#Chapter 39 – Family Drama

The next morning, I wake up on Victor’s couch. It was such a disastrous end to a great date, I think, rubbing my head and yawning. Archie jumps up on the couch, giving me enthusiastic morning kisses, and I pet his precious face, cooing goodmorning to him but trying not to let him lick me quite so much.

“I thought it was my dog,” Victor says, and I turn to see him leaning against the doorframe, smirking at me.

“It was supposed to be your dog,” I say, standing and wrapping the throw blanket around myself. “I can’t help it if I’m just more lovable than you. Poor pup couldn’t resist.”

Victor laughs and whistles for the dog, who trots over to say good morning too. Victor gives him some scratches on his bum and Archie prances happily.

“I’ve increased patrols on your house,” Victor says, straightening up as the dog goes to look for the boys. “I apologize, I didn’t think to have a guard set while you were away. It won’t happen again.”

“Victor,” I say, running a hand through my hair, worried. “She knows where I am now…and she’s nuts. And that’s my professional diagnosis, which I don’t hand out easily.”

“It’s nothing my team can’t handle,” Victor says, turning to the kitchen, confident in his control. “She’s just one woman. If I couldn’t keep you safe from that, I don’t deserve my place as Alpha.”

I follow him into the kitchen, nodding and seeking coffee. I decide to trust him and not push any further, but I have to admit – I’m still wary. Emily is crafty and apparently determined.

“I’ll have a glazier come by this morning, to fix the window,” Victor says, handing me a mug and filling it with coffee. I accept and smile at him.

“Thank you for organizing that. Please send me the bill.”

He huffs and nods sarcastically, rolling his eyes.

“It’s my house, Victor, these are my problems.”

“And as your landlord,” he says, handing me the pitcher of cream, “it’s my job to cover incidental repairs.”

“But this wasn’t incidental –“

“Please, Evelyn,” he says, his voice deep and serious. “Don’t fight me on this. I told you I’d keep you safe. This was a breach of that promise. Let me make it right.”

I consider for a moment, and then nod. “At least let me have you and Evelyn over for dinner tonight,” I say, stirring the cream into my coffee with the spoon Victor hands me. “To say thanks.”

“We would love to,” he agrees.

“I don’t want her in my house,” I hear Alvin whisper to Ian as I walk into the kitchen that evening. They’re peeking through the kitchen window at Victor and Amelia coming across the lawn. Of course, being able to look out the back window means they’re both standing in the sink.

it’s my house,” I say, quickly crossing the room and lifting each boy down from the countertop. “How did

his eyes at me and running for the

boys,” Victor says, coming in and kissing them each on the head. Amelia follows him in, smiling at the boys and clearly

to her. “These flowers are so pretty, thank you for thinking of us,” I say,

my kitchen. “It’s very…quaint in here. I haven’t

ten-thousand-dollar diamond earrings for a casual dinner, thinks of things that are quaint.

am hungry!” Ian says, jumping

beans for dinner?!” With this, he scoops the bouncing Ian up into his arms and

his dad carries him into the living room. Alvin chases after, shouting that he, too, is a

follow the boys, slightly horrified. She jumps a little, surprised, and smiles her

ask her, taking the big bowl of greens out of the fridge. “Or, something else? I think we

eyeing my kitchen table, where the knives and forks are already set out. “I have to be

my home office. But it’s nice and cozy in here,” I say, gesturing to the four white chairs around the little white table, a set that I trash picked and painted when the boys were young and getting too

she mumbles,

from where you work,” I say laughing, setting plates at the table. “Bolivia sounds

casserole out of the oven and place it carefully on the table. Smelling it, the boys rush into the kitchen to wash their hands. Victor happily takes his seat at the head of the table, not bothering to consider if he should defer it to me in my own home. I smirk, knowing I

co-models, the photographers, and the boys tell Victor about their day at school. I heap salad on the boys’ plates, insisting on

is going perfectly well until

Ian whines, picking plaintively at his salad. “Can I have

I say, beginning to push back my

up, I’m momentarily grateful that we’re getting along – that she seems to be warming to me – when I see Alvin,

him slip a foot out from under the table, catching Amelia at

is disastrous. Amelia, in five inch stilettoes, stumbles and trips. She puts out her hands to catch herself but misses, hitting her face on the counter as she goes down. Alvin gasps, horror filling his eyes as he sees what he has done, looking down at Amelia laying on the

up. “Alvin,” I hiss. “We’re going to have a talk about this.” I move to help Amelia, who rolls over on the ground and reveals a gash above her

Amelia mumbles, reaching up with a shaking hand to touch the warm blood on her face. “Oh

Victor is suddenly at her side, taking the paper towels from me and helping her to sit up. I leave them to it, turning to glare at my boys, who are standing side-by-side with wide eyes and silent lips. I shake my head at them, my glare threatening. I know that they did this

one did it,” she says, pointing at Alvin. “He tripped me, he did it on

lies, stomping his foot and bursting into tears. “I DIDN’T!” He

him, my mom’s urge to comfort overwhelming my desire

booms out behind us. We all turn to see him kneeling next to Amelia, his face stern as she cries softly and holds the paper towel to her head. “You will apologize to Amelia,

overwhelmed. I know that he has done wrong, but my heart

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