Chapter 140 Home
Mia’s POV
I sleep for several hours on the flight, waking only when the lunch service began.
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“Feeling okay?” Scarlett asked, returning from a brief visit to the font of the cabin where Thomas was working on his laptop.
“Better than expected,” I admitted. “Thank you and your husband for the first–class cabin.”
“That’s what he should do, otherwise I won’t marry him,” Scarletsald, pointing at her ring. I nodded, “Very convincing.”
“Not much longer,” she assured me, checking her watch. “About two hours until we land.”
As if on cue, my phone buzzed with an incoming email. The airplane’s Wi–Fi allowing me to stay connected despite being somewhere over the Atlantic. It was from my lawyer:
Mia,
Update on the situation with Taylor Matthews. She has been released on bail but with significant restrictions surrender of passport, ankle monitor, no contact orders for you and your mother. Her attorney is positioning this as a misunderstanding, claiming she was an unwitting teenager manipulated by her mother and your father.
Your mother’s legal team has solid evidence contradicting this narrative. We should discuss strategy upon your return. Are you available Friday afternoon?
Best regards, Robert
So Taylor was out. Despite the restrictions, knowing she was free even temporarily–felt threatening in a way I couldn’t quite
articulate.
First of all, why was Taylor able to pay a huge bail again. She should have spent enough money on the last bail. Where did the money come from? My father obviously didn’t have the money, otherwise he would have chosen to bail himself out first. Was it Kyle? Was he still helping Taylor? The thought of this possibility made me feel furious. If that was really the case, why was he acting like “I want to be a good father” in front of me?
I forwarded the email to my mother with a brief note: Just saw this. Available Friday afternoon. Will coordinate specifics when we land.
My discomfort must have shown on my face, because Scarlett immediately asked, “What’s wrong? Are the twins okay?”
“They’re fine,” I assured her. “Taylor’s been released on bail.”
Her expression darkened. “What? How the hell did this bitch manage to do that?”
“I don’t know. She has restrictions,” I said, showing her the email. “Ankle monitor, no contact orders. She can’t leave the
country.”
Scarlett frowned. “Does she have any connections in the judicial system? Or has the witch met a new billionaire? Damn it! What’s going on in the world? I have to tell Morton! Fuck!”
“It’s okay, Scar.” I said. “The evidence sounds solid. This is just procedural.”
“I suppose.” She didn’t look convinced. “I will arrange for extra security. This bitch had better stay away from us, if she knows what’s good for her!”
“Okay, officer. Just relax.” I squeezed her hand.
The good news is that while I was wondering if I should go to Nate’s house to pick up Gas in the evening, Nate sent a message. He said he was sorry that he couldn’t pick me up today. He had a medical conference in Los Angeles. So he had already returned Gas to my house in advance.
In fact, I wasn’t prepared for how to face Nate. Knowing his secret with Carol made me feel guilty. I haven’t figured out how to
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Chapter 140 Horpás
deal with it yet.
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The remainder of the flight passed without incident, and soon we were descending toward New York, the familiar define appearing through breaks in the clouds. Despite my apprehension about what awaited on, wing fe day bros we of homecoming I hadn’t expected.
Landing at JFK felt like stepping back into reality after the dreamne quality of Paris.
“Morton sent a car,” Thomas informed us as we prepared to exit the terminal. “It’s waiting at the curb.”
Scarlett smiled. “Efficiency is his love language.”
The black SUV was indeed waiting, the driver already loading our luggage as we approached. The familiar skyline welcomed us as we drove toward Manhattan, the late afternoon sun glinting off glass and steel.
“Home sweet home,” Scarlett sighed, watching the city pass by outside her window. “Much as I love Parts, New York has its own magic.”
“It does,” I agreed, feeling home as we crossed the bridge into Manhattan.
The driver dropped Scarlett at her apartment first, with promises to meet for lunch tomorrow to “decompress. Thomas insisted on accompanying me to my building, overriding my protests that I would be fine on my own
“Consider it a promise to Scarlett if nothing else.” He said as the driver navigated through midtown traffic.
and strategize.”
I relented, too tired from the journey to argue further. When we finally reached my building, the sight of the familiar entrance brought unexpected tears to my eyes. Pregnancy hormones, I told myself firmly, blinking them away before Thomas could
notice.
The doorman greeted me warmly. “Welcome back, Ms. Williams. Your mother is upstairs waiting. And someone else who’s been very anxious for your return.”
Gas. The thought of seeing my loyal companion after nearly two weeks apart brought fresh emotion.
“Thank you for everything, Thomas,” I said as we reached my door
“My pleasure,” he replied simply. “Call if you need anything. Day or night.” He didn’t give me more time to thank him and left.
As I unlocked my door, I heard the familiar click of nails on hardwood, followed by an excited whine. Gas appeared in the hallway, practically vibrating with joy at the sight of me.
“There’s my boy,” I crouched as best I could with my pregnancy, receiving his enthusiastic greeting with laughter. His whole body wiggled as he pressed against me, sniffing me thoroughly as if cataloging all the new scents I’d acquired in Paris. Gas seems to have grown a little too, and he smells like popcorn. My boy.
“He barely slept last night,” my mother said, appearing from the kitchen with a warm smile. “As if he knew you were coming home today.”
“Mom,” I straightened with some effort, moving to embrace her. “It’s so good to see you”
She hugged me tightly, then held me at arm’s length to examine me critically. “You look good, my baby.”
I spent the next hour recounting my Paris adventures. Mom listened attentively, asking occasional questions but mostly allowing me to talk without interruption.
When I finally wound down, she said, “I’m so proud of you, Mia. Take this opportunity.”
“Thanks, Mom.” I leaned against her shoulder, feeling like a little girl again. “How are things here? With the case?”
“Friday we meet with the DA to discuss next steps,” Mom explained. “They want your statement about Taylor’s patterns of behavior over the years. It helps establish character.”
“I’ll tell them everything,” I promised.
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“Good.” Mom squeezed my hand. The conversation shifted to lighter topics as we shared the dinner, Gas maintaining bis position pressed against my legs as if afraid I might disappear again. My mother had prepared all my favorites.
“It was nearly midnight when I finally headed to bed, exhaustion catching up to me despite my nap on the plane. My bedroom looked exactly as I’d left it, though Mom had added fresh flowers on the nightstand and turned down the covers invitingly
I changed into comfortable pajamas, completed my abbreviated nighttime routine, and sank gratefully into my own bed. Gas hopped up beside me without waiting for invitation, circling three times before settling with his head on my pillow, eyes fixed on my face as if to ensure I wouldn’t vanish while he slept.
“I missed you too, buddy,” I murmured, scratching behind his ears. “I’m home now. No more trips until after the twins arrive.”
He sighed contentedly, his warm weight against my side more comforting than any luxury hotel amenity.
With that certainty warming me, I closed my eyes and let sleep come