Chapter 9

"Go to hell, Tristan. Stop hitting on my friends, they're not interested in you," Tessa Rowan scolds her brother. She shoves him and he laughs as he walks away down the road.

"Tessa Rowan: I feel sorry for him. He's a scoundrel, so stay away from him unless you want another baby," Tessa Rowan says, laughing and shaking her head.

"I'll make a note of that," I say, and she gives us a quick hug. She seems eager to get started, but her idea of"work clothes"is shorts and a cropped shirt that shows her belly button. At least she's put her hair up in a bun.

"I borrowed my brother's boots," Tessa Rowan says, showing us her feet." He's a handyman," she explains, as we both look at her, surprised by the tool belt around her waist." Well, that's it, right?" "Damn, this place is a dump," Tessa Rowan says as we stand in the parking lot looking toward the building. The structure is in good condition, but she's right, it's a dump.

"Well, girls, do you want to help me clean up this mess?" Maura Bellamy says from behind us, making us jump.

"Damn, you scared me! —This... ah... has potential —Tessa Rowan says nervously."

"For a garbage dump?" Maura Bellamy asks, pursing her lips.

"I didn't want to..." Tessa Rowan began, but Maura Bellamy gestured for her to leave.

"It's a garbage dump. I may be getting old, daughter, but I'm not blind yet; I'm almost certain that if any of you jumped into that pool, you'd never get out. The water's probably nuclear. Maybe it's that nauseating smell," she says thoughtfully, before shrugging.

"So, everyone's okay with the position? I'll pay on time, and whatever this place needs, just tell me and I'll order it. But there's a catch," she adds. They both nod.

"What's the catch?" she asks.

"We're completely on our own. I haven't had a single electrician, handyman, or even plumber in over ten years. My friend messed everything up, so if you've any friends who know about these things, let me know. If not, we'll figure it out for ourselves," Maura Bellamy tells them.

It's going to be difficult to find help, especially an electrician, because I don't want to get electrocuted.

"Handyman: my brother. That's where I got my tool belt and tools. Electrician: no idea," Tessa Rowan says, shrugging.

"Maybe I can help you," Nadia Mercer says, and we all turn to her. She looks embarrassed, almost ashamed." My daughter's father is an electrician. He's a real jerk now because he's found a partner and doesn't want her to find out he's a daughter. So I'm going to threaten him with telling her: either he helps me when I ask, or he finds someone else to. He'll probably find someone else, but I know he'll do it," Nadia Mercer says confidently.

"I already love you; tell him, darling," says Maura Bellamy.

"There's still the plumbing, which I suppose we'll sort out," I tell them all, and they all nod their heads.

"So, what do you want to do first?"

"First we'll make the girls' room habitable, and then we'll go to the others, one by one. We'll make a list of everything as we go," says Maura Bellamy.

We all agree. We head to the room and Maura Bellamy takes the girls to her study so we can concentrate on the work that needs to be done.

We piled up everything we had kept in the bathroom before throwing all the old balcony furniture into the dumpster Maura Bellamy had prepared for the renovations. Once that was done, we got out the cleaning supplies. Armed and ready, we started tearing up the carpet.

"Hey, Maura," Tessa Rowan says from the balcony." Maura Bellamy must have answered, because she's speaking again." Do all these rooms have parquet floors under the carpet? I was expecting concrete.""

"Yes, why?"

I look at the exposed parquet floorboards, all in perfect condition: they just need a good cleaning and polishing.

"Because I don't think we should put the carpet back down. The floors are in good condition in this room. If the others are the same, you'll save a fortune sanding and staining them, and if they're like this room, they'll just need waxing."

"Of course, we'll check the others later and see which rooms can be salvaged."

We finished removing the smelly carpet and threw it in the dumpster. Together we carried the beds and mattresses to the truck and spent the rest of the day cleaning the room from top to bottom. Maura Bellamy brought us drinks and sandwiches at lunchtime. She worked so hard to feed us throughout the day that, by the end, we were all stuffed and collapsed on the sofa in her studio.

"So, how many rooms are there?"

I realize I don't know either. I haven't even explored the entire building, and Maura Bellamy told me there are more rooms in the back, as well as a reception hall. I'm feeling nervous; it took us a whole day to clean and repair just one double room!

