Mia's POV"Scarlett's sick?" I sat up straighter, worry immediately replacing my fatigue."She came down with something last night. Started with a headache, then progressed to a fever this morning." There was genuine concern in Morton's voice."Is she okay? Did you call a doctor?" The questions tumbled out of me in rapid succession."Dr. Klein saw her this morning. Nothing serious. But you know Scarlett—she's not exactly a model patient."I could almost see her, red hair wild against her pillows, indignantly refusing medicine and insisting she was perfectly fine while burning up with fever. That was Scarlett, stubborn to the core."I want to talk to her," I said, already calculating how quickly I could get to their place."She's resting now," Morton replied. "Finally convinced her to take something for the fever and she dozed off about twenty minutes ago.""Tell her to call me when she wakes up, please?""Of course. She actually asked me to call you earlier, then changed her mind. Sai
Chapter 178Mia's POVI took her hand, squeezing gently. "Mom sent chicken soup. The magical cure-all kind that she used to make when we were kids.""Your mom is a saint," Scarlett sighed, sinking back into her pillows. "Morton's been amazing, but he's clueless about the whole sick day thing. Keeps asking if I need a specialist or if we should go to the emergency room.""He's worried about you," I observed.Something soft flickered across her fever-flushed face. "Yeah. It's... nice."This was new territory for Scarlett, who had always fiercely maintained her independence."When did you start feeling sick?" I asked, changing the subject before she could retreat behind her usual sardonic defenses."Yesterday afternoon," she admitted. "Just a headache at first. I thought it was from staring at spreadsheets too long. Then around dinner time, I started feeling achy all over. By bedtime, Morton said I was burning up.""And you didn't call
Mia's POVA knock at the door interrupted our banter. Morton poked his head in, looking slightly apologetic."Dinner's almost ready," he announced. "Nothing fancy, but there's roast beef, potatoes, and some vegetables. Mia, I assumed you'd stay? There's plenty."Gas perked up at the mention of food, his tail wagging hopefully."Don't worry, buddy," Morton assured him. "I've got something for you too."By the time we finished eating, however, Scarlett was visibly flagging, the brief burst of energy from leaving her sickbed rapidly depleting."You should get back to bed," I said gently, noting the renewed flush in her cheeks. "Your fever's coming back."She nodded, too tired to argue. "I hate being sick. It's so boring.""It's your body telling you to slow down," Morton advised, already moving to help her up. "Even Scarlett Wallace-Morton needs rest occasionally.""Wallace-Morton," she repeated, leaning heavily against his arm. "That still
Mia's POVBefore I could process what was happening, Kyle's mouth was on mine, desperate and demanding, tasting of expensive scotch and poor decisions. For a split second, I froze, my brain struggling to catch up with this sudden violation. Gas's barking grew more frantic beside me, his protective instincts in full force as Kyle's hands gripped my shoulders.The initial shock wore off, replaced by a surge of white-hot anger that coursed through my veins. With strength I didn't know I possessed, I shoved hard against Kyle's chest, breaking free from his grip. He stumbled backward, momentarily off-balance, giving me just enough space to raise my hand and deliver a stinging slap across his face.The crack of palm against cheek echoed through the narrow alley, punctuated by Gas's continuing barks."How dare you," I hissed, my entire body trembling with rage. "How dare you grab me like that, touch me like that."Kyle stood frozen, his hand rising slowly to his reddening cheek."Mia—" he st
Mia's POVThe hot water helped wash away the physical sensation of Kyle's grasp, of his mouth forced against mine, though the memory remained stubbornly present.I reached for my tablet, thinking I might distract myself with some mindless scrolling or perhaps work on the children's center designs. And my phone chimed with an incoming video call. Scarlett's name and photo flashed on the screen.I accepted the call, adjusting the screen so the dim lighting wouldn't reveal too much of my current state."Hey, Scar," I greeted, forcing a lightness I didn't feel into my voice. "How are you feeling?"Scarlett's face appeared, still flushed with fever but looking marginally better than when I'd left her earlier. "Like I've been hit by a bus, then backed over for good measure," she replied with her characteristic bluntness. "But Morton's playing Florence Nightingale, so I can't complain too much.""You should be resting," I scolded gently. "Why are you calling so late?"Her image shifted as sh
Mia's POVI woke to gray skies and a steady drizzle against my bedroom window.My dreams had been a chaotic montage of faces—Kyle's desperation, Scarlett's feverish smile, Jeo's unexpected reappearance, and Nate... Nate with his kind eyes and careful distance, a puzzle I couldn't quite solve.Strange dreams.My phone chimed with a text message, and I reached for it reluctantly, half-expecting it to be Kyle with some pathetic apology. Instead, it was Scarlett:Fever broke this morning. Morton insisting I stay in bed anyway.I smiled despite myself, relieved that her condition was improving. I typed back:Dictator Morton sounds like exactly what you need right now. Rest. I'll check on you later.Setting the phone aside, I pushed myself up and swung my legs over the edge of the bed, taking a moment to find my balance.Gas immediately hopped down and stretched.As I picked at my breakfast, my thoughts returned to the video call with Scarlett and Jeo. The revelation that Jeo and Nate had b
Mia's POV"Nate," I said finally, my patience wearing thin, "if you know something that affects me and my children, you have a moral obligation to tell me. Not in riddles, not in vague warnings, but directly."The silence on the other end of the line stretched on for so long that I checked my phone screen to make sure we were still connected. We were."Nate? Are you still there?"A heavy sigh filtered through the connection. "I'm here.""Then talk to me," I pressed.Silence. And silence.I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself. Getting angry wouldn't help, and it certainly wouldn't get Nate to open up."Look," I said, softening my tone, "I need to be honest with you about something. There's a reason I'm pushing so hard for answers."Another pause. "What is it?"I closed my eyes, preparing for his reaction. "When I was in Paris, I went to see the Jardin House."The sharp intake of breath on the other end of the line told me everything I needed to know."You knew," he said flatly. N
Mia's POV"Nate," I said carefully, "what do you know that I don't?"I could hear Nate's breathing on the other end, slightly uneven, as if he was wrestling with himself."I—" he began, then stopped. "There are things I can't explain, Mia.""Nate, please," I said, my voice softer now. "I'm tired of riddles. I have two babies to protect. If you know something that puts us at risk, you need to tell me.""I..." There was a muffled sound on his end, like someone speaking in the background. "I have to go," he said suddenly, his tone shifting to urgency."Nate, wait—""I'll protect you, Mia," he promised. "please consider what I said about Paris.""I can't just—""I have to take this call," he interrupted.The line went dead before I could respond, leaving me staring at my phone in disbelief."What the hell?" I whispered to the empty room."I'm tired of this," I said aloud to Gas, who tilted his head as if considering my words. "Tired of everyone treating me like some fragile doll who can't
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