The Unwanted Wife and Her Secret Twins (Mia and Kyle) novel Chapter 216

Mia's POV

The alarm chimed precisely at 5:00 AM, and I silenced it with a practiced tap before it could complete its first ring. My morning ritual began as it always did—fifteen minutes of meditation, thirty minutes on the Peloton, a quick shower, and exactly twenty-three minutes to dress, apply my minimal makeup, and arrange my hair into a sleek chignon.

By 6:15 AM, I stood in my kitchen, scrolling through email notifications on my tablet while the espresso machine hummed. My calendar for the day glowed on the screen: 8:00 AM presentation to the board of Leblanc & Williams Architects (our Paris-based partnership had officially expanded to New York two years ago), 10:30 AM site visit to the Chelsea wellness center, 1:00 PM lunch with the editor of Architectural Digest (they wanted to feature our latest sustainable luxury project), 3:00 PM video conference with our Tokyo clients, and then I saw—

"Alexander James Williams! Ethan Edward Williams! Get in here right now!"

My carefully ordered morning shattered, hands on my hips, surveying the disaster before me. Gas, our loyal golden retriever who had been with me through everything, sat in the bathtub looking utterly dejected. A patch of fur on his back was singed black, the acrid smell of burnt hair still lingering in the air.

Two identical faces peered around the corner, eyes wide with that mixture of innocence and guilt only four-year-olds can master.

"We were just trying to make him sparkly, Mama," Alexander offered, always the first to speak. With his dark hair and curious eyes, he was my little instigator. The planner. The one who came up with the ideas that Ethan, the more cautious but ultimately willing accomplice, would help execute.

"With my hair straightener?" I asked, arching an eyebrow. "The one I specifically told you never to touch?"

Ethan, slightly smaller than his brother but with the same determined chin, stepped forward. "Gas wanted to look fancy for his date with Bella." Bella was Nate's female border collie. Nate had six dogs now and boys loves all of them. According to the twins, our dogs had a very complicated love life that rivaled any soap opera.

I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from smiling. These two would be the death of me.

"Gas doesn't need to be 'sparkly' for Bella," I said firmly. "And electrical appliances are absolutely off-limits. We've talked about this."

"But—" Alexander began.

"No buts," I cut him off, checking my watch. "Now I have to cancel my morning and take Gas to the vet."

The twins exchanged a glance. My phone buzzed, and I glanced at the screen to see a text from my assistant Camille:

Leblanc arriving early. ETA 10:00. Meeting room prepared.

Perfect. Just perfect.

I took a deep breath, the techniques from my meditation app kicking in automatically. "New plan. You two, get dressed for preschool. Shoes, jackets, backpacks by the door in ten minutes. I'm calling Nate."

The twins scurried off, suddenly eager to cooperate now that they knew Nate was involved. I dialed his number, and he answered on the second ring.

"Let me guess," his warm voice came through the speaker. "The dynamic duo has struck again?"

"Gas has been subjected to a makeover," I explained, running a soothing hand over the dog's head. "Can you possibly take him to the vet while I handle this meeting? The boys can miss preschool today—they'd love a day with the dogs."

"Of course," Nate replied without hesitation. "I'll be there in twenty."

Not telling. That's why it's called a surprise. See you at 7. Don't be late.

I could practically hear his teasing tone.

"Mama! We're ready!" Ethan called from the living room.

I gave myself a final once-over in the mirror. At twenty-nine, I looked different than I had four years ago. More confident. The woman who stared back at me had learned to run board meetings and charm clients while juggling twin toddlers and international conference calls. My hair was shorter now, a practical bob that required minimal maintenance. The shadows under my eyes were expertly concealed with the high-end makeup Scarlett insisted I use.

When I entered the living room, I found the twins sitting perfectly on the couch, backpacks ready, angelic expressions firmly in place. Too angelic.

"What else did you do?" I asked suspiciously.

"Nothing!" they chorused, the synchronized denial making me even more suspicious.

Before I could investigate further, the doorbell rang.

Gas, despite his earlier trauma, bounded to the door, tail wagging.

I know, the favorite man of twins was at the door.