Pregnant With Alpha’s Genius Twins

#Chapter 50 – Fight

“Vic-“ Amelia sputters out half of his name as Victor strides into the bedroom, grabs her by the arm, and slams 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, playing 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 claim 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 plan. 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?!”

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

“WHAT!”

just listen to me, Victor? For f**k’s sake. I can’t get a

seethes but

looks at Victor here with soft eyes, taking a hesitant step forward. “You know that those boys

here is less full of rage and more of actual confusion. Amelia presses

heirs…that means that my boys – whenever I have them – they’ll miss out on that privilege.” She looks down

how it would affect Amelia’s children. For him, of course, any children he had with

part of our starting family was about lineage,” Amelia says, speaking softly. “I always knew my children would be safe, would inherit power,

still will,” Victor

the first and the third son. A great difference, in terms of what your life was like. When we planned our lives, our future family, I had no reason to think that my son wouldn’t be your

solution,” Victor growls, his anger returning, “was not to go and consult

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, placing a hand on Victor’s arm, looking up into

free to inherit your pack. Like

the sadness

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

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

it is answered. “Kensington?” Wellingtons’

and to be contacting

worry, my boy” Wellington says, intrigued. “What can I do for

Victor says, pacing along the length of his office, still running on the

Willard says, surprised. “What do

deal. I want to transfer her

she was in graduate school training to be a therapist, of all unprofitable things. But I admit, she

I would appreciate it,” Victor says,

your property, but admit

grits his teeth at the possessive. “She is important to

I’m going to require an answer, Victor. If

considers his options and then a sigh hisses from

Victor says, his teeth clenched.