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 POVThe drive back to the hotel passed in a blur.Carol was Nate's wife.The revelation shouldn't have shocked me as much as it did. Nate had mentioned her death, after all. But somehow, I'd never made the connection that she might have been his wife rather than a girlfriend. The depth of his loss suddenly took on new dimensions.And to build an entire home for her, filled with every detail she might have loved...only to lose her before she could ever step foot inside.Could this be true? Did this really happen to Dr. Pierce? To my friend Nate?"Madame? Are you alright?" Henri's concerned voice broke through my thoughts.I blinked, realizing we'd arrived back at the hotel. "Yes, sorry. Just thinking.""You seem troubled," he observed gently. "Was the architecture not what you hoped?""It was beautiful," I said, gathering my purse as he came around to open my door. "Just...sad."Henri helped me from the car with quiet efficiency. "Many beautiful things in Paris have sad stories b
Mia's POVThe green dress was a good choice, I had to admit as I examined my reflection. The rich emerald tone brought out the green in my eyes, and the cut was flattering to my changing shape. I added simple gold earrings and a touch of makeup, just enough to look polished without feeling overdone.By the time Thomas arrived, precisely at 7:15, I'd managed to lock away my more tumultuous emotions behind a facade of calm. Scarlett had outdone herself, wearing a black cocktail dress that somehow managed to be both elegant and eye-catching."Ladies," Thomas greeted us, looking impeccable as always in a perfectly tailored charcoal suit. "You both look lovely.""You clean up pretty well yourself, Tommy," Scarlett quipped, accepting his obligatory kiss on the cheek. "Did you actually leave the office before 7 PM today? I'm shocked.""Special occasion," he replied easily, his eyes meeting mine. "It's not every day a friend receives an offer from one of the most prestigious architecture firm
Mia's POVThe night air had cooled significantly. Scarlett walked slightly ahead, talking animatedly on her phone with Morton about something involving the auction house and potential legal action.Thomas and I walk side by side. It's a good thing that Thomas and I had everything sorted out a few days ago. So I'm not as nervous now."You've been quiet tonight," Thomas observed, his voice pitched low enough that Scarlett couldn't overhear. "Everything alright?""Just processing a lot," I admitted. “As you can see, my life is always full of surprises. The job offer, this news about Kyle..."He stopped."I'm sorry if that ruined your evening," he said sincerely. "We debated whether to tell you.""No, I'm glad you did. Better to know than be surprised later."This has nothing to do with Scarlett or Thomas. The problem that needs to be solved only occurs between Kyle and me. But I should definitely talk to Scarlett and Morton about the need for some kind of confidentiality agreement between
Mia's POVI sat up so quickly the room spun, grabbing the tablet with suddenly trembling hands. The article was from the New York Times, dated this morning:Richard Williams, founder of Williams Construction Group, was arrested yesterday evening on charges of attempted murder and financial fraud. Williams, 62, is accused of orchestrating the "accident" that left his first wife, Sarah Williams, in a coma for over a decade. The arrest comes after months of investigation prompted by Sarah Williams' miraculous recovery earlier this year.Sources close to the investigation reveal that financial records indicate Williams may have been systematically embezzling from his wife's considerable family holdings during her incapacitation, using the funds to shore up his failing business ventures.Williams' second wife, Helen Porter-Williams, has also been taken in for questioning. Legal experts suggest she may face charges of conspiracy and financial fraud.The Williams Construction Group has issue
Mia‘s POVThe tension in Robert's office was palpable. I shifted uncomfortably in my chair, one hand resting protectively over my growing belly as I tried to process what he had just told us."Released again?" My mother's voice cut through the silence, sharp with disbelief. "How is that even possible?"Robert sighed, removing his glasses to rub the bridge of his nose—a gesture I'd come to recognize as his tell for extreme frustration. "The judge cited insufficient evidence that the text message came directly from Taylor. Her attorney argued successfully that anyone could have sent that message from an unidentified number.""But it was clearly her," I insisted, feeling the twins shift restlessly as my blood pressure rose. "Who else would send something like that?""I know," Robert agreed, his normally composed face showing rare signs of genuine anger. "But Whitfield managed to create just enough reasonable doubt. He argued that with Taylor's notoriety following her arrest, anyone could
Mia's POV"What?" The news caught me completely off guard. "Since when?""About two weeks ago," she replied, labeling the vial of blood. "It was quite sudden."Two weeks ago—right around the time I returned from Paris. Were the timing coincidental? Nate had left without a word, without even a goodbye text."Are you okay?" the nurse asked, noticing my distress. "Your pulse just jumped.""I'm fine," I assured her, though my mind was racing. "Just surprised. He was my mother's doctor for years."The nurse nodded sympathetically. "A lot of patients were upset when he left. He was very popular here." She applied a bandage to my arm. "All done. The doctor should have these results soon."After she left, Kyle studied my face. "You seem to care a lot about Nate.""He is my friend," I said, not wanting to explain anything. " He has three dogs that Gas loves to play with." I added.Kyle's expression was unreadable. "I see."Mom returned before the conversation could continue, carrying a bag fro
