Kyle's POV The scotch burns a path down my throat. Glass after glass. The bottle's nearly empty now, but the anger still burns hotter than the alcohol. Divorce. The word echoes in my mind, mocking my control. How dare she? After everything I've given her—the lifestyle, the security, the position—she dares to ask for a divorce? My office is too quiet. Too dark. The city lights spread out below my penthouse window, a sea of possibilities I've always controlled. Until now. I pour another glass. My hand is steady, even if my thoughts aren't. "Is everything a game to you, Mia?" The words taste bitter in the empty room. "Didn't you say you loved me?" The memory of her in that hospital bed flashes unbidden. Pale. Broken. Different from the Mia I know. The Mia who always smiled, no matter how cold I was. The Mia who looked at me like I was worth something more than my bank account. My phone buzzes. Taylor. Again. I stare at her name on the screen until it goes dark. Strange.
Mia's POVMy palm stung from the force of the slap, but the pain was nothing compared to the turmoil in my chest. Kyle's kiss still burned on my lips, a ghost of passion that meant nothing. That had always meant nothing. The taste of expensive scotch lingered on my tongue, bitter like the memories we'd shared."Don't touch me again." My voice came out steadier than I felt, ice coating each word. Inside, my traitorous heart still raced from his proximity, from the familiar scent of his cologne, from the way his body had pressed against mine. Old habits die hard, it seems. "I'm not your toy anymore, Kyle."His fingers touched his reddened cheek, storm clouds gathering in those grey eyes I'd once found so captivating. The slight tick in his jaw betrayed his anger . I knew all his tells by now, every minute expression that revealed the emotions he tried so hard to hide."You're being ridiculous," he growled, taking a step toward me. "This tantrum needs to stop."I backed away, my legs hit
Mia's POV"I brought your favorite flowers today, Mom." My voice echoed in the sterile hospital room as I arranged fresh lilies in the vase. "The florist said they just got them in this morning. Remember how you used to grow them in our garden? Before..."I trailed off, settling into the chair beside her bed. The monitors beeped steadily, their rhythm a poor substitute for her voice."The doctors say you can hear me," I continued, taking her hand. "I hope that's true because I need to tell you something. I need to tell you how sorry I am."My thumb traced patterns on her palm, the way she used to do when I was little. "I failed you, Mom. Everything you warned me about, everything you tried to protect me from – I walked right into it anyway.""I know I have told you a lot of times. Mom, you're the only one I can talk to about this. I married him, Mom. I married a man who doesn't love me. Just like you and Dad." My voice cracked. "I thought I could change him. Isn't that ridiculous? I w
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 POVI was finally strong enough to be wheeled to the NICU. The actual sight of my sons—not through a screen—overwhelmed me completely. They were impossibly small. Baby A seemed more active, his little fists waving. Baby B was quieter, more still."Can I touch them?" I asked the nurse."Yes, through the ports. But hygiene is crucial."I reached through the isolette opening for Baby A. His skin was warm, softer than anything I'd ever felt. When I touched his palm, his fingers curled around mine."Hi, baby," I whispered. "I'm your mama."The tears came then, pouring out."Careful," the nurse reminded gently. "We can't let any fluids inside the isolette. Premature babies have extremely compromised immune systems."I nodded, wiping my face with my other hand before reaching for Baby B. He was equally tiny, equally perfect."Have you thought about names?" the nurse asked."Not
Mia's POV"Mia?" The voice was far away. Familiar but distorted.I tried to respond, but my throat was sandpaper. Where was I? What happened?"Mia, sweetie. Can you hear me?" Closer now. Mom's voice. But different. Strained.Slowly, I forced my eyes open. The fluorescent lights above were too bright. I blinked rapidly, tears forming as my vision adjusted."Oh, thank God." That was Scarlett. "She's awake."The room came into focus gradually. Hospital room. Machines everywhere. Tubes running from my arms. A catheter. The smell of antiseptic was overwhelming."What..." My voice came out as a rasp. "What happened?""Shhh." Mom's cool hand on my forehead. "Don't try to talk yet.""Kyle," I managed to croak. "Where's Kyle?"Mom and Scarlett exchanged a glance."Mia, honey, you need to stay calm," Mom said."My babies." Panic rose in my chest. "The twins. Where are they?""They're fine," Scarlett said quickly. "Both of them. Healthy and perfect.""How long have I been...""Three days," Mom s
Kyle's POVPain. My eyelids felt like lead weights, but I forced them open anyway.Hospital room. Stark white. The antiseptic smell burned my nostrils. A heart monitor beeped steadily beside my bed, its rhythm matching the throbbing in my chest. I tried to move, but tubes and wires restrained me. My throat was sandpaper dry when I swallowed."Mr. Branson?" A voice. Female. Sharp. "Sir, can you hear me?""Mia," I croaked. God, my voice sounded like gravel. "Where is she? Is she—""Please don't try to sit up, sir." The nurse—young, efficient-looking—pressed her hand gently on my shoulder. "You've had major surgery.""Answer me.""I'll get the doctor immediately."A doctor bustled in. Older man, silver at his temples. Professional mask in place. "Mr. Branson, I'm Dr. Harrison. You've been through extensive surgery. The bullet—""I don't care about the bullet. I want to know what happen to my wife"Dr. Harrison exchanged a look with the nurses. My stomach dropped. No."Your wife..." He pa
