Mia's POVMy hands trembled as I reached for my bag, fingers brushing against the manila envelope inside. The divorce papers felt heavy, weighted with more than just legal terms and conditions. They represented freedom – or at least, they should have."I've made my decision," I said quietly, pulling out the envelope. The hospital room seemed to shrink around us, the air growing thick with tension.Kyle's eyes fixed on the envelope, his jaw tightening. "What is that?""You know what it is." I held the papers out, my voice steadier than I felt. "I've already signed them."His laugh was harsh, echoing off the sterile walls. "You can't be serious.""I've never been more serious." I stepped closer, forcing him to take the envelope. "It's over, Kyle. Whatever this was between us – the contract, the pretense, all of it. It's done."Kyle's fingers closed around the envelope, but instead of opening it, he moved to the window. The setting sun cast his profile in sharp relief, highlighting the t
Mia's POVThe surgery seemed endless. Each tick of the hospital clock echoed through my bones, marking hours that felt like centuries. I'd been here since morning, pacing the sterile hallways, my prayers growing more desperate with each passing hour."Please," I whispered, my fingers wrapped tight around the small cross pendant Mom had given me years ago. "I'll do anything. Just let her live."The fluorescent lights cast everything in a harsh, unforgiving glare. Or maybe that was just my exhaustion. I couldn't remember the last time I'd truly slept. Not since losing the babies. Not since everything fell apart."Mrs. Branson?"The doctor's voice made my heart stop. I searched his face for any hint of hope, but his expression remained carefully neutral."How is she?" The words barely made it past my dry throat."The surgery is complete," he began, his tone measured. "We've managed to stabilize your mother's condition... temporarily."That last word hit like a physical blow."Her current
Kyle's POVI pushed Mia away, but the trembling of her body beneath my hands lingered like an accusation. The hospital room's fluorescent lights cast harsh shadows across her face, highlighting the dark circles under her eyes, the hollow cheeks that spoke of too many sleepless nights. The sight of her – this woman who had always faced me with quiet strength now reduced to desperate bargaining – stirred something painful in my chest.She swayed slightly as I released her, vulnerable in a way that made my throat tight. Where was the fire that usually sparked in those green eyes when she challenged me? The subtle defiance in her chin when she disagreed with my decisions? This wasn't my Mia. Not the woman who'd always greeted me with soft smiles, whose love had been a constant I'd taken for granted."What are you doing?" The words came out harsher than I intended, laced with an anger I didn't fully understand. Seeing her debase herself like this – it felt wrong. Fundamentally wrong."Isn'
**Mia's POV**Cold. So cold.The hospital doors hiss behind me. Words echo, bounce and shatter in my head.*" We can't guarantee. You should prepare yourself..."*The machines beeping. Keep beeping,No. Don't think. Just walk. One foot. Then another. The parking lot swims before my eyes, street lamps bleeding into the darkness. Like watercolors. Like the ones Mom used to paint with me, before everything.My feet carried me forward mechanically. The parking lot stretched endlessly ahead, street lamps casting pools of sickly yellow light. Each step felt heavier than the last, as if my body was finally collapsing under the weight of everything I'd lost.Focus. Have to focus. But everything's spinning. Slipping. Like sand through my fingers. Like everything else.*"The experimental procedures are risky..."*My babies. My dreams. And now Mom.The concrete under my feet doesn't feel real. Nothing feels real anymore. Maybe I'm not real either. Maybe I died at the bottom of those stairs with m
**Kyle's POV**I stood outside our bedroom door, my forehead pressed against the cool wood, listening to Mia's muffled sobs. Each broken sound pierced something deep in my chest, an unfamiliar ache I couldn't name. My hand rested on the doorknob, neither turning it nor letting go.Time stretched endlessly in that dark hallway. Minutes? Hours? I couldn't tell. I only knew I couldn't leave until her crying stopped. Until I was sure she'd fallen asleep.When silence finally fell, I waited longer still. Just to be certain.The door opened soundlessly under my hand. Moonlight spilled through the windows, painting silver trails across Mia's tear-stained cheeks. She looked small in our massive bed, curled tight around herself as if trying to hold something together.Moving closer, I studied Mia's sleeping face. Even unconscious, she didn't look peaceful. Her brow was furrowed, lips trembling slightly. Dried tears glittered on her lashes.Had she always looked this fragile? This broken? How l
**Mia's POV**The first thing I noticed was the soft cotton against my cheek, still damp with tears. For a moment, I kept my eyes closed, feeling the warmth of morning sunlight on my face. My body ached, heavy with exhaustion, but my mind felt strangely clear – clearer than yesterday.Mom needed me. She was fighting for her life in that hospital bed, surrounded by beeping machines and sterile walls. I couldn't fall apart. Not now. Not when she needed me to be strong.I pushed myself up slowly, wincing