Chapter 139

The Vanderbilt family, mostly assembled for Paul’s homecoming, buzzed with conversation in the living room. Paul, in his wheelchair, watched them, a dull ache throbbing in his head. He’d much rather be back in the mountain clinic, but Dominick and Reginald had insisted on bringing him home. The recent scare had terrified them.

Reginald, in particular, felt the weight of their near-loss. He silently regretted the absence of Paisley, whose medical expertise might have prevented this crisis. But Paisley and Dominick were divorced, she had a child with another man, and Reginald wouldn't consider her return. His regret evaporated, replaced by satisfaction as he watched Marissa, Lily's daughter, gracefully manage the family. Raised among them, Marissa possessed the poise and kindness of a Vanderbilt, and a deep loyalty that reassured him.

“Hmph!” Paul snorted.

Reginald looked over. “What is it, Dad?”

Paul’s lips curled. “I said I didn’t want to come home, and now I see someone I don’t want to see. How’s that supposed to help my recovery?”

Reginald turned to see Marissa approaching, smiling. “Come on, Dad,” he said wearily. “You’re biased against Marissa. She’s a good kid.”

“Biased? Or are you blind?” Paul countered, his voice sharp despite his weakened state.

“What kind of elder…?” Reginald began, stunned.

“I’m your father,” Paul shot back, his chin lifted. “If you’re blind, I have every right to say so.”

Reginald sighed. “Fine, fine. You’re right.”

Fortunately, their argument was private, lost in the happy chaos of the gathering.

“Dad,” Reginald whispered, “Paisley and Dom are divorced. She has kids with someone else. Let it go.”

A sharp pain pricked Paul’s chest. He knew Paisley wasn’t returning to Dominick, but that didn’t mean he had to accept Marissa. He knew his influence was fading. The family, it seemed, adored Marissa, already treating her as their future matriarch. His opinion mattered little.

“Do whatever you want,” Paul finally grumbled. “Just don’t regret it.”

Reginald chuckled. “We won’t, Dad. What’s to regret?”

He’d intended to defend Marissa, but Paul’s stubbornness changed his mind. Time would prove him right.

Marissa entered, smiling. “Dom has some work. He said to eat without him.”

“Wait for him,” Ronda, Dominick’s second aunt, declared. Her husband worked overseas, leaving her to represent Harris’s family, their dependence on Dominick evident in their deference.

Lauren agreed readily, happy to wait for her son.

“I’ll keep the food warm,” Marissa offered.

“No, dear, the housekeeper will manage,” Lauren insisted, pulling Marissa to sit beside her. “This girl’s so thoughtful,” she announced to the others. “She handles everything better than I ever did!”

The message was clear. Marissa was already considered family. Her capable handling of things during Paul's illness had fueled speculation of an impending wedding.

“Lauren, when’s the wedding?” Ronda asked smoothly, her flattery aimed at both women.

Lauren’s face softened. She longed for Dominick to marry Marissa and give her a grandchild, but she wisely replied, “Their choice. I can’t interfere.”