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 POVI stared at the message. I took a screenshot and forwarded it to my lawyer with a brief message:Received this just now from unknown number. Likely Taylor or associate. Please document for potential restraining order.Then I blocked the number, set my phone aside, and crawled into bed.I sat on the bed, thinking about the moment Taylor sent this message. Although I'm not 100% sure it's her. But undoubtedly, she is the likeliest person. Threatening and manipulating are her favorite tricks. The only difference is that I'm no longer afraid. I figured something out. I don't need Taylor to realize that she's done wrong. I don't need her to apologize. I just need to make the people who hurt me pay the price they deserve. An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth.I need to sleep. Tomorrow, after discussing work with Bernard Leblanc, I can go home. Although I have only been gone for less than two weeks, I miss my mother and Gas. A lot.I close my eyes, letting the city's magic seep in
Mia's POVI text Scarlett that I'm done with work. She responds quickly.Great! Lunch at that little place with the amazing onion soup? Last chance for authentic French cuisine before returning to land of bagels and pizza.Sounds perfect, I replied, smiling at her priorities.Back in my suite, I found most of my belongings already neatly packed, the hotel staff having worked their magic while I was at my meeting. Only a small suitcase remained open for last-minute items and tomorrow's travel outfit.I carefully placed the sketchbook from Bernard in my carry-on, along with my tablet and the few other items I'd need for the flight. The job offer letter and contract were safely tucked into a folder, ready for my lawyer to review upon our return to New York.A knock at my door announced Scarlett's arrival. She swept in wearing a chic travel outfit that somehow looked both comfortable and runway-ready."There you are!" she exclaimed. "Tell me everything about the meeting. What projects wil
Mia's POVI sleep for several hours on the flight, waking only when the lunch service began."Feeling okay?" Scarlett asked, returning from a brief visit to the front of the cabin where Thomas was working on his laptop."Better than expected," I admitted. "Thank you and your husband for the first-class cabin."“That's what he should do, otherwise I won't marry him,” Scarlett said, pointing at her ring.I nodded, ”Very convincing.”"Not much longer," she assured me, checking her watch. "About two hours until we land."As if on cue, my phone buzzed with an incoming email. The airplane's Wi-Fi allowing me to stay connected despite being somewhere over the Atlantic. It was from my lawyer:Mia,Update on the situation with Taylor Matthews. She has been released on bail but with significant restrictions—surrender of passport, ankle monitor, no contact orders for you and your mother. Her attorney is positioning this as a misunderstanding, claiming she was an unwitting teenager manipulated by
Kyle's POVThe amber liquid in my glass caught the light as I swirled it, watching the way it clung to the crystal before settling. Macallan 25, a formidable scotch with notes of dried fruits and oak. I took another measured sip."She's back, you know."I looked up to find Morton watching me. My longtime business partner, occasional adversary, and perhaps the closest thing I had to a genuine friend. Currently, he was leaning back in his leather chair, nursing his own scotch.We were seated in the private lounge of The Metropolitan Club, where generations of New York's financial elite had conducted their affairs away from public scrutiny. The oak-paneled walls, leather furnishings, and discreet staff created an atmosphere of exclusivity that had always suited my preference for privacy."I'm aware," I replied, keeping my tone neutral despite the way my pulse had quickened at the mere allusion to Mia.Morton raised an eyebrow. "And?""And nothing." I set my glass down with precise contro
Mia's POVThe twins were already awake, their movements gentle but persistent beneath my ribs. "Good morning to you two," I murmured.The smell of coffee wafted from the kitchen. The real coffee, not the decaf I'd been restricted to. That meant mom was up. I carefully pushed myself to sitting. Gas immediately perked up, his tail thumping against the mattress as he watched me with adoration."Yes, we're getting up," I told him, scratching behind his ears. "Wanna play?"I slipped on my robe and made my way to the kitchen, Gas trotting faithfully at my heels. Mom stood at the counter, butter knife in hand, spreading something on toast. She looked up at my entrance, her face lighting with a smile that still caught me off guard sometimes. To have her back in my life."There you are," she said. "I was wondering if jet lag would keep you in bed all day.""The smell of breakfast was too tempting," I replied, easing myself onto a kitchen stool.Mom slid a plate of toast in front of me. whole gr
Mia's POVThe conference room in the District Attorney's office felt colder than it should have. I adjusted my cardigan, pulling it tighter around my expanding belly as I listened to Assistant District Attorney Ramirez lay out the case against my father and Helen."The financial trail is quite extensive," Ramirez explained, clicking through slides of complex diagrams on his presentation. "We've tracked funds being siphoned from Sarah Williams' accounts through a series of shell companies before ultimately disappearing into offshore holdings in the Cayman Islands and Belize."I studied the web of arrows connecting various company names, trying to make sense of it all. Red Box Holdings LLC. Maritime Ventures Group. Sunward Capital Limited. All meaningless names designed to hide the theft of my mother's fortune.Ramirez adjusted his glasses. "They were actually quite sophisticated about it. Small amounts moved over extended periods, transactions timed to coincide with market fluctuations
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