The Unwanted Wife and Her Secret Twins (Mia and Kyle) novel Chapter 187

Mia's POV

As I filled the kettle for morning tea, my phone rang—an unknown number with a local area code. Normally, I'd let such calls go to voicemail, wary of reporters still trying to get comments about the Branson scandal. But something—intuition perhaps—prompted me to answer.

"Hello?"

There was silence on the other end, followed by a crackle of static that suggested an institutional phone system.

"Hello?" I repeated, irritation creeping into my voice. "Who is this?"

"Mia."

The voice sent ice through my veins, familiar despite the years.

"Father."

The word felt foreign on my tongue, a relic from a past I'd tried to put behind me. Richard Williams.

"You answered," he said, sounding genuinely surprised. "I wasn't sure you would."

"I didn't recognize the number," I replied, my tone deliberately cool. "What do you want?"

"Is that any way to greet your father?" The familiar note of manipulation had already crept into his voice, the subtle reminder that I owed him respect regardless of his actions.

"You forfeited the right to my courtesy when you tried to kill my mother," I said flatly. "I'll ask again—what do you want?"

A heavy sigh filtered through the connection. "I need to see you, Mia."

"Why would I agree to that?"

"Because I have information," he said, his voice dropping to a near whisper. "About Diane Porter. About what really happened."

I froze, the kettle forgotten in my hand. "What are you talking about?"

"Not over the phone," he insisted. "They monitor these calls. I need to tell you in person."

"Tell me what, exactly?"

"The truth about Porter's death and all the things happened to you. "Things aren't what they seem, Mia. None of it is."

I set the kettle down with more force than necessary, anger rising in my chest. "You expect me to drive all the way to a prison, in my condition, because you're dangling cryptic information in front of me? Information that's probably lies anyway?"

"It's not lies," he snapped, then seemed to catch himself, softening his tone. "Mia, please. I wouldn't ask if it weren't important. If it didn't concern you directly."

"Me?" I scoffed. "How exactly does Diane Porter's death from almost twenty years ago concern me directly?"

He was silent for a long moment. "Because you're in danger," he said finally. "You and those babies."

"Is that a threat?"

"No!" The word exploded from him with such force that I had to hold the phone away from my ear. "It's a warning. I'm trying to protect you, dammit."

"You've never protected me," I said. "Not when I needed it."

"I know." The admission seemed to cost him something. "I've been a terrible father. But this isn't about me, or about making amends. It's about keeping you safe from people who would do you harm."

"What people? Taylor? She's busy crafting her victim narrative for the media. She's not exactly lurking outside my building with a weapon."

"It's not just Taylor," he insisted. "It's bigger than her. It's—" He broke off abruptly. "I can't say more on this line. Please, Mia. Come see me. I can have my attorney arrange a private visit. Today, if possible."

I laughed incredulously. "Today? Are you serious?"

"Deadly serious." The choice of words seemed deliberate. "Time is running out."

"For you, maybe," I retorted. "Your trial's coming up."

Verify captcha to read the contentVerify