Chapter 252
Mia’s POV
“Thomas and I have a relationship built on mutual respect and affection,” I said evenly. “Victoria, talking to me like this is pointless. Why not save your words for Thomas? If he’s willing to leave me for you, I have no problem with that p>
Victoria’s eyes flashed with fury. “I earned everything I have. I was a good wife to Theo. I supported his career, raised his daughter, played the perfect corporate wife for fifteen years. And what did I get for it? A husband who died and left me to figure out how to rebuild our lives alone p>
There was real pain in her voice now, raw and honest. For a moment, I almost felt sorry for her. Almost.
“I’m sorry for your loss,” I said, and I meant it. “Losing a spouse is devastating. But that doesn’t give you the right to attack my children. Also, Thomas is not Theo’s replacement p>
“From what I’ve seen, Thomas is pretty conflicted about where his loyalties lie p>
“Thomas is a good man who cares about a grieving child,” I said. “That doesn’t mean he’s conflicted about us p>
“Doesn’t it?” Victoria smiled again, that cold, calculating expression. “We’ll see about that p>
The threat was unmistakable. Whatever game Victoria was playing, she wasn’t finished yet.
“This conversation is over,” I said, reaching for my car door again.
“No, it’s not,” Victoria said sharply. “Because we haven’t talked about the real issue yet p>
“Which is p>
“You’re being selfish,” Victoria said bluntly. “You’re keeping Thomas tied to you and your children when you don’t really want him. When what you really want is your ex-husband back p>
“That’s not true,” I said.
“Isn’t it?” Victoria’s voice was soft now, almost gentle. “Come on, Mia p>
“I don’t know what game you’re playing,” I said finally, “but I’m not interested in participating p>
“That’s not true,” I said.
“Isn’t it?” Victoria’s voice was soft now, almost gentle. “Come on, Mia p>
“I don’t know what game you’re playing,” I said finally, “but I’m not interested in participating p>
“Listen, I’m willing to do whatever it takes to protect my daughter’s future,” Victoria shot back. “Madison has already lost one father. I won’t let her lose another one because of you p>
“Thomas isn’t Madison’s father,” I said. “He’s a family friend who cares about her. That’s not the same thing p>
“Isn’t it?” Victoria’s voice softened again, taking on that manipulative sweetness I was beginning to recognize.” Madison calls him Uncle Thomas. She lights up when she sees him. She talks about him constantly. For all practical purposes, he’s the closest thing to a father she has p>
“Then maybe you should focus on helping her process her grief instead of trying to force a replacement relationship that doesn’t exist,” I suggested.
Victoria’s face hardened. “Don’t you dare tell me how to raise my daughter p>
“Then don’t use your daughter to attack my sons,” I shot back.
We stared at each other for a moment, the mutual dislike crackling between us like electricity.
“This isn’t over,” Victoria said finally, echoing her words from yesterday.
“No,” I agreed. “It’s not. But the next time you want to have this conversation, you can leave the children out of it p>
I got into my car and drove away without looking back, but I could feel Victoria’s eyes on me the entire time.
I drove toward my office on autopilot until I reached my office building. I’d made a decision. I needed more information about Victoria Whitmore.
“Good morning, Mia,” Camille greeted me as I walked into the office. “You have the Maxwell review meeting at ten, the city planning call at two, and p>
“Camille,” I interrupted, settling into my chair. “I need you to do something for me. Discretely p>
She raised an eyebrow but nodded. “Of course. What do you need p>
“I need you to research someone. Victoria Whitmore. I want to know everything-her background, her late husband’s business dealings, her financial situation, her social connections. Everything p>
“Any particular reason?” Camille asked, already making notes.
“She’s… potentially problematic,” I said diplomatically. “I need to understand what I’m dealing with p>
“I’ll have something for you by the end of the day,” Camille promised.
“Thank you. And Camille? This stays between us p>
She nodded and closed my office door behind her, leaving me alone with my thoughts and my coffee and the growing certainty that my relatively peaceful life was about to get very complicated.
A soft knock interrupted my brooding. “Come in,” I called.
Camille peeked her head back in. “Sorry to bother you again, but there’s a delivery for you. Rather unusual one p>
“What kind of delivery p>
“See for yourself,” she said, opening the door wider.
A delivery man wheeled in a large box on a dolly, followed by a second man carrying what appeared to be an enormous gift basket.
“Mia Williams?” the first man asked.
“That’s me p>