at the stiffness in my muscles. The en-suite bathroom mirror revealed what I'd expected – pale skin, dark circles under puffy eyes, hair tangled from restless sleep. I looked like grief personified. But I couldn't be that person anymore. Not if I wanted to help Mom.The hot shower helped, washing away the salt of dried tears. I let the water pound against my shoulders, trying to release some of the tension. Each breath came a little easier than the last.A gentle knock interrupted my tho
**Mia's POV**My father hadn't changed. Not one bit.He stood in the center of what used to be our living room, every inch the successful businessman in his tailored charcoal suit. The same rigid posture, the same cold eyes, the same air of perpetual disappointment when he looked at me. Only the silver threading his temples hinted at the passage of time.The room itself had transformed completely since my childhood. Mom's beloved watercolors had been replaced by expensive abstract pieces that Taylor's mother preferred. The warm, comfortable furniture was gone, exchanged for sleek leather and chrome that matched their sophisticated tastes. Even the air felt different – no longer the subtle scent of Mom's favorite jasmine tea, but something artificial, designer, chosen to impress rather than comfort.Taylor perched on the arm of Dad's favorite leather chair, the same chair where Mom used to read me bedtime stories. Her Louboutin heels crossed elegantly at the ankle, her cream designer dr
**Mia's POV**The silence in the room shattered at Kyle's words. My father's face drained of color as he stared at Kyle's hand gripping his wrist, recognition slowly dawning in his eyes."Kyle... Kyle Branson?" Dad's voice wavered, all his previous authority crumbling. The name carried weight - everyone in the business world knew what crossing a Branson meant."Mr. Hawthorne." Kyle's voice remained perfectly controlled, but ice cold. "I suggest you lower your hand. Now."Dad jerked away as if burned, his eyes darting between Kyle and me. "What are you doing here? This is a family—""Mia is my wife."The words fell like bombs in the elegant living room. I watched the impact ripple across their faces - Dad's jaw going slack, my stepmother's perfectly arranged features freezing in shock, Taylor's eyes widening in genuine surprise for once."Wife?" Dad choked out. "That's impossible. She's been—""We've been married for three years." Kyle's tone left no room for argument. His stance was pr
Mia's POVI listen to my mother's phone conversation with her lawyer. I can tell she truly wants to send her ex-husband to prison. I sit on the sofa and try to find a comfortable position, as my belly is getting bigger and bigger. Gas lies at my feet.“Yes, I understand the implications,” Mom's voice came from the kitchen, her usual shrill tone when she was dealing with legal matters. ”But I need the records from 1995 to 2000. All of them.”Gas nudged my ankle with his nose, placed his favorite rope toy on my lap, and his eyes filled with hope. I smiled and picked up the worn-out piece of string. Our games had become more gentle since I became pregnant. Gas had made his compromises for me.“Be careful, Mommy,” I murmured as we played a modified version of catch, throwing the toy very close. Gas ran over happily.I picked up the stack of papers Mom had left on the coffee table: bank statements, property records. Mom had really done her work.I flipped to “James Young Investigation,” th
*Mia's POV*I decided to take a nap, but then I suddenly realized something. Kyle didn't say anything about Taylor bumping into me yesterday. It was almost the first time he had ignored Taylor. With second thought. Of course he hadn't mentioned Taylor. He no longer saw Taylor as the girl. Naturally, he wasn't interested in Taylor anymore. He now knew that I was the girl.It seemed like I had finally defeated Taylor. I'd finally "won." But the thought didn't make me feel happy at all. Kyle's love had become something cheap, as it wasn't love at all."Nate?" My voice sounded small in the quiet car. "Have you ever been in love?"He glanced at me briefly. For a moment, I thought he wouldn't answer. I don't know why but I thought he must have felt that I was stupid.But he still answered, ‘Yes.” The word held weight, like stones dropping into still water."What was it like?" I pressed. "How did you know it was real?"His hands tightened slightly on the steering wheel. "You're really aski
*Mia's POV*The café was exactly halfway between our old house and my new apartment. Neutral territory, my lawyer had called it when suggesting the location. Through the window, I could already see Kyle at a corner table, looking impeccable as always in one of his perfectly tailored suits. He was early.My phone buzzed with a message from Robert: *Remember, you're not obligated to agree to anything today. This is just a preliminary discussion.*I took a deep breath, smoothing my sweater over my clearly visible bump. No point trying to hide it now—my pregnant status was splashed across every gossip site and society blog in the city. The headlines ranged from sympathetic ("Pregnant Ex-Wife of Business Tycoon Targeted in Shocking Attack") to scandalous ("Kyle Branson's Secret Love Child Drama").Kyle stood as I approached, something flickering in his eyes as they dropped to my stomach. For a moment, neither of us spoke."You're looking well," he said finally, his voice carefully neutral.
*Mia's POV*The banging continued, each thud making my heart race faster. My father's voice carried through the door, that familiar entitled tone that had terrorized my teenage years: "Mia Williams, open this door immediately!"I caught Mom's eye across the room. Her face had gone hard. After my mother regained consciousness, she never saw my father again. I don't know what my mother's feelings were like. I know that she, too, once prayed for her husband's love, just like I did. But my father was clearly a complete user. He may even have tried to kill her to get her property."Stay seated," she told me firmly, her voice brooking no argument. "Your ankle needs rest.""I'll handle this," Mom said, her chin lifting as she moved toward the door with surprising grace despite her own injured ankle. Scarlett squeezed my hand.Mom opened the door just enough to reveal my father's imposing figure. He stood there in one of his expensive suits, designer briefcase in hand, looking every inch the
Mia's POVMorning brought a fresh wave of chaos. Scarlett arrived like a hurricane at 7 AM, somehow having convinced the police officer to let her in. She burst into my bedroom, still wearing what looked like resort clothes, her face bare of makeup and creased with worry."Oh my god!" She flung herself onto my bed, barely missing Gas, who scrambled away with an indignant huff. "I almost had a heart attack when I saw the news! Are you okay? Let me see your ankle. Did they get that bitch in jail? I swear to god, Mia, if you ever keep something like this from me again—""Scarlett," I managed, sitting up groggily. "Breathe.""Breathe? BREATHE?" She pulled back to glare at me. "My best friend almost gets murdered and you want me to breathe?""Yes, because you're going to hyperventilate." I grabbed her flailing hands. "I'm okay. Really. Just a sprained ankle and some bruises."She studied my face intently, as if looking for hidden damage. Finally, her shoulders slumped. "I was so scared," s
Mia's POVI stared at the message, my mind racing. There were only two options: reply or ignore. Either way, Kyle would eventually confront me about the twins. The question was whether I wanted that confrontation on my terms or his.I need to call Robert. If Kyle's going to push for custody, I need to be prepared.I thought for a moment, then typed: *Not tonight, Kyle. I need rest. We can talk tomorrow.*His response came instantly: *Are you alright?*The simple question caught me off guard. Was it concern for me, or for his unborn children? I hesitated and decided not to reply.Three dots appeared, disappeared.Nate cleared his throat. "You should try to sleep. Both of you." He glanced between Mom and me. "Will you be okay if I leave? I can stay if you're concerned about security.""The police officer is outside," Mom reminded him. "And Gas is better than any security system."At the sound of his name, Gas's tail thumped against the couch cushions."Besides," I added, "you've already
Mia's POVThe journalists wanted to eat me.Martinez frowned. "We can take you in through the service entrance.""I'll handle them," Nate said firmly. "You focus on getting Mia inside safely."He stepped out first, Gas at his heels. The reporters descended immediately, microphones extended, questions overlapping:"Sir, what's your connection to Mia Williams?""Is it true Taylor Matthews attempted murder?""Dr. Pierce, are you and Ms. Williams romantically involved?"Martinez held up his hands, his posture straight and commanding. "Ms. Williams has no comment at this time. She's been through a traumatic experience and asks for privacy as she recovers."His authoritative tone made several reporters step back. Gas positioned himself protectively between the cameras and the car door as Martinez helped me out. The flashes were blinding, making me stumble slightly."Ms. Williams! Is it true you're pregnant?"The question hit like ice water. I froze."No questions," Martinez said firmly, shi
**Mia's POV**Officer Martinez guided me back toward the squad car. I glanced back at our apartment building."Don't you want to spare her worry?" Officer Martinez asked, following my gaze. Her badge caught the afternoon sunlight as she shifted, the name "Martinez" gleaming against the metal."Yeah. She's still recovering. She doesn't need this kind of stress right now." A strange calm settled over me. After everything that had happened.I felt almost detached. Martinez nodded. "We'll need you to come to the station and make a formal statement. The paramedics can examine you more thoroughly there.""Okay." We reached the patrol car. Taylor was already secured in the back of another vehicle. Martinez followed my gaze. "We'll charge her with attempted murder, and possibly other offenses, pending our review of the surveillance footage. The prosecutor will determine the final charges." She helped me toward the passenger side door. "Do you have a lawyer?""Yes. I'll call them from the sta
*Mia's POV*Time slowed to a crawl as I watched Taylor's Porsche barreling toward me. My body moved on instinct, survival reflexes kicking in despite my awkward pregnant state. I threw myself sideways, rolling onto the grass strip beside the walkway. The impact sent shooting pain through my ankle, but the soft ground cushioned my fall enough to protect my stomach.The horrific screech of metal on concrete filled the air as Taylor's car slammed into the retaining wall. The sound of the crash echoed off nearby buildings, followed by the tinkle of shattered glass hitting pavement.My hands immediately went to my belly, checking for any signs of distress from the babies. They shifted normally - if anything, more active than usual from the adrenaline coursing through my system. My ankle throbbed, but that was secondary to ensuring my children were safe.With trembling fingers, I pulled out my phone and dialed 911."911, what's your emergency?""Someone just tried to run me over," I said, k