"This one, that one, and the pink one too." Paisley pointed lazily at a few handbags as the sales assistant rushed to take them down.

"Ma'am, would you like me to wrap these up for you?"

"Nope, just leave these out. Wrap up all the rest and send them to Rosepine Estate, No. 85."

"W-Wait, ma'am, are you serious?"

The assistant's face was full of disbelief. In response, Paisley pulled out a black credit card and handed it over. It was a limited edition worldwide, a secondary card Clive had given her on the second day of their marriage. The main card, of course, was still with him.

She used to think she was above all this. Never touched the card in her past life. But now? No need to play nice anymore.

According to the info she dug up, Clive couldn't stand gold-digging women. So hey, maybe this was her shot. Right now he was stuck in his sweet little fairy-tale romance with his one true love, so if she went all-in as the "material girl" and even hung out with other guys, maybe, just maybe, he'd snap and file for divorce.

Lucas, who had been tagging along beside her, gave her a thumbs up. "You're in a league of your own when it comes to spending money. Other women can't even compete."

Paisley raised an eyebrow. "Jealous much?"

Lucas chuckled, shaking his head. He knew exactly what she was scheming. After all, Paisley's secrets weren't really secrets to him - he had full access.

"You're really that eager to split with Clive?" he asked.

Damn right.

She had to get out of this marriage. Who knew if Clive would one day try to swallow Hughes Group whole? She needed to cut ties ASAP and take over from her grandfather.

"Quit nagging. I'm already annoyed. Just get moving on the stuff I asked - Ethan's company accounts. Don't slack."

"Relax, when have I ever messed up a job you gave me? So, what's next on your evil genius list?" Lucas was dying to know what she had in mind, family drama and all.

"Time to take off the mask. Didn't the guy say he hated jealous, overdramatic women? I'm gonna make a scene, go full drama queen, cry, scream, threaten - everything. Divorce, here I come."

*****

Back at the office, Clive was in the middle of a meeting when his phone buzzed with a credit card alert. He glanced down at the number and blinked.

Uh... what did his wife just buy?

It's not like he cared about the money. But that kind of shopping spree? Totally out of character for Paisley.

The meeting was about this year's new investment projects. Tiffany Evans came over and handed him a cup of blue mountain coffee, trying to keep him alert.

Just as things heated up, a sudden ringtone cut through the serious atmosphere.

Everyone fell dead silent.

Clive picked up. The voice on the other end? Cold. Sharp. All edge.

"Clive Harrington, get home. Now."

She used his full name - with the kind of tone that made grown men want to vanish.

"I'm in a meeting," Clive explained, oddly calm, a small smirk tugging at his lips.

"Did I stutter? I said now." Paisley doubled down, taking unreasonable to a whole new level.

"Fine. Wait for me." Clive ended the call, paused the meeting, and told his assistant to arrange for a ride home - leaving a room full of execs too afraid to even breathe.

Clive showed up out of the blue, totally catching Paisley off guard. She'd stirred up trouble on purpose, having confirmed with Patrick that Clive was stuck in a super important meeting.

The whole call had just been her trying to push his buttons - get on his nerves, make him hate her.

But what happened?

Now Paisley was sitting cross-legged on the sofa, locking eyes with Clive. Her mind blanked hard - she couldn't even find the words. In the end, he spoke up first.

"You seemed desperate to talk. What's the urgency?" Clive stood there with that same frosty expression, like the world owed him something.

"I want a divorce." Paisley took a second to gather herself, then went all in with her drama mode.

"Care to explain why?" Clive raised an eyebrow, completely unshaken, like none of this was surprising.

What Paisley didn't know was Patrick had already spilled everything to Clive. Her wild act? Totally pointless.

"You went to that couple's restaurant with your precious ex, right? The one you have to book a week in advance? That's cheating while married. I think I've got every right to walk." Her accusations came out sharp and clear - but the guy barely reacted.

"Who are you talking about?" Clive frowned slightly. "Which ex?"

"You've gotta be kidding me. The one who cried like she was auditioning for a soap at our wedding! Don't act clueless now. What, you think I'm that naive?" Paisley shot back, clearly hoping he'd finally drop it and just admit he's still into someone else. That maybe he'd say, "You're too much, we're done." But nope. Nothing.

"It was just dinner, not a death sentence." Clive said it like this was no biggie - like dinner with another woman while married was as casual as ordering takeout.

