Mia's POVThomas looked at me. So sincere. "Of course," he said, his tone controlled."Scarlett seems to have some... ideas about us," I continued, choosing my words . "About you and me. I just want to make sure we're on the same page.""Ah." The single syllable revealed nothing of his thoughts. "Scarlett's matchmaking efforts haven't gone unnoticed, then."I laughed softly, relieved he wasn't pretending ignorance. "They're about as subtle as a billboard in Times Square."He took a sip of coffee. "My sister has many talents. Subtlety has never been among them.""No, it hasn't." I took a sip of water, gathering my thoughts. I'm afraid I'm imagining things. But I have to talk to Thomas. I sighed."I just wanted to say that I appreciate your friendship, especially now when everything's so..." I gestured vaguely at my pregnant belly, "complicated. But I'm not in a place where I can think about anything more than that."Thomas's expression softened. "Mia. I understand completely. And I hop
Mia's POVI looked at Thomas. But I immediately realized that he wanted to help me.His eyes met mine briefly. A silent message passing between us: Play along. It's easier this way.One voice told me: This is not a good idea. Making things more complicated will not help. I should have corrected Thomas. I should have clarified that Thomas and I were just friends, that there was nothing romantic between us.But seeing Kyle's expression changed. A flash of raw pain quickly passed his face. It unlocked something petty and vindictive in me that I wasn't proud of.So I said nothing. Just moved closer to Thomas, even allowing him to place a protective hand at the small of my back.Kyle's eyes tracked the movement, his expression shuttering completely. When he spoke again, his voice held none of the emotion that had colored it moments before."I see." The two words were clipped, professional. "Then I won't waste any more of your time." He nodded once, a businessman concluding an unsuccessful
Mia's POV"Mia."The voice, that voice, snapped me back to reality with jarring suddenness.I turned my head. My eyes flew open to find Kyle standing a few feet away, his expression guarded but his posture hesitant.The second time. "Are you following me?" I blurted."No." He gestured to a building visible just beyond the park's edge. "My meeting was there. I saw you from the window."I wanted to believe it was another coincidence, but the statistical improbability, strained credulity. Paris was too big, with too many parks and too many paths for these encounters to be chance.I think I was angry."What do you want, Kyle?" I asked, suddenly tired of the games, the half-truths, the careful dance we'd been performing since the divorce.He hesitated, then sat beside me, leaving a careful distance between us. His closeness sent an unwanted ripple of awareness through me. Purely subconscious. For the familiar scent of his cologne, the warmth radiating from his body."Is it true?" he asked
Mia's POV"You kept it." he said softly, his eyes lifting to mine with an expression I couldn't interpret. Despite everything that had happened, I never once thought of throwing it away . That memory belonged not just to Kyle, but also to me. Although Kyle and I are in a mess right now, we did go through all that when we were kids."Just because I didn't throw it away doesn't mean anything. Kyle."His gaze wavered. It was strange. I thought it was my imagination. He overlapped with the little boy in my memory.The truth was, I didn't know myself. Just as I didn't know why seeing him here, now, in the fading golden light of a Parisian evening, made my heart ache with a longing I thought I'd successfully buried.His fingers closed around the pendant, the gesture almost reverential. "Do you remember when I gave this to you?"I sighed. "In the warehouse, when we are about to part.""You do remember." His voice held wonder. "Mia. I—""Stop." I held up a hand to halt whatever he was about
Mia's POVKyle nodded, seemingly unsurprised by my response. "I understand." I looked into his grey eyes. There was a small reflection of me there. Could I really consider him only a father to my boys?He handed me the flowers. After a moment's hesitation, I took it, our fingers brushing in the exchange. The brief contact sent an unwanted jolt of awareness through me."Thank you," I managed.He just nodded.We'd reached the hotel's side entrance, the discreet door I'd slipped out through earlier. Kyle stopped a respectful distance away, making no move to follow me inside."Goodnight, Mia," he said softly. "Take care of yourself. And them.""Goodnight, Kyle."As I entered the hotel and made my way back to the suite, my mind was a whirlwind of conflicting thoughts and emotions. The pendant seemed to burn in my pocket, a tangible reminder of the past. I wanted to end it, but Kyle wasn't going to let that happen. I was a lost sailor, and he had the song of a siren. Was he trying to lea
Mia‘s POVThe Louvre was everything the guidebooks promised and more. I visited once when I was very young. But I don't remember anything now. It's like a brand new visit.I was particularly drawn to the Greek antiquities, something about their weathered permanence speaking to me in ways the more flamboyant Renaissance paintings didn't. The twins seemed to appreciate the art as well, shifting and kicking whenever we stopped for a particularly detailed explanation."They're already developing excellent taste," Scarlett observed when I shared this with her. "Morton will approve."I can't help but stand in front of these collections for a long time. Many of them have passed through thousands of years. How many people had seen them before? People always feel that the sadness they have experienced is hard to let go, but in front of them, it is just a flash in the pan.After the museum, we enjoyed a light lunch at a café overlooking the Seine, watching tourists and locals pass by in the aut
