Chapter 9

Paisley, holding a young girl, made Mariya tense. Marissa’s mind raced. "Why's she got a kid? How old is she… three?"

"Do you know that girl?" Marissa’s voice sharpened.

Stella nodded solemnly. "Yeah. That kid clung to Sonny yesterday, said she was his sister."

"Sister? Could it be...?" Marissa fought for composure. "Did Grayson believe her?"

"Of course not," Stella said, chin lifted. "Aunt Marissa, you said every kid near Sonny had an ulterior motive! That's what I told Sonny, and now he hates her. I even hit her yesterday! She deserved it for trying to hold his hand. Wasn't I right?"

Marissa breathed slowly. "Grayson doesn't know this child. That's a relief." "Did Grayson see this woman's face?"

Stella shook her head. "No, just her back. I didn't see her face until now."

"Why do you ask?" Stella tilted her head. "Is it because she might steal Sonny? Don't worry, Sonny loves you! He wants you to marry Dominick so you can be his mom."

This only worried Marissa more. Grayson hasn't met Paisley. But with both kids at the same school... Is that girl Paisley and Dominick's child? Paisley, you scheming wretch!

Stella’s cheerful, "Aunt Marissa, bye! I'm going in now," broke through Marissa's thoughts.

The bell was about to ring. Stella unbuckled her seatbelt. Marissa stopped her. "Stella," she said steadily, "you did great yesterday."

Stella beamed.

"That girl's getting close to him for a reason, and it's not good," Marissa said seriously. "Protect Sonny. Keep her away."

Stella nodded eagerly. "Don't worry, Aunt Marissa. She's just a kindergarten dummy. Nothing to worry about."

Marissa smiled faintly. "Do you really want Grayson to find another best friend? Someone who might replace you?"

Stella gasped. "No way! Sonny only loves me as his best friend!"

Marissa shook her head. "That little kid is really cute—cuter than you. She might start liking her, even treating her like family."

Stella’s face tightened. "No, I don't want Sonny to have another best friend!" She tugged at Marissa’s sleeve. "Aunt Marissa, what should I do? Can you talk to Dominick and get rid of that brat?"

Marissa smiled, her expression unreadable. "You're going to be late, Stella. You'd better get going."

This was different. This wasn't just any child; she was Paisley's daughter. For now, Marissa wouldn't alert Dominick.