Paisley couldn't believe how calm he was - talk about infuriating. She jumped off the sofa, slid into her slippers and declared, "I'm not asking for your opinion. I'm telling you - we're getting divorced."

Then she stormed off to the master bedroom to pack like she was leaving for good.

She'd almost finished when Clive, still maddeningly calm, leaned against the doorframe and said, "Grandpa wants us home for dinner tonight. Get changed. It's almost time to head out."

What?!

Paisley blinked. She spoke English, right? Did Clive suddenly forget how to process words?

Based on everything Patrick ever said about Clive - and what she'd known about him before - she was sure this kind of crazy would at least spark some anger.

But nope. Not even annoyance. The guy was just... shameless now?

Without even glancing his way, Paisley grabbed her suitcase and headed for the door. Except, it was heavy as hell, got stuck by the bed, and before she could move it again, Clive had already stepped in and wrapped an arm around her waist.

Then, just like that, she was hoisted up and dumped back on the massive bed.

"What the hell are you doing?" Paisley's eyes flared as she glared at him - this man had seriously lost it.

"Think about your dad's company - Hughes Group. Your mom begging us to stay together. Our marriage isn't just about us. The whole Harrington dowry went into patching up the holes in your family's business. You really think you get to decide alone?"

After hearing all that, Paisley finally got it. Divorce? Not her call. Clive was the one holding the cards here. Furious, she mumbled under her breath, "You manipulative jerk. Always playing me like a damn chess piece."

"You've got five minutes to get ready," Clive said, his voice lazy but laced with heat. "Or I'll come in and help you dress - though I can't promise we'll make it out on time."

Paisley chucked a pillow at him.

"Get out! I need to change!" she snapped.

Clive left with a grin he tried to hide. Not long after, the butler approached him. "Sir, the bags Mrs. Hughes bought today... there's no space left in storage. Should we use one of the guest rooms for now?"

Bags?

Clive finally figured out what all that credit card swiping went toward. Ah, the good ol' healing power of handbags.

He nodded, then watched as the staff carried in luxury bag after luxury bag - each one worth tens of thousands - into a guest room.

Paisley stepped out just in time to catch sight of her precious collection being carted away.

"Hold on, keep three here. I'm taking them with me," she ordered. After all, they were heading to the Harrington family home, and Clive's three sisters-in-law were nothing if not cunning.

In her past life, she had suffered thanks to her bluntness - this time, she wasn't about to let them get the upper hand.

"You feeling the pinch yet? Emotional pain or just your wallet crying? Either way, it's your black card I used," she said, eyeing Clive and shifting into full taunt mode.

But he didn't take the bait.

"Husband makes money, wife spends it. That's how it's supposed to go," he shot back smoothly.

If Paisley was aiming to trigger him, she missed. Instead, she ended up being the one flustered by his teasing.

"What are you sitting there for? Be useful and carry those bags to the car!" she huffed, not bothering to hide her irritation.

She might play the villain today, but Clive clearly had no intention of backing out. And with the Harrington clan looming on the horizon, she had zero time to coddle his feelings.

Honestly, she should've bought more - next time she needed him to really feel it.

*****

"Sir, madam, this way please," the Harrington family butler said politely. He'd been waiting outside the ancestral home to greet them - they were newlyweds, and Clive was the current head of the family. Respect was mandatory.

It was Paisley's second time here, apart from the wedding. Clive had three older brothers, and not a single one of their wives was easy to deal with.

Paisley linked arms with Clive like the perfect newlywed couple. They looked like they were still very much in that honeymoon phase.

During dinner, Clive held up the gentleman act well - he even pulled out her chair. Honestly, Paisley had to admit, his acting was Oscar-worthy.

Still, she wasn't one to be outplayed easily. It didn't matter if the rest of the family didn't like her - if she could get on Grandpa Alfred Harrington's good side, she'd be golden.

But watching Clive so smug, she couldn't help whispering in his ear, "Wanna get scolded by Grandpa?"

She was referring to that lunch Clive had with his ex. If she decided to rat him out to Grandpa, he'd be toast.

Clive casually picked up a piece of beef for Paisley and, in a low voice only she could hear, said, "Easy now. I'll make it up to you with a limited edition bag later."

Thinking he'd finally panicked, Paisley smirked with satisfaction.

What she didn't realize was that every person at that table had their eyes on them - and from the way the two of them were leaning close and whispering, everyone just assumed this newlywed couple was totally smitten.