**Mia's POV**"Mia Williams?" Dr. Nate Pierce's voice held a note of pleased recognition that made me pause. His ocean-blue eyes studied my face with unexpected warmth, as if seeing an old friend rather than a patient's family member."Actually, it's Branson now," I corrected automatically, though the name felt heavy on my tongue. "I'm sorry, but have we met before?"He smiled, and something about it transformed his already handsome face into something almost boyish. "Not personally, no. But I know your work. Your paintings, specifically - they're extraordinary."I blinked, caught off guard. Paintings? I hadn't touched a brush in years, not since... "There must be some mistake," I said carefully. "I haven't painted in a very long time.""The series you did for your final exhibition at university," he continued, pulling up a chair to join Dr. Matthews and me. "Particularly that piece with the old Victorian house at twilight - the way you captured the light through the broken windows,
**Kyle's POV**The medical report lay on my desk like a ticking bomb, its crisp pages rustling softly in the air-conditioned silence of my office. Taylor sat across from me, her usual confident posture replaced by something more fragile, more vulnerable. The late afternoon sun caught in her perfectly styled hair, creating a halo effect that reminded me of countless childhood memories."I didn't want to tell you," she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. Her fingers trembled as she reached for the report. "I thought I could handle it on my own, like I always have."I leaned forward, studying the medical terminology that jumped out from the pages. Cardiomyopathy. Stress-induced complications. Risk of acute cardiac event. The clinical language painted a stark picture of a condition that had apparently shadowed Taylor for the past twenty years."Why now?" I asked, my voice rougher than intended. "After all this time, why tell me now?"Taylor's lower lip quivered – a tiny gesture
**Mia's POV** The soft glow of my laptop screen illuminated the study as I immersed myself in the children's center project details Nate had sent. Five acres of possibility spread across my screen. Nature had already gifted us with mature oak trees standing like ancient guardians around the perimeter, their sprawling canopies offering the perfect foundation for what these children would need most: a sense of shelter without confinement, protection without isolation. The site's southern exposure was perfect, which means we could capture natural light throughout the day, letting sunshine become a healing element in itself. The existing topography practically begged for terraced healing gardens, creating intimate spaces that would feel both private and connected to the larger landscape. My pencil moved across the sketchpad as I explored possibilities for the central courtyard. The notification appeared in the corner of my screen with a soft chime. I almost ignored it, but the familiar
**Mia's POV**Time seemed to slow in that dimly lit kitchen as Kyle's weight pressed against me, the sharp scent of scotch mingling with his familiar cologne. His head rested heavy on my shoulder, dark hair tickling my neck as his breathing steadied."Kyle," I said softly, trying to shift his weight. "We need to get you upstairs."He stirred, lifting his head to look at me with unfocused eyes. In the soft glow of the kitchen lights, his usual sharp features had softened, making him look younger, almost vulnerable."Your eyes," he murmured, reaching up to trace my cheekbone with unsteady fingers. "So green. Like emeralds in sunlight." A crooked smile crossed his face. "Always loved your eyes."My heart clenched painfully. "Stop it." I caught his hand, pulling it away from my face. "You're drunk.""Mmm, maybe." He chuckled, the sound so unlike his usual controlled demeanor that it made my chest ache. "But I still know pretty eyes when I see them.""Kyle, please—""Stay." His fingers cur
**Mia's POV**The morning sun had barely risen when I settled at my desk, spreading out the preliminary sketches for the children's center. Steam rose from my coffee cup, curling in the early light as I reviewed my notes from yesterday.My phone rang, Scarlett's name flashing across the screen."That bastard actually agreed to the divorce?" Scarlett's voice was surprisingly calm, though I could hear the underlying tension."After my mother's surgery is complete," I said, reaching for my coffee. "He didn't even argue. Just said he'd have the papers drawn up.""Just like that? No conditions? No threats about the contract?""Nothing." I moved a sketch aside, focusing on the garden layout. "He just... agreed.""Well, that's... unexpected." A pause, then I heard rustling papers on her end. "Listen, I'm looking at my schedule. I can get you in to see Marcus - you remember my lawyer friend? - this afternoon.""Scarlett—""No, hear me out. He specializes in high-profile divorces. Knows exactl
**Mia's POV**The elevator doors opened to reveal a corridor that looked nothing like the sterile hospital hallways below. Rich mahogany paneling lined the walls, and original artwork hung in carefully curated groupings. My heels sank into plush carpeting as I made my way to Nate's office, my portfolio clutched like a shield against my chest.I paused before the heavy double doors, taking a steadying breath. Through the frosted glass, I could see movement - a tall figure pacing, gesturing as he spoke on the phone.Before I could knock, the door swung open. Nate stood there, phone still pressed to his ear, but his face lit up when he saw me. He gestured me in, mouthing "Just a moment" as he wrapped up his call."No, tell them Thursday won't work," he said, his voice carrying that easy authority I was beginning to recognize. "The equipment needs to be calibrated by someone who actually knows what they're doing, not just the lowest bidder." He paused, listening. "Exactly. Have Dr. Chen h
Mia's POVThe hospital corridor seemed to stretch endlessly, its polished floors reflecting the harsh fluorescent lights. I watched as they wheeled Mom through the double doors marked "Authorized Personnel Only," her small form dwarfed by the hospital bed. My fingers pressed against the cold glass of the observation window until she disappeared from view."Mrs. Branson?" A gentle touch on my arm made me turn. The nurse—her name tag read "Emma"—smiled warmly. "Why don't we get you settled in the waiting area? It's going to be a long surgery."I let her guide me to a private waiting room, noticing absently that it was far more luxurious than the standard hospital spaces. Plush chairs, soft lighting."Can I get you anything?" Emma asked. "Some hot chocolate perhaps? Or juice?""No, thank you." My voice sounded distant, even to my own ears.She frowned slightly. "You should try to eat something. Dr. Pierce mentioned you might skip breakfast. Let me at least bring you some tea."Before I c
Mia's POVConsciousness returned slowly, like swimming up through deep water. The first thing I noticed was the steady beeping of monitors—not my own, I realized, but from the bed next to mine."What happened?" I asked, my voice rough from sleep.A nurse appeared at my side, adjusting something on the monitor. "You fainted, dear. The stress and exhaustion finally caught up with you."I pushed myself up carefully, my head spinning slightly. "How long was I out?""Just a couple of hours." She helped arrange my pillows. "Dr. Pierce said it was pure exhaustion. When was the last time you ate anything?"I tried to remember but couldn't. The nurse clicked her tongue disapprovingly."That's what I thought. You need to rest and eat something substantial." She checked my vitals with efficient movements. "Your mother's doing very well, by the way. The surgery was completely successful."At the mention of Mom, I turned to study her in the next bed. She lay peaceful in the post-surgical quiet, he
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
Mia's POV"Ms. Williams? Are you alright?"I turned to find our building's doorman, Eduardo, watching me with concern."Yes," I managed, forcing a smile. "Just a little tired.""Let me help you with the door," he said, moving to hold it open."Thank you," I said, stepping into the building's lobby. "Eduardo, did you notice a blonde woman watching the building just now? Across the street?"He frowned, peering outside. "No, ma'am, I didn't see anyone suspicious. Would you like me to check?""No, that's alright." I didn't want to alarm him unnecessarily. "Probably just my imagination."But it wasn't my imagination, and we both knew it. Eduardo had been briefed on the security concerns regarding Taylor. His careful neutrality told me he was taking my question seriously."I'll keep an eye out," he promised, escorting me to the elevator. "And I'll alert the security team about possible suspicious activity."