Mia's POVI sat up so quickly the room spun, grabbing the tablet with suddenly trembling hands. The article was from the New York Times, dated this morning:Richard Williams, founder of Williams Construction Group, was arrested yesterday evening on charges of attempted murder and financial fraud. Williams, 62, is accused of orchestrating the "accident" that left his first wife, Sarah Williams, in a coma for over a decade. The arrest comes after months of investigation prompted by Sarah Williams' miraculous recovery earlier this year.Sources close to the investigation reveal that financial records indicate Williams may have been systematically embezzling from his wife's considerable family holdings during her incapacitation, using the funds to shore up his failing business ventures.Williams' second wife, Helen Porter-Williams, has also been taken in for questioning. Legal experts suggest she may face charges of conspiracy and financial fraud.The Williams Construction Group has issue
Mia's POVI'd been staring at my laptop screen for nearly an hour, cursor blinking at the end of an email I'd drafted, rewritten, and edited at least a dozen times. My acceptance letter to Bernard Leblanc.A sharp kick near my ribs made me wince. "Easy there," I murmured, rubbing the spot. "Mom's trying to make a life decision here."I glanced at the clock. 7:42 AM. Scarlett was probably still asleep after our late night discussion about my father's arrest. I was happy for my mother. But I woke up earlier than usual anyway.My phone buzzed with an incoming text from Mom.Are you okay, sweetheart? I know it's early there, but I figured you might be awake processing everything.Mom probably sensed my slight tension. Her intuition is second to none. My thumbs hovered over the screen as I considered how to respond. Finally, I typed:I'm okay. Working on my acceptance email to Bernard Leblanc right now.Her response came quickly: That's wonderful! Trust your instincts, Mia. You've always k
Mia's POVKyle has spared no effort to show his generosity.I downloaded the attached documents, giving them a quick review. I sent a brief acknowledgment:Kyle,Thank you for the documents. I'll review them with my attorney when we return to New York and get back to you with any questions or concerns.MiaI kept my professionalism. I wanted to teach Kyle about boundaries. He wanted to spill the money, but I still wanted to maintain my dignity.With my inbox cleared, I turned my attention to preparing for our last night in Paris. Scarlett had left a garment bag hanging on my closet door with a note attached: "Wear this tonight. Trust me."Inside was a beautiful emerald green dress I'd admired during our shopping expedition but had deemed too extravagant. The cut was perfect for my pregnancy—elegant without trying to hide my bump, comfortable without looking matronly.Another note fluttered from the fabric: "Consider it an early push present. From your eternally stylish best friend who
Mia's POVI stared at the message. I took a screenshot and forwarded it to my lawyer with a brief message:Received this just now from unknown number. Likely Taylor or associate. Please document for potential restraining order.Then I blocked the number, set my phone aside, and crawled into bed.I sat on the bed, thinking about the moment Taylor sent this message. Although I'm not 100% sure it's her. But undoubtedly, she is the likeliest person. Threatening and manipulating are her favorite tricks. The only difference is that I'm no longer afraid. I figured something out. I don't need Taylor to realize that she's done wrong. I don't need her to apologize. I just need to make the people who hurt me pay the price they deserve. An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth.I need to sleep. Tomorrow, after discussing work with Bernard Leblanc, I can go home. Although I have only been gone for less than two weeks, I miss my mother and Gas. A lot.I close my eyes, letting the city's magic seep in
Mia's POVI text Scarlett that I'm done with work. She responds quickly.Great! Lunch at that little place with the amazing onion soup? Last chance for authentic French cuisine before returning to land of bagels and pizza.Sounds perfect, I replied, smiling at her priorities.Back in my suite, I found most of my belongings already neatly packed, the hotel staff having worked their magic while I was at my meeting. Only a small suitcase remained open for last-minute items and tomorrow's travel outfit.I carefully placed the sketchbook from Bernard in my carry-on, along with my tablet and the few other items I'd need for the flight. The job offer letter and contract were safely tucked into a folder, ready for my lawyer to review upon our return to New York.A knock at my door announced Scarlett's arrival. She swept in wearing a chic travel outfit that somehow looked both comfortable and runway-ready."There you are!" she exclaimed. "Tell me everything about the meeting. What projects wil
Mia's POVI sleep for several hours on the flight, waking only when the lunch service began."Feeling okay?" Scarlett asked, returning from a brief visit to the front of the cabin where Thomas was working on his laptop."Better than expected," I admitted. "Thank you and your husband for the first-class cabin."“That's what he should do, otherwise I won't marry him,” Scarlett said, pointing at her ring.I nodded, ”Very convincing.”"Not much longer," she assured me, checking her watch. "About two hours until we land."As if on cue, my phone buzzed with an incoming email. The airplane's Wi-Fi allowing me to stay connected despite being somewhere over the Atlantic. It was from my lawyer:Mia,Update on the situation with Taylor Matthews. She has been released on bail but with significant restrictions—surrender of passport, ankle monitor, no contact orders for you and your mother. Her attorney is positioning this as a misunderstanding, claiming she was an unwitting teenager manipulated by
Kyle's POVThe amber liquid in my glass caught the light as I swirled it, watching the way it clung to the crystal before settling. Macallan 25, a formidable scotch with notes of dried fruits and oak. I took another measured sip."She's back, you know."I looked up to find Morton watching me. My longtime business partner, occasional adversary, and perhaps the closest thing I had to a genuine friend. Currently, he was leaning back in his leather chair, nursing his own scotch.We were seated in the private lounge of The Metropolitan Club, where generations of New York's financial elite had conducted their affairs away from public scrutiny. The oak-paneled walls, leather furnishings, and discreet staff created an atmosphere of exclusivity that had always suited my preference for privacy."I'm aware," I replied, keeping my tone neutral despite the way my pulse had quickened at the mere allusion to Mia.Morton raised an eyebrow. "And?""And nothing." I set my glass down with precise contro
Mia's POVThe twins were already awake, their movements gentle but persistent beneath my ribs. "Good morning to you two," I murmured.The smell of coffee wafted from the kitchen. The real coffee, not the decaf I'd been restricted to. That meant mom was up. I carefully pushed myself to sitting. Gas immediately perked up, his tail thumping against the mattress as he watched me with adoration."Yes, we're getting up," I told him, scratching behind his ears. "Wanna play?"I slipped on my robe and made my way to the kitchen, Gas trotting faithfully at my heels. Mom stood at the counter, butter knife in hand, spreading something on toast. She looked up at my entrance, her face lighting with a smile that still caught me off guard sometimes. To have her back in my life."There you are," she said. "I was wondering if jet lag would keep you in bed all day.""The smell of breakfast was too tempting," I replied, easing myself onto a kitchen stool.Mom slid a plate of toast in front of me. whole gr
Mia's POVA week had passed since the twins were born, and my body was slowly healing. Today had been a good day. I'd spent the morning in the NICU with Alexander and Ethan. Both boys were showing improvement—Alexander had been taken off the ventilator yesterday, now breathing with just a little oxygen support. Ethan was still on the ventilator, but the doctors said his lungs were getting stronger every day. I'd been able to hold Alexander for the first time, his tiny body nestled against my chest during our first skin-to-skin contact. The feelings that washed over me were indescribable.Kyle's absence lingered. He hadn't called. I'd tried reaching him twice more, but each time I only got his private nurse, who assured me he was "resting" or "in physical therapy.""It's okay," I said, more to myself than to my mother. "He's recovering too."I was so lost in these thoughts that I almost didn't hear the knock at my door."Come in," I called, expecting Mom or Scarlett with the afternoon
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