Mia's POV My world tilted on its axis as I stared at the medical report in my trembling hands. This couldn't be right. The dates, the details - everything was wrong. Three months? That was impossible. I'd only discovered my pregnancy two weeks ago. The black text seemed to swim before my eyes, each word a fresh blow to my racing heart. The study felt smaller somehow, the walls closing in as Kyle's presence loomed larger than life. The lamp on his desk cast shadows across his face, making his expression even more terrifying. I could hear my own shallow breathing in the thick silence. "Kyle," I whispered, my voice barely audible in the thick tension of his study. "This isn't... this can't be..." "Can't be what?" His voice cut through the air like steel, each word precise and deadly. "Can't be true? Can't be discovered?" He stood behind his desk, shoulders rigid, knuckles white where they gripped the polished wood. The veins in his hands stood out, betraying his barely contained r
Mia's POVTime lost all meaning as I waited in the darkened house. Shadows crept across the walls, each hour stretching into eternity. Kyle would have to come back eventually. We could go to John's clinic together. One simple examination would prove I was telling the truth. The babies were his. He will believe me.The grandfather clock in the hallway chimed midnight, its deep resonance oddly threatening in the empty house. Each stroke felt like a hammer to my already pounding head.My eyes grew heavy as exhaustion crept in. The emotional toll of the day weighed on me like lead, pulling me toward unconsciousness. The babies needed rest. Just a few minutes...The sharp click of heels on hardwood jolted me awake.The foyer light snapped on, momentarily blinding me. When my vision cleared, I saw her standing there, a vision in red, perfectly coiffed even at this hour. "Look what we have here. The perfect little wife, caught in her own web of lies." Taylor's voice dripped honey-coated pois
Mia's POVThe world spun as I lay at the bottom of the stairs, pain radiating through my body in merciless waves. Taylor's performance began with a single, perfectly timed tear."Kyle!" Taylor's voice cracked with carefully crafted desperation. "You're here!" Her hands trembled as she wrapped her arms around herself, a picture of vulnerability.Kyle's eyes darted between us, taking in the scene—me on the floor, Taylor's apparent distress. The muscle in his jaw ticked, a sure sign of his rising anger.Taylor's lower lip quivered. "I—I just wanted to talk to her." Her voice hitched perfectly. "After everything that's happened, I thought maybe... maybe we could fix things. We're family, after all." She pressed a manicured hand to her mouth, suppressing a sob. "But she was so angry, Kyle. ""No," I gasped, "She's lying—""I told her about us," Taylor continued. "About how we've been trying to resist our feelings, trying to do the right thing. I thought if she understood... if she knew how
Mia's POVIn the haze between consciousness and darkness, memories floated like scattered photographs, each one more painful than the last. The sedatives coursing through my veins turned my mind into a kaleidoscope of moments I'd tried so hard to forget."Mr. Branson will see you now."The first time I saw Kyle in his office, tall and imposing behind that mahogany desk. I'd straightened my simple black dress, trying to look professional despite my racing heart. He hadn't recognized me from high school, of course. To him, I was just another candidate for the secretary position."Your references are impressive, Miss Williams."His voice had been cold even then, clinical. I should have known. Should have seen the signs.The scene shifted, blurred, reformed."The board needs me married." Kyle's voice echoed through my drug-induced dreams. "Someone quiet. Someone who won't cause problems." The contract had sat between us on his desk, stark black text on white paper. A business arrangement,
Mia's POVThe hospital room is too quiet. Too white. Too empty.Just like me now.The morning light hurts my eyes. I keep my hand on my stomach. There's nothing there anymore. No movement. No life. Just emptiness.When the door opens, I know it's Kyle. I always know. Even now, my heart still responds to his presence. I hate that it does."You should be resting," he says. His footsteps are measured, controlled. Everything about Kyle is always controlled.I turn my head slowly. He looks perfect. Not a hair out of place. Like nothing has happened. Like our babies aren't gone."How's Taylor?" I ask. I can't help it. I need to know if he spent the night with her while I was losing our children.His jaw tightens. "She's fine. Some bruising."Of course she is. Taylor always lands on her feet. While I lose everything."The doctors say you need rest," he continues, checking his phone. Always checking his phone. "I've arranged for the best specialists—""I want a divorce."The words hang in the
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 POV"One last check of the discharge papers, Mrs. Branson, and you'll be all set to go home," Dr. Matthews said, her practiced smile not quite hiding the concern in her eyes. "Remember, the twins still need frequent monitoring. The home health nurse will visit daily for the first week, then we'll reassess."I nodded, scanning the stack of papers before me—medical instructions, follow-up appointments, warning signs to watch for, emergency contacts. So many details to remember, so many things that could go wrong."Are you sure they're ready?" I asked for what must have been the fifth time that morning. Though Alexander and Ethan had made remarkable progress in the six weeks since their birth, they still seemed so small, so fragile."They've met all our criteria for discharge—consistent weight gain, stable temperature, successful feeding, no apnea episodes for over a week. They're ready, Mia. And so are you."I glanced over at my sons, nestled in their identical car seats. Alexande
Mia's POVI sat in the rocking chair, holding Alexander against my chest. He was doing remarkably well as already gaining weight and breathing with minimal assistance. His tiny fingers had wrapped around my pinky with surprising strength, and I couldn't help the smile that spread across my face."Look at you, little fighter," I whispered, gently stroking his cheek with my finger. "So strong already."Nurse Maria approached with Ethan, carefully transferring him from his isolette to my other arm. Though still smaller than his brother, Ethan had made significant progress. The doctors had reduced his ventilator settings yesterday, a positive sign his lungs were developing well."There we go," Maria said softly. "Mama's got both her boys now."It's a magical feeling. Both my sons nestled against me, their synchronized breathing creating a rhythm that seemed to match my heartbeat. Alexander squirmed slightly, his mouth making little movements that the nurses said were early attempts at suc
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