Chapter 58 No More Games
Mia’s POV
My phone buzzed again with another message from the unknown number, making me sigh as I opened it.
“You like to shuttle between different men, sister,” Taylor’s text read, dripping with familiar venom.
My gaze lingered on the attached photo showing Nate and me at the dog park, heads close together in what looked like an intimate conversation. So that’s why Kyle called that day. Taylor must have sent him the same photo.
I stared at the image, studying the careful angle that made a simple conversation look like something more. Classic Taylor, always manipulating perceptions.
“Don’t you ever get tired of playing this game?” I typed back, surprising, myself with how steady my fingers felt. “Stop. bothering to follow me, or I will sue you for stalking.”
The response was immediate: “Is that a threat, dear sister?
“No, it’s a promise.”
More messages flooded in:
“You think you’re so special now?”
“Just because Kyle’s been playing nice?”
“We both know you’ll always be second best.”
I found myself laughing – actually laughing – at her desperate attempts to hurt me. The sound startled Gasoline, who lifted his head from his bed to give me a curious look.
“It’s okay, buddy,” I assured him. “Just your Aunt Taylor being herself.”
My phone kept buzzing with her increasingly unhinged messages. read them with a strange sense of detachment, noticing how her perfectly crafted facade cracked with each text.
“You know what, Taylor?” I typed. “You can have him. I’m divorcing Kyle anyway. Maybe focus your energy on becoming his wife instead of stalking me?”
The sudden silence on her end was telling. Three dots appeared and disappeared several times before her response came:
“You’re lying.”
“Ask him yourself,” I replied, then blocked the number.
My hands shook slightly as I scrolled through my contacts, finding Scarlett’s number. She answered on the first ring.
“This better be good – I’m in the middle of a face mask.”
“Taylor’s stalking me,” I said without preamble. “I need your lawyer friend’s number.”
The sound of something clattering told me she’d probably dropped her phone in excitement. “Are you serious? Please ne you have proof. Please tell me we can finally take that witch down!
“Scar-”
“No, no, this is perfect! I’ve been waiting years for this! Hold on, let me get Marcus’s number – oh my god, he’s going to love this case-
“Scarlett!” I cut her off, though I couldn’t help smiling. “Don’t get too excited.”
“Too late! I’m already planning what to wear to court. We’re going to destroy her, Mia. Legally and publicly and-”
1/3
“Can you just send me his number?”
“Fine.” She huffed. “But I want to be there when you meet with him. And I want copies of everything. So–Get dressed,” she announced without preamble. “We’re getting dinner and discussing strategy.“.
“Scar-”
“Nope! No arguments. I’m already on my way. Wear that green dress that makes you look like a goddess. And bring those messages, meeting me at La Maison.”
An hour later, I sat across from Scarlett at our favorite French restaurant, wearing the requested green dress and trying not to laugh at her excitement.
“Show me everything,” she demanded, barely glancing at her menu. “Every nasty little message, every threat. Oh, this is going to be beautiful.”
“You’re enjoying this way too much.”
“Of course I am! Do you know how long I’ve waited to see Taylor get what’s coming to her?” She paused as our waiter approached. “We’ll have the Bordeaux. The expensive one.”
“Scarlett!”
“What? We’re celebrating! My best friend is finally standing up to her evil stepsister, we’re about to destroy said evil stepsister legally, and-” she gestured at my outfit “-you look hot. These are all excellent reasons for expensive wine.”
I shook my head, but couldn’t help smiling. “You’re impossible.”
“I’m right and you know it.”
“Can we focus on the actual legal issues here?”
“Fine.” She pulled out her phone. “But we’re coming back to this. Marcus says he can meet us for breakfast tomorrow. 9 AM at his office.”
“That’s… fast.”
“Of course it is. I told him it was urgent.” She grinned wickedly. “I may have also mentioned Taylor’s family connections and the potential publicity.”
“Scarlett!”
“What? It worked, didn’t it?” She raised her wine glass. “To taking down bitches legally.”
I couldn’t help laughing as I clinked my glass against hers. “You’re terrible.‘
“Yes, but you love me anyway.” Her expression softened. “I’m proud of you, you know. The old Mia would have just taken Taylor’s abuse silently.”
I thought about it, sipping my wine.
“You’re different,” Scarlett said suddenly, her expression serious. Stronger. Happier.”
“I am,” I realized. “I really am.”
The house was quiet when I got home, but the smell of fresh kibble led me to the kitchen. Gasoline bounded over, his tail wagging furiously as he greeted me like I’d been gone for years instead of hours.
“He’s already had his dinner,” Mrs. Chen called from where she was wiping down counters. “We had quite the adventure at the park earlier.”
I watched Gas practically dance around my legs, clearly still full of energy despite his supposed adventure. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“Nonsense.” She waved off my protest. “He’s good company. Aren’t you, handsome?”
Gas’s tail wagged harder at her tone.
“Still,” I said, settling at the kitchen island. “It’s not part of your job description.”
Mrs. Chen paused in her cleaning, something unreadable crossing her face. “Some things we do because we should, not because
we must.”
“Why?”
She was quiet for a long moment, methodically folding her cleaning cloth. “Some debts can’t be repaid with just salary.”
I digested this new information. I decided not to ask further.Perhaps everyone has their own story. Everyone is the protagonist of their own story.
She gestured to the stove. “There’s fresh soup if you’re hungry.”
“I already ate, but thank you.”
She nodded, gathering her cleaning supplies. At the door, she paused. “Ms. Mia? Whatever happens… you’ve changed too. For the better.”
I looked up. “Thank you, Mrs. Chen. For everything.”
After she left, I sat in the quiet kitchen, absently scratching Gas’s ears while he leaned against my leg. My phone sat silent now Taylor’s blocked messages no longer demanding attention.
I thought about the photo she’d sent, trying to remember that moment with Nate. We’d been discussing Mom’s upcoming surgery, I recalled. Nothing scandalous, nothing inappropriate – just two people talking while their dogs played.
But Taylor had tried to twist it into something else. She can do what she like to do. The difference was, this time I wasn’t afraid.
C
