Chapter 29 #2
“It’s not,” I say flatly. “It’s harassment.”
“Harassment?” Carol’s voice goes up an octave. “I am protecting the integrity of this neighborhood—”
“By targeting a single omega who had the audacity to stand up to you?” Rhys asks, his voice deceptively mild. “Yeah, that’s definitely about neighborhood integrity and not at all about you being a vindictive—”
“Rhys,” Mia says quietly.
He stops, but his eyes stay locked on Carol with an intensity that makes her take a half-step back.
“Look,” Fred says, and he really does sound tired. “I don’t care about the HOA drama. But I do care about lease compliance. If there are four additional people living here full-time, that’s a violation. Fire code, insurance liability, all that. I need to verify the situation.”
“We’re not living here full-time,” Declan says. “We’re visiting our girlfriend.”
Mia goes dead still.
Her scent flares and it’s sweet strawberries and sharp, sudden arousal that hits the back of my throat like molten sugar. She presses back against his chest, her body going tight, like the label unlocked something in her.
She likes it. She likes it so much it’s making her knees shake.
My alpha roars so loud I almost pump my fist in the air.
Carol narrows her eyes. “The lights have not been on at your place. I know you aren’t sleeping at 126.”
“Four nights,” Eli says again. “And even if we were here for the full fourteen-day guest allowance, ‘visiting’ and ‘residing’ are legally distinct terms. We maintain separate primary residences. We pay taxes at 126. We receive mail there. We’re guests.”
I can see Fred processing this, and then he shrugs, apparently ready to end this by going back to whatever he was doing before Carol dragged him here at 8 AM.
But Carol isn’t interested in logic. “This is absurd. Everyone in the neighborhood can see what’s happening here. They’re clearly living here. The moral implications alone—”
“The what now?” I interrupt.
“A single omega cohabitating with an unbonded pack,” Carol says, her voice dripping with judgment. “This is Sweetwater Pines. It’s inappropriate. It’s disruptive to the family-friendly atmosphere we’ve cultivated—”
“Okay, we’re done here,” Mia says, and there’s steel in her voice now.
The same steel that shut Carol down in the driveway when she tried to label us a nuisance.
“You don’t get to police my relationships.
You don’t get to decide what’s ‘appropriate’ for my life.
And you sure as hell don’t get to show up at my door at the crack of dawn to shame me for who I’m sleeping with. ”
“I’m not shaming—” Carol sputters.
“You absolutely are,” Mia cuts her off. “This isn’t about lease violations or fire codes. This is about you being uncomfortable with how I choose to live my life. And I’m done pretending otherwise.”
Fuck, I love her.
Fred clears his throat again. “Look, Ms. Matthews, I don’t want to make this difficult. But Ms. Beechman has made a formal complaint. I have to follow up. If you could just let me verify that your guests aren’t actually living here—”
“How exactly would you verify that?” Eli asks. “Count toothbrushes? Measure closet space? Review our credit card statements to prove where we actually spend our money?”
“I…I don’t know,” he admits. “But I need to do something, or the HOA will claim I’m not fulfilling my management duties.”
“The HOA,” I say slowly, an idea forming, “or just Carol?”
Fred’s silence is telling.
“How many other complaints have you received about this property?” Eli presses.
“I…none. Just Ms. Beechman’s.”
“And how many other properties in this neighborhood have you had to investigate for ‘unauthorized guests’?”
“None.”
“So this is a targeted complaint from one individual who has a personal vendetta against Mia,” Eli summarizes. “Not a pattern of behavior, not a neighborhood concern, just one person abusing HOA regulations to harass someone she doesn’t like.”
Fred’s shoulders slump. “Look, I know how this looks. But I still have to—”
“Actually,” I interrupt, my brain finally catching up to the solution that’s been hovering at the edge of my consciousness since we got out of bed. “You don’t.”
Everyone looks at me.
“You don’t have to do anything,” I continue, pulling out my phone. “Because Mia doesn’t live here anymore.”
Mia’s head whips toward me. “What?”
“Knox—” Eli starts.
I ignore them both, already pulling up Mia’s lease on my phone. The copy Eli sent to our group chat loads and I scroll to Section 8.3.
“Early termination clause,” I say, reading quickly.
“Tenant may terminate lease with sixty days notice and payment of two months’ rent as penalty.
Or—” I read the next part twice to make sure I’m understanding it correctly.
“Or immediately upon payment of two months’ rent plus current month’s rent prorated to date of vacating. ”
“Knox, what are you doing?” Mia asks, but I can hear the uncertainty in her voice. The stress.
