Chapter 1

“Mrs. Vanderbilt, the food’s cold again. Reheat?” The housekeeper’s impatience was barely concealed. Paisley sat alone at the vast dining table, her solitude amplified by the cavernous room. She checked the time, then the housekeeper. “Clear it,” Paisley said, a weary smile barely touching her lips.

It was her birthday. Her husband and son hadn’t come home. The silence was deafening.

The housekeeper cleared the table, her movements sharp and angry. “Mrs. Vanderbilt, no offense, but why the feast? You knew they wouldn’t be here. Reheating this three times…exhausting! Honestly, as a wife and mother, you’re not exactly winning awards. Why are they avoiding you?”

“I’ve failed spectacularly,” Paisley replied, a bitter smile twisting her mouth. The words stung, but she lacked the energy to argue. Even the housekeeper felt free to dismiss her.

“People cling to things that don’t belong,” the housekeeper sighed, a flicker of pity in her eyes. “Let go. You’ll be doing yourself a favor.”

Paisley said nothing, but the words settled deep within her. The only sound was the clinking of dishes. The chandelier’s glow only highlighted the hollowness of the room. Her chest tightened.

The housekeeper left. Paisley switched off the lights, each movement deliberate. Cradling the cake box, she climbed the grand staircase. Her bedroom felt cold, a chill that reached her soul.

She sat on the plush sofa, moonlight painting shadows on the walls. She opened the cake box, revealing a delicate dessert—a stark contrast to the atmosphere. She lit a single candle, its flame reflecting in her tired eyes.

A WhatsApp video message shattered the silence. It showed her husband, Dominick, and son, Grayson, in a VIP hospital suite with Marissa Prescott, Dominick’s former fiancée.

Marissa’s weak voice drifted from the screen. “Dom, sorry to keep you…” Dominick’s reply was warm, gentle, a tenderness Paisley hadn’t heard in years.

“He’s been with her all day!” Paisley thought, a faint smile playing on her lips. She couldn’t remember the last time Dominick had spoken to her without irritation. A bitter pang twisted in her chest. When had his voice turned into a weapon?

Grayson’s soft voice followed. “Daddy and I love staying here with you. We don’t wanna go home.”

Then, the dagger: “I love having Marissa around. I wish she was my mommy.”

The video ended. Paisley’s hands trembled. The candle flickered. She blew it out. “Happy birthday to me,” she whispered.

Dominick arrived well past midnight. The house was dark—unusual. A light was always left on for him. His brow furrowed. He handed Grayson to the housekeeper and strode to the master bedroom. He saw light under the door, his grim expression softening slightly.

Paisley sat upright on the sofa, her posture composed. Beside her: a packed suitcase. On the coffee table: a divorce agreement.

Dominick’s relief vanished. “Paisley, what is this? Another one of your stunts?”

Paisley stood her ground. “Dominick, I want a divorce.”

He sighed, his fatigue evident. His gaze fell on the cake, its candle burnt down. “It’s your birthday,” he said, disbelief laced with guilt. He’d forgotten.

“It doesn’t matter,” Paisley said, pushing the agreement toward him. “Sign it.”

Dominick’s irritation flared. “Why? Because I forgot your birthday? Melodramatic!” He flipped through the agreement, sneering. “You ask for nothing? Where would you go without me?”

A bitter laugh escaped Paisley. He thinks I’m trapped, she thought. He thinks I have nowhere to go.

She laughed coldly. “Where I go is none of your concern. Sign the papers and meet me at City Hall tomorrow.”

Dominick’s temper flared. “Have you thought this through?”

Paisley tossed the pen onto the table. “Sign it.”

For a moment, he faltered. Her unwavering determination stunned him. He sighed. “Fine. Divorce it is. But Sonny’s custody…that’s off the table.”

Grayson burst in, clinging to Dominick’s arm. “I’m staying with Daddy! You’re a horrible mom!”

“Grayson, enough,” Dominick snapped.

But Paisley cut him off. “I don’t care about Grayson. I don’t care about anything. I just want a divorce.”

Dominick was stunned. He couldn’t forget her sacrifices for Grayson. And now, this?

Even Grayson was silenced, then a bitter smile crept onto his face. “Good. Daddy, hurry up and divorce her. Then Marissa can be my mommy.”

Dominick ignored Grayson, his gaze fixed on Paisley. “Are you absolutely sure?”

Paisley met his eyes. “Yes.”

She watched him sign. She picked up her copy. “9:00 am tomorrow. City Hall. Don’t be late.”

As she reached for her suitcase, Dominick seized her wrist. His touch, once captivating, now felt like shackles.

“Let go,” she said icily.

Dominick smirked. “In such a hurry to leave? Got yourself a lover?”

Exhaustion washed over Paisley. “Dominick, I have never hated you more.”

His grip loosened. “It’s late. Wait until morning.”

She pulled her hand away. “I’m going.”

She left. The sound of the door closing echoed in the emptiness of the house—a house that had imprisoned her for four years. Her departure felt like breaking free, but the weight of her pain lingered.

Chapter 2