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 POVI'd been staring at my laptop screen for nearly an hour, cursor blinking at the end of an email I'd drafted, rewritten, and edited at least a dozen times. My acceptance letter to Bernard Leblanc.A sharp kick near my ribs made me wince. "Easy there," I murmured, rubbing the spot. "Mom's trying to make a life decision here."I glanced at the clock. 7:42 AM. Scarlett was probably still asleep after our late night discussion about my father's arrest. I was happy for my mother. But I woke up earlier than usual anyway.My phone buzzed with an incoming text from Mom.Are you okay, sweetheart? I know it's early there, but I figured you might be awake processing everything.Mom probably sensed my slight tension. Her intuition is second to none. My thumbs hovered over the screen as I considered how to respond. Finally, I typed:I'm okay. Working on my acceptance email to Bernard Leblanc right now.Her response came quickly: That's wonderful! Trust your instincts, Mia. You've always k
Mia's POVKyle has spared no effort to show his generosity.I downloaded the attached documents, giving them a quick review. I sent a brief acknowledgment:Kyle,Thank you for the documents. I'll review them with my attorney when we return to New York and get back to you with any questions or concerns.MiaI kept my professionalism. I wanted to teach Kyle about boundaries. He wanted to spill the money, but I still wanted to maintain my dignity.With my inbox cleared, I turned my attention to preparing for our last night in Paris. Scarlett had left a garment bag hanging on my closet door with a note attached: "Wear this tonight. Trust me."Inside was a beautiful emerald green dress I'd admired during our shopping expedition but had deemed too extravagant. The cut was perfect for my pregnancy—elegant without trying to hide my bump, comfortable without looking matronly.Another note fluttered from the fabric: "Consider it an early push present. From your eternally stylish best friend who
Mia's POVThe package arrived on an ordinary Tuesday morning. No return address, just my name and address printed in neat block letters that bore no distinguishing characteristics. The delivery man had already disappeared down the hallway by the time I opened the door, summoned by the soft knock."Who was that?" Mom called."Delivery," I replied, turning the padded manila envelope over in my hands."What did you order?" She appeared in the doorway, a dish towel slung over one shoulder."Nothing." I held up the package. I carefully tore along the sealed edge.A leather-bound journal, its cover worn at the corners, the pages slightly yellowed with age. The leather was soft, as if it had been handled often, and a delicate ribbon marker protruded from between the pages. There was no note accompanying it, nothing to indicate who had sent it or why."What is it?" Mom asked, peering over my shoulder.I opened the cover carefully, looking for an inscription or any identifying information. On
Mia's POVAs I filled the kettle for morning tea, my phone rang—an unknown number with a local area code. Normally, I'd let such calls go to voicemail, wary of reporters still trying to get comments about the Branson scandal. But something—intuition perhaps—prompted me to answer."Hello?"There was silence on the other end, followed by a crackle of static that suggested an institutional phone system."Hello?" I repeated, irritation creeping into my voice. "Who is this?""Mia."The voice sent ice through my veins, familiar despite the years."Father."The word felt foreign on my tongue, a relic from a past I'd tried to put behind me. Richard Williams."You answered," he said, sounding genuinely surprised. "I wasn't sure you would.""I didn't recognize the number," I replied, my tone deliberately cool. "What do you want?""Is that any way to greet your father?" The familiar note of manipulation had already crept into his voice, the subtle reminder that I owed him respect regardless of h
Mia's POV"Yes, Mom. I'm awake," I called, adjusting myself against the pillows as she peered around the door. "That was a short appointment."She hesitated in the doorway. "It was canceled. The weather, you know."I nodded, though I didn't entirely believe her explanation. The snow, while steady, was hardly a blizzard. New Yorkers carried on through far worse conditions. But I let it pass, unwilling to interrogate her about a private matter she clearly wasn't ready to share."Are you comfortable?" she asked. "You shouldn't stay in bed all day. A little movement is good for circulation.""I was just resting," I assured her. "I had some soup, like you suggested.""Good. I have some papers to review in my office. Will you be alright on your own for a while?""I'm not an invalid, Mom," I reminded her with a smile. "Just pregnant.""Very pregnant," she corrected.After she left, I remained in bed a while longer, listening to the soft sounds of her moving about in her office across the hal
