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.

I cry, running to hold them back. “You

evicted, we’re just doing our job.” With that, he dumps the box with

I quickly scan through it to make sure the file aren’t corrupted. Thank god – everything, my client list, my consultations – it’s still intact. I take the box and stow

climb out of the back seat, crying their eyes out. I make eye contact with Mrs. Welk, intending to thank her

is fine. But wait –

blood, with tiny little cuts all over. Alvin has a scraped knee, and Ian a

me. Ian does

true fear leeching into my voice. “Are you okay?

reluctant to tell me. I peel them off me and stand them with their backs to the house, lest they

softly,

were just so horrible about

brave. “They kept saying you were – you were a prota- prostatute,” he says, pronouncing the word wrong, but getting his meaning across

on, “and that you let them do bad things with you

they give

Alvin start to cry harder, and I hold them close, filled with rage at the horrible children who would say such

so eager to stay here, if this is

the boys to be strong, to not believe anything those stupid kid at

else in control. As they go, I raise my phone,

from the corner of my eye. I turn and see –

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

going on, Evelyn,” he says low, dangerous. “Why are my

you to cancel the boys’ visit. Clearly,” I wave

“what’s

into his face. “But yeah, obviously. But, as I have done a thousand times in the past six

coming out. Then he takes three steps onto the lawn and whistles, clapping his hands to

“You are now finished – my own team will