The Unwanted Wife and Her Secret Twins (Mia and Kyle) novel Chapter 166

Mia's POV

"Are you okay?" Scarlett asked, noticing that I had fallen silent.

I blinked, pulling myself back from the spiral of thoughts threatening to drag me under. The conference room felt too small suddenly, the air too thick despite the building's perfect ventilation system.

"I'm fine," I lied, shifting in the plush executive chair that was still somehow uncomfortable against my aching back. "I just want to see Kyle."

Scarlett studied me with the intense scrutiny that only lifelong friends can get away with, her eyes narrowing slightly.

"Okay," she said finally. "But promise me one thing, alright?"

"What?"

"If things get out of hand, or if the press seems to have noticed your presence, you have to leave immediately. No arguments."

I nodded. "I promise." The last thing I wanted was to appear in tomorrow's tabloids, looking emotional and desperate as I confronted my ex-husband. It would only reinforce Taylor's narrative of me as the pathetic, gold-digging secretary clinging to her meal ticket.

"Let's wait," Scarlett decided, settling into the chair beside me.

I shifted in my seat again, trying to find a position that didn't aggravate the dull ache in my lower back. It was a futile effort. Dr. Matthews' words echoed in my mind: modified bed rest, minimal stress, nothing that raises your blood pressure. I was failing spectacularly on all counts.

From the conference room, I had a partial view of the hallway through the glass wall. Executive assistants hurried past, their faces tense. A group of suited men—legal team, I guessed—marched by with expressions that could only be described as grim. The energy in the building was palpable, charged with crisis.

Seems like they all working on the media situation.

The minutes dragged by. Ten minutes. Fifteen.

My hand moved to my lower back, trying to massage away the persistent ache that was gradually intensifying. I should have listened to my mother, stayed on the couch with Gas guarding my feet. This was pointless.

"This was a mistake," I muttered, watching another group of strangers pass the conference room. "He's probably not even here anymore."

Just as the words left my lips, I spotted him.

Kyle.

Walking down the hallway with purposeful strides, his expression guarded but determined. The familiar sight of him—tall, broad-shouldered, radiating that quiet intensity that had always drawn me to him—made my heart constrict painfully.

But he wasn't alone.

Beside him walked a woman I'd never seen before. Tall, slender, with a sheet of glossy dark hair that fell perfectly straight to the middle of her back. She wore a tailored midnight blue dress that highlighted every advantage of her figure, and moved with the easy confidence of someone who knew exactly how good she looked. They walked in perfect sync, matched in height with her towering heels, their dark heads bent slightly toward each other as they spoke.

She laughed at something Kyle said.

Hot, irrational jealousy surged through me.

Who was she? The woman from the phone call yesterday? The one who'd made Kyle step out of the room, whose voice had made his expression change?

I watched as they passed the conference room without glancing inside, continuing down the hallway, their conversation too quiet for me to hear.

The twins kicked sharply, responding to my sudden spike in adrenaline. I forced myself to take a deep breath, embarrassed by my reaction. This was ridiculous. Kyle and I were divorced. He was free to see whoever he wanted, to talk closely with beautiful dark-haired women in expensive dresses. It wasn't any of my business.

"You look like you've seen a ghost," Scarlett said, studying my face. "What's wrong?"

I realized I'd gone rigid in my chair, my hand frozen where it had been rubbing my stomach.

"Nothing," I lied. "Just another contraction." I forced myself to relax, to breathe. "Braxton Hicks."

Scarlett frowned. "Are you sure? Should we call Dr. Matthews?"

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