“What’s two months’ rent on this place?” I ask Fred directly.
He blinks. “I…thirty-six hundred dollars. But—”
“And prorated for nine days?”
“Maybe…four hundred?”
“Four thousand even.” I’m already opening my banking app.
Fred pulls out his own phone, tapping quickly to verify the ledger. “Actually, with the administrative early-termination fee and the cleaning surcharge, it’s four thousand one hundred and…”
“Sending forty-five hundred,” I interrupt. “Keep the change. What’s your email, Fred?”
“My…what?”
“Your email. For the transfer.”
“You can’t just—” Carol starts.
“Watch me,” I say flatly, my eyes still on Fred. “Your email. Now. Or I’ll send it to the management company’s general account and you can sort it out with accounting.”
“Knox!” Mia’s voice is louder now. “Stop! You can’t just cancel my lease!”
“I’m not canceling it,” I say, still tapping through my banking app. “You are. I’m just facilitating.”
“I didn’t agree to this!”
“Do you want to stay here?” I ask, finally looking up from my phone to meet her eyes.
“Seriously. Do you want to spend the next year dealing with Carol showing up at your door, filing complaints, making your life miserable because you dared to be happy? Do you want to fight this battle for a house you don’t even own? ”
She opens her mouth. Closes it.
“Or,” I continue, gentler now, “do you want to come live with us? At the fortress?” I nod toward our house.
“We own that place, Mia. Carol can send all the angry letters she wants, but she can’t evict an owner.
She can’t touch us. You can be as loud and happy and thoroughly fucked as you want, and she won’t be able to do a damn thing about it. ”
“That’s crude,” Carol snaps.
“That’s honest,” I counter, not looking away from Mia. “What do you want?”
Mia’s eyes are wide, her scent spiking with about fifteen different emotions at once. “I…you can’t just…this is my home.”
“It’s a rental property where you’re just a tenant they can bully,” Declan says quietly. “Our place is a home. Your home, if you want it.”
“We’re already sleeping in the same bed every night,” Rhys adds. “We don’t need two addresses.”
“So you’re just deciding for me?” Mia asks, her tone dangerously quiet. “You’re canceling my lease without a word?”
“I’m asking now,” I say. “Do you want to stay here and fight Carol? Or do you want to move in with us and never think about beige cars and HOA regulations again?”
She stares at me for a long moment. Then at Carol, who’s watching this entire exchange with barely concealed horror. Then at Fred, who looks like he’s witnessing something he really shouldn’t be.
“This is…crazy,” Mia says finally.
“Probably,” I agree.
“You’re asking me to upend my entire life on the spot.”
“Yep.”
She swallows hard.
I step into her space, forcing her to look up at me. “Do you love us?”
Mia’s breath stops in her throat. “That’s not…we haven’t…you can’t just—”
“You said it last night,” Rhys reminds her gently. “While we were—”
“Oh my god,” Mia cuts him off, her face going bright red. “Not in front of Carol.”
“Especially in front of Carol,” I say. “Answer the question. Do you love us?”
“I…yes,” Mia says, so quietly I almost don’t hear it. “Yes, but—”
“No buts,” I interrupt. “You love us. We love you. We want you living with us. The only question is whether you want to fight for this place—” I gesture at the house. “—or come home with us.”
“You just called your house ‘home,’” she says.
“Yeah.” I nod. “Home.”
Mia looks at Carol again. At the clipboard clutched in her hands, the judgment in her eyes. Then she looks at us. At me, at Declan, at Rhys, at Eli.
“Okay,” she says finally.
“Okay?” I repeat.
“Okay. Do it. Cancel the lease. Let’s go home.”
The relief that floods through me is almost dizzying. I look at Fred. “Email?”
He recites it, still looking shell-shocked.
I transfer the money in about thirty seconds. “Check your email. You’ve got the payment. We’ll have her out by end of day.”
“End of day?” Fred repeats. “But—”
Eli checks his watch. “End of day. Per the lease terms, immediate termination requires vacating the property within twenty-four hours. We’ll have her out in eight. You can schedule your inspection for tomorrow morning, and we’ll leave the keys in the mailbox.”
Carol’s face has gone from smug to confused to something approaching panic. “Wait. You can’t just—she can’t just leave!”
“Actually,” Eli says, gaze levelling with Carol’s, “she can.”
“But…but the complaint!”
“Is moot,” I say cheerfully. “There’s no tenant to violate the lease. No property to inspect. No unauthorized guests because there’s no authorized tenant. You got what you wanted, Carol. She’s leaving.”
