A poignant and emotional tale about Mia, a woman trapped in a loveless marriage that was built on a business arrangement rather than affection. Married to Kyle Branson, a successful and detached businessman, Mia's life is an unacknowledged shadow to his true love—her younger stepsister, Taylor. When Mia unexpectedly discovers she is pregnant with twins, the news shakes her world, especially since her marriage contract forbids pregnancy. As Mia grapples with the reality of carrying Kyle's children, she faces not only the crushing weight of their cold, contractual relationship but also the sting of betrayal as Kyle continues his affair with Taylor. Mia’s internal battle intensifies as she navigates the emotional turmoil of being invisible to the man she once loved and the looming secret of her pregnancy.
View MoreMiaThe glass flew from my hand.I watched it tumble through the air. End over end. The vodka catching the colored lights from the pool. Creating a small arc of liquid that looked almost beautiful. Almost deliberate.Then I was falling.Not slow motion like in movies. Fast. Real. My stomach dropping. My arms reaching for something. Anything. Finding only air.The water hit like a wall.Cold.So cold it stole my breath. Shocked my system. Made every nerve ending scream.The impact drove me under. Deeper than I expected. My body plunging down into blue-green darkness. The colored lights from below turning everything into an aquarium. Into something that didn't feel real.Everything muted immediately.The music that had been vibrating my chest disappeared. Became dull thumps. Distant heartbeats. The bass still there but filtered. Softened. Like hearing it through walls.The voices—all those people la
Mia's POV"Better?" Kyle asked.His voice was low. Rough.His hands were still on my waist. Warm through the thin fabric of my dress. I could feel each individual finger. And the pressure.Just for a second, they lingered. His thumbs pressed gently against my ribcage. Not pulling me closer. Not pushing me away. Just—holding.Then they dropped."Much better," I said.My voice came out quieter than I meant it to. Softer. Like something had shifted in my throat without permission.Kyle bent down and picked up both shoes. My ridiculous heels that cost too much and hurt too much.He held them in one hand, the straps tangled together, dangling from his fingers."I'll carry these," he said.We kept walking.The path curved ahead of us, white marble glowing pale in the dark. On either side, the gardens stretched out. More manicured perfection. More expensive landscaping. Hedges shaped into geometric patterns. Flowers that probably had long Latin names.The sounds of the party drifted across t
Mia's POVThe reception tent dissolved into something else entirely.Not a tent anymore. A glass pavilion that opened onto a pool the size of a small lake.The water glowed. Actually glowed. Underwater lights in blues and greens that shifted slowly. Like the pool was breathing.To the left, white cabanas lined the pool's edge. Each one draped in silk that caught the breeze and billowed like sails. The fabric was thick enough to create privacy but sheer enough to let colored light filter through. Inside each cabana, I could see low couches piled with cushions. Small tables holding champagne buckets. Some were empty. Others held couples tangled together. Or small groups laughing over drinks.Little islands of privacy in all this public celebration.Actual couches built into the ground, upholstered in waterproof fabric that probably cost more than my car. Fire pits scattered between them, flames dancing in glass enclosures. People draped across the furniture like cats. Shoes abandoned. T
Mia's POV"Scarlett," I hissed.But she was grinning. That wicked grin that meant she was enjoying herself far too much.The string quartet had shifted into something more structured. Not the ceremony music yet. But getting close. That particular transition from background noise to actual performance.People were settling into their seats. The murmur of conversation was fading. Being replaced by that expectant hush.Sophie was still standing. Her red dress catching every possible ray of afternoon light. She turned in a slow circle. Taking in the venue. The roses. The silk. The chandeliers hanging from trees like someone had decided gravity was optional."This is magnificent," she announced to no one in particular. "Absolutely magnificent. Though I would have used more peonies. Roses are beautiful but predictable.""Nobody asked for your opinion on the florals," Thomas said."That's what makes it so valuable."Thomas opened his mouth. Closed it. Opened it again.Kyle's hand came up. To
Mia's POV"Nate!" I said again, because apparently my vocabulary had shrunk to one word.He smiled. That same gentle smile. "Hello, Mia." His voice was warm. Easy. "You look surprised.""I am surprised. I didn't know you'd be here.""Morton invited me. Well—technically Grace invited me.""Right. Of course." I was still processing. "You're back in Paris?""I am."Scarlett had turned around in her seat, her champagne glass paused halfway to her lips. Her eyes moved between us with that particular sharpness. Reading the room."Dr. Pierce," she said."Mrs. Morton." He smiled at her. "Or should I say Mrs. Morton-Wallace? I heard you and Morton reconciled.""Just Scarlett is fine." She took a sip of champagne. "And yes. We're giving it another try. Apparently, I'm a glutton for punishment."Morton made a sound beside her. Soft. Could have been laughter. Could have been protest."Glutton for love," Morton corrected."Same thing," Scarlett said cheerfully.I looked at Nate. The lines around
Mia's POVMadison stayed close to my side. Her hand found mine. Her palm was warm. Slightly damp."It's very fancy," she whispered."Very fancy," I agreed."Are we fancy enough to be here?"Are we fancy enough to be here?That's a question.The venue looked like someone had taken a page from Architectural Digest and decided money was no object whatsoever.No. Scratch that.It looked like someone had taken several pages from Architectural Digest, hired the ten most expensive wedding planners in Manhattan, and told them the budget was "yes."The gardens were geometric. Perfect. Like someone had taken a ruler to nature and told it to behave.White marble columns rose from the lawn like ancient Greek ruins that had been scrubbed clean and relocated to upstate New York.Crystal chandeliers hung from the trees. Each one caught the afternoon light and threw it back in a thousand directions. White silk draped between columns. The fabric moved in the breeze like it was breathing. Expensive bre
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