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 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"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 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"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 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 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
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 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 POVA week before Christmas, snow fell gently outside my window. The city sparkled with holiday lights. I should have felt festive. I didn't.Kyle hadn't called. Not once.Three weeks since the park incident.I pressed my forehead against the cold glass. The twins kicked inside me, restless like their mother.I haven't called him. Why should I? He punched Thomas. Acted like a caveman.But his absence hurts. I hate that it hurts.The twins will arrive in January. Where is their father?I never realized that I would want Kyle to be there when I gave birth.Scarlett dropped the bomb at dinner yesterday."Kyle's in Paris," she said, watching me over her wineglass. "Been there two weeks now. Morton says it's about the Diana Porter scandal."I pretended not to care. Changed the subject. Kept my face blank.Kyle in Paris. An ocean away.I guessed that business were always first.Why did I expect anything different?A sharp kick beneath my ribs. Twin A - always the troublemaker.They're
Kyle's POVThe photograph lay on my desk like an accusation. Thomas Wallace, his face too close to Mia's, his hand resting on the small of her back as they walked through the children's center construction site. Her smile—that rare, genuine expression I'd seen directed at me so infrequently during our marriage—illuminated her face as she looked up at him.I slammed my fist against the mahogany desktop, sending a cascade of reports scattering to the floor. The security team I'd assigned to protect her had delivered these images this morning, and each one felt like a personal betrayal. Logically, I knew I had no right to these feelings. We were divorced. I had forfeited any claim on her emotions long ago.Logic, however, did nothing to quell the rage coursing through me.I paced the length of my corner office, the New York skyline a blur beyond the windows. Something primitive and possessive clawed at my insides. The thought of Thomas, for god's sake, stepping into the life I had ruined
Mia's POV"Kyle!" I exclaimed, shock and anger flooding through me. "What are you doing?"Kyle stood over Thomas, his chest heaving, fists still clenched at his sides. "Stay away from my wife," he growled."Ex-wife," I corrected automatically, moving to Thomas's side. "Are you alright?"Thomas touched his jaw gingerly, wincing. "I'll live," he muttered, his eyes never leaving Kyle's face. "Though your ex-husband seems determined to change that."Gas barked frantically, clearly distressed by the sudden violence. Several park-goers had stopped to stare, and I realized with horror that this scene was likely to make tomorrow's gossip columns if any of them recognized Kyle."This is ridiculous," I said, helping Thomas to his feet. "Kyle, you need to leave. Now.""I'm not going anywhere," Kyle retorted, his voice tight with barely controlled rage. "Not while he's with you."I stepped between the two men, one hand protectively on my belly. "This is none of your business, Kyle. Thomas was hel
Mia's POVThe brisk winter air felt refreshing against my face as Thomas and I strolled through Madison Square Park. Gas trotted happily ahead of us, his white fur bright against the dormant winter grass. I placed a hand on my lower back, trying to ease the persistent ache that had become my constant companion in these final weeks of pregnancy."Are you comfortable?" Thomas asked, his eyes filled with concern. "We can head back if you're getting tired.""I'm fine," I assured him, grateful for his thoughtfulness. "This was a good idea. I needed to get out of that apartment."Thomas had shown up at my door unexpectedly, bearing Mediterranean food and a gentle insistence that fresh air would do me good. After days cooped up with nothing but my troubled thoughts for company, I'd finally relented. My mother was out at another of her mysterious "appointments," and the walls had been closing in on me."I'm glad you agreed to come," Thomas said, matching his pace to my ungainly waddle. "You s
Mia's POVI stood by the hospital bed, staring at my father's battered form with mixed emotions. After receiving the call about his "incident" at the prison, I'd came to Mount Sinai Hospital. Now, seeing Richard Williams lying there with tubes and monitors attached to him, I felt karma was real."You came," he said,"I wasn't sure you would.""I almost didn't. My lawyer thought it was a bad idea."My father's eyes flickered to where my attorney stood near the door, then back to me. The harsh hospital lighting emphasized the damage to his face—a swollen eye, split lip, and various bruises spreading across his features."Thank you. I know I don't deserve your concern.""I'm not here out of concern," I clarified. "I'm here because you claimed to have information that affects my safety."A nurse entered, checked his vitals, and adjusted his medication. I waited until she left before continuing."What happened to you?" I asked, gesturing to his injuries."Prison justice," he replied with a
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