Pregnant With Alpha’s Genius Twins

#Chapter 19 – Daddy’s House

“Please,” I say, clutching the phone and trying to explain the situation to my landlord. “You don’t understand, this is an angry former client who has no grounds for this harassment – “

My boys are at Victor’s house, meeting Amelia, thank god. I don’t want them to hear any of this.

“It doesn’t matter to me, Ms. Ortega,” my landlord’s tinny voice zings through the phone. “It doesn’t matter to me if the client’s vandalism is unfounded – what matters is that my tenant is putting me in a situation where my home is being vandalized!”

I slap my hand to my forehead. Overnight, Emily came back and spraypainted w***e LIVES HERE all over my front windows. It was everything I could do to get it scrubbed off before Victor picked up the boys, but I guess I wasn’t fast enough.

“You have six weeks,” she says, prim and cruel. “Then I’m renting to someone else, someone who doesn’t do s*x work to pay my mortgage.”

I exhale, clenching my teeth against the rage that builds inside me. Her false accusations aside, it is unfortunately within her written rights to end my lease with six week’s notice, for any reason. “Fine,” I say, unwilling to fight anymore.

She hangs up and I rest my head back against my office chair. God. What the hell was I going to do now.

The time passes too quickly. I apply – quietly, discreetly – to every open house in the area, but every one tells me no. My landlord, unfortunately, has poisoned my name and my reputation.

The night before my lease ends, I sit up, alone, in the silence of my office. I don’t want to scare the boys, but we have to be out tomorrow and we have absolutely nowhere to go.

I even asked Mark for help, and Delia. They were sympathetic, of course, but they both live in one-room apartments. Neither could offer me anything real. Delia even called her parents, in Ohio, and they said they’d be happy to take us in – but I don’t want to uproot my boys like that.

Luckily, the boys been distracted, spending so much time with their dad. I never thought I’d be grateful to him for taking them away from me.

The next day is Monday, so I pack the boys off to school. When they’re gone, I head to the realtor’s office, ready to chase up one last lead. The realtor herself is sympathetic, but the lead goes nowhere. When we arrive to view the house, the key is missing from the hide-a-key.

The realtor twists her mouth at me, clearly feeling bad. “I’m sorry, Evelyn,” she says. “Looks like they got to this one as well.”

I sigh and climb back into my car, heading home. What the hell was I going to do?

As I pull up my street, my eyes find sheer chaos. s**t s**t s**t, I think, throwing my car in park, leaping out and running towards the front door where guys are throwing my stuff – all of my stuff, the boys’ toys, my linens, the food from my fridge – onto the front lawn.

back. “You

of the guys says, brusk. “You’ve been evicted, we’re just doing our job.” With that, he dumps

corrupted. Thank god – everything, my client list, my consultations – it’s still intact. I

boys climb out of the back seat, crying their eyes out. I make eye contact with Mrs. Welk, intending to thank her for driving the boys home after their Monday chess club, but she just sneers at me. Fine. I ignore her and turn to my

it’s okay,” I say, crouching down next to them, ready to assure them that everything is fine. But wait – I look over the boys and realize that they’re not crying because of the house, they’re in pain

all over. Alvin has a scraped knee, and Ian a shallow cut

around me. Ian does

leeching into my voice. “Are you okay? What happened

lest they see what’s happening and further freak out. I shush and cosset them until they calm down, telling them that

say, softly, gently. “What

usual. “They were just

be brave. “They kept saying you were – you were a prota-

Ian goes on, “and that you let them do

they give

I hold them close, filled with rage at the horrible children who would say such vicious

I so eager to stay here, if this is how they’re treated at

to not believe anything those stupid kid at school said,

someone else in control. As they go, I

my eye. I turn and see – of course, knowing my luck – Victor

myself for this. Then I walk over to him, pasting a

at me, unamused. “What the f**k is going on, Evelyn,” he says low, dangerous. “Why are my

I say, matching his tone and mocking him. “I texted you to cancel the boys’ visit. Clearly,” I wave my hands towards my mess of a front yard, “we have other

snarls, “what’s happening!?

closer and snarling into his face. “But yeah, obviously. But, as I have done a thousand times

control and dominate any situation coming out. Then he takes three steps

they’re doing. “Thank you for your work,” Victor says, assured. “You are now finished – my own team will come and