Mia's POVWith a sigh, I closed the box and slid it into my bedside drawer, beneath my journal and the Paris guidebook I'd barely opened. I'd deal with my complicated feelings about the gift—and its giver—later."Mia?" Scarlett called again, her voice closer now. "Are you decent? I'm coming in!"I quickly shut the drawer just as she breezed into the room, a whirlwind of energy and expensive perfume. Her cheeks were flushed with excitement, eyes bright."You will not believe what Baptiste arranged for tomorrow," she announced, flopping onto my bed with the casual confidence of someone who's been doing it since childhood sleepovers. "We're getting a private viewing of the Musée d'Orsay before it opens to the public. Just us! Can you imagine? All those Monets and Van Goghs without tourists blocking the view.""How did he manage that?" I asked."Magic? Bribery? Who cares!" She rolled onto her side, propping her head on her hand to study me. "How was your afternoon? You look... contemplati
Mia's POVDinner was at a Michelin-starred restaurant overlooking the Eiffel Tower, the kind of place where the menu didn't list prices and the wine list was thicker than most novels. Morton was already seated when we arrived, rising with impeccable manners as we approached."Scarlett. Mia." He nodded to each of us in turn, pulling out my chair first with old-world gallantry. "You both look lovely."Scarlett didn't say anything. That's very unscarlett of her. I felt a little strange.Morton either didn't notice or chose to ignore it, signaling for the sommelier before turning to me. "How was the museum this morning? Scarlett mentioned a private viewing.""It was amazing," I said sincerely."I'm glad to hear it." He nodded. "And your meeting with Leblanc is tomorrow?""Yes, at ten." I said."Bernard Leblanc has a reputation for innovation," Morton agreed.The conversation flowed easily enough through the extravagant meal. Yet I couldn't shake the feeling that something was strained bet
Mia's POVA knock at the door interrupted our banter. Morton poked his head in, looking slightly apologetic."Dinner's almost ready," he announced. "Nothing fancy, but there's roast beef, potatoes, and some vegetables. Mia, I assumed you'd stay? There's plenty."Gas perked up at the mention of food, his tail wagging hopefully."Don't worry, buddy," Morton assured him. "I've got something for you too."By the time we finished eating, however, Scarlett was visibly flagging, the brief burst of energy from leaving her sickbed rapidly depleting."You should get back to bed," I said gently, noting the renewed flush in her cheeks. "Your fever's coming back."She nodded, too tired to argue. "I hate being sick. It's so boring.""It's your body telling you to slow down," Morton advised, already moving to help her up. "Even Scarlett Wallace-Morton needs rest occasionally.""Wallace-Morton," she repeated, leaning heavily against his arm. "That still
Chapter 178Mia's POVI took her hand, squeezing gently. "Mom sent chicken soup. The magical cure-all kind that she used to make when we were kids.""Your mom is a saint," Scarlett sighed, sinking back into her pillows. "Morton's been amazing, but he's clueless about the whole sick day thing. Keeps asking if I need a specialist or if we should go to the emergency room.""He's worried about you," I observed.Something soft flickered across her fever-flushed face. "Yeah. It's... nice."This was new territory for Scarlett, who had always fiercely maintained her independence."When did you start feeling sick?" I asked, changing the subject before she could retreat behind her usual sardonic defenses."Yesterday afternoon," she admitted. "Just a headache at first. I thought it was from staring at spreadsheets too long. Then around dinner time, I started feeling achy all over. By bedtime, Morton said I was burning up.""And you didn't call
Mia's POV"Scarlett's sick?" I sat up straighter, worry immediately replacing my fatigue."She came down with something last night. Started with a headache, then progressed to a fever this morning." There was genuine concern in Morton's voice."Is she okay? Did you call a doctor?" The questions tumbled out of me in rapid succession."Dr. Klein saw her this morning. Nothing serious. But you know Scarlett—she's not exactly a model patient."I could almost see her, red hair wild against her pillows, indignantly refusing medicine and insisting she was perfectly fine while burning up with fever. That was Scarlett, stubborn to the core."I want to talk to her," I said, already calculating how quickly I could get to their place."She's resting now," Morton replied. "Finally convinced her to take something for the fever and she dozed off about twenty minutes ago.""Tell her to call me when she wakes up, please?""Of course. She actually asked me to call you earlier, then changed her mind. Sai
