Read The Unwanted Wife and Her Secret Twins novel by Artemis Z.Y. Updated 2025 -26 - The Unwanted Wife and Her Secret Twins Chapter 292
The Unwanted Wife and Her Secret Twins Chapter 292
Don’t contact me again
Mia’s POV
“The boys are with your mom,” Thomas said. “I picked them up earlier. Thought you might need some extra sleep.”
“What time is it?”
“Almost noon.”
I blinked in surprise. I never slept that late, not even on weekends.
“Thomas, “I said, moving toward the kitchen. “I can’t think when I’m hungry.”
He followed me, his footsteps soft on the hardwood floor. In the kitchen, I went through the motions of making coffee and toast, grateful for the familiar routine. Thomas sat at the counter, watching me move around the
space.
My phone buzzed with notifications. I’d been ignoring it since last night, but curiosity finally got the better of
- me.
Several missed calls from Scarlett. A string of text messages.
“WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK HAPPENED LAST NIGHT???”
“That BITCH is back???”
“Mia, call me RIGHT NOW.”
“Why aren’t you answering???”
“If you don’t call me back in ten minutes I’m calling the police to do a wellness check.”
The messages continued, getting progressively more worried and creative with profanity.
I typed back quickly: “I’m alive. Had some work to do this morning. Can we have dinner together later?”
Her response came immediately: “Work? MIA. Your ex–husband came back from the dead and got engaged to your psychotic stepsister and you’re thinking about WORK???”
“Yes.”
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‘Are you having a breakdown? Should I be worried?”
“No. I’m fine. Just need to handle some things.”
There was a long pause before her next message: “Okay. But I’m taking you somewhere with very strong drinks later.”
I set the phone aside and focused on my coffee, letting the caffeine work its magic on my foggy brain.
Chapter 292 Don’t contact me again
I finished my coffee and went to get dressed.
Today, my job is simple: terminate Maxwell’s contract. Chapters first released on find~novel~net
At my office, I went straight to my assistant Camille’s desk.
“I need the Maxwell contract,” I said without preamble. “The entire file.”
Camille looked up from her computer, her eyebrows raised slightly at my tone. “Is everything alright? You look
“I’m fine. Just get me the contract, please.”
She pulled the thick file from her filing cabinet and handed it to me. “Mia, is there a problem with the project? I thought everything was going well.”
“There’s been a change of circumstances,” I said, tucking the file under my arm. “I’ll be back later.”
I drove straight to Maxwell’s estate without an appointment.
I didn’t feel like making an appointment. Today, I didn’t want anyone to stop me.
It was ironic, really. I had spent so much time over the past four years thinking about where Kyle was, sending countless emails. I’d exhausted every possible avenue trying to find out what had happened to him.
The security guard at the gate recognized me and buzzed me through without question. The long driveway wound through perfectly manicured gardens, past the fountain I’d admired during my first visit here months
ago.
It felt like a lifetime ago.
Margaret, Kyle’s assistant, greeted me with her usual professional warmth. She was older, probably in her fifties, with graying hair and kind eyes behind wire–rimmed glasses.
“Ms. Williams! What a lovely surprise. Mr. Maxwell didn’t mention you’d be stopping by today.”
I maintained my composure, keeping my voice level and businesslike. “I didn’t make an appointment. I just need to see him briefly about our project.”
“Of course. Let me check if he’s available.”
She disappeared into his office, and I heard muted conversation through the heavy wooden door. After a moment, she emerged with a slightly confused expression.
“He’ll see you now,”
she said, though she looked puzzled by something.
I walked into Kyle’s office without knocking.
Sure enough, I saw Kyle soon after.
He was standing behind his massive desk, wearing a crisp white shirt and dark trousers. There was still a bruise on his chin from my punch last night, a purple–blue mark that stood out starkly against his pale skin.
Chapter 292 Don’t contact me again
For a moment, we just stared at each other across the expanse of his office. The morning light streaming through the tall windows highlighted the familiar lines of his face, the way his hair fell across his forehead, the exact shade of gray in his eyes that our sons had inherited.
I reached into my briefcase and pulled out our contract, the thick document that had governed our professional relationship for months. Without ceremony, I threw it at him.
The papers scattered across his desk and onto the floor, some sliding under his chair.
“Our project is over,” I said, my voice steady and clear. “Consider this my formal termination of our agreement.”
Kyle–Maxwell–whoever the hell he was calling himself today–didn’t move to pick up the papers. He just stood there, watching me with those gray eyes.
“Mia-”
“Don’t.” I held up my hand. “Don’t say my name. Don’t try to explain. Don’t insult my intelligence with more lies.”
“The project is ninety percent complete,” he said quietly. “You’ll lose a significant amount of money.”
“I don’t care about the money.”
“The wellness center could help a lot of people.”
“Find another architect.”
He was quiet for a momen. “Mia, I know you’re angry—”
“Angry?” I laughed, but there was no humor in it. “Kyle, I’m not angry. Angry would imply I still care enoug feel anything about what you do.”
His jaw tightened slightly, the only visible reaction to my words.
“I want you to listen to me very carefully,” I continued, my voice dropping to barely above a whisper. “Stop acting like a coward. Stop secretly monitoring my life and my children’s lives. Leave us completely alone.”
“You want to play dead? Stay dead. My sons don’t need a father who’s ashamed to claim them.”
The words hung in the air between us like a blade.
Kyle’s face went pale.
“Goodbye, Maxwell,” I said, putting deliberate emphasis on the fake name. “Don’t contact me again.”
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