Read The Unwanted Wife and Her Secret Twins novel by Artemis Z.Y. Updated 2025 -26 - The Unwanted Wife and Her Secret Twins Chapter 198

The Unwanted Wife and Her Secret Twins Chapter 198

Ylayla’s Restaurant The rightful source is find(ɴ)ovel.net

Mia’s POV

I couldn’t sleep. My mind raced with fragments that refused to connect,

I kept thinking about what my dad had told me before he died, that Nate was involved in this whole thing. But Nate wouldn’t tell me anything

Nate’s grandmother. The thought appeared suddenly, bright and clear amid the chaos in my head. Yiryla. The warm–hearted Greek woman at that small Mediterranean restaurant Nate had taken me to months ago

If anyone might know something about Nate’s past, it would be his grandmother. She had looked at me with such knowing eyes that day, commenting that “growing babies need food” before I’d told her I was pregnant.

I made the decision in an instant.

Mom was at another of her mysterious “appointments” that made her eyes sparkle. No one would miss me for a few hours.

Gas watched me accusingly as I prepared to leave.

“I won’t be long,” I promised him.

The taxi ride to the small restaurant in the East Village. My heart was pounding. Would I disturb Nate’s grandmother? I told myself not to say too much that I shouldn’t.

The restaurant looked exactly as I remembered. The small, cozy place nestled between other shops, with blue and white trim and the scent of olive oil and herbs spilling out onto the sidewalk

A bell chimed softly as I entered. The afternoon lull meant only two other tables were occupied. Behind the counter, Yiayia looked up, her silver hair pulled back in a tight bun, her hands covered in flour.

Recognition lit her face immediately.

“Ah! Nate’s friend! The pretty girl with the babies!” Her accent wrapped around the words like a warm embrace.

“Hello, Yiayia,” I said, smiling despite my nerves.

She wiped her hands on her apron and hurried around the counter, clucking disapprovingly as she approached. Still too thin! Babies need more food. Come, sit.”

I let her guide me to a corner table, away from the other customers. She disappeared into the kitchen before [ could speak, returning moments later with a plate of dolmades and a glass of water.

“Eat,” she commanded. “Then we talk.”

The stuffed grape leaves were delicious, and I realized I was actually hungry. Yiayia watched with satisfaction as I ate, her

dark eyes missing nothing.

“Good girl,” she nodded when I’d finished several. “Now, why you come here alone? Where is my grandson to bring you?”

viayla’s Restaurant

“Nate wasn’t in New York. I miss your cooking, Ylayla.” Illed. “I was hoping to talk to you about him, actually.”

Ylayia studied me, “Let me see. You care for my Nate?” she asked, her directness catching me off guard.

“He’s been very kind to me. He helped my mother when she was III.”

Ylayia nodded slowly. “He has good heart. Healer’s hands, like his father.” She sighed. “But sad eyes, like his mother.”

This was my opening. “He mentioned his mother passed away when he was young.

Pain flickered across her weathered face. “Too young, too soon. Some lights shouldn’t be put out early.”

“I’m sorry,” I said sincerely. “That must have been very difficult for your family.”

“For the boys, most difficult,” she said, her gaze distant with memory. “Nate’s brother, he was old enough to understand but too young to accept. But Nate…” She shook her head. “Different pain, same wound.”

I knew from previous conversations with Nate that he had a brother, though he rarely mentioned him.

“They were close?” I asked.

“Once, yes. Now, paths separate. Complicated, like I say.”

I took a sip of water, gathering my courage. “What was she like? Nate’s mother?”

Yiayia’s face softened with love. “Beautiful. Smart. Too curious, maybe. Always asking questions, looking for truth.” She reached across the table and patted my hand. “Like you, I think.”

The comparison startled me. “Me?”

“Yes. Eyes that want to know things. Not afraid to look.” She tapped her temple. “Smart woman. My daughter would have liked you.”

Yiayia stood. “Wait.”

She disappeared behind the counter and into a small back office. I used the moment to take several deep breaths. My hands trembled slightly with anticipation.

When she returned, she carried an old photograph in a simple wooden frame. She placed it on the table before me, her weathered finger tapping the glass.

“My daughter. With her boys.”

I looked down and felt the world shift beneath me.

The woman in the photo was Diana Porter I saw in the news before. The same delicate features, the same dark hair, though styled differently than in the news images I’d seen. Shorter. She sat on a park bench, her arms around two young boys–one serious–faced child I recognized as a young Nate, and another boy with similar features but a mischievous smile.

The resemblance was uncanny. Impossible.

Viyia’s Restaurant

“This is… this is Nate’s mother?” I managed to say, my voice barely audible.

“Yes,” Yiayla nodded, watching my reaction closely. “My Thea.”

Thea? Not Diana. That is impossible.

I stared at the photograph, unable to look away. The woman was identical to Diana Porter–the wornan whose journal I possessed, whose death was allegedly orchestrated by Kyle’s father, who supposedly had a daughter named Carol.

None of it made sense.

“Yiayia,” I began, not sure what question to ask first. My mind whirled with possibilities, each more confusing than the last.