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 POVShe led me through a glass door into what appeared to be the main studio space—a vast, open area where architects and designers worked at modernist desks. The energy was palpable, a creative hum underlying the quiet concentration of professionals at work.At the far end of the studio, a man rose from his desk and walked toward me. Bernard Leblanc was in his early sixties, with silver-streaked dark hair and the kind of face that seemed permanently set in thoughtful contemplation. His handshake was firm, his smile genuine."Madame Williams," he greeted me in lightly accented English. "Welcome to Leblanc & Associates. Dr. Pierce has told me much about your work.""Thank you for meeting with me," I replied, pleased that my voice came out steady and professional despite my nerves. "I'm a great admirer of your firm's approach to therapeutic environments.""Please, come to my office where we can speak more comfortably." He gestured toward a glass-walled space at the corner of the s
Mia's POV"Take a deep breath and read it again," Scarlett instructed, perched on the edge of the sofa. "Every word. I want to make sure we're not missing anything."I smoothed the letter from Bernard Leblanc on the coffee table, though it was already perfectly flat. My hands were trembling slightly."It's all here," I said, skimming the elegant letterhead once more. "Six-month initial consultancy, with option for extension or permanent position. Remote work possible for the first six months, then..." I paused, the implications hitting me fully. "Then relocation to Paris would be necessary.""Paris," Scarlett repeated, testing the word. "You. Living in Paris.""It's just a possibility at this point," I reminded her, though my heart raced at the thought. "I haven't even decided if I'm going to accept the consultancy."Scarlett gave me a look that clearly said she wasn't buying my hesitation. "Please. You were practically glowing when you walked through that door. I haven't seen you thi
Mia's POV I pushed myself up from the sofa and headed to my room to change into something comfortable for an afternoon of architecture appreciation. The navy dress I'd worn to the meeting was lovely but not ideal for wandering around Parisian neighborhoods.I opted for a loose, comfortable sweater dress in soft gray with black leggings and supportive flats. A light jacket, my purse with the precious job offer letter, and I was ready.As promised, Henri was waiting by the side entrance, the black Mercedes gleaming in the autumn sunlight."Good afternoon, Madame," he greeted me with his usual formal politeness. "Where would you like to go today?""The 16th arrondissement," I said, settling into the back seat with relief. "I'd like to see some of the residential architecture there.""Ah, beautiful homes," he nodded approvingly. "Any particular address?"I hesitated. "Not exactly. I'm looking for a specific house but only have a general idea of where it might be. Maybe we could drive thr
Mia's POV"Are you okay?" Scarlett asked, noticing that I had fallen silent.I blinked, pulling myself back from the spiral of thoughts threatening to drag me under. The conference room felt too small suddenly, the air too thick despite the building's perfect ventilation system."I'm fine," I lied, shifting in the plush executive chair that was still somehow uncomfortable against my aching back. "I just want to see Kyle."Scarlett studied me with the intense scrutiny that only lifelong friends can get away with, her eyes narrowing slightly."Okay," she said finally. "But promise me one thing, alright?""What?""If things get out of hand, or if the press seems to have noticed your presence, you have to leave immediately. No arguments."I nodded. "I promise." The last thing I wanted was to appear in tomorrow's tabloids, looking emotional and desperate as I confronted my ex-husband. It would only reinforce Taylor's narrative of me
Mia's POV Mom studies my face for a long moment, then sighs. "I'll call Edmund. At least he's a security-cleared driver." "Thank you." I grab my purse and phone, relieved to avoid further argument. Mom makes the call, her voice clipped as she arranges for Edmund to pick me up immediately. When she hangs up, she turns to me with a stern expression. "One hour. That's all. Then you come straight back here to rest." "One hour," I agree, knowing better than to push my luck. Gas whines as he watches me prepare to leave, clearly unhappy about being left behind. "Sorry, buddy," I tell him, crouching awkwardly to give him a quick hug. "I'll be back soon. Take care of Grandma for me." The doorbell rings—Edmund arriving more quickly than I'd expected. Mom gives me one last searching look. "Be careful," she says quietly. "And call me if you need anything—anything at all." "I will," I promise, kissing her cheek before heading for the door. Edmund greets me with professional co
Mia's POV"Don't react," I tell myself, my fingers hovering over the keyboard. "Don't give them what they want."But I can't stop scrolling. It's like watching a car crash—horrifying, but impossible to look away from. Every news site, every gossip blog, every social media platform seems to be exploding with "breaking news" about the scandalous gold-digger who trapped billionaire CEO Kyle Branson with a pregnancy.Me.The New York Times article is predictably more restrained than the tabloids, presenting "allegations" and "sources close to the family" rather than outright character assassination. Still, the implications are clear: I manipulated my way into Kyle's life, used my position as his secretary to seduce him, orchestrated a pregnancy to secure my financial future, and am now engaged in a bitter custody battle while carrying his children.The headline stares back at me: "Branson Billions Battle: The Secretary, The Scandal, and the Surrogate Mother Claims."Surrogate mother claim
