#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 don’t understand, I’m

says, brusk. “You’ve been evicted, we’re just doing our job.” With that,

it up, checking to see if it’s broken. It lights up, and I quickly scan through it to make sure the file aren’t corrupted. Thank god

up – Mrs. Welk – and my 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.

to them, ready to assure them that everything is fine. But wait – I look over the boys and realize

are covered in blood, with tiny little cuts all over. Alvin has

himself around me. Ian does the same, but without

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

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

I say, softly,

were just so horrible about you,

were a prota- prostatute,” he says, pronouncing

boyfriends,” Ian goes on, “and

they give

cry harder, and I hold them close, filled with rage at the horrible

eager to stay here, if this

to leave, I whisper to the boys to be strong, to not believe anything those stupid kid at school said, and to go and sit in

control. As they go, I raise my phone, intending to call a

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

myself for this. Then I walk over to him, pasting a sunny smile on my face. “Hey Vic! Beautiful day we’re having here. Are

is going on, Evelyn,” he says

you to cancel the boys’ visit. Clearly,” I wave my hands towards my mess

Evelyn,” he snarls, “what’s happening!? Are you being

face. “But yeah, obviously. But, as I have done a thousand times in the past six years, I’m going to figure it

me and surveys the scene, his Alpha need to control and dominate any situation coming out.

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

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