Mia's POVDecember arrived with its first snow, transforming New York into a landscape of pristine white. I stood at the window, my fingers tracing idle patterns on the frosted glass as I observed the silent descent of snowflakes. My reflection stared back at me, a woman has a belly that had expanded to proportions I once would have deemed impossible.The cold had settled into the city with unusual vigor this year, mirroring the chill that had descended upon the Branson name. Each day brought fresh allegations against Alexander Branson, each more damning than the last. The media, like vultures circling a wounded animal, released evidence piece by piece, ensuring the scandal remained perpetually fresh in the public consciousness."Murder," they called it now. Alexander Branson, murderer of Diane Porter—a truth accepted so readily by a public hungry for the downfall of the wealthy and powerful.I sighed, my breath creating a momentary fog upon the window.Diane Porter had been revealed
Mia's POV"Nate," I said carefully, "what do you know that I don't?"I could hear Nate's breathing on the other end, slightly uneven, as if he was wrestling with himself."I—" he began, then stopped. "There are things I can't explain, Mia.""Nate, please," I said, my voice softer now. "I'm tired of riddles. I have two babies to protect. If you know something that puts us at risk, you need to tell me.""I..." There was a muffled sound on his end, like someone speaking in the background. "I have to go," he said suddenly, his tone shifting to urgency."Nate, wait—""I'll protect you, Mia," he promised. "please consider what I said about Paris.""I can't just—""I have to take this call," he interrupted.The line went dead before I could respond, leaving me staring at my phone in disbelief."What the hell?" I whispered to the empty room."I'm tired of this," I said aloud to Gas, who tilted his head as if considering my words. "Tired of everyone treating me like some fragile doll who can't
Mia's POV"Nate," I said finally, my patience wearing thin, "if you know something that affects me and my children, you have a moral obligation to tell me. Not in riddles, not in vague warnings, but directly."The silence on the other end of the line stretched on for so long that I checked my phone screen to make sure we were still connected. We were."Nate? Are you still there?"A heavy sigh filtered through the connection. "I'm here.""Then talk to me," I pressed.Silence. And silence.I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself. Getting angry wouldn't help, and it certainly wouldn't get Nate to open up."Look," I said, softening my tone, "I need to be honest with you about something. There's a reason I'm pushing so hard for answers."Another pause. "What is it?"I closed my eyes, preparing for his reaction. "When I was in Paris, I went to see the Jardin House."The sharp intake of breath on the other end of the line told me everything I needed to know."You knew," he said flatly. N
Mia's POVI woke to gray skies and a steady drizzle against my bedroom window.My dreams had been a chaotic montage of faces—Kyle's desperation, Scarlett's feverish smile, Jeo's unexpected reappearance, and Nate... Nate with his kind eyes and careful distance, a puzzle I couldn't quite solve.Strange dreams.My phone chimed with a text message, and I reached for it reluctantly, half-expecting it to be Kyle with some pathetic apology. Instead, it was Scarlett:Fever broke this morning. Morton insisting I stay in bed anyway.I smiled despite myself, relieved that her condition was improving. I typed back:Dictator Morton sounds like exactly what you need right now. Rest. I'll check on you later.Setting the phone aside, I pushed myself up and swung my legs over the edge of the bed, taking a moment to find my balance.Gas immediately hopped down and stretched.As I picked at my breakfast, my thoughts returned to the video call with Scarlett and Jeo. The revelation that Jeo and Nate had b
Mia's POVThe hot water helped wash away the physical sensation of Kyle's grasp, of his mouth forced against mine, though the memory remained stubbornly present.I reached for my tablet, thinking I might distract myself with some mindless scrolling or perhaps work on the children's center designs. And my phone chimed with an incoming video call. Scarlett's name and photo flashed on the screen.I accepted the call, adjusting the screen so the dim lighting wouldn't reveal too much of my current state."Hey, Scar," I greeted, forcing a lightness I didn't feel into my voice. "How are you feeling?"Scarlett's face appeared, still flushed with fever but looking marginally better than when I'd left her earlier. "Like I've been hit by a bus, then backed over for good measure," she replied with her characteristic bluntness. "But Morton's playing Florence Nightingale, so I can't complain too much.""You should be resting," I scolded gently. "Why are you calling so late?"Her image shifted as sh
Mia's POVBefore I could process what was happening, Kyle's mouth was on mine, desperate and demanding, tasting of expensive scotch and poor decisions. For a split second, I froze, my brain struggling to catch up with this sudden violation. Gas's barking grew more frantic beside me, his protective instincts in full force as Kyle's hands gripped my shoulders.The initial shock wore off, replaced by a surge of white-hot anger that coursed through my veins. With strength I didn't know I possessed, I shoved hard against Kyle's chest, breaking free from his grip. He stumbled backward, momentarily off-balance, giving me just enough space to raise my hand and deliver a stinging slap across his face.The crack of palm against cheek echoed through the narrow alley, punctuated by Gas's continuing barks."How dare you," I hissed, my entire body trembling with rage. "How dare you grab me like that, touch me like that."Kyle stood frozen, his hand rising slowly to his reddening cheek."Mia—" he st