Read The Unwanted Wife and Her Secret Twins novel by Artemis Z.Y. Updated 2025 -26 - The Unwanted Wife and Her Secret Twins Chapter 217

The Unwanted Wife and Her Secret Twins Chapter 217

Do we have a dad?

Mia’s POV

“Uncle Nate!” The boys raced past me as I opened the door, launching themselves at Nate’s legs.

He caught them both with practiced ease, crouching down to their level. At his heels were his dogs.

“Well, if it isn’t the hair stylists of Manhattan,” Nate teased, ruffling both boys‘ hair. He looked up at me with a sympathetic smile. “How bad is it?”

“See for yourself,” I stepped aside as Gas trotted over, showing off his singed patch.

Nate inspected the damage with a professional eye. “Nothing serious. Dr. Riley will fix him up.” He glanced at me, taking in my outfit. “Important meeting?”

“Bernard Leblanc is in town. We are going to visit to the Chelsea wellness center today.”

He nodded appreciatively. “Go knock ‘em dead. We’ll handle the dog emergency.”

“Boys,” I crouched down to their level, fixing them with my serious look. “You are to behave for Uncle Nate. No more experiments, no more makeovers, no more ‘improving anything. Understood?”

“Yes, Mama,” they chorused.

I kissed them each on the forehead, breathing in their familiar scent of apple shampoo and that indefinable essence of little boy. “I love you both, even when you’re driving me crazy.”

“Love you infinity,” Alexander replied, our standard farewell.

“Love you infinity plus one,” Ethan added, never to be outdone.

As I grabbed my portfolio and headed for the door, I heard Alexander ask Nate, “Can we still show Einstein and Schrödinger how to ride the skateboard?” Chapters first released on find⸺novel.net

I pretended not to hear Nate’s laughing response as I closed the door behind me.

The meeting with Bernard went brilliantly. At seventy–two, he was gradually stepping back from the day–to- day operations, transitioning more responsibility to me. The Chelsea project would be entirely under my direction a state–of–the–art children’s hospital with an integrated trauma recovery center.

“Your vision has transformed this firm, Mia,” Bernard said as we reviewed the preliminary concepts. “I never imagined when I offered you that position four years ago that we would be here.”

I smiled, remembering the terrified new mother who had accepted that opportunity despite having newborn twins and a life.in shambles. “I never imagined it either.”

After the meeting, I had a working lunch with Camille, reviewing the week ahead. I had a video conference with the Marseille clients tomorrow, a site visit on Wednesday, and meetings with potential investors on Thursday. Friday I was flying to Paris with the boys for two weeks at our apartment there.

“Oh, and Scarlett called,” Camille mentioned as she scrolled through her tablet. “She’s back from Milan and

wants to see the boys tomorrow.”

“Add her to the calendar for tomorrow evening.” I replied. “The boys miss their Auntie Scar.”

Scarlett had reinvented herself after her divorce from Morton two years ago, transforming from corporate wife to social media phenomenon. Her 1*******m account, with its perfect blend of luxury lifestyle content and surprisingly authentic commentary, had amassed millions of followers. She traveled constantly now, documenting fashion shows in Milan, art exhibitions in Berlin, and beach retreats in Santorini.

The divorce had shocked everyone. What I can say was that Morton still wore his wedding ring

I checked my watch–2:45 PM. Time to call the vet about Gas.

“Riley Animal Hospital,” a cheerful voice answered.

“Hi, this is Mia Williams. I’m calling about my dog Gas. He was brought in earlier by Nate Pierce.”

“Oh yes, Mrs. Williams! Dr. Riley says Gas is fine–just a superficial burn to the fur. No skin damage. He’s already back with Dr. Pierce and your boys.”

“Thank you,” I said, relief washing over me. “Could you put Dr. Pierce on the phone if he’s available?”

A moment later, Nate’s voice came through. “Your dog will live to see another terrible makeover.”

“Thank goodness,” I laughed. “How are the boys?”

“Currently building an obstacle course for the dogs in the park. They’ve recruited three other children and a very confused elderly man with a pug”

“Sounds about right,” I said, imagining the scene. “I should be done by four. I can meet you at the park.”

“No rush,” Nate assured me. “We’re having a blast. Finish your work.”

At 4:15 PM, I packed up my work and headed to Central Park. I spotted them immediately–the twins racing around a makeshift course of sticks and jackets, directing dogs and children with equal authority. Nate sat on a bench nearby, keeping a watchful eye while chatting with another parent.

As I approached, Ethan spotted me first. “Mama! Look what we made!”

I admired their elaborate creation as Alexander explained the rules with great seriousness. “The dogs have to jump over the sticks, then go around the jackets, then sit on the sweater, then bark three times.”

“Very impressive,” I said, genuinely meaning it. Their creativity never ceased to amaze me.

“Did you save the hospital today?” Ethan asked, slipping his small hand into mine.

This was his standard question about my work–in his mind, I designed buildings that “made sick people better,

which translated to “saving hospitals” in four–year–old logic.

“I think I did,” I replied, squeezing his hand. “We’re going to build a very special hospital in Chicago.”

“With a rocket ship room?” Alexander asked hopefully. This was his standing request for all my projects.

Chapter 217 Do we have a dad?

“I’ll see what I can do,” I promised.

Nate approached, Gas trotting happily beside him. “Crisis averted. Gas has been pronounced fully recovered, though perhaps slightly less fashionable than intended.”

“Thank you for today,” I said sincerely. “I don’t know what I’d do without you sometimes.”

“That’s what friends are for,” he replied with a warm smile

. “Besides, these two keep me young.

As we gathered the boys‘ belongings, I checked my phone to find a text from Scarlett:

Just landed! Bringing French presents for my favorite troublemakers tomorrow. Tell them Auntie Scar has missed them infinity plus TWO.

I smiled, texting back:

They’ll be thrilled. 6PM tomorrow?

Her response came with a string of emojis:

Perfect!

I chose to ignore the second part of her message, focusing instead on getting the boys home. “We need to get ready for dinner with Thomas,” I reminded them as we walked back to our apartment.

“Is he bringing us a surprise?” Alexander asked, always attuned to the possibility of gifts.

“He mentioned something about that,” I admitted.

Both boys cheered, their energy apparently limitless despite hours in the park.

Back at the apartment, the evening routine began–baths (with extra attention to washing all the park dirt from behind their ears), clean clothes, a brief battle over which shoes were appropriate for dinner.

As I helped Ethan with his shirt buttons, he looked up at me with those serious grave

father’s it sometimes made my breath catch.

“Mama?” he asked quietly.

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“Tommy said his dad teaches him to play baseball. Do we have a dad who could teach us?”

much like his

The question pierced me like a physical pain. They’d been asking more frequently lately, as they noticed other children with fathers.

I kept my voice steady. “We’ve talked about this, remember? Some families have a mom and a dad. Some have two moms or two dads. Soffe, like us, just have a mom.”

“But HOW did we get made?” Alexander asked, joining the conversation with his typical bluntness. “Tommy says you need a dad to make kids.”

I took a deep breath. “That’s true. You did have a father who helped make you. But he couldn’t stay with us.”

Do we have a dad?

“Why not?” Ethan persisted.

The doorbell rang, saving me from this particular conversation. “That must be Thomas,” I said with perhaps too much enthusiasm.

The boys immediately forgot their questions, racing to the door. “Thomas! Thomas! What’s our surprise?”