Novels by Mia

Aubrey's POV"He has received your invitation, young lady, Aubrey," Charlotte, my assistant, said with a slight bow.I nodded and took a sip of my coffee, crossing my legs. "That's all, Charlotte," I said, waving my hand dismissively.Charlotte nodded and turned to leave. The maids cleared the tray off my front and walked out one after the other.I let out a deep sigh as I lay in bed, staring at the ornate ceiling. A smirk spread across my face, and I chuckled to myself."I can't wait to see the look on Dario's face when he finds out who I really am," I thought, imagining the shock and surprise that would be written all over his face.I widened my eyes, trying to picture the exact expression he would have. Suddenly, I burst out laughing at the thought of how Alissa and Emma would react. They would be completely shocked and caught off guard."They won't know what hit them," I said to myself, grinning mischievously. "This is just the beginning."I woke up to the sound of Aurora's cheerf

Aubrey POV"Welcome back, Young Lady Aubrey!" A sweet voice awakened me from my slumber. It feels so wonderful to be home.I still vividly recall the years when I was forced to sleep on the bare floor in a storeroom, working tirelessly just to be with a man.Now, I have returned to my rightful position as the Heiress of the Carver Family. The wealthiest family in London."Good morning, Aurora." I replied to the young lady whose duty it is to wake me up every morning. She is such a sweet and beautiful lady."Madam wants you to join them for breakfast. They are waiting in the dining hall." She said, smiling widely at me. I am sure she missed me dearly."Thank you," I said, smiling back at her. I will join them shortly."She exited the room.I rose from the royal-sized bed, yawning lazily and stretching myself like a baby.I stepped into the bathroom, greeted by the opulent sight of gleaming marble floors and walls adorned with intricate gold trimmings.Stripping off my nightwear, I slid

Dario POV"Finally! The pauper is out of our lives!" Sofia exclaimed joyfully as she approached where I stood, observing the scenario that just unfolded. "Now, I have you all to myself." She kissed me."I have always been yours, my darling." I smiled, wrapping my hands around her waist. I kissed her passionately."Use your room kids!" My grandmother exclaimed.We all burst into laughter.I carried her into our room, where we engaged in an extended session of lovemaking.Next morning, after breakfast, I got into the car, ready for work when my driver said something unbelievable."Sir, I think madam Bella is not who she claimed to be." He said, with a look of uncertainty. "What makes you say that?" I retorted impatiently as I was running late for work. "She might not be the poor countryside girl she claimed to be." He replied."Tell me why you said that! I'm running out of time!" I snapped, shutting the car door with annoyance."Last night, as she departed the mansion, I observed a car

Aubrey POV"Dario?"I looked up immediately from the floor where I sat crying.It wasn't the slaps that pained me, but the sufferings I went through, only for me to be dumbed like rubbish.I cleaned my tears. That voice sounded horribly familiar.What is she doing here?I was shocked at who I saw standing at the door."I want her out, I am here to stay!" She exclaimed.I smirked. "Who does she think she is?"I'm still legally married to Dario as long as I haven't signed the divorce papers. She was Dario's classmate in college. I hated the fact that he liked her and not me.Well, I still hate her cause even after all my sacrifices to prove myself better than her, he still chose her in the end.Dario is mine! If I can't have him, no other woman will!Emma moved over to hold Sofia's hands. "Sofia, darling! Welcome! She exclaimed happily. How was your journey down here? I hope you aren't stressed out." She said softly.Never had I witnessed Emma speak with such sweetness and softness."Oh

Dario POVResentment simmered within me as I stared down at her.I never asked to be with this woman, but my grandfather insisted that I marry her, only then will I take over the family's business.I got a call from Sofia, my first love, four months ago, telling me to divorce Bella. Now that she is done with her degrees , she wants us to get married.Sofia approved of my marriage to Bella to ensure I wouldn't lose the CEO position to someone else."I have signed it, so you had better hurry up and sign it too. Besides, you have nothing to lose because I will compensate you with fifty million dollars and a villa. That should be enough to start a new life." I stated.Shouldn't that be sufficient to send a poor girl packing?She wasn't even interested in love; it was my money from the start, so there's really nothing to lose."After three years of marriage?" She asked after much silence, with tears rolling down her cheek. "This marriage is loveless, and you know it!" I snapped, causing he

Aubrey POVA glance at my image in the mirror can reveal how much suffering I have endured over the past few years. My once glowing skin has depleted.This is what loving a man has turned me into. I stood up from the cold floor of the store room, ready for the day. I had to wake up very early before anybody in the house in order to do the house chores and cook for the whole house. I have become a maid in my husband's house. I am married to the scion of the Fowlers' family. One of the rising families in London. But does it look like it? They don't treat me as the hostess of the family at all.You might be asking, "Why go through all this stress for a man whose family members treat you as shit?"I love him; that's the answer. He is my first love, whom I have loved since college. He was my senior, but I didn't care.When I saw the opportunity to marry him, I jumped at it without thinking it over. And I also don't care how harsh his family members treat me, as long as I get to be by his si

