The Unwanted Wife and Her Secret Twins (Mia and Kyle) novel Chapter 68

Chapter 68: Blood Ties

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Chapter 68: Blood Ties

*Mia’s POV**

The sharp pain in my neck woke me. I’d fallen asleep at my desk again, surrounded by design sketches for the children’s center. The soft weight of a blanket slipped from my shoulders as I straightened, sending a familiar scent, that ridiculously expensive cologne Kyle always wore.

My heart stuttered. Had he been here?

“Don’t be stupid,” I muttered to myself, folding the blanket carefully. “Mrs. Chen probably found it somewhere.” But my hands lingered on the fabric, betraying my attempt at indifference. I hadn’t seen Kyle since our confrontation at Scarlett’s engagement party, and that was a good thing. It had to be.

Gasoline’s wet nose pressed against my hand, his warm brown eyes full of concern. “I’m okay, buddy.” I scratched behind his ears, drawing comfort from his solid presence. “Just tired.”

My phone buzzed with a message from Nate: “Surgery prep starts in two hours. Try to eat something before coming in.”

Mom’s final operation.

The hospital corridors felt different today. Mom’s room was filled with morning light, making her look more peaceful than ever.

“Hey, Mom.” I settled into my usual chair, taking her hand. Her skin felt warmer now, more alive. “Big day today. Nate says everything looks perfect, but…” I swallowed hard. “I really need you to fight, okay? I have so much to tell you. About the children’s center, about Gas – he’s going to love you, by the way. About… everything.”

“She’s going to wake up.” Nate’s voice from the doorway made me jump. He looked tired but confident in his surgical scrubs.” Her readings are the strongest they’ve been.”

“Promise?” The word slipped out before I could stop it.

He moved closer, checking Mom’s vitals with practiced efficiency, I don’t make promises I can’t keep, Mia. You know that.”

I did know.

“The nurse will be in soon to start prep,” he continued. “Why don’t you get some coffee? It’s going to be a long morning.”

I hesitated, not wanting to leave Mom’s side.

“Go.” He squeezed my shoulder gently. “I’ve got her.”

The hospital café was quiet this early. I stirred my coffee mechanically, watching cream swirl into familiar patterns, Á text from Scarlett lit up my phone: “Everything’s going to be fine. Call me the second she’s out of surgery. Love you!

“1

The click of heels on tile made me look up. My blood ran cold.

Taylor stood in the doorway, perfect as always in cream Chanel. Her red lips curved into that familiar smile that had haunted my

teenage years.

“Well, if it isn’t my favorite stepsister.” Her voice dripped honey–coated poison. “Shouldn’t you be with your mother? Oh wait, she’s about to have surgery, isn’t she? Such a shame…”

“What are you doing here?” I was proud of how steady my voice sounded.

She moved closer, her designer perfume overwhelming in the small space. “Can’t I check on my dear stepmother? After all, we’re family.”

“We’ve never been family.” I stood, needing the height advantage. What do you really want, Taylor?”

“Maybe I just wanted to see your face when it all falls apart.” She examined her perfect manicure. “Surgeries are so risky, aren’t they? Especially neural procedures. So many things can go wrong

Chapter 68: Blood Ties

+25 BONUS

Ice slid down my spine. “Are you threatening my mother?”

“Threatening?” She laughed, the sound like broken glass. “Of course not. I’m just… concerned. First your babies, now your mother… you really can’t hold onto anything, can you?”

My hand moved before I could think, the slap echoing in the quiet café. “If you go anywhere near my mother-”

“You’ll what?” Taylor’s perfectly manicured nails touched her reddening cheek, a small laugh escaping her throat. “Oh, Mia. Still the same pathetic little girl, aren’t you? Lashing out because you know I’m right.” Her eyes glittered with malicious triumph. “Face it – you’ve already lost everything that matters. Kyle never loved you. Your babies…” She paused deliberately, watching the color drain from my face. “And soon, very soon, you won’t even have-”

The words died on her lips. Something shifted in her expression rippled through her body. Her hand flew to her stomach, perfectly polished nails digging into the cream fabric of her designer the carefully crafted mask of cruelty cracking as pain visibly dress.

“Taylor?” Despite everything, concern crept into my voice. The way she stumbled backward, her usual grace deserting her something was terribly wrong.

“No,” she whispered, real fear replacing the malice in her eyes. Her legs seemed to give out as she grabbed for the nearest chair, missing it completely. “No, no, please…”

I couldn’t tell if it was her usual performance or if it was real.

Imoved without thinking, catching her arm before she could hit the floor. That’s when I saw it – dark red spreading across the pristine fabric of her dress, a crimson stain that seemed to grow with each passing second.

Her fingers dug into my arm with desperate strength. “The baby,” she gasped, tears streaking her perfect makeup. “Kyle’s baby… our baby…”

The words hit me like physical blows. Memories of my own loss flooded back – the cold marble stairs, the feeling of warmth between my legs, the knowledge that my own babies were slipping away. Now here was Taylor, claiming what I’d lost, what I’d wanted more than anything.

“You’re lying.” The words came out hollow, unconvincing even to my own ears. “It’s just another one of your games.”

“Games?” Taylor’s laugh was raw, hysterical. Her nails dug deeper into my arm as another wave of pain hit her, “You think I’d… ah!” She doubled over, more blood staining the Italian marble floor. “Call Kyle! Please… he needs to know about his son…”

“Son?” Something inside me cracked at the word. A son. The heir Kyle had always wanted.

“Seven weeks,” Taylor whimpered, her usual manipulative facade crumbling completely. “We’ve known for seven weeks. The nursery… we were going to announce it at the divorce hearing…” Her words dissolved into a sob of pain.

I felt numb, disconnected, like I was watching the scene from somewhere far away. Seven weeks. While I’d been working on the children’s center, trying to rebuild my life, they’d been planning a family. Planning a future.

“Please,” Taylor’s voice had gone thin, desperate. “I know you hate me, but please… help me save my baby…”

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