you. You're his favorite. He keeps saying he can't wait for you to marry Dominick so you can be his mom."
Her attempt to reassure Marissa only deepened her aunt's unease.
Marissa couldn't help but wonder, 'So far, it seems Grayson hasn't met Paisley. But with both children attending the same school, it's only a matter of time. And that little girl... Is she Paisley and Dominick's child? Or someone else's? Paisley, you scheming wretch. I've underestimated you.'
Before Marissa could dwell further, Stella's cheerful voice snapped her out of her daze.
"Aunt Marissa, bye. I'm going in now," Stella's bright tone interrupted Marissa's thoughts.
The school bell was about to ring, and Stella had just unbuckled her seatbelt, ready to hop out of the car, when Marissa stopped her.
"Stella," Marissa said steadily, "you did a great job yesterday."
At that, Stella's face lit up with pride. Her little chin lifted, and her twin pigtails bobbed happily as she beamed at the praise.
"That girl is getting close to him for a reason, and it's not a good one," Marissa added, her tone turning serious. "You need to keep protecting Sonny. Don't let her anywhere near him."
Stella nodded eagerly, her expression solemn. "Don't worry, Aunt Marissa. I'll make sure of it. And anyway, she's just a new kid in kindergarten—a little dummy. Nothing to worry about."
Marissa allowed herself a faint smile at Stella's confidence. 'True, she's just a child. Even if she has some ulterior motive, what could she do?'
Marissa's tone turned unusually serious as she looked at Stella. "Do you really want Grayson to find another best friend? Someone who might replace you?"
The weight of her words hit Stella like a bucket of cold water. She immediately protested, her voice high-pitched with alarm, "No way. Sonny only has me as his best friend."
Marissa shook her head slowly, as if mulling over a deeper truth. "That little kid is really cute—cuter than you."
Though young, Stella wasn't naive. She understood the implication beneath Marissa's statement.
Stella thought, 'That little brat is cuter than me. If she sticks around long enough, Sonny might start liking her, maybe even treating her like family.
'And yesterday... when she tried to hold Sonny's hand, he already started to reach out. They almost held hands.'
Stella's little face tensed with determination, her brows furrowed in fierce defiance. "No. I don't want Sonny to have another best friend."
She tugged urgently at Marissa's sleeve, her voice pleading. "Aunt Marissa, what should I do? Can you talk to Dominick and have him get rid of that brat?"
Her eyes sparkled with hope, as if expecting Marissa to sweep the problem away like she always had with troublesome kids at school and kick Serena out.
But this time, Marissa merely smiled, her expression unreadable. She didn't directly answer Stella's request, "You're going to be late, Stella. You'd better get going."
Some battles didn't require too much prodding. This time was different. This "problem child" wasn't just anyone—she was Paisley's daughter. And for now, Marissa didn't want to alert Dominick unnecessarily.
"Mommy, Mommy. Let me go. I'm going to be late." Serena squirmed in Paisley's arms, her small frame wriggling like a fish trying to slip out of a net.
Paisley's heart ached with guilt. She was still beating herself up over missing pick-up yesterday, leaving her little girl waiting at school. But now, seeing Serena's eagerness to escape her embrace, a pang of sadness replaced the guilt.
"Rena, are you not gonna miss Mommy at all?" Paisley asked, her voice tinged with both frustration and sorrow.
"I am." Serena nodded earnestly, her big eyes shining with sincerity. "But I have to go to kindergarten, Mommy. All the other parents are already gone. You should go too. I need to face the world on my own, you know."
Her words, spoken with an air of wisdom far beyond her years, left Paisley torn between laughing and crying.
"Alright, alright," Paisley sighed, smoothing her daughter's hair. "But if anything happens at school, promise me you'll tell the teachers right away, okay? Don't let anyone bully you." Her thoughts wandered to what Maria had said about that little boy. A flicker of worry crossed her face.
Serena nodded, her little head bobbing decisively. But inside, her thoughts were racing. 'Should I tell Mommy I met my brother? No... he doesn't seem to like me yet. I'll wait until he does before I'll tell her.'