Mia's POVPain unlike anything I'd ever known tore through my body, a white-hot blade slicing from my spine to my abdomen. The contractions were relentless now, coming one after another without respite, each one stronger than the last. I could feel myself slipping, the edges of my consciousness growing dim."Her blood pressure is dropping again—80/40," a nurse called out, her voice tight with tension. "Heart rate 135.""She's hemorrhaging," Dr. Levine's voice cut through the haze. "Looks like a partial placental abruption. We need to get these babies out now."A mask was placed over my face, the rush of oxygen cool against my skin. The room swam before my eyes, faces blurring into indistinct shapes as blood loss pulled me closer to unconsciousness."Type and cross for four units of packed cells, two units of fresh frozen plasma, and one unit of platelets," Dr. Levine ordered. "And get me an OR. We're doing an emergency C-section."My body felt foreign to me now—heavy and light simulta
Kyle's POVPain. Unimaginable pain.My consciousness came in waves, each one bringing a fresh torrent of agony. The bullet had torn through me like fire, leaving devastation in its wake. I could hear voices around me, urgent and clinical, but they seemed to be coming from underwater, distorted and distant."BP dropping again!""More blood, now!""We're losing him!"I felt myself slipping. The pain began to recede, replaced by a strange weightlessness that should have alarmed me but instead felt oddly peaceful. Was this what dying felt like?The operating room faded around me. The harsh lights, the metallic clink of instruments, the desperate commands of the surgical team. All of it dissolved into a soft darkness.And then, unexpectedly, light.I was small again. Six years old, terrified, huddled in the corner of a damp warehouse. The ropes had cut into my wrists, leaving them raw and bleeding. I could still feel the ache of hunger, the desperate thirst that had made my tongue stick to
Mia's POV"KYLE!" My scream echoed through the hospital corridor as they wheeled him away, his blood leaving a horrifying trail on the white floor. The medical team moved with terrifying urgency, their faces grim."BP critical at 70/30!" "He's tachycardic, pulse 140!" "Blood loss approximately two liters!" "Move, people! We're losing him!"I lunged forward, desperate to reach him, my hands outstretched toward his motionless form. His face had turned an ashen gray, lips tinged blue, eyelids still. So still. Not like Kyle at all."Ma'am, STOP!" A nurse blocked my path as they rushed Kyle through swinging doors marked AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY. "You can't go in there.""He's dying!" I sobbed, my voice breaking. "He took that bullet for me!""If you want him to live, you need to let the surgical team work," she said firmly, gripping my shoulders. "And you—" her eyes dropped to my blood-spattered belly, "—need immedia
Kyle's POVMia.She was alive.The maintenance door opened into a utility closet adjacent to the main room. Through a narrow ventilation grille, I could see part of the penthouse interior—plush furnishings, expensive artwork. A man's voice continued speaking, the tone cultured and cold."...the Branson bloodline ends today."I'd heard enough.The door burst open under my shoulder, splinters flying as the reinforced wood gave way. The scene unfolded before me with crystal clarity—Mia, bound and terrified. Charles Porter, gun raised. Nate Pierce, lunging forward too late.My first shot took Porter in the shoulder, spinning him away from Mia. The second caught him in the upper chest, not immediately fatal but debilitating.Our eyes locked across the room—his filled with shock and hatred, mine with the cold certainty of a man protecting what was his."Kyle," Mia gasped, her voice breaking through the ringing in my ears.Porter recovered with surprising speed, raising his weapon toward me
Kyle's POVTime became a physical entity, something I could feel slipping through my fingers as I raced across the Atlantic. Seven hours had never felt so eternal.As soon as the plane touched down in New York, I was already on my phone. "Status update," I demanded, not bothering with pleasantries."No response from Ms. Williams," Matthew replied, his usual professional detachment wavering slightly. "Her phone appears to be turned off. We've checked her apartment—she's not there. Her mother hasn't seen her since this morning.""And Nate Pierce?""Still tracking. His digital footprint is... unusual. Almost professionally scrubbed.""What about the surveillance feeds? I know you have access."Matthew hesitated. "We've been searching traffic cameras near her building, sir. Nothing conclusive yet.""Keep looking," I said, already striding toward the waiting car. "And tell the security team at her apartment to stay alert. I want to know the instant she returns."But she hadn't returned. Fo
Mia's POVThrough my tears, I recognized the man—it was Nate.I hadn't seen him in so long, and he seemed different from the Nate I remembered. Seemed thiner, taller. His usually compassionate features were hardened.My heart surged with relief and confusion. Had he come to save me?"Uncle Charles, don't kill her," Nate said, his voice steady but urgent.Uncle Charles? I blinked in confusion, my mind struggling to process this new information as it tried to fit the pieces together.The man named Charles turned to face me, sizing me up through the rim of his glass. "Wasn't that your decision? You lost Carol, and now you want Alexander Branson and Kyle Branson to lose their wives too. An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth."My head was about to explode. The fragments suddenly aligned, and I finally understood the truth.Diana's daughter was Carol.Carol was Nate's wife.Nate's expression was filled with sorrow. He looked at me, then back at Charles, his posture tense with indecision.C