Kyle's POVThree weeks in Paris, and I was no closer to exonerating my father than when I'd arrived.If anything, I'd only uncovered more sins.The file on my desk contained photographs, financial records, Morton's call interrupted my thoughts."Morton," I answered, my voice rough from lack of sleep."Kyle," he replied. "There's been a development. Richard Williams is dead."I moved away from the window, alert. "How?""Officially? Suicide. He was found hanging in his cell early this morning.""And unofficially?"Morton's slight hesitation told me everything I needed to know. "The timing is... concerning. Especially given certain conversations he had recently.""With whom?" I demanded, though I already suspected the answer."Mia. He requested to meet with her several days ago."My hand tightened around the phone. "What did he want?""I'm not entirely sure," Morton admitted. "But according to Scarlett, it had something to do with Diana Porter.""Did he tell her anything specific?""If h
Kyle's POV"Carol," I whispered, the name unfamiliar yet devastating in its implications. "Her daughter's name was Carol?"Dubois nodded slowly, his weathered face impassive. "That's all I know. Diana was always very protective of her daughter's identity, even before the threats began. The girl wasn't at the lake house when Diana died. I assumed she was left with relatives or friends."I stared at the yellowed envelope in my hands, the name "Carol" written across it in elegant script."Did anyone else know about the child?" I asked."If they did, they never spoke of it officially." Dubois sipped his tea, his gaze fixed on some point beyond my shoulder. "Your father was... thorough in removing traces of Diana's personal life from the record. Medical files disappeared. Former colleagues suddenly couldn't recall certain details. It was as if parts of her existed only in memory."So if all these were true. My father had systematically erased a woman's existence and possibly orchestrated h
Mia's POVI couldn't sleep. My mind raced with fragments that refused to connect.I kept thinking about what my dad had told me before he died, that Nate was involved in this whole thing. But Nate wouldn't tell me anything.Nate's grandmother. The thought appeared suddenly, bright and clear amid the chaos in my head. Yiayia. The warm-hearted Greek woman at that small Mediterranean restaurant Nate had taken me to months ago.If anyone might know something about Nate's past, it would be his grandmother. She had looked at me with such knowing eyes that day, commenting that "growing babies need food" before I'd told her I was pregnant.I made the decision in an instant.Mom was at another of her mysterious "appointments" that made her eyes sparkle. No one would miss me for a few hours.Gas watched me accusingly as I prepared to leave."I won't be long," I promised him.The taxi ride to the small restaurant i
Mia's POVI stared at the photograph, my brain struggling to process what I was seeing. The woman in the picture looked exactly like Diana Porter. But the timeline didn't make sense. If Diana Porter had only given birth to a daughter, how could she be the mother of Nate and his brother?"Yiayia," I began hesitantly, "did Thea ever use another name? Perhaps for work or... before she married?"Yiayia tilted her head, considering the question. "No, always Thea. Short for Dorothea." She smiled fondly at the photograph. "My beautiful Dorothea."Not Diana, then.I thought about how to say this." Yiayia, did Thea ever mention having a sister?Yiayia's eyes narrowed slightly. I added, "You may not believe it, but I've seen someone who looks exactly like Thea. Someone from many years ago. "Yiayia's weathered hands stilled on the table. She studied my face intently, and her shoulders relaxed slightly.She reached out and stroked my cheek gently, her palm warm against my skin. "You have honest e
Mia's POVI couldn't see a thing. The blindfold was tight. My wrists burned from the restraints, the plastic cutting into my skin whenever I shifted position. A gag filled my mouth, the taste of fabric making me want to retch.I tried to focus on my breathing. In through the nose, out through the nose. Slow and steady.The twins were still. Too still.This scared me.Stay calm for them, I told myself. They can feel your fear.The car made another turn—right, I thought, though it was hard to be certain. I'd been trying to keep track: left out of the restaurant district, straight for what felt like ten minutes, then right onto what must have been a highway from the sudden increase in speed. We'd been driving for at least forty minutes now.Each minute took me further from the city. Further from anyone who might help me.No one had noticed when the man approached me outside Yiayia's restaurant. No one saw the gun pressed against my back, or my expression as I was forced into the black se
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
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
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
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