Mia's POVNate's call came out of the blue. I stared at my phone screen, his name glowing insistently, my finger hovering over the accept button. I consider not answering.Why was he calling now, after weeks of silence? After leaving without a word?I swiped to answer, my heart already racing. "Nate?""Mia." His voice was low but tense. "Are you alone? Can you talk?"Something in his voice makes me feel weird. I glanced around my apartment, quiet except for the gentle snores of Gas sleeping at my feet. Mom had gone out for her morning walk, a new routine she'd adopted since the doctor cleared her for more activity."Yes, I'm alone. What's going on?""Are you okay?"he said.Am I okay?Well, so is that why he called? To ask if I'm okay.It feels like he's holding back."I'm okay, Nate. Did something happen?" I asked.He was silent for a long time, and I even thought he was going to hang up."I need you to listen carefully." He took a breath, as if steeling himself. "What do you mean,
Mia's POVNothing came to my mind.Sleep seemed even more elusive now, but I forced myself to shut down my laptop and head to bed. Gas followed dutifully, settling at my feet with a contented sigh as I arranged pillows to support my aching back.I persuaded myself that I must sleep. And it worked.Morning arrived with pale winter sunlight filtering through my curtains and the distant sounds of Mom moving about the kitchen. I lay still for a moment, rubbing my eyes.I settled in the living room with my laptop, intending to do some work on the children's center project. The final touches were being implemented, with the grand opening scheduled for just after New Year's. Assuming the twins cooperated and stayed put until their due date in January, I hoped to attend.I couldn't help but think of Nate. Will he come?I always feel like he's avoiding me. I want to get to the bottom of it all. But something stops me.I was deep in correspondence with the contractor about some last-minute adju
Mia's POVI looked at Kyle. "Will you let me know what you find out?"“Nothing important.”He said.I couldn't help the small, exasperated sigh that escaped me. "Okay". I said in a flat tone. At the same time, I studied his face, trying to determine if he was lying to me. I couldn't read Kyle.It's frustrating."Thank you," I said finally. "For everything you shared today. I'm tired. I want to rest."Kyle nodded, then turned to me one last time. "Try to rest, Mia. And call if you need anything. Day or night.""Okay," I agreed, stepping back to allow him passage to the door. As he moved past me, his arm brushed against mine. Even it is the briefest of contacts, but enough to send an unwelcome jolt of awareness through me.After he left, Mom closed the door and engaged the new security locks Kyle's team had installed. "Well," she said, turning to me. "That was informative.""And complicated," I added, moving back to the living room where Gas was waiting."Are you hungry? I could make som
Mia's POV"Mia," he said, his deep voice resonating in the quiet room. "How are you feeling?""Fine," I replied automatically, easing myself onto the sofa with Scarlett's subtle assistance. "Thank you for coming on such short notice.""Of course." He remained standing, though he seemed uncertain whether to move closer or maintain his distance. "My team has been investigating regarding Edward Porter. It's... complicated.""What have you found?" Mom asked."Edward Porter and my father were business partners in the early 2000s. They founded a mining operation in South America—primarily copper and silver. The venture was profitable for several years, but then something changed. My father pulled out abruptly in 2007, liquidating his share of the business at a significant loss.""Why would he do that?" I asked."That's what I've been trying to determine," Kyle replied. "My father wasn't one to walk away from profitable ventures, especially not at a loss. The official reason given in the com
Mia's POV"I still don't understand why Taylor is so fixated on hurting you," Scarlett said, popping another chocolate into her mouth. "I mean, I know she's always been jealous, but this goes way beyond normal stepsister rivalry. She's literally risking life in prison to keep coming after you."I'd wondered the same thing, especially after discovering Edward Porter's involvement. "I think it started as jealousy, but now?" I shook my head."Or it's not about you at all," Mom suggested quietly.Scarlett and I both turned to look at her."What do you mean?" I asked.Mom had a distant look in her eyes, the one she got when piecing together complex puzzles. "What if Taylor is just a pawn in a larger game? What if someone is using her?""Much more reasonable," Scarlett said.Mom nodded. "But why target Mia specifically? What does he gain from harming her?""Revenge against Kyle?" I suggested. "If Porter had a falling out with Alexander Branson, maybe he's trying to hurt Kyle through me and
Mia's POVGas's ears perked up a full minute before the doorbell rang, his keen senses detecting Scarlett's approach well before the elevator delivered her to our floor. His tail began wagging furiously as he positioned himself by the door.Dogs are so smart."Someone's excited," I commented, pushing myself up.Mom looked up from her laptop. "I'll get it. You stay put.""I'm fine," I insisted, already halfway to the door. "I've been 'putting' all day. I need to move a little."She gave me her patented maternal look.I opened the door just as Scarlett raised her hand to knock again. She stood there in sleek black pants and an emerald silk blouse that made her red hair look like living flame, a large designer bag slung over one shoulder and what appeared to be several shopping bags clutched in her other hand."Finally!" she exclaimed, sweeping past me in a cloud of expensive perfume. "Do you know how many security checkpoints I had to go through to get up here? Your lobby looks like the