Paisley held her close, planting kisses on Serena's chubby cheeks for what felt like forever. Finally, with great reluctance, she handed her over to the teacher.
The moment Serena's feet touched the ground, she bolted off like an excited puppy let off its leash, grabbing the teacher's hand and tugging her toward the school building.
She had no time to waste. Early this morning, before leaving for school, she had sneaked into Paisley's art studio and swiped the portrait of Grayson. Tucked safely in her backpack, it was her secret weapon.
She couldn't wait to find Grayson later and show him the drawing. 'I'll prove to him I wasn't lying yesterday. I have seen him before.'
Meanwhile, Paisley watched her daughter's retreating figure with a puzzled smile. She couldn't help but wonder what on earth was so captivating about kindergarten that had Serena so eager to leave her side after just one day.
A boy, no older than seven, dashed past Paisley, his small legs carrying him toward the school building in eager strides. Behind him, his mom called out anxiously, her voice laced with care and caution.
Paisley's gaze lingered on the boy's retreating figure, and an unexpected thought surfaced. 'Grayson must be about his height now, right? I wonder... if he has started school yet.'
A bittersweet smile tugged at her lips as her imagination wandered further. 'But knowing Dominick, there's no way he'd send Sonny to a place like this.'
The office was hushed, save for the faint ticking of a clock on the wall. Dominick had just wrapped up an international call and now reclined on the sleek leather sofa, his eyes closed briefly as if trying to steal a moment's rest.
The quiet was interrupted by his secretary, who entered with a soft knock, asking what he'd like to drink.
"Coffee," Dominick said without hesitation.
Julian, standing nearby, frowned slightly, "You should cut back on coffee. It's bad for your stomach."
The comment earned no response as the secretary returned moments later with a steaming cup of coffee. Dominick accepted it, cradling the mug and sipping his coffee as he finally turned his attention to his phone.
Unread messages filled his inbox, but before he could sift through them, the screen lit up with Kayla's name. It was her twelfth call.
Dominick's brow furrowed in annoyance, but after a moment's pause, he chose to answer.
On the other end, Kayla's voice was anything but patient. "Dominick, I've been calling you since last night. Why haven't you answered?"
He held the phone slightly away from his ear, her sharp tone grating on his nerves. "Stop yelling. If you have something to say, say it," he said.
"Dominick," Kayla spat, her voice dripping with venom, "that wretch Paisley is back, isn't she?"
Dominick's jaw tightened as he frowned, his voice dropping to a dangerous calm, "Kayla, how many times do I have to tell you? Don't call her that. She's your sister-in-law."
"Sister-in-law? You're divorced. Or did you forget?" Kayla's laugh was scornful. "Has she come crawling back to you already?"
"She hasn't. Stop imagining things," Dominick replied coldly, his lips curving into a bitter smirk. 'If anything, Paisley would rather stay as far away from me as possible. She'd probably erase me from her life if she could.'
"Good." Kayla sounded satisfied.
"Is there anything else?"
"That's cold. What, I can't call my own brother just to chat?"
"If that's all, I'm hanging up."
"Wait, wait. I do have something. Did you find that pigment artist I asked for? You promised me last time you'd help."
In her expansive studio, Kayla sat by the window, her impatience evident as she gazed at an unfinished canvas. "My idol, Nion Vaire, just completed an amazing mineral pigment painting. I want to replicate it."
Dominick's mind briefly drew a blank. The sheer volume of responsibilities on his plate every day had pushed such trivial requests to the back of his mind. "Got it. I'll handle it soon," he said dismissively.
The mention of painting stirred an old memory. He recalled how much Paisley used to love drawing. Whenever she had free time at home, she would draw a couple of simple sketches.
In those early days of their marriage, she would sit with him in the study at night, her carbon pencil in hand. While he worked, she would sketch whatever caught her eyes—the view from the window, trinkets around the house, and most often, him.
But as time passed, those sketches had stopped.
A dull ache settled in his chest. Turning to Julian, he ordered, "Look into what Paisley's been up to since she returned to Harrowfell."
Dominick's thoughts wandered again to last night. She had mentioned a work dinner.
Julian nodded, his response crisp. "Understood. I'll get on it immediately."