“That’s not—I didn’t want—”
“Didn’t you?” Mia asks, and there’s something sharp in her voice now. Something that’s done being nice. “You wanted me gone just because you were pissed at the guys and then pissed at me because I stood up for them. Well, I’m out. Hope you’re happy.”
Carol opens her mouth. Closes it. Opens it again. No sound comes out.
“We’ll have the property vacated,” Eli tells Fred. “Cleaned, keys returned, everything by the book. You can keep the security deposit for your trouble.”
“I don’t…that’s not necessary,” Fred says, but he looks relieved. Like he’s just dodged a massive bullet.
“Consider it our thank you for putting up with Carol’s bullshit,” I say.
“I am standing right here!” Carol snaps.
“We know,” all five of us say in unison.
She sputters. Actually sputters.
“Anything else we can help you with?” Declan asks pleasantly. “Any other complaints you’d like to file about a property that’s no longer occupied?”
Carol looks at each of us in turn, and I can see her trying to figure out if she’s won or lost.
She’s definitely lost.
“This…this isn’t over,” she says finally.
“It really is,” I say. “But feel free to waste more of your time if it makes you happy. We’ll be at our place. You know the address.”
We close the door in her face.
For a moment, nobody moves. We just stand there in the entryway, the five of us, processing what just happened.
Then Mia turns to me. “Did you just spend four thousand dollars to cancel my lease?”
“Yep.”
“In less than five minutes?”
“Technically three minutes. Would’ve been two but the banking app made me verify the transfer twice.”
“Knox, you can’t just—”
“Already did,” I interrupt. “And before you get all independent about it, remember: we already had this argument about the trash cans. This is the same thing. Different scale, same principle.”
Mia stares at me like I’ve lost my mind. “Soap and water is free. This is four thousand dollars.”
“And I made more than that while we were standing at the door.” I shrug. “Passive income from the app. Money’s not the issue. You’re the issue. Specifically, you being stressed and harassed by Carol fucking Beechman when we have a perfectly good house literally next door.”
“You just…cancelled my house,” Mia says, and she sounds dazed. “You cancelled my house because Carol was being mean.”
“I eliminated a problem,” I correct. “There’s a difference.”
“Is there?”
“Yep. One makes me sound impulsive. The other makes me sound smart.”
Eli rubs the bridge of his nose. “You are impulsive.”
I shrug again.
Mia starts laughing. It starts as a giggle, then builds into full-bodied laughter that has her clutching her stomach.
“I just finished unpacking. And you just…ended it. In three minutes.” She’s still laughing, but there are tears in her eyes now.
Happy tears, I think. Hope. “What am I going to do with you?”
“Love us,” Rhys says simply. “Move in with us. Let us take care of you.”
Declan’s face goes serious. “Let us take care of Carol if she shows up again.”
“She won’t,” Eli says. “She hates us, but she can’t touch us. So she went after the lease because it was the only weapon she had. She got her bureaucratic win.”
“Good,” I say. “Let her go terrorize someone who doesn’t have four guys willing to drop everything to protect her.”
Mia looks around at all of us, and I can see the exact moment she stops fighting it. Stops pretending she doesn’t need us just as much as we need her.
“Okay,” she says again, softer this time. “Okay. Let’s do this. Let’s move me home.”
“Home,” Declan repeats, and there’s so much satisfaction in his voice.
“Our home,” Rhys adds.
I grin. “Where Carol Beechman and Julians in beige cars can fuck right off.”
Eli arches an eyebrow. “Eloquent.”
“I have range.” I grin.
Mia wipes the tears from her cheeks, beaming at me with a smile that looks wide and free and unburdened. “I can’t believe you just did that.”
“Believe it,” I say, pulling her against my chest for one hard, possessive squeeze. Then I let her go. “But enjoy the feeling later. Right now, we’re on the clock.”
Eli checks his watch, the sentimental moment instantly replaced by project manager efficiency. “We need to vacate the premises. Declan, start unplugging electronics. Rhys, heavy furniture. Knox, boxes.”
“On it,” Rhys grunts, already eyeing the sofa like an opponent he plans to tackle.
“I’m keeping the coffee maker,” Mia says, grabbing it off the counter like a lifeline.
“Priorities,” Declan approves.
I watch them swarm her space, dismantling her old life to build the new one.
Carol thinks she won. I grin, picking up the nearest box. Joke’s on her.
She just saved us the trouble of asking Mia to move in.