Chapter 111


    #Chapter 111 – The Return of John Walsh


    “Evelyn,” my father says, his face cold as he embraces me with one arm and ces a stiff kiss on my


    cheek. “Happy holidays.”


    He doesn’t look at me, but instead around at my party with distaste. Bridgette’s formal party, indoors, is


    more his style.


    “Evelyn, did you do all of this?” My mother says, wrapping me in a warm hug andughing as she looks


    around. “Darling, it looks wonderful –“


    “That’s enough.” My father snaps. My mother cringes a little, like a scolded dog. It breaks my heart to


    see her this way.


    “I’m d you like it, mom. Come on, let’s get you a drink.” I put an arm around her shoulder and lead


    her away.


    “He’s just under a lot of pressure, Evelyn,” my mom says softly, looking back over at my father as we


    cross to the bar. “You shouldn’t take him seriously when he –“


    “Treats you like crap?” I interrupt, sick with disgust. “You deserve so much better than this, mom,” I say,


    lifting a ss of red wine off of a waiting tray. “You shouldn’t have to put up with that.”


    “It’s so much moreplicated than that, my dear,” my mother says, putting a hand on my cheek


    before epting the ss. “You’ll see, when you’re made Luna.”


    I blush and shake my head. “No, mom,” I say, looking around. “You misunderstand, this is just a favor


    –“


    “This is –“ my mother says, halting me with a gentle hand on my wrist. “The life we raised you to. And


    Victor is precisely the husband I’d have chosen for you, if I’d had my way.”


    I shake my head, looking at the ground. “Please, mom,” I say, suddenly exhausted. “It’s…so much


    moreplicated than that.”


    “Which is precisely how I feel,” she says to me, gently. I look up to meet her eyes, understanding. My


    father is a jerk, but she’s right – it’s not so ck and white.


    I take a ss of champagne off of the tray and clink it against hers, acknowledging that she has a


    point. “Tell me everything,” I say, wrapping my arm around her waist. “How is home? How is Emma?”


    The party continues long into the night, Victor keeping a close eye on Bridgette’s party, on his brother,


    and, indeed, on John Walsh.


    His eyes keep returning, though, to Evelyn, as she flits around the party, chatting with guests and


    making sure everything is running smooth. Her upbringing as an Alpha’s prized daughter is evident


    here, as she is almost instinctually attuned to the needs of her party. She manages the staff with ease,


    intuits the shifting mood of the guests and responds to it with small changes. She has a word and a


    smile for everyone.


    Victor shakes his head slowly as he watches her, marveling. Truly, he had thought Amelia an expert at


    this kind of work, but Amelia’s efforts were studied, learned, calcted. Whereas Amelia’s false smile


    would fall away the moment she turned away from one of her guests, Evelyn’s gracious characteristics


    spring from a very real ce within her.


    “It seems,” his father says, rolling up in his chair next to him and following Victor’s gaze. “That you have


    a victory on your hands.”


    Victor nces inside the house at Bridgette’s party, which is…well, there are still people there, but


    those left behind seem to be eyeing the front door, looking forward to heading home. It seems that the


    majority of the guests have migrated out to the pool area for the big midnight moment.


    “Bridgette ran out of canapes,” Henry murmurs, disappointed. “And the champagne was not cold. Your


    little woman, though,” he says, looking Evelyn up and down, “has held up nicely under pressure.”


    Victor nods, confirming. His pleasure at the victory, though, is short-lived, as John Walshes up the


    porch steps and approaches the two Kensington men. “Victor, Henry,” he says, nodding to each. “A


    lovely if…unique evening, if we’ve ever had one.” He looks directly at Henry now. “Thank you, in


    particr, for your invitation, Henry. We were pleased to have the opportunity toe survey the


    Kensington holdings.”


    John gives Victor a smirk here and Victor feels his hackles rise. Walsh was looking over the Kensington


    home as if it would soon his.


    “It was a pleasant Evening,” Victor says, his face stony. “Too bad it’sing to a close for you so


    soon.”


    “Not until I get a word, I hope,” Walsh says.


    Clenching his teeth and ncing at the clock – it’s very nearly midnight – Victor nods and leads Walsh


    away from his father, unwilling to let Henry overhear this conversation.


    “So it seems,” Walsh says, taking a ss of champagne off a passing try as he and Victor wander to a


    quiet spot on the far side of the pool. “That a piece of my property went missing about a month ago.”


    Victor says nothing, cing his hands in his pockets and stopping to stare at this man. Walsh smirks at


    him, taking a sip of champagne. “A very valuable piece of property, lifted straight from her room. You


    wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you? Especially considering that that piece of


    property is now here,” His eyes slide to Evelyn. “Throwing an borate party.”


    “She is not your property,” Victor growls.


    “But she is my daughter,” Walsh snaps, ring at Victor. “She is a high-ranking member of my pack,


    under my protection and care. And yet she is here, acting as your Luna, though – as far as I’m aware –


    you are neither mated nor engaged.”


    Walsh takes a step forward, bringing his face close to Victor’s, deliberately baiting him. “Shall I send


    you a bill, then, for her services?”


    Victor’s lips start to peel back from his teeth at the implication.


    “Party nning fees,” Walsh says, smiling at the derision. “Unless there are…other fees which I should


    levy against you? Because, my boy, if you decide to use my daughter as a surrogate again, I promise,


    this time, it will not be free.”


    Walsh stands back, sipping his wine, enjoying the rage that builds on Victor’s face with each of his


    words.


    “I’ve already yed this game,” Victor says to Walsh, taking an aggressive step forward towards


    Walsh. Victor can see that Walsh is surprised by this. Indeed, Walsh has always had the upper hand in


    these situations, and Victor has always risen to take his bait.


    But not anymore.


    “I already yed this game with Wird,” Victor growls. “I’ve trieding to terms, Alpha-to-Alpha, in


    order to exchange Evelyn, to bring her under my power. I gambled away half my Beta force, and lost


    them, in the process.”


    Walsh grins, knowing all about it. But Victor takes another step forward, standing almost chest-to-chest


    with him, forcing Walsh to step back. Walsh’s grin falters.


    “You bait me tonight, Walsh. I’m not falling for it. You seek to demean your daughter, whom you know I


    respect and value, to get me to agree to some ridiculous demand in order to get her out from under


    your thumb.”


    Victor continues to advance and Walsh takes another step back.


    “You will demand more of me – control of my pack, of my children, of my forces – in order to get what I


    already have,” Victor says, each word carrying a darker threat than thest.


    “Because the fact is, Walsh,” Victor whispers, taking onest step forward, lowering over Walsh. “That


    you hold nothing over me. What do you have, a few pieces of paper, iming her as part of your pack?


    Bring them forward, Walsh. I dare you.”


    Victor’s canines start to elongate and Walsh snarls back, but Victor grabs him by the throat just as the


    crowd begins to count down to midnight.


    “Bring your paperwork forward,” Victor spits the words at Walsh, murder in his eyes. “And I will shred it


    before you. She is mine, Walsh, the boys are mine. Your pack? It’s mine.” Hisst two words are a


    vicious whisper.


    As the crowd shouts “Happy New Year!” and the DJ begins to y auldng syne, Victor shoves Walsh


    roughly away from him.


    “I’ming for you, Walsh,” Victor says, his canines shrinking back, his equanimity returning. “Mark my


    word, I’m going to take everything you have.”


    With that, Victor turns his back on Walsh to see Evelyn standing ten feet away, her face white, watching


    them. He straightens his tie and calmly walks over to her, offering his arm.


    “Your father was just leaving,” he says, his voice calm. “Though I don’t think you’ll need to say


    goodbye. Shall we return to the party? It’s the big moment, after all.”


    This text is property of N?/velD/rama.Org.


    “Y…yes…” she says, hesitating, sending a nce back towards her father, who snarls with ruffled


    pride. But then she blinks twice and looks up into Victor’s face, taking his arm and giving him a smile.


    “Yes. Thank you, let’s return to our guests.”


    With that, they turn away from Walsh, leaving him alone in the darkness.