Mia's POVI didn't ask him why he was here. Apparently, Kyle Branson had his own ways."She's resting," Mom was saying, her voice low. "Dr. Matthews says it's not labor, but they're monitoring her for preeclampsia."Kyle's face was taut. "Is there anything I can do?""Not at the moment," Mom replied. "They're running tests and giving her medication to stop the contractions."I shifted slightly, the movement catching their attention. Kyle's eyes immediately found mine."Hey," he said, moving into the room. "How are you feeling?""Groggy," I admitted. "But the contractions are less intense now."He nodded, glancing at the monitor displaying the twins' heart rates. "They look good?""Strong and steady," I confirmed. "Dr. Matthews isn't concerned about them, just about my blood pressure and the contractions."Kyle looked like he wanted to say more but was restraining himself. He settled for a simple, "Good. That's good."Mom checked her watch. "I should call Mrs. Patel and see how Gas is
Mia's POV"It's just Braxton Hicks," I insisted, trying to breathe through another uncomfortable wave of tightness across my abdomen. The pain wasn't unbearable, but the increasing frequency had even me worried now.Mom's expression made it clear she wasn't buying my dismissal. "That's the third one in twenty minutes, Mia. I'm calling Dr. Matthews."Before I could protest further, Mom was already on the phone, her voice crisp and authoritative as she explained the situation to Dr. Matthews's office. I caught fragments of the conversation—"Seven months with twins," "Contractions about six minutes apart," "History of pregnancy complications."The last part made my stomach clench with anxiety. My first pregnancy had ended traumatically on those marble stairs. The memory of Taylor's smug face as I lost consciousness, bleeding and terrified, flashed unbidden through my mind.I think my body is still terrified of all that."Dr. Matthews wants us to come in right away," Mom said, ending the
Mia's POVI considered showing the message to my mother but decided against it. She had enough to worry about without adding Taylor's threats to her burden. Instead, I blocked the unknown number and tried once more to sleep, Gas's warm presence beside me providing some comfort.Morning came too quickly, pale November sunlight filtering through my blinds.I went out of the room."You look terrible," mom said bluntly. "Did you sleep at all?""Not really." I eased myself onto a kitchen stool, wincing as my back protested. "Taylor texted me last night."Mom's face hardened. "What? How did she get your number?""I don't know. But I forwarded it to Robert. He's contacting the DA this morning.""What did she say?" Mom asked, already reaching for her phone as if ready to make calls of her own.I hesitated, not wanting to repeat Taylor's exact words. "Just threats. Nothing specific. But it's a clear viol
Mia's POV"We should get ready," Mom said, already moving toward her room. "Whatever Robert's found, it sounds important."The journey to Robert's office in Midtown was slowed by unusually heavy traffic. By the time we arrived, my back was aching from sitting in the taxi, and my anxiety had reached a fever pitch.Robert's assistant showed us immediately into his corner office, where he waited with a stack of documents spread across his desk. He looked up as we entered, his expression both triumphant and troubled."Thank you for coming," he said, rising to greet us. "Please, sit down. This might take some time to explain."Once we were settled, Robert pulled out a folder and placed it in front of us. "We've been tracking the money that's been funding Taylor's defense—the bail payment, Whitfield's retainer, everything. It's been carefully concealed, routed through multiple shell companies and offshore accounts."
Mia's POVKyle complied, his posture perfectly straight, hands resting lightly on his knees. I studied him for a moment, searching for any sign of deception, any hint that he might be playing both sides."Did you pay Taylor's bail?" I asked directly, seeing no point in dancing around the issue.His expression shifted. "What?""Taylor's bail," I repeated. "Did you pay it? Are you funding her defense?""No," he said, frowning. "Of course not. Why would you think that?""Because someone with significant resources is helping her," I replied, watching his face carefully. "She appeared in court yesterday with Carson Whitfield—one of the most expensive defense attorneys in the city—and posted a million-dollar bail without hesitation."Kyle's frown deepened. "Carson Whitfield? He doesn't typically handle cases like Taylor's.""Exactly. Which means someone with connections arranged it. Someone with
Mia's POVImmediately? My eyes widened as I looked at Robert, who appeared equally surprised."Where is she getting this kind of money?" I whispered.Robert shook his head slightly. "I don't know, but I intend to find out."As the proceedings concluded, I watched Taylor being escorted out to process her release. She'd gotten exactly what she wanted.Outside the courtroom, reporters had gathered despite the court's attempts to keep the proceedings low-profile. Camera flashes erupted as we emerged, voices calling out questions."Mrs. Branson, how do you feel about the court's decision today?""Ms. Williams, were you surprised by the bail amount?""Are you concerned about Taylor Matthews being released?"Robert stepped in front of us, blocking the reporters. "No comments at this time. Please respect my clients' privacy."He guided us toward a side exit where a car was waiting, Mom keeping a
Mia's POVThe courtroom felt impossibly small that morning, every sound amplified in the tense atmosphere. I shifted uncomfortably on the hard wooden bench, trying to find a position that didn't make my back ache. At almost seven months pregnant with twins, comfort was becoming a distant memory."You okay?" Mom whispered, her hand finding mine.I nodded. The truth was, I wasn't okay.I had a feeling that today would not be very easy. Especially after I saw that possible “Taylor”.Robert, our attorney, leaned over from my other side. "Remember, this is just a formality. With the evidence we have, the judge should deny bail."The courtroom doors opened, and the bailiff called for everyone to rise as Judge Harriet Monroe entered. She was a severe-looking woman with steel-gray hair pulled back in a tight bun and rectangular glasses that seemed to magnify her already piercing gaze."Please be seated," she inst