Read The Unwanted Wife and Her Secret Twins novel by Artemis Z.Y. Updated 2025 -26 - The Unwanted Wife and Her Secret Twins Chapter 197

The Unwanted Wife and Her Secret Twins Chapter 197

“Carol,” I whispered, the name unfamiliar yet devastating in its implications. “Her daughter’s name was Carol?

Dubois nodded slowly, his weathered face Impassive. “That’s all I know. Diana was always very protective of her daughter’s identity, even before the threats began. The girl wasn’t at the lake house when Diana died. I assumed she was left with relatives or friends.”

I stared at the yellowed envelope in my hands, the name “Carol” written across it in elegant script.

“Did anyone else know about the child?” I asked.

“If they did, they never spoke of it officially.” Dubois sipped his tea, his gaze fixed on some point beyond my shoulder. “Your father was… thorough in removing traces of Diana’s personal life from the record. Medical files disappeared. Former colleagues suddenly couldn’t recall certain details. It was as if parts of her existed only in memory.”

So if all these were true. My father had systematically erased a woman’s existence and possibly orchestrated her

murder.

And, if Diana’s letter was to be believed, he might have unknowingly had another child. A sister I never knew existed.

I nodded, slipping the envelope carefully into my jacket’s inner pocket. “Thank you for your honesty.”

“Don’t thank me,” he replied, his expression hardening. “What I did was unforgivable. I chose my comfort over justice for a murdered woman.” He gestured to the modest apartment around us. “This is my penance. Living in exile, waiting for the day when my crimes are exposed.”

I left the apartment building. I hailed a taxi and directed the driver to my hotel, fighting the urge to look over my shoulder.

In the relative privacy of the back seat, I withdrew my phone and dialed Matthew, the former intelligence officer leading my private security team.

“Sir,” he answered on the first ring.

“I need you to search birth records for a Carol Porter,” I said without preamble. “Born approximately twenty- eight to thirty years ago, possibly in New York State.”

“Mother’s name Diana Porter?”

“Yes. This is top priority, Matthew. I need everything you can find, and I need it yesterday.”

“Understood. I’ll start immediately. Any other instructions?

“Nothing for now. Call me as soon as you have something.”

If Diana Porter’s daughter existed, she would be nearly my age. A half–sister I never knew I had.

Husband: Hate Pierce

While I’d grown up in privilege, with every material advantage, what had her life been like?

Back in my hotel suite, I locked the door and pulled the blackout curtains closed.

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I opened the envelope. The letter inside was written on cream–colored stationery, the same elegant handwriting that addressed the envelope filling both sides of the single sheet:

My dearest Carol,

If you are reading this, then my fears have been realized. I’ve made arrangements for this letter to reach you should anything happen to me, though I pray it never will.

First and foremost, know that you have been the greatest joy of my life. Every choice I’ve made, I’ve made with your safety and future in mind. Including the choice to keep you separate from the Porter name and legacy.

There are things you must know. Your father is Alexander Branson, though he is unaware of your existence. I chose not to tell him when I discovered I was pregnant, and that decision has protected you thus far. The Branson family has tremendous influence and wealth, but also dangerous connections. Alexander is involved in business dealings that have crossed lines. When I began investigating discrepancies in the Santiago mining operation, I discovered corruption that reaches to the highest levels of government and business.

These are powerful men who will stop at nothing to protect their interests. If they knew of your existence, you would become a target as well.

Stay away from the Bransons. Stay away from the Porters. Trust no one connected to either family.

I’ve left funds for you in a trust that cannot be traced back to me. Use it to build a life far from here. Perhaps Europe, as we often discussed. Do not return to the United States.

Remember that I love you, always and completely. And forgive me for the burdens this secret has placed upon

you.

With eternal love, Your mother

I read the letter twice more.

My phone rang, startling me from my thoughts. Matthew’s number flashed on the screen.

“What did you find?” I asked, forgoing any greeting.

“I found her, sir,” Matthew replied, his tone grave. “But I’m afraid she’s already dead.”

The words hit me like a physical blow. “Dead? When?”

“Carol Porter, born June 12, 1990, at a small hospital near Albany. Mother’s name: Diana Porter. Father listed as Unknown.‘ She died five years ago. The death certificate lists suicide as the cause.”

I just discovered the existence of a half–sister only to learn she was already gone seemed a particularly cruel

twist of fate.

“

Is there anything else? Any children, spouse, other family?”

Husband Nate Piorco

“She was married. Her legal name at time of death was Carol Pierce. Husband: Nate Pierce.”

The name jolted through me like an electric current. “Nate Pierce?”

“Yes, sir. They were married August 23, 2016. She died approximately ten months later.”

Nate. The doctor who had taken such a special Interest in Mia’s mother’s case. Who had become suspiciously close to Mia. He had deliberately inserted himself into Mia’s life. Check latest chapters at fιɴdnοvel.net

“Sir? Are you still there?”

“Yes,” I managed, my mind racing, “I need everything on Nathan Pierce. Background, financials, travel records, communications–everything. And I need a flight back to New York. Tonight.”

“Already on it, sir. There’s a private jet available. It can be ready to depart within the hour.”

“Book it.”

I ended the call and immediately dialed Mia’s number, my hands almost trembling with urgency. straight to voicemail–her phone was either turned off or she was blocking my calls.

ency. The call went

“Mia,” I said after the beep, struggling to keep my voice steady, “I’m coming back to New York tonight. You might be in danger. Call me back as soon as you get this. Please.”

I tried Scarlett next, but her phone rang unanswered as well. Then Morton, with the same result.

It couldn’t be coincidence that none of them were answering. Something was wrong.

I gathered my essential belongings, leaving instructions for the hotel staff to pack and ship the rest. Within twenty minutes, I was in a car headed for the private airfield where Matthew had arranged for the jet.

“I need someone checking on Mia immediately,” I said. “Send whatever team members we have in New York to her apartment. And alert Morton–keep trying his number until he answers.

“Already done, sir. A team is en route to Ms. Williams‘ building now.”

“Good. Keep me updated on any developments.”

As the car pulled up to the private terminal, I could see the sleek form of the jet waiting on the tarmac, engines. already running. Never had the seven–hour flight between Paris and New York seemed so insurmountably long,

I checked my messages one last time before boarding. Still nothing from Mia. 1

“Hold on,” I whispered, though she couldn’t hear me. “I’m coming.”