I Was Just A Passerby Carrying His Twin Heirs Chapter 14

I Was Just A Passerby Carrying His Twin Heirs Chapter 14

I slammed the door shut.

BAM.

Silence fell outside.

Then I heard Gavin’s voice drift through the heavy wood, quiet and laced with a cold chuckle.

“You’re going to regret this, Miss Miller.”

His footsteps receded down the hall.

I stood in the entryway, my heart hammering against my ribs.

Not from fear.

From pure annoyance.

I flipped the deadbolt and sank back onto the couch.

The TV was still blaring a commercial for laundry detergent.

I took three deep breaths to clear my head.

Then I grabbed my phone.

I shot Logan a text.

Gavin Vance just showed up at my place. Does your boss know?

A reply popped up in under a minute.

What? He found you? What did he say?

I gave him the abbreviated version.

Logan’s typing indicator flared up violently.

Got it. Informing Grant right now. Keep the door locked and call me immediately if anything happens.

A second text followed immediately.

I’m contacting building management to restrict access. No unapproved visitors.

I texted back a quick ‘Thanks’ and tossed my phone onto the cushion.

To be honest, Gavin’s speech didn’t do a thing to me.

All that crap about “becoming useless once the babies are born” and “losing visitation”?

The next morning, my phone blared, waking me up.

I glanced at the screen-

Grant Vance.

He was calling me directly?

First time for everything.

I picked up, my voice scratchy as sandpaper.

“Hello…?”

Silence on the other end for a beat.

“Did I wake you?”

“Yeah.”

I don’t do fake polite.

“What time is it?”

“Seven AM.”

“…Grant, normal people are asleep at seven AM.”

He ignored my attitude and got straight to the point.

“I know about Gavin yesterday.”

“Mm.”

“He won’t bother you again.”

“How can you guarantee that?”

“I have my ways.”

His tone was completely flat, devoid of any flex, but weirdly convincing.

I rubbed my eyes.

“Fine.”

Then something hit me.

“Grant.”

“Yeah?”

“How did your cousin even get my address? You’ve got a leak.”

The line went dead quiet for two seconds.

“I’m handling it.”

“Right. Cool. Going back to sleep now.”

“…Alright.”

I hung up and buried my face back into the pillow.

Just as I was drifting off, the phone buzzed against the nightstand.

A text message.

From Grant.

A single line:

If anything feels off, call me directly. Not Logan. Me.