Chapter 18
Chapter 18
#Chapter 18 – Meet the Stepmom
Amelia uses her shoulder to push open the front door, wheeling her carry-on suitcase behind her and pressing her phone to her ear. “The Balenciaga,” she says. “Yeah, listen, I’ve got to go.”
She tosses the phone aside, running the last few steps across the room to where Victor is standing, jumping up into his arms and wrapping her legs around his waist.
Victor had intended to be stern, to break the news to her as soon as he could, but…almost involuntarily, he wraps his arms around her, burying his face into the space between her neck and shoulder. He growls softly.
“I missed you, baby,” Amelia says, taking his face in her hands and kissing him softly, licking the tip of his nose and laughing. “Did you miss me?”
Victor cups her ass with one hand and presses her tightly against him with the other. She laughs and wiggles, whispering “Do we have time? Before the party at the Club?”
At this, Victor takes a step back and wraps his hand around her wrist. “We’re not going to the party.” Victor turns and heads into the kitchen, where a glass of whiskey and another of rose are waiting.
“What?” Amelia asks, shocked and a little breathless, following him into the kitchen.
“We’re not going to the party,” he says, lifting the whiskey to his lips and taking a sip. “We have to talk.” Contentt bel0ngs to N0ve/lDrâ/ma.O(r)g!
Amelia looks him up and down, her attitude shifting from excitement to defense. She watches him, alert, looking for any change in his movement. What is he up to?
Victor gestures towards the glass of pink wine. “You’re going to need it.”
Amelia moves forward and takes the glass. As he talks, she begins to sip.
Victor tells her everything. The surprise at seeing the boys at the quiz show – she was there too, for a moment, does she remember them? Then seeing Evelyn again, their fight, his demands. Amelia finishes the first glass of wine. She pours another.
He continues, telling about the boys coming to stay for the night, Evelyn coming over to help. About being pushed into the pool, breakfast in the morning, Evelyn leaving with two crying boys in tow…
As he finishes, Amelia watches Victor’s face, feeling her hackles start to rise, an instinctive desire to bare her teeth. She shuts these instincts down, though, refusing to let them show.
“I’m going to keep them, Amelia,” Victor concludes, his hand on his glass, watching her carefully. “I’m going to recognize them as my sons, as is my right. If you don’t…well, if this means you want to cancel our mating ceremony…I will accept that.”
At this, Amelia drains her second glass of wine and studies the frosted glass that she holds between her fingers. After a long pause she says, “So. If she says no, you’re going to turn heaven and earth to get those boys.”
He nods.
“But if I say no,” she continues, just as slowly. “You’re going to let me walk away.”
Again, he nods. “So, no matter what anyone else wants, you’re keeping the boys in your life. Even if it means losing me.”
Victor sighs and hangs his head, pressing two fingers to the bridge of his nose. But he doesn’t deny it.
Amelia takes a moment to watch him and then she nods. She turns slowly on the ball of her perfectly manicured food and smashes her glass to the kitchen floor. Victor listens to her as she leaves the room
and makes her way up the curving staircase to the second floor, where so recently he played with his boys, his sons.
When she reaches the top of the stairs, Victor hears Amelia let out a low scream of rage – a primal thing, a warning to anything that can hear it to stay the f**k out of her path. Rather than scaring him, though Victor rises to this sound, feeling himself drawn to her despite her rage and his guilt.
That woman is his Luna, his match. But god, how were they going to survive this.
Two days later, Amelia stands by the front door in a purple sundress and a hat with a wide straw brim, a fake smile pasted on her face, All to impress two six-year-old boys.
Victor is standing at the bottom of the drive, helping the boys climb from the town car that picked them up from their mother’s house. Amelia is struck by the sight of them, town between her emotions. Her first instinct is to snarl at these boys, who have come with their sticky hands to destroy her life.
Her second, though, is…shock. Surprise at how much they look like Victor, mimic him in the way that they smile, they laugh they move. The part of her that loves Victor moves towards these boys, wanting to know them.
But her first instinct – the larger one – keeps her in check. These pups – bastards, whether or not Victor acknowledges it – are going to have no effect on her life. She can fake it, for awhile – pretend she doesn’t mind, even likes them – but when she officially becomes Luna? They’re off to boarding school, or even as wards to another pack.
“They’ll never threaten your position,” Victor had promised her that night, “And Evelyn will fall in line.” She’s already threatening my position, Amelia had thought, but she hadn’t said a word of it.
“Bring them over, let me meet them,” Amelia had said, after hours of fighting. “After all, if they’re going to be yours, then they will be mine too.” At that, she had beamed up into Victor’s face and let him
believe she meant it.
Now, two days later, here were the boys, running up her driveway.
“Alvin! Ian! Let me guess who is who,” Amela says, bending down and giving them her best smile.
“I’m Ian!” says the first, waving and showing her a missing tooth with his big smile.
“I’m Alvin!” says the next, struggling up the drive with a big bag full of who-knows-what.
“Great!” Amelia says. “Come on in-“ but they bust past her, as if the house was theirs already. She clenches her teeth behind her smile.
Victor comes up and puts a hand on her shoulder, staring at something on his phone. I have to go into the office,” he says.
“What!?” her body goes rigid, horrified.
“For a couple of hours,” Victor says, already looking into the house and planning his exit. “A border disturbance – nothing big – but they need me.”
“Victor, you can’t leave me with-“
“It must be done, Amelia,” he looks at her fiercely for a moment and then walks into the house, his decision made. Amelia follows him in slowly, a little panicked.
Amelia feels something tug on your skirt. She looks down to see a twin; she doesn’t know which one.
“Do you have any snacks?”
Two hours later, the kitchen is a mess. The cook had gone a little overboard buying materials for an ice cream sundae bar. Now, Amelia was pretty sure that every single ingredient was spread, smeared, or
sprinkled all over her granite counter tops.
Whatever, she thought, cook’s mess to clean up, not mine.
She watches the boys from across the kitchen island, sipping an iced tea. She had to admit, they were very handsome boys, clearly clever. If she had sons, she’d want them to have the same qualities.
Unfortunately, she didn’t want sons. At least, not anytime soon.
Amelia knows two things in this world: that she loves Victor, and that is going to live a good life.
When her mating bond snapped into place with Victor, Amelia wasn’t surprised for a moment. She had always known that she was destined for a mate like him. There were twists and turns, of course, but Amelia was still dedicated. She loved him and more importantly, she can sway Victor to get what she wants.
Just don’t tell Victor that.
“We have missed daddy these past few days,” Ian said, pouring chocolate syrup directly into his hands and interrupting Amelia’s thoughts. “He has been so busy.”
“He’s a busy guy,” Amelia says absently, pulling out her phone.
“We know he is busy,” Alvin says, fishing a red cherry from the bottom of the jar. “But he is not too busy for mama, thank goodness.”
Amelia pauses at that. “What do you mean? Has he seen her?”
“No,” Ian says, “but they talk on the phone for hours.” He rolls his eyes “It is so boring.”
Amelia leans forward. “What are you talking about, they don’t talk on the phone. He’s been busy with work.”
“Okay!” Ian says, laughing, his eyes sparking. “You’re probably right. You know better.”
“Hey,” Alvin says, hopping down from the counter and coming close to her. Amelia flinches away from him, not eager to get caramel sauce all over herself. “Daddy says when he gets married, we will be in the wedding! Do you think that is true?”
“Um, probably,” Amelia says, considering. Right now, she can’t think of a way to keep them out.
“I will like that!” says Ian. “The only problem is, we don’t know what color to wear.”
“Huh?” asks Amelia.
“Well, daddy says the groomsmen wear colors to match the bride. We just don’t know if we should wear blue suits, to match your eyes,”
Amelia preens a little, pleased that he’s noticed.
“Or brown, to match mama’s.”
At this, a snarl tears from Amelia’s lips – “Why you little –“
But then, Victor walks in the door, a pizza in his hands. “Daddy!” shouts one, and “Papa!” the other. The boys rush to their dad, who blocks them with the pizza. “Whoa, whoa! You guys are covered in syrup – did you have too much fun with Amelia?”
“Yes, Amelia is so great!”
“We just love Amelia!”
Victor beams at his boys. “Amazing.” Victor comes into the kitchen. “Thank you, Amelia,” he says, giving her a kiss. “This means everything to me.”
Amelia grinds out a smile. “Anything for you, my love.”