Chapter 8Rachel Bennett had been in the family for three weeks and she'd already decided the most important thing about being rich was that other people could tell.Not the money itself — the money was abstract, numbers on accounts she didn't fully understand yet, cards that worked everywhere without her having to check. It was the way people looked at her when she walked into a room in the right clothes. The way doors opened. The way salesgirls materialized. She'd spent eighteen years being looked through and she was done with it. Done. She wanted to be looked at and she wanted it constantly.So when Vivian mentioned the Hargrove luncheon — the kind of thing the Bennett women attended every season, forty guests, private dining room at the Aldren Club, the city's old money doing what old money did which was mostly sit in a room together and confirm each other's existence — Rachel said yes before Vivian finished the sentence."You'll need to be on your best behavior," Vivian said, in

Chapter 7Nicholas didn't go looking for information on Clara Howard the night of the reception.He waited two days. Which, for him, was unusual.He was not someone who let things sit. When something didn't add up he dealt with it — pulled the thread, found the end, moved on. It was how he'd run Evans Group since he was twenty-eight and it was how he ran most things in his life. Loose ends made him uncomfortable in a way he'd stopped apologizing for.Clara Howard was a loose end.He knew it the second she'd said *correcting something* and walked away. The way she'd said it — easy, clean, no drama behind it — like she was describing something as simple as returning a library book. But her eyes when she said it were something else entirely. Settled in a way that didn't come from nowhere. The kind of settled that comes after a decision has already been made and the only thing left is execution.He'd watched her work the Donwell rep from across the room. Fourteen minutes. The man had come

The Evans Group autumn reception was not the kind of event you showed up to uninvited. It was held every year in the top two floors of the Meridian Hotel, invitation only, the kind of guest list where every name on it knew every other name on it and newcomers got noticed immediately and sized up before they'd finished their first drink.Clara had been to it once before. In her last life, she'd attended as a Bennett — standing slightly behind Vivian, smiling when she was supposed to smile, invisible in the way that daughters who aren't quite daughters learn to be invisible. She'd watched from that careful distance as the city's money moved around the room, who approached whom first, who laughed too loud, who kept their back to the wall.She'd paid attention even then. She just hadn't had anywhere to put it yet.This time she walked in alone.Black dress, nothing showy. Hair up. The single piece of jewelry she wore was a slim bracelet that had belonged to Nancy's mother, old gold gone s

The registrar's office had moved over summer break and nobody had updated the school website. Clara found this out after climbing to the fourth floor, being told by a bored work-study student that it was actually on the seventh now, climbing three more floors, and arriving at a frosted glass door with a sign that said *Enrollment & Records* and a waiting area with four chairs and a number machine that printed numbers on the kind of thin thermal paper that curls at the edges.She took a number. Sat down. Opened her folder.She'd had the documents notarized twice because the first notary had stamped the wrong field. She'd caught it herself, gone back, gotten it fixed without making a fuss. That was three weeks ago. She'd been carrying the folder since then, checking it occasionally the way you check your pockets for your keys — not because you think they're gone, just because the cost of being wrong is too high.Number seven was being served. She was fourteen.She settled in and waited.

Ever since the day of the reunion, Clara had never slacked off—every single day, without fail, she'd give Sean Howard his acupuncture treatment.She even wrote out herbal prescriptions for Michael Howard to pick up, then personally brewed the medicinal mix for Sean's daily baths.That pungent, bitter scent of herbs filled the cramped little house, yet somehow, amidst all that, the Howards smelled something else—it was hope.Seeing that spark return to her parents' eyes, watching her siblings find newfound motivation because of her, Clara wasn't just determined to heal her father's legs—she wanted this family to live well, really live.That evening, while the whole family sat together planning out their expenses for next month, Clara quietly said, "I know things haven't been easy. From now on, let me help hold this family up."Everyone froze for a second—and then they all laughed.Nancy reached out and patted her head gently. "Silly girl, your dad, your siblings—we're all here. You jus

Nancy led Clara into the inner room a bit nervously, lifting the old but clean curtain. "Clara, this is your dad."Then she turned to the man lying in bed and added gently, "Honey, this is our daughter... Clara."The dim light flickered softly, casting shadows over the thin man propped against the bedframe, a light blanket covering his lower body. His face was pale, but his eyes—despite the years of illness—were unexpectedly clear. The moment he laid eyes on Clara, a light sparked in them. "Good... You're back, that's all that matters. Sorry I look like this, hope I didn't scare you."Clara's heart clenched a little at his plain, heartfelt words.Without any hesitation, she walked up and sat by the bed."Dad," she said naturally, like she'd called him that a thousand times before. "Can I take a look at your leg? I've studied a bit of medicine."Her words left everyone momentarily stunned—Sean, her father; Nancy; and even her older siblings: Michael, David, and Emily, who'd just gotten