"Good question," she says to herself as if she doesn't remember." Twenty-three rooms, eight units of four rooms each, plus a restaurant and a reception hall. There's also a garden in the back. The truth is, I haven't been there for at least three or four years, so God only knows what you'll find; it's a jungle. Then there's the pool, the laundry, the games room, the games center downstairs, and a bar."

"Oh, this is going to kill us," she says, wiping some foundation out of her hair. She looks at her phone and sighs.

"Oh, this is going to kill us —Tessa Rowan says as she wipes some foundation out of her hair—. She looks at her phone and sighs—. The sun has been deadly today."

"My brother is here to pick me up; I'll see you both tomorrow. How about we start early? The sun has been deadly today."

"Is seven in the morning too early? —asks Maura Bellamy, and Tessa Rowan shakes his head."

"No, perfect, see you tomorrow," says Tessa Rowan as she leaves and waves goodbye.

"Goodbye."

Despite our victory today, I can't help but feel overwhelmed. It's an impossible task; there are so many things to do... But I have to remember to go room by room. Otherwise, it will be completely overwhelming.

It's no wonder Maura Bellamy can't do it alone. It's too much for twenty people, and there are only four of us plus two babies. Sigh.

Suddenly, Maura Bellamy grabs the TV remote from the coffee table and turns up the volume. It's still playing the evening news, but I immediately notice what has caught her attention: Alpha Ronan Blackthorn is back on the news.

They play a video, and my heart sinks when I recognize the person he seems to be arguing with: it's my father! They're shouting at each other in a club, and my father lunges at him. His punch narrowly misses as Alpha Ronan Blackthorn steps aside, mocking him. Suddenly, my father moves, and the recording stops. The news anchor says he can't continue playing the video because some viewers might find it disturbing. The news report then continues with the long-standing rivalry between my father and the Alpha of Blood of the Northern Reach.

Maura Bellamy looks at me nervously.

"Nadia Mercer: 'When are they going to get over it? Every week, one of them is in the news and, honestly, I don't care who Alpha of Blood of the Northern Reach dates or what territory he shits in,' Nadia Mercer says, shaking her head."

"It's not the image I wanted to have in my head," I reply, laughing.

"I've been going there for years; maybe one day they'll both mature before they lose everything forever," Maura Bellamy says, and I nod sadly. Nadia Mercer, completely unaware of my connection to the two alphas, sighs.

It's no wonder the city is doomed with those idiots in charge.

"I couldn't have put it better myself," Maura Bellamy says, nodding her head in approval.

RONAN'S POV

Two months later

Your hands scratch my clothes as we stumble around my room. Your fingers play with my buttons, and your lips lick and suck my neck like a leech. Why does all women's touch repel me? I watch her pull her dress over her head, and before I can push her, I make her knees hit the back of the bed. She falls backward, and I have to fight the urge to laugh as she flails her arms. Yes, it was very sexy.

I take off my pants, climb onto the bed, and rip off your panties. You scream when the lace pokes you, but I don't care. I need to release my anger; Alpha Gideon Whitcombe has put me in a bad mood again tonight. But even as I spread your legs and climb between them, I already regret bringing this bimbo home. I don't want you to touch me, but you do. You mutilate every square inch of me, wrapping your body around mine like pulp and trying to suck my face like a leech. Ugh, let's get this over with.

I look at my penis, curse under my breath, and beg the damn thing to work. This is getting embarrassing. They're going to start calling me the flabby alpha jerk. Shit, why am I having this problem? In all my years, I've never had erectile dysfunction. Did I break it? What's happening to me lately? The first time, I thought maybe I was too drunk, but it's been two months, and I still can't get it up.

"Honey, what's wrong with you?" complains the blonde I picked up at the club. I feel like telling her she's the one who's all over me and touching me with her dirty hands, but that's wrong. These damn whores are always on top of me, and yet lately I'm not interested in women at all. They don't do anything for me anymore.

Damn it, please don't tell me I'm going to mate with a man. It must be too late to suddenly switch sides. I mentally curse my broken penis, but his moans are starting to annoy me." Will you shut up? Better yet, get lost!"