The Real Mia Smith Story Novels & Stories

Mia “Are you the parent or legal guardian of Grayson and Alexander Fitch?” The cold voice on the other end of the phone made Mia's heart drop. “I'm their social worker, Mia Amesworth,” she replied, slowly stopping as she walked through the outdoor parking lot of the grocery store. “Are they okay?” “The boys broke into Stone Mountain Ranch, ma'am.” The voice was authoritative and uncompromising. “Grayson and Alexander did what?” Mia came to an immediate and abrupt halt. It was a good thing no one else was leaving the building yet, or she probably would have been hit by a car since she was standing in the middle of the road.

Neema said to me with a conspiratorial grin. I shook my head amused and followed her into the palace. “What's your name little one?” Neema asked. I was silent for a bit. I obviously couldn't tell her I was Arielle the fabled warrior princess of Gaham. She wouldn't believe me and would probably laugh. “I'm Marissa,” I said after a split second. Prefering to give her the alias I was originally supposed to use. “Fancy name is it. Your parents think they're lords or sumtin'. Giving a scrappy girl like you a name like that.

I said. “Me and your friends from high school. I mourned you. I buried your favorite things in your backyard so we could have some sort of funeral. Goddess, I was so stupid.” I let out. Williams looked shocked. “You thought I was dead?” He repeated. “Mia, skies, yes, I was in a bad accident. It put me in a coma and my doctors thought I wasn't going to wake up. I was declared brain-dead. That's where the rumors were from.”

I said, stacking the documents, but secretly watching her reaction. Her lips trembled slightly, and her eyes turned cold. She chuckled lowly. “So you do know. You treated her badly, Mia.” “That’s in the past,” I replied, and she gritted her teeth. Of course I knew. Mia was ruthless, not only did she sabotage parties, she slept with multiple socialite men and even bragged about it. She ruined contracts and made wealthy families go bankrupt with a snap of her fingers. Who wouldn’t want her dead? Even I couldn’t stand that woman… and she did worse to her own child. It was a miracle the girl still loved her and still craved her attention. Really, anyone would want to kill Mia. That’s why I had t

Seaton froze for a second, almost losing the thread, but quickly caught on. “No, Gill lives in another building. Besides, someone as busy as Gill barely ever stays at home.” I took out my phone and pulled up the old news about Mia being exposed for sleeping her way up with a sponsor. Combined with what I’d just seen, the more I thought about it, the more convinced I was that I’d uncovered the truth. I couldn’t help but sneer. “No wonder she waltzed into the entertainment industry, signed with a top agent, and even got a special medical license!”

“I know. I am so damn stupid—” “Don’t you dare.” Her hand came down on my knee. “Don’t you dare say that. Not once. That bastard stood up on that stage and shattered five years of your life and then had the audacity to call you and explain why you deserved it. There is nothing stupid about going out and taking something back for yourself after that. Nothing. You hear me?” I lowered my hands and looked at her. “Although… I genuinely do not know how to feel about the hooker part and the slap. That is a lot, Mia.” She paused. “But hey—if anyone on this earth deserves that thrill right now, it is you. I stand by that completely.”

"You should look into what happened to Rosabella in prison." "What happened?" "That's where this divorce really started." Mia took her phone back and turned to leave. "Wait!" I stopped her. "What exactly happened to her in prison?" Mia paused and looked back at me. "Broken bones, a ruptured spleen, thirteen knife scars," Mia’s voice was cold. "And PTSD, malnutrition, chronic insomnia." Every word was a bullet to my heart. "How… how is that possible? I paid people off…" "Paid them off?" Mia sneered. "Who did you pay? The Rossi family?"

… One month later, the signing ceremony between Celestial Cybersecurity and the Sanchez family was held at the most luxurious hotel in Buenos Aires. Mia, as Chief Strategy Officer, stood alongside Shawn amidst the flashing cameras, composed and poised. “Ms. Sanders, rumors say you were once Don Yorick’s wife. How does it feel to defeat your former husband?” A reporter asked sharply. Mia glanced at the camera. She put on a faint, flawless smile. “The past is behind me. I am now Don Gray’s Chief Strategy Officer. That’s all.” Thunderous applause erupted. No one noticed the man in the tattered trench coat, scruffy and unshaven, watching from a distance through the gaps in the chain-link fence

"The Bakers are putting on quite a show with this livestream. They must be hoping for donations, right? "Come on, dear viewers. Don't just watch for free." Mia's face turned bright red. She screeched at me. "Shut up! You're the crazy woman who killed our father, and now you have the nerve to show up at his funeral and humiliate us?!" I glanced at their follower count and let out a cold laugh. "500 thousand people are watching. You might want to be careful what you say. You could be held legally responsible. "You're saying I killed him? That I ran off with money? Where's your proof?

“Talk to us.” Mia’s voice came through, tight and wavering, almost as if she was holding back a storm of panic. She recounted everything that had happened: the breakfast, the mansion, the maids, the contract. She spoke quickly, her words tumbling out in a mix of fear and urgency, as if saying them slowly would give her time to reconsider and unravel everything. Jessa and her team listened silently. Every word, every detail, was stored away, analyzed. What Mia didn’t say, what she deliberately left out was the part about the reward. That was strategic. That detail, if known, could complicate things, make her hesitant. It was better this way; Jessa could handle the rest.