The Unwanted Wife and Her Secret Twins

Unwanted Feelings

Kyle's POV

I couldn't focus on work. The image of Mia with that man kept playing in my mind. Jeo Parker. Even his name irritated me.

"Linda," I called through the intercom. "Get me everything you can find on Jeo Parker."

"The designer?" Linda's voice was carefully neutral. "Right away, sir."

I loosened my tie. The office felt too hot. What would Mia be doing at his design firm? Would she be alone with him? Would they work late together? Artists do that sort of thing, don't they?

The thought of them in his studio made my jaw clench. Would he teach her how to hold a brush? Would his hands touch hers? Would they work on portraits? Would she pose for him?

I yanked my tie completely off. The images wouldn't stop. Mia smiling at him the way she used to smile at me. Mia staying late at his studio. Mia letting him get too close.

"Stop it," I muttered, pouring myself a drink. This was purely professional concern. Nothing more. Mia was my wife. On paper, at least. I had a right to know about her work environment.

Linda knocked and entered with a thick file. "Jeo Parker's background, sir."

I flipped through it, my frown deepening with each page. Award-winning independent designer. Guest lecturer at prestigious art schools. His work had been featured in major galleries across Europe. Forbes' 30 Under 30. Private commissions from celebrities and royalty.

Something uncomfortable settled in my stomach. "Find out more about his personal life."

Linda hesitated. "Sir?"

"Is he married? Dating anyone?"

"I'll check." She paused. "There's something else you should know."

I looked up.

"Miss Williams was an art major in college. She had a full scholarship offer to Paris."

I stared at her. "What?"

"She turned it down when you hired her as your secretary." Linda's voice was careful. "Her professors said she was exceptionally talented."

The uncomfortable feeling in my stomach grew. Why hadn't I known this? Had I ever asked Mia about her interests? Her dreams?

"Should I look into acquiring his company?" I asked abruptly.

Linda gave me a long look. "Is that really what this is about, sir?"

"Get our lawyers to—"

"Mr. Branson," Linda interrupted, something she rarely did. "Maybe you should talk to your wife instead of trying to buy her colleague's company."

I dismissed her with a wave. My phone buzzed. Taylor. I ignored it.

Taylor. She used to mean everything to me. Now... now her calls felt like interruptions. When had that changed?

I drove home early, something I never did. The house was quiet when I entered. Mia was in the living room, sketching something in a notebook. She looked up, surprised to see me.

"You're home early."

I walked over, studying her face. She looked tired. Pale. Was she working too hard? Was she sick? Or was she just excited about her new job with him?

Without thinking, I pulled her up from the couch. She felt small in my arms, familiar. Right. I lowered my head to kiss her.

She turned away suddenly, her hand flying to her mouth. Before I could react, she ran to the bathroom. I heard her retching.

"Mia?" I followed her, concern overriding my annoyance. "Are you sick?"

She emerged pale, wiping her mouth. "I'm fine."

"You don't look fine." I reached for her, but she stepped back.

"I won't be your backup plan anymore, Kyle." Her voice was tired. "I won't share you with Taylor."

"This isn't about Taylor." The thought of Taylor felt distant, unimportant.

"Then what is it about?" Her green eyes challenged me. "Why are you really here?"

Because I can't stand the thought of you working with him. Because the idea of another man making you smile makes me want to destroy something. Because— "Because you're my wife."

"Your contract wife," she corrected bitterly.

I noticed her reaching for something in the bathroom cabinet. A pill bottle. "What are those?"

"Nothing." She tried to hide them, but I caught a glimpse of the label.

"You've been taking a lot of pills lately."

"They're just vitamins." She clutched the bottle tightly.

"For your new job?" I couldn't keep the sarcasm from my voice.

"Yes, actually. I need to be healthy." She tried to move past me.

I blocked her path. "Tell me about this job."

"Why? So you can try to stop me from taking it?"

"I want to know what you'll be doing."

She laughed, but it wasn't a happy sound. "Now you're interested in what I do? After three years of treating me like your convenient bedroom arrangement?"

Her words stung more than they should have. "That's not fair."

"No? When's my birthday, Kyle? What's my favorite color? What did I study in college?" Her voice cracked. "You don't know anything about me because you never cared to ask."

"I know enough."

"You know what's in our contract. That's all." She pushed past me. "I need to get ready for bed."

"We're not done talking about this job."

She spun around. "Yes, we are. You made your choice a long time ago, Kyle. You chose Taylor. Now I'm making my choice."

"This isn't about Taylor," I repeated, my voice hard.

"Then why did you spend the last three days with her?"

Because I was angry. Because I needed to prove I didn't care what you did. Because being with her felt wrong now, and I don't understand why. "That's none of your business."

"Exactly." She smiled sadly. "Just like my new job is none of yours."

I watched her walk away, feeling strangely helpless. When had everything become so complicated? This was supposed to be a simple arrangement. A marriage of convenience. Nothing more.

So why did the thought of her working with Jeo Parker make me want to destroy everything he'd built?

My phone buzzed again. Taylor.

For the first time, I didn't want to answer. Instead, I found myself walking to my study, opening my laptop. I typed in the name of the pills I'd seen Mia taking.

Something wasn't right. She was hiding something. And I was going to find out what.

But first, I had another call to make. "Linda? Find out everything you can about art studios. Working hours. Common practices." I paused. "And get me Jeo Parker's complete schedule."

I had a feeling I wouldn't be sleeping much tonight. The thought of Mia in his studio, spending hours alone with him... No. I wouldn't let that happen.

She was my wife. Contract or not, she belonged with me.