Pregnant With Alpha’s Genius Twins

#Chapter 58 – Media Frenzy

“Ian,” I call, wrapped in my favorite knitted white blanket on Victor’s couch, “come on baby, back away from the TV. You’re going to burn your eyeballs out, standing that close.”

Ian is standing with his nose inches away from the tv, his hands pressed against the screen. He barely blinks and I think, fleetingly, of Poltergeist.

“I can’t, mama,” he says. “It’s me, I’m on the TV!”

Alvin claps his hands and jumps up and down behind Ian. “Look! It’s me! There we are again!”

The media really have their hooks in this story – they’ve been cycling pictures of Victor and the claiming ceremony over and over again. Unfortunately, the event had precisely the kind of backlash that Victor hoped to avoid. Rampant speculation about the boys, Victor and Amelia’s relationship and, unfortunately, the mother.

That’s why I’m here, curled up on Victor’s couch, begrudgingly in the same room as Amelia. Victor called us all here, wanting to keep everyone in the house and on lockdown until the story fades. It’s true – there are paparazzi all over the street outside our houses; one of the Betas even found someone sneaking in the yard.

It’s all so ridiculous. But the boys, at least, at thrilled.

Victor enters the living room, handing Amelia a cup of tea. “Any change in the spin, the angle?” he asks, crossing his arms. He’s dressed down today, for once – no suit, just a finely knit sweater and slacks. But even in those, he looks stiff and formal. I smirk, looking at him. Does Victor ever relax?

“No,” Amelia responds. “Same old, same old. Just a lot of rampant speculation.”

“Good,” Victor says, watching the screen as raptly as the boys. “If it stays like this – just summarizing the event – it will blow over.”

Just after Victor says this, though, my phone dings. I pick it up.

Delia: Check out CelebGoss. You’re headline news, babe.

“Shoot,” I say, looking up at Victor and Amelia. “Can you change the channel? Delia texted me, she told me to put on CelebGoss.” So far, we’ve been sticking to Victor’s preferred news stations which lean towards national news and hard-hitting journalism.

He picks up the remote and flicks the channel. Immediately, we’re greeted with a blurry picture of my face from yesterday’s event.

reported that this woman was identified by guests as the children’s mother. We have our best agents on it now –

arms. “It’s only a matter

it’s you! Now you’re on tv!”

eyes and study it. “Are you sure it’s

Ian, tracing my form on

Amelia says, tsking, exasperated. “Don’t touch the screen with your fingers.

Ian, I think, smirking and saying nothing. Maybe I should get him

that they’re starting to figure out my identity, but frankly, at this point, I’m emotionally exhausted by it all. The fact is that my father already knows where I am and the boys exist, so there’s no one else I’m really trying to keep it a secret from. While I would

back and

commercial for home insurance and the boys fall away from the tv, returning to some blocks

looking up at him from

his uncharacteristically disheveled hair, staring passively at the tv. “Well, ideally, we would have already been married, to bring some stability to this situation. It doesn’t look good to be what the press is

as the show abruptly returns, the words News Flash

just now receiving new information,” the same reporter says, her face now bright and eager, “that sources

same blurry photo flashes on the screen. “Persons close to the family are now confirming that this is indeed Evelyn Ortega, a psychologist and single mother who was, until

a certain amount of glee now in her voice, “there is evidence that Evelyn Ortega has previously been known

rolling my eyes and pulling my blanket up over my head.

one of the old, horrible images onto the screen from that night six years ago. Of course, they’ve picked one of the more scandalous photos that a paparazzi took of Victor and I

image and blur out anything that they couldn’t cut. But still, from my hands pressed against the window and the…emotive…expression on my face, it’s

with her hand and looking down at her cup of tea. I know she’s not squeamish, and surely she’s seen these images before. I

the tv to get

Ian asks, joining his brother. “Are we in this

up and waving them over to me. “Victor, can

says Amelia, glaring at me. “I’m