#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.

quickly crossing the room and lifting each boy down from the countertop. “How did

me and running for the back door. He pulls it open. “Hi Dad,”

them each on the head. Amelia follows him in, smiling at the boys and clearly waiting for a greeting that they don’t give. She stands awkwardly for

say, moving over to her. “These flowers are so pretty, thank

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

my smile on my face. I know what Amelia, who is wearing ten-thousand-dollar diamond earrings for

says, jumping up and

for dinner?!” With this, he scoops the bouncing Ian up into his arms and pretends to take big bites out of his belly and arms.

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

glass of wine into Amelia’s hand as her eyes follow the boys, slightly horrified. She jumps a little, surprised, and smiles her thanks. I move to the oven, checking on the casserole, which

big bowl of greens out of the fridge. “Or, something else? I think we have some

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

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

“That’s…great,” she mumbles, “that way you can work

plates at the table. “Bolivia

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 was going to offer

photographers, and the boys tell Victor about their day at school. I heap salad on the boys’ plates, insisting on greens before cheese, and

going perfectly

plaintively at his salad. “Can I have some of the white

say, beginning

me a smile, “I’m closer.” As she stands up, I’m momentarily grateful that we’re getting along

a foot out from under the table, catching Amelia at

stilettoes, stumbles and trips. She puts out her hands to catch herself but misses, hitting her face on the counter as

on the ground

– “ Amelia mumbles, reaching up with a shaking hand to touch the warm

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,

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

did NOT,” Alvin lies, stomping his foot and

moving towards him, my mom’s urge

face stern as she cries softly and holds the

he has done

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