The Unwanted Wife and Her Secret Twins (Mia and Kyle) novel Chapter 184

Mia's POV

"Nate," I said carefully, "what do you know that I don't?"

I could hear Nate's breathing on the other end, slightly uneven, as if he was wrestling with himself.

"I—" he began, then stopped. "There are things I can't explain, Mia."

"Nate, please," I said, my voice softer now. "I'm tired of riddles. I have two babies to protect. If you know something that puts us at risk, you need to tell me."

"I..." There was a muffled sound on his end, like someone speaking in the background. "I have to go," he said suddenly, his tone shifting to urgency.

"Nate, wait—"

"I'll protect you, Mia," he promised. "please consider what I said about Paris."

"I can't just—"

"I have to take this call," he interrupted.

The line went dead before I could respond, leaving me staring at my phone in disbelief.

"What the hell?" I whispered to the empty room.

"I'm tired of this," I said aloud to Gas, who tilted his head as if considering my words. "Tired of everyone treating me like some fragile doll who can't handle the truth. Tired of cryptic warnings and half-revelations."

Gas whined softly in response, his dark eyes full of canine sympathy.

I'd resolved to do some investigating of my own. If Nate wouldn't give me straight answers.

I think the universe might want to make my life a little more complicated, so when I opened my laptop, a news alert popped up on my screen. The headline made my blood run cold:

BREAKING: New Evidence Suggests Alexander Branson Implicated in Death of Former Fiancée

The article beneath it was brief but explosive:

I pulled my laptop closer, filled with renewed determination. A quick search for Diane Porter yielded a scattered handful of results, most from the society pages of years gone by. I clicked on an archived article from 2005:

Alexander Branson and Diane Porter made a striking couple at last night's Metropolitan Opera gala, with Porter stunning in vintage Dior and Branson debonair in traditional black tie. The pair, who announced their engagement last month, are planning a spring wedding, according to sources close to the couple.

The article was accompanied by a photo of Alexander Branson—tall, distinguished, with the same gray eyes as Kyle—standing beside a slender woman with dark hair swept up in an elegant style. Her face was tilted slightly away from the camera, but I could see enough to note her delicate features and the brilliant diamond on her left hand.

I searched for more information about her, clicking through several articles until I found a more detailed piece from a business magazine:

Diane Porter, adopted daughter of industrialist Howard Porter, brings her own business acumen to her relationship with Branson. A Stanford graduate with an MBA from Wharton, Porter has been instrumental in expanding her family's textile empire into emerging markets across Southeast Asia...

Adopted daughter. The words jumped out at me. I read on, learning that Diane had been adopted by the Porter family as a young child, that she'd built a reputation as a savvy businesswoman in her own right, that she and Alexander had been introduced at a charity function and had what society columnists called a "whirlwind romance."

And then, barely six months after their engagement was announced, she was dead. An accidental drowning at her family's lake house in the Adirondacks.

Except now, nearly two decades later, evidence suggested it wasn't an accident at all.

My phone rang again. Unknown number.