The Billionaire And His Son Want Me Back by Juliette Vaughan

Chapter 2

Chapter 2

The airport buzzed with activity, a symphony of distant announcements, hurried footsteps, and rolling suitcases blending into the steady hum of life. Crowds ebbed and flowed in a rhythm that was both chaotic and strangely orderly.

The cool, filtered air carried faint traces of coffee and jet fuel, grounding Paisley in the reality of her impending departure.

Her flight had begun boarding. Just as she was about to step forward to hand her boarding pass to the attendant, her phone buzzed insistently in her pocket.

She slid her ticket across the counter and answered the call without checking the caller ID. But before she could say a word, Grayson's young voice shrilled through the speaker. "I want rainbow pasta!"

Paisley paused mid-step, glancing down at the phone. It was Dominick's number.

"There's frozen pasta in the fridge," she replied coolly, her voice even and detached. She collected her boarding pass and continued walking toward the gate.

"The nanny said it's all gone." Grayson's voice climbed in pitch, sharp and grating the way children's voices do when they're on the verge of a tantrum.

Paisley's lips tightened. She'd worked hard to instill discipline in Grayson, especially when it came to shouting or making demands in public. But this naughty boy had his father's stubborn streak, and lately, her corrections only seemed to irritate him further.

Her tone remained indifferent as she replied with a frown, "Then it's gone."

"That's not fair," Grayson wailed. His voice rose again, teetering on the edge of a full-blown fit. "Come back right now and make it for me. I want it now."

Paisley inhaled slowly, her grip on her phone firm but calm. "Ask your precious Marissa to make it for you," she said, her voice laced with an edge that cut through his whining.

The line went silent for a few heartbeats, but it wasn't long before Grayson's crying and howling began in earnest, loud enough that Paisley had to hold the phone slightly away from her ear.

After a muffled scuffle on the other end, Dominick's deep, irritated voice finally came through. "Paisley, why are you picking a fight with a child? He's just a kid. He doesn't understand."

By this point, Paisley had stepped into the cabin, her heels clicking softly against the carpeted aisle. She flashed a polite smile at the flight attendant and handed over her handbag before settling into her seat in first class.

Reclining slightly, she adjusted her tone to one of detached finality. "If a child doesn't understand, then surely the adults should, don't you think?"

Her mind drifted as the seatbelt light blinked on. Grayson hadn't always been this way. Up until the age of two, he'd been a sweet, clingy little boy who adored her, proudly declaring to anyone who'd listen that his mother was the best in the world.

'When did that start to change?' she wondered. The answer came to her with a pang of bitterness. 'It must have been when Marissa came back to Harrowfell.'

Everything Paisley had forbidden, Marissa would indulge. If Paisley said no to candy, Marissa would slip it to him behind her back. If Paisley enforced bedtime rules, Marissa would sneak him out for late-night games.

At first, the Vanderbilt family had always looked down upon Paisley. Slowly but surely, their obvious preference for Marissa over Paisley began to seep into Grayson's perception. In his young,

impressionable mind, Paisley had been recast as a villain-a meddling outsider, a scheming woman who broke up the family.

firmly, "we're divorced now. There's no reason for us to keep in touch anymore." Without waiting for

Paisley stared out the window, the city shrinking beneath her until it was no more than a

the engines steadying her frayed nerves. 'It's over,' she

*****

inside the director's office at the prestigious Harrowfell Hospital, the room exuded

no interest in conforming to the room's dignified atmosphere. With her legs casually crossed in an unbothered fashion, she lounged on the plush sofa, leaning back as if she owned the place. She exuded an effortless charm, her casual demeanor oddly

strolled over with a wry smile. He patted Paisley gently on the head.

and grudgingly straightened up, though the playful glint in her eyes remained. She reached into her chic leather tote and pulled out a small, neatly packaged bag of herbal tea.

difficult to mix, but the ingredients were another matter entirely rare

the most thoughtful kid I know. My health practically depends on your herbal concoctions these days. Sit tight. I'll pour you some of the

careful sip, her discerning palate immediately

but probing. "Paisy, how

setting the cup down on the coffee table with

and the production was set to start filming locally. As the lead writer, she

back here to see some patients? Maybe teach a few students while

said, cutting him off with

into joining

mouth to press the issue further, but before he could get a word out, Paisley's phone

pretending the call was urgent. Within moments, she was making her exit, leaving

administrative director knocked and stepped into the room. "Mr. Walsh, Mr. Vanderbilt is here

His gaze immediately fell on

the room, unmistakably from an exclusive roast. One look at the

got you to bring out the top-tier coffee you usually don't

expression as casual as his tone, "Who else could it

been talking about?" Jonathan nodded, taking another sip of his coffee. "Too bad you missed her. If you'd come a little earlier, you

declining these past few years, so

down with a soft clink, "Strange. I remember you being in great shape a few years ago. When did things

"About four years ago,

when Dominick's divorce drama began. Ever since then, Paul had been caught in a daily storm of frustration, anger, and stress. The

his curiosity piqued. "You look

My grandson, Dominick, gave me a ride over." Paul, ever relaxed, shrugged off his suit jacket and tossed it carelessly onto the nearest chair, making himself at home.

*****

corner, idly scrolling through her phone

[The Vanderbilt family's heir is spotted with a mystery woman late

photos accompanying the articles were enough for her to immediately recognize the figures. One

getting married, huh?' Paisley's lips curled into a cold smile as her thumb froze

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