Mia's POV"Don't react," I tell myself, my fingers hovering over the keyboard. "Don't give them what they want."But I can't stop scrolling. It's like watching a car crash—horrifying, but impossible to look away from. Every news site, every gossip blog, every social media platform seems to be exploding with "breaking news" about the scandalous gold-digger who trapped billionaire CEO Kyle Branson with a pregnancy.Me.The New York Times article is predictably more restrained than the tabloids, presenting "allegations" and "sources close to the family" rather than outright character assassination. Still, the implications are clear: I manipulated my way into Kyle's life, used my position as his secretary to seduce him, orchestrated a pregnancy to secure my financial future, and am now engaged in a bitter custody battle while carrying his children.The headline stares back at me: "Branson Billions Battle: The Secretary, The Scandal, and the Surrogate Mother Claims."Surrogate mother claim
Mia's POV Mom studies my face for a long moment, then sighs. "I'll call Edmund. At least he's a security-cleared driver." "Thank you." I grab my purse and phone, relieved to avoid further argument. Mom makes the call, her voice clipped as she arranges for Edmund to pick me up immediately. When she hangs up, she turns to me with a stern expression. "One hour. That's all. Then you come straight back here to rest." "One hour," I agree, knowing better than to push my luck. Gas whines as he watches me prepare to leave, clearly unhappy about being left behind. "Sorry, buddy," I tell him, crouching awkwardly to give him a quick hug. "I'll be back soon. Take care of Grandma for me." The doorbell rings—Edmund arriving more quickly than I'd expected. Mom gives me one last searching look. "Be careful," she says quietly. "And call me if you need anything—anything at all." "I will," I promise, kissing her cheek before heading for the door. Edmund greets me with professional co
Mia's POV"Are you okay?" Scarlett asked, noticing that I had fallen silent.I blinked, pulling myself back from the spiral of thoughts threatening to drag me under. The conference room felt too small suddenly, the air too thick despite the building's perfect ventilation system."I'm fine," I lied, shifting in the plush executive chair that was still somehow uncomfortable against my aching back. "I just want to see Kyle."Scarlett studied me with the intense scrutiny that only lifelong friends can get away with, her eyes narrowing slightly."Okay," she said finally. "But promise me one thing, alright?""What?""If things get out of hand, or if the press seems to have noticed your presence, you have to leave immediately. No arguments."I nodded. "I promise." The last thing I wanted was to appear in tomorrow's tabloids, looking emotional and desperate as I confronted my ex-husband. It would only reinforce Taylor's narrative of me
Mia's POVThe car ride home fast. I can't stop seeing them. Kyle and that woman, even when I close my eyes.Why am I so angry? Kyle and I are divorced. He's free to see whoever he wants, talk to whoever he wants, laugh with whoever he wants."You're awfully quiet," Scarlett raised eyebrow.When we arrive at my building, Edmund jumps out to open my door."I'll come up with you," Scarlett says, not a question but a statement."You don't have to. Scar, I know you need to get back to the office. I already felt that I owe you so much." I leaned over and gave her a hugShe just told me she would always be there. My dear Scarlett.Mom is waiting when we enter the apartment, her expression is a I-told-you-so. Gas bounds over, his entire body wiggling with delight at my return. At least someone is happy to see me."How did it go?" Mom asks, watching as I lower myself onto the sofa."It didn't. Kyle was in meetings. I didn't see him." I said."I told you it was a waste of time," Mom says, "You
Mia's POVUnderstanding then happiness in his face. "You saw me in the hallway."It's not a question, but I nod anyway.Kyle visibly brightened up. "You saw me in the hallway." He repeated.I wanted to tell him that I was not deaf.But he quickly added, "With Alexis Moore," he continues. "My new PR director.""Oh. "I looked away. “Okay.”So that's who she is. His PR director. I keep my expression carefully neutral. "It doesn't matter who she is, Kyle. I just needed to know what you're doing about these articles. The lies they're spreading about me. About us."I could tell Kyle was studying my expression carefully. “Are you jealous, Mia?”I rolled my eyes. This bastard. "I think I should tell my mom that the five minutes are up."He stopped me.He cleared his throat. "That's exactly what Alexis and I were discussing," he says. "Our strategy for addressing the media situation.""And?" I prompt when he doesn't continue."And I'm handling it," he says. "Robert is filing injunctions, as I'
Mia's POVI wake before my alarm, the twins already active. Gas lifts his head from his spot at the foot of the bed, watching as I push myself up with a quiet groan."Morning, buddy," I murmur, scratching behind his ears.My phone chimes with an incoming email as I'm brushing my teeth. From Kyle's assistant, Linda:Subject: Statement for Review As requested, please find attached the statement that will be released to the press at 9:00 AM. Mr. Branson would appreciate your feedback as soon as possible, if you have any concerns.I finish brushing my teeth before opening the attachment, taking a deep breath as I prepare for whatever Kyle has concocted as damage control.The statement is brief, professional, and surprisingly straightforward:"Branson Industries wishes to address recent speculation regarding the personal life of CEO Kyle Branson.The marriage between Kyle Branson and Mia Williams was a genuine relationship entered i
Mia's POVWhat the fuck with Kyle?My phone rings—Scarlett. I answer on autopilot, still reeling from what I've just read."Tell me you're watching this," she says without greeting. "Kyle has lost his fucking mind.""I saw the article," I manage. "Is it—is it really as bad as it sounds?""Worse," she assures me. "He's on every major news channel right now. I'm sending you the video."Moments later, my phone pings with an incoming message. I open it with trembling fingers, bracing myself for whatever I'm about to see.The video shows Kyle standing at a podium bearing the Branson Industries logo, his expression serious but determined. He looks immaculate as always, in a perfectly tailored suit that emphasizes his broad shoulders and lean frame. But there's something different about him—an intensity, a barely contained energy that radiates through the screen."Good morning," he begins, his deep voice steady. "I a
**Mia's POV**Fury doesn't begin to describe what I'm feeling. The media is going to be all over this. They're going to be all over me.Thanks for Kyle Branson's grand gesture, apparently.I tries to calm myself down , taking a deep breath. Getting worked up isn't good for the twins. Dr. Matthews would have my head if my blood pressure skyrocketed again."I need to call him," I decide suddenly. "Right now.""Mia—" Scarlett begins, but I've already ended our call.My fingers move on autopilot, pulling up Kyle's contact information. His newest number, the "secure" one he texted me after his previous phone was compromised. I hit dial before I can talk myself out of it.The line rings once, twice, and I rehearse the blistering tirade I'm about to unleash. How dare he hijack our carefully worded statement with this self-indulgent performance? Three rings, four. Maybe he's still in the press conference. Maybe he's being mobbed by journalists demanding more details.I hang up before the ca
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