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Chapter 359 Premonitions
Mia’s POV
Sophie Field settled back into her chair with the fluid grace of someone who had never encountered an uncomfortable piece of furniture in her life. Her eyes moved over me with the methodical precision of an art appraiser examining a newly discovered canvas, taking inventory of details I wasn’t even aware I possessed.
“Your skin,” she said suddenly, tilting her head like a curious bird, “has this luminous quality. Like moonlight through frost–covered glass. The photographs Kyle showed me were lovely, but they completely failed to capture the way light seems to gather around
your cheekbones.”
I touched my face self–consciously, feeling the warmth of what was probably a blush spreading across the very cheekbones she’d just complimented. “I look terrible,” I said honestly. “I’ve been wearing the same clothes since yesterday, I slept in a hospital chair, and I haven’t seen a mirror in-
“Nonsense!” Sophie waved one perfectly manicured hand as if physically brushing away my objections. “You have that natural beauty that improves with exhaustion. Very French, very enviable. Most people look like wilted lettuce when they’re tired, but you? You look like a Renaissance painting titled ‘Madonna with Hospital Coffee Stains.‘
Alexander giggled from his hospital bed, the sound bright and musical in the sterile room. “Mama doesn’t look like lettuce,” he announced with the authority of someone who had extensive experience with both his mother and vegetables. “She looks like Mama.”
“Exactly my point, mon petit,” Sophie said, turning to Alexander with a smile that could have powered the entire pediatric ward. “Your mama looks like herself, which is the most beautiful thing anyone can look like.”
Ethan looked up from his first–edition books, his dark eyes moving between Sophie and me with the careful assessment he applied to anything that seemed too good to be true. “Why do you talk funny?” he asked, his tone curious rather than critical.
“Funny?” Sophie pressed her hand to her chest with mock outrage. “I speak three languages fluently, four if you count the dialect of luxury shopping, and you think I talk funny?”
“Not bad funny,” Ethan clarified quickly, his natural politeness overriding his curiosity. “Just… different. Like the people in movies about Paris.”
“Ah, but I am from Paris! Well, Geneva originally, but I went to university in Paris, which is where I learned to speak English with this delightful accent that makes everything I say sound either very romantic or slightly dangerous.”
Madison had been quietly testing her new watercolors on a piece of hospital napkin, creating small
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blooms of color that spread like tiny flowers across the white paper. She looked up from her makeshift canvas with shy interest. “Are you really French?”
“French enough,” Sophie replied with a conspiratorial wink. “Though technically I’m Swiss, which means I’m very good with money and I make excellent chocolate. Two skills that have served me well
in life.”
I watched this exchange with a mixture of gratitude and growing unease. The children were clearly enchanted by Sophie–Alexander had abandoned his drone manual to listen to her stories, Ethan had actually closed his book, and Madison was painting what appeared to be the Eiffel Tower on her napkin.
“Sophie,” I said, “I want to thank you. For what you did. For helping Kyle put Taylor behind bars, for making sure she can’t hurt anyone else. I know it must have been difficult, having your identity stolen, your money used to-”
“Oh, ma chère,” Sophie interrupted, her laugh like silver bells in winter air, “difficult is trying to find good help for a château in Provence. Having my identity stolen by a psychotic step–sister with delusions of grandeur? That was just Tuesday.”
She leaned forward slightly, her eyes sparkling with what looked like genuine amusement. “Besides, I rather enjoyed the revenge aspect.”
“Still,” I continued, “I’m grateful. But I think… ”
Her voice remained light, musical, but there was steel beneath the silk. “Mia, with all due respect, you have no idea what you and your children have been living through. Those who saw Kyle’s love for you as a weakness to exploit.”
Alexander had been listening to this conversation with growing confusion, his small face scrunched up. “Why were bad people watching us?” he asked, his voice smaller than usual.
Sophie’s demeanor shifted instantly, the steel disappearing as she turned to Alexander with gentle reassurance. “Because sometimes, mon petit, when someone loves you very much, other people get jealous. They want to take that love away, so they try to cause trouble.”
“But we’re safe now?” Madison asked quietly, her paintbrush suspended over her makeshift palette.
“You are completely, totally, absolutely safe,” Sophie declared with the conviction of someone announcing a scientific fact. “The bad people are in jail, where they will stay for a very, very long time. And there are good people–like your papa Kyle–who will make sure nothing like this ever happens again.”
Ethan’s attention sharpened at the word ‘papa,‘ his eyebrows drawing together in thought. “You know about Kyle being our dad?”
Chapter 359 Premonitions
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“I know everything about Kyle,” Sophie said, then seemed to realize how that sounded and laughed. “Not everything everything–that would be creepy. But I know about his business, his… situation, and how much he loves all of you.”
She turned back to me, and I could see the calculation behind her playful exterior. “Which brings me to why I’m really here. I simply had to see for myself the woman who inspired such extraordinary devotion.”
The way she said it made me feel like an exhibit in a museum, something rare and valuable that people paid admission to observe. I shifted uncomfortably in my chair, suddenly hyperaware of my rumpled clothes and unwashed hair.
“I’ve seen photographs, of course,” Sophie continued, her gaze moving over my face with renewed intensity. “Kyle showed me dozens. Pictures from your marriage, pictures of you with the children, pictures he took when you weren’t looking and thought he was being subtle about it.”
“He showed you pictures?”
Sophie’s smile took on a mischievous quality. “It was rather sweet, actually. Here’s this man who could buy and sell small countries, who has more power than most heads of state, and he turns into a lovesick teenager whenever he talks about his family.”
Alexander perked up from his hospital bed. ” dad really talks about us?”
“Constantly,” Sophie confirmed. “Your papa is very proud of you. But enough about that,” Sophie said, apparently noticing my emotional state and smoothly changing the subject. “I want to know about you, Mia. Your hair, for instance—this color is not from a bottle, is it? This deep auburn with gold threads through it? Very rare, very beautiful.”
Her scrutiny was becoming overwhelming. “Sophie, I really don’t think—”
“And your eyes!” Sophie continued as if I hadn’t spoken. “Green like sea glass, but with these little flecks of gold around the pupils. Kyle mentioned them constantly. ‘Her eyes,‘ he would say, ‘they change color depending on her mood. Green when she’s happy, darker when she’s worried.‘”
She leaned closer, studying my face with scientific precision. “Right now they’re a lovely sage green with hints of worry–darkness around the edges. Very telling.”
Ethan had been watching this exchange with growing fascination. “Are you like a detective?” he asked Sophie.
“More like a very curious person with too much time and money,” Sophie replied. “I find people fascinating, especially people who inspire such strong emotions in others.”
She turned back to me, her expression growing more serious despite her light tone. “I must admit, I was intensely curious about what you looked like in person. The woman who made Kyle Branson–a
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man famous for his emotional detachment fall so completely head over heels that he restructured his entire life around protecting you.”
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