Mia's POV"So we'd be each other's beards? Hiding from your mother and my ex-husband?"His lips quirked into a small smile. "Something like that, yes."I considered it for a moment. There was a certain appeal to the idea.There was a small part of me that liked the idea of Kyle seeing me move on with my life. Realizing that his romantic grand gestures wouldn't automatically win me back, that I had other options, and that I wouldn't just sit around waiting for him."What about when the twins are born? We couldn't maintain this charade indefinitely. And what if you meet someone you actually want to date?""We'll cross those bridges when we come to them," Thomas said with a casual confidence I envied. "For now, it would just be a few weeks of strategic public appearances to establish a counter-narrative."I looked at him intently for the first time. Thomas had always presented himself as a classic, clean-cut, handsome man. He was tall and fit, with strong features that were at the same t
**Mia's POV**Thomas is really here.My goodness, we haven't seen each other since we got back from Paris.He's dressed casually but expensively in dark jeans and a charcoal sweater that highlights his athletic build. His dark blonde hair is slightly windblown, and he's wearing sunglasses despite the overcast day—probably an attempt at discretion."I told you," Javier murmurs, gesturing toward Thomas. "Your security detail verified his identity but wouldn't let him enter the site without your permission."I sigh, unsure whether to be touched by Thomas's unexpected appearance or annoyed at yet another complication in an already chaotic day."Thank you for everything, Javier," I say, handing him the annotated plans I've been marking up during our inspection. "Make these adjustments and send the revised specifications to my office by tomorrow.""Of course, Ms. Williams." He accepts the documents with a professional nod. "I'll have someone escort
**Mia's POV**His expression darkens. "I'm not sure. Let me check." He speaks rapidly into his walkie-talkie, listening to the response with a deepening frown."Reporters," he says finally, turning back to me. "Three or four of them, trying to get onto the site. They're claiming they're doing a piece on innovative architectural design, but..."He doesn't need to finish the sentence. We both know they're not here for the architecture."My apologies, Ms. Williams," he continues. "This is a closed site. They shouldn't be able to get in, but perhaps we should continue our inspection indoors."I consider the suggestion. Part of me wants to retreat, to avoid the confrontation. But another part—the part that's increasingly tired of being pushed around—rebels against the idea."No," I decide firmly. "This is my project, my site visit. I won't be chased away."Javier looks surprised but nods. "As you wish. I'll have security reinfo
**Mia's POV**The next morning I wake feeling more refreshed than I expected, the long sleep having restored some of my depleted energy reserves.Gas greets me with his usual enthusiasm, his entire body wiggling with joy as if he hasn't seen me in weeks rather than hours. The simple, uncomplicated love of a dog is exactly what I need this morning."Gas baby," I murmur, scratching behind his ears, "Mommy loves you too."In the kitchen, Mom is already preparing breakfast, the scent of coffee and toast filling the air. "You're up early," she comments, eyeing me with mild surprise. "Feeling better?""Much," I confirm, accepting the glass of orange juice she offers. "And I've been thinking. I need to get out of this apartment."She frowns."I can't hide forever, Mom," I point out. "Besides, I have a site inspection scheduled at the children's center today. It's important.""I could call and reschedule," Mom suggests. "I'm sure they'd understand."
**Mia's POV**Kyle stands in the hallway, looking simultaneously immaculate and disheveled. His gray eyes are intense, almost feverish as they lock onto mine."Mia," he says, my name a breath of relief on his lips."Come," I inform him coolly, stepping back to allow him entry. "I'm not feeling well, and I need to rest. So spit it out."He enters cautiously, his gaze sweeping over me with an assessment that's both professional and intimately familiar. "You look pale. Have you eaten today?"The question irritates me more than it should. "My eating habits aren't your concern, Kyle," I reply, closing the door behind him. He moves into the living room but remains standing. "You've seen the press conference," he says. "The entire world has seen the press conference," I counter. A muscle ticks in his jaw. "It wasn't a publicity stunt, Mia.""Oh?" I raise an eyebrow. "Then what would you call it? A spontaneous declaration of undying love? In front of cameras, reporters, the entire busine
**Mia's POV**Fury doesn't begin to describe what I'm feeling. The media is going to be all over this. They're going to be all over me.Thanks for Kyle Branson's grand gesture, apparently.I tries to calm myself down , taking a deep breath. Getting worked up isn't good for the twins. Dr. Matthews would have my head if my blood pressure skyrocketed again."I need to call him," I decide suddenly. "Right now.""Mia—" Scarlett begins, but I've already ended our call.My fingers move on autopilot, pulling up Kyle's contact information. His newest number, the "secure" one he texted me after his previous phone was compromised. I hit dial before I can talk myself out of it.The line rings once, twice, and I rehearse the blistering tirade I'm about to unleash. How dare he hijack our carefully worded statement with this self-indulgent performance? Three rings, four. Maybe he's still in the press conference. Maybe he's being mobbed by journalists demanding more details.I hang up before the ca