Pregnant With Alpha’s Genius Twins

#Chapter 65 – Close call

“Sure, I have a moment,” I say, tucking my feet sideways beneath me.

In honesty, though, I don’t have too long. The boys are downstairs waiting for their dinner and I have absolutely nothing thawed or prepped. Still, I can tell by the tension in Victor’s voice that something’s up.

He sighs, a big one. “I’m…I’m really struggling.”

“Please,” I say, my heart truly going out to him. “Tell me about it.”

“My fiancé moved our wedding up to this month. It’s been…kind of a whirlwind, getting everything together in time.”

“Is that what’s stressing you out? The shortened schedule and all that that entails?”

“No, honestly, I don’t care about that. We have enough staff that really not much of it is falling on my plate. It’s just that…I am struggling to care about it at all. My fiancé just reminded me that over the summer I was so excited about the wedding. I wanted to be involved – wanted to pick