Chapter 50


    #Chapter 50 – Fight


    N?velDrama.Org: text ? owner.


    “Vic-“ Amelia sputters out half of his name as Victor strides into the bedroom, grabs her by the arm,


    and ms her against the wall.


    “What did you do, Amelia,” he yells, his voice thick with wrath.


    “Victor – I – “ Amelias eyes scan frantically over Victor’s face, his body, sensing – correctly – that he’s


    outside of his head in this moment, fueled only by rage, seeking revenge for whatever it is she did.


    The only question is, Amelia thinks quickly to herself, how much does he know?


    Amelia gasps as Victor takes her by the shoulders, pressing her further against the wall, bringing his


    face inches from hers, a snarl on his lips and in his teeth. “Tell me, Amelia,” he growls. “What did you


    do.”


    “Get off of me, Victor,” Amelia says, getting over her shock and grounding herself in her own strong will.


    “Take your hands off of me and back away.”


    Amelia’s clear, calm voice brings Victor back to himself in that moment. He blinks and then loosens his


    grip on her shoulders, taking a step away. Amelia holds his gaze, meeting his anger with her own. She


    knows that his outstrips hers by any measure – but still, she won’t be treated like an Omega in her own


    home.


    “Now that you’re calmer, Victor,” she says, pushing away from the wall and standing straight, “why don’t


    you tell me what the hell you’re talking about?”


    “John Walsh,” Victor says, his shoulders still hunched and his hackles raised, “called me to his home


    today for a meeting.”


    Amelia crosses her arms across her body, ying dumb. “And?”


    Victor yells his rage, turning and swiping his arm at the beauty products that line Amelia’s vanity. They


    fly across the room, some shattering against the opposite wall. “Don’t pretend with me, Amelia! I know


    what you did!”


    “Fine!” she shouts, seeing that her trick won’t work. “So I told him! What, doesn’t he have a right to


    know? They’re his grandchildren, Victor! His family! You were so mad at Evelyn for keeping your family


    away from you, but here you are! Doing the exact same thing!”


    Victor stalks two steps closer to her, but she holds up a finger between them, stopping him in his


    tracks. Victor looks at her finger and then up at her. “He told me he intends to im them, Amelia, as


    his heirs. To take them from me.”


    Amelia’s eyebrows raise at this – Victor can tell by her surprise that, apparently, this wasn’t part of her


    n. But her face settles into calm lines after a moment suggesting, perhaps, that she doesn’t think it’s


    so bad.


    “What?” Vicor hisses. “You’re okay with that?!”


    “Welle on, Victor!” Amelia says, shrugging as she thinks about it. “Isn’t it kind of the perfect


    solution?”


    “WHAT!”


    “Can you just listen to me, Victor? For f**k’s sake. I can’t get a word in if you keep shouting ‘what’ every


    ten seconds!”


    Victor seethes but stays silent.


    “Victor, isn’t this maybe the best of both worlds?” Amelia looks at Victor here with soft eyes, taking a


    hesitant step forward. “You know that those boys came into our lives and turned all of our ns upside


    down. And, you now that I’m…concerned.”


    “What?” Victor’s question here is less full of rage and more of actual confusion. Amelia presses


    forward.


    “Well, it’s just that…if you dere your boys as your sons and heirs…that means that my boys –


    whenever I have them – they’ll miss out on that privilege.” She looks down at her hands, twisting her


    fingers together.


    Victor stares at her, some of the anger leeching from his body. He hadn’t considered this angle before,


    hadn’t thought about how it would affect Amelia’s children. For him, of course, any children he had with


    Amelia would be third in line and beyond. But for Amelia, her sons would be her first-born sons.


    “And part of our starting family was about lineage,” Amelia says, speaking softly. “I always knew my


    children would be safe, would inherit power, would have a ce in the world…”


    “Amelia, they still will,” Victor says quietly.


    Amelia snaps her head up to re at him. “There is a difference, Victor, between being the first and the


    third son. A great difference, in terms of what your life was like. When we nned our lives, our future


    family, I had no reason to think that my son wouldn’t be your heir. Now, everything is different.”


    “The solution,” Victor growls, his anger returning, “was not to go and consult John Walsh.”


    “It could work, Victor,” Amelia says, ignoring him and taking another step forward, bringing her body


    close. “Alvin and Ian could have the best of both worlds. They’d still be your sons, you’d still be close to


    them – have a role in their life – but they would be the heir to the Walsh pack, with all the wealth and


    privilege that entails” she says, cing a hand on Victor’s arm, looking up into his eyes.


    “And,” she continues. “That would leave my sons free to inherit your pack. Like you promised.” Herst


    words are a whisper.


    For a moment, Victor looks down at his mate, taking in the sadness on her face, her longshes, her


    beautiful, plump lips…


    With a snarl, Victor rips his arm from her hand and steps away. “They are my sons, Amelia. My rightful


    heirs, and I will have it no other way. You have betrayed me.” He fixes her with a withering re and


    then stalks out of the room.


    Amelia wraps her arms around herself and watches him go. It wasn’t as bad, she thinks, as it could


    have been…Perhaps I’ve made a little headway with some of my ideas. With a smirk, she kneels to the


    ground and starts to clean up the bottles and brushes that Victor knocked to the floor.


    The phone rings twice before it is answered. “Kensington?” Wellingtons’ voice on the other end is


    confused.


    “Wellington, apologies for the surprise call, and to be contacting you sote,” Victor says, pacing


    around his office.


    “Not to worry, my boy” Wellington says, intrigued. “What can I do for you?”


    “I want to add to my request,” Victor says, pacing along the length of his office, still running on the rage


    from the rest of the day.


    “Add to it?” Wird says, surprised. “What do you mean??”


    “I want to add Evelyn Walsh to the deal. I want to transfer her from your pack to mine, for her own


    safety.”


    “Evelyn…” Wird says, interested, considering. “She’s…a considerable asset. I took quite a bet on


    her, adding a Rogue to my pack, a single mother, while she was in graduate school training to be a


    therapist, of all unprofitable things. But I admit, she turned out to be a bit of a feather in my cap.”


    “Well, I would appreciate it,” Victor says, his words clipped.


    “I admit I was curious before,” his voice slow and luxurious, “knowing she was living on your property,


    but admit I’m very interested now. What is your connection with this woman, my Rogue?”


    Victor grits his teeth at the possessive. “She is important to me,” he growls.


    Wirdughs. “I’m afraid I’m going to require an answer, Victor. If you’d like my consent.”


    Victor considers his options and then a sigh hisses from between his teeth.


    “Her children,” Victor says, his teeth clenched. “Her two sons, twins. They’re mine.”


    There’s a momentary silence on the other line and then a huff of surprise, understanding. “Well,” says


    Wellington. “That does change things for you, doesn’t it.”


    “Yes,” Victor growls, “it does. I want their mother transferred into my custody, as part of my pack.


    Immediately.”


    “Why, though?” Wellington is genuinely confused. “To have the boys transferred to your pack is a


    simple thing – just acknowledge them as your sons – your bastard sons, even – as an Alpha, your


    rights of paternity transcend hers –“


    “I n to acknowledge them, immediately,” says Victor, continuing to pace.


    “Then what…is the issue here?” Wellington says, his voice starting to sound smug.


    “Evelyn.” Victor says. “I want Evelyn.”


    “Well,” Wellington chuckles. “I can’t say I don’t understand. She’s a bright young thing, a beautiful


    woman –“


    “Wellington,” Victor warns. “Don’t cross a line here. She is my sons’ mother. I seek to bring her under


    my protection. It’s as simple as that.”


    Wellington hums his understanding and Victor can feel his joy. Wellington knows he’s got a prize


    canary here, and that Victor will do anything to get it. “Well, my dear – transferring a Rogue wolf, who


    has already been transferred to me – it’s a moreplicated process. The binding ceremony, the


    documentation…”


    “And?” Victor pushes Wellington to his point.


    “And, so, it’s going to cost you. It’s a great inconvenience for me, to lose such a valuable member of


    my pack, to go through so much trouble.”


    “How much, Wellington.”


    “Twenty million,” Wellington says, his voice firm, smug. “And, I want the credit for the school that you’re


    starting. You foot the bill, but you publicly announce that I’m the brains behind the operation, and that I


    will be acting Head Master.”


    Victor pulls the phone away from his face, pressing the mute button as fast as he can so that he can


    hide the roar that pulls from his chest. This man – the audacity – such an insane price. Victor raises the


    phone back to his ear, breathing hard.


    “Victor? Are you there?” Wellington asks pleasantly, knowing he has Victor cornered. “This is a short-


    time offer. It ends the moment we hang up this call.”


    Victor flicks off the mute button. “Yes.” He growls. “We have a deal. Evelyn Walsh, in exchange for all


    you’ve asked for. To be executed as soon as possible.”


    “Pleasure doing business with you,” Wellington murmurs, and hangs up the phone.