Clive's mom had health issues, so right after the wedding, they headed overseas for her to recuperate.

So after dinner, the men all put on a decent show - chatting and laughing their way out of the room. That left the tea-talk to be handled by the three sisters-in-law.

"Paisley, eat more meat, will you? You're way too skinny. It's not great for having babies, y'know. Grandpa's dying to hold his great-grandkid." That was Clive's eldest sister-in-law talking. She might be from a prestigious family herself, but her words? Syrupy on the surface, barbed underneath.

"Oh, come on. You can't say stuff like that. I can't afford to end up like you - totally wrecked my figure. Not everyone looks good aging like that, right? No offense." Paisley had been polite to them in her past life, figuring there was no point making waves since she hadn't planned to stay with Clive long-term.

But now? Different story. When it comes to women like these, if you don't show some teeth, they'll just see you as a pushover.

Everyone knew Clive's oldest brother had a bad habit of cycling through starlets like he was harvesting crops - nonstop.

"Oh, how things have changed. You used to be the picture of obedience and manners - your father never shut up about how well you knew your place. And now? After draining Clive's wallet to patch up your family's financial mess, you've finally wormed your way into the Harringtons. Though let's be honest, Clive's heart was never yours to begin with. But hey, with you playing house, I suppose he has to keep his little flings in check - for now."

This came from the second sister-in-law, who leaned hard on her family's backing and rarely thought before speaking. Basically, she was the kind of person you could easily throw under the bus.

She was flat-out implying Clive had feelings for someone else - and that Paisley only managed to "lock things down" because she could keep his wandering heart in check.

"Oh, you're so right," Paisley replied with a smile that didn't reach her eyes. "As long as Clive spoils me, I'm good. Just before we got here, he even asked if I had enough spending money - and then handed over his secondary credit card."

Right now, her biggest leverage was Clive's affection, and she had zero intention of letting that go to waste.

Noticing the skeptical look on Second Sis-in-law's face, she called out casually, "Jane, bring up the gifts I prepared for them. If any of you aren't digging the ones I picked, feel free to swap them in my room. Honestly, the storage's overflowing. Some are still stacked in the guest room. Don't be shy!"

I mean, who doesn't love a good handbag?

Sure, buying one with your own money is one thing, but buying loads using your husband's card? Now that hits different.

Third sister-in-law was the sharp type, though. She kept a cool distance and didn't join the mean-girl energy.

Later, needing some air, Paisley stepped outside to the garden. All that small talk had really frayed her mood. She stared up at the pale moon for a long while, trying to settle herself.

"Out here moon-gazing, Mrs. Harrington?" Clive's voice teased gently as he strolled over. Talking to his brothers had been just as exhausting for him, by the look on his face.

"Please don't bug me. I'd like some peace." The second she saw him, the irritation flared again - especially after Second Sis-in-law had said her dad patched his debts with Clive's money. The nerve.

Not that she could say it outright.

"Grandpa says to come in for some food he had the kitchen make," Clive said, casual but sincere. Grandpa Alfred really did like Paisley a lot - enough to send Clive out to fetch her personally.

"I'll pass. I might accidentally tell Grandpa you've got a mistress on the side." Paisley's tone was deliberately sharp.

Yep, she wanted to call out Clive's sweet little first-love romance as what it really was: cheating. Let's see if he liked that.

And if things blew up over it? Even better. Perfect excuse for a clean break.

"So, you're jealous now?" Clive never played by the script she laid out.

Every little trap she thought would catch him? He dodged them all like a pro.

Jealous? So was this him basically admitting he had something going on with his precious first love? And he still refused to divorce her? Classic jerk move - textbook gaslighting.

Paisley took a deep breath, trying to calm herself down. If not, she might just lose it and punch him right there.

"Clive, you rejected all my proposals before, so how about this - I'll pay back that money you patched into my dad's company. Deal?" Paisley tried to sound reasonable. "Please, just divorce me already. That way, your dear first love won't have to carry the mistress label. Makes sense, right?"

She kept bringing up his beloved first love just to slam reality in his face.

And what happened?

Clive acted like she hadn't said a single thing. He walked over slowly, grabbed her hand like they were some lovey-dovey couple, and said near her ear, "You've got one minute to fix your resting face. We're going home for soup."

Seriously?

Paisley thought he was absolutely nuts and had no interest in humoring him. She started walking off on her own.

But he didn't let go. In fact, the guy even started counting down. "Eight, seven... three, two..."

Paisley was fuming, but she didn't dare actually start a full-on fight with him. After all, she'd been locked up by him in a past life - she'd had quite enough of that. So, pissed off and puffed up, she followed him back inside for soup.

Naturally, once they were at the dining table with Grandpa Harrington, Paisley wore her best graceful-wife face. Played the part well, even called Clive out with a sweet passive-aggressive twist, and Grandpa totally laid into him. He got chewed out like crazy.

After they got back to the villa from the Harrington family estate, Clive moved his stuff into the master bedroom.

Said it was because real couples don't sleep separately. Before, he let her have the master because she insisted they had no romantic connection. Now? Not only was he moving in without asking, the man had a key and everything - just barged in with his stuff.

Paisley thought about switching rooms, but he shut that down fast and even threatened to follow her into whatever room she tried to escape to.

So now, here they were, sharing a bed. Didn't do anything, didn't talk. Paisley just straight-up ignored him.

If there was one upside to living with Clive, it was that the man could cook. The next morning, he went into the kitchen and made a full breakfast of all her favorites, then came to wake her.

"You're coming to the office with me today," Clive said like it was totally reasonable. "Didn't you tell Grandpa last night that I was messing around at work? As my wife, you better supervise me properly."

Paisley didn't move.

When he came back from the kitchen, she was still hiding under the covers, dead silent.

Clive didn't get worked up or anything. He just said, calm as ever, "Lobster omelette with parmesan's getting cold. If you're not getting up, I'll eat it all. Don't worry - I'll tell the housekeeper to toss you a sandwich later."

Lobster vs. sandwich? No contest.

Muttering bitterly under her breath, Paisley dragged herself out of bed, shot Clive a death glare, rushed to wash up, and then headed straight for the lobster omelette.

Clive, meanwhile, was kind of offended. He felt like he was actually jealous - of lobster omelette.

Apparently, in Paisley's eyes, he ranked lower than breakfast.

After breakfast, Paisley was planning to swing by her place. Her cold-as-ice mom had been texting non-stop, nagging her to come back.

But Clive insisted she go to the office with him. Said he had a manager role lined up for her there.

"I've got stuff to handle this morning. I'll head over later," Paisley tossed back without even glancing his way, already gearing up to head home.

Then, right before he left, Clive just straight-up planted a kiss on her cheek. Paisley stiffened, eyeing him like he'd grown another head.

What the heck was that about? Playing both sides now?

Clive, totally unfazed by her guarded vibe, looked smitten. "Gotta get a goodbye kiss from my wife before leaving. Pretty sure today's gonna be a money-maker."

Sweet talker, huh.

Once he left, Paisley grabbed a cab and went back to her mom's. Only her mom and Olivia were home, and the second she walked in, she saw the usual scene - her mom fawning over Olivia like she was royalty.

"Olivia, drink your milk - I've reheated it three times. You have a weak stomach, you can't skip breakfast." Sophia Green was hovering like a maid, cup in hand.

Paisley didn't even bother reacting and headed into the living room. "You wanted to see me?"

Her voice was steady, but watching that scene still stung.

"Oh? Look who's back. Mrs. Harrington graces us with her presence," Olivia sneered, sauntering over with that milk like she owned the place.

Paisley didn't even blink at her. Just gave Olivia a cool once-over. She came for one thing - her grandpa's necklace. She'd left in a rush after the wedding and didn't bring it.

So she just shot Olivia a dismissive look and headed upstairs.

That set Olivia off. She shrieked, "There's no room for you upstairs anymore! Your stuff's already been dumped in the storage. Why would someone married off bother coming back anyway?"

Sure enough, Paisley checked the room - empty.

She sighed and went down to grab the necklace from the storage room. Just as she picked it up, Olivia smacked it out of her hand.

"Acting like you're hot stuff for some cheap necklace? Please. You trashy little lovechild, don't get cocky." Olivia hissed, venom dripping from every word.

Paisley turned her eyes to Sophia.

As expected, even after bending over backwards for Olivia, Sophia still couldn't earn her respect. All that bootlicking for nothing.

"What're you looking at her for? You think she's gonna back you up?" Olivia had been bullying Paisley for years and was even more brazen now.

Sophia quickly jumped in with her usual excuse. "Paisley, just let it go, okay? Don't argue with your sister, she didn't mean it. Don't make her upset."

Paisley wasn't shocked. Sophia spent years trying to become Mrs. Hughes, begging for approval, only to get kicked out by her granddad. She'd squatted in the Hughes' house ever since, nameless and unwanted.

If it hadn't been for Grandpa leaving stocks in Paisley's name before he died, chances were she wouldn't even have had a right to this house.

But that was all in the past.

Today, she was here to make one thing clear - Paisley wasn't the pushover she used to be.

So when her slap landed, loud and unapologetic, Olivia's head snapped to the side like a broken doll.

Eyes wide, lips trembling, she looked like she'd seen a ghost - one that remembered every dirty little thing she did.