The Billionaire Regretted Losing His Invisible Wife novel Chapter 163

Chapter 185 Winter Coming

Mia’s POV

+20 Bonus

December arrived with its first show, transforming New York into a landscape of pristine white. I stood at the window, my fingers tracing idle patterns on the frosted glass as I observed the silent descent of snowflakes. My reflection stared back at me, a woman has a belly that had expanded to proportions I once would have deemed impossible.

The cold had settled into the city with unusual vigor this year, mirroring the chill that had descended upon the Branson name. Each day brought fresh allegations against Alexander Branson, each more damning than the last. The media, like vultures circling a wounded animal, released evidence piece by piece, ensuring the scandal remained perpetually fresh in the public consciousness.

“Murder,” they called it now. Alexander Branson, murderer of Diane Porter-a truth accepted so readily by a public hungry for the downfall of the wealthy and powerful.

I sighed, my breath creating a momentary fog upon the window.

Diane Porter had been revealed as a distant relative of Taylor’s mother’s family. How convenient for Taylor. The media embraced her narrative with alarming enthusiasm. The public’s memory was short indeed.

I even doubt that she will be found not guilty, even though she almost ran me over with her car three months ago.

I had not heard from Kyle since that brief phone call two weeks ago. Despite I hated his unwanted attentions, I could not rejoice

in his current predicament. Something about the precision of the scandal’s unfolding struck me as it seemed like a deliberate

campaign.

For a moment, I considered contacting Catherine to inquire about Alexander and Diane Porter. But I dismissed the notion almost instantly. What right had I to probe into such painful matters? What purpose would it serve to ask Katherine whether her husband had indeed been a murderer? It was not my burden to carry, nor my mystery to solve.

The sound of movement in the hallway drew my attention. My mother appeared, wrapped in a coat and scarf, clearly preparing to brave the winter weather once more.

“You’re going out again?” I inquired, unable to keep a hint of curiosity from my voice.

She paused, adjusting her gloves with meticulous attention. “Just for a short while. I have an appointment.”

“Another appointment,” I observed, noting the careful application of her makeup, the subtle flush upon her cheeks that owed nothing to cosmetics. “You seem to have many of those lately.”

Mother offered me a smile that held secrets. “The case remains complicated, darling. There are many details to attend to.”

“Of course,” I replied, playing along with her pretense, though I had begun to suspect that her frequent absences had little to do with legal matters. “Will you be long?”

“Not terribly,” she promised, checking her appearance in the hall mirror. “There’s soup warming on the stove if you grow hungry. You must eat, Mia. Those boys need nourishment.”

I nodded my acquiescence, though food held little appeal these days. My appetite fluctuated wildly, sometimes ravenous, other times entirely absent.

“I shall attempt to eat,” I assured her, settling onto the sofa with less grace than I would have preferred. “Do not concern yourself.”

She regarded me with motherly concern for a moment longer before departing, the door closing softly behind her.

Gas emerged from his nap in my bedroom, stretching languorously before padding over to rest his head upon my knee.” Thank you, Gas. For being a single dog.” I told him.

The snow continued its silent descent outside, accumulating on windowsills and transforming the city’s harsh lines into

16

something softer. It fell regardless of human dramas or corporate scandals.

+20 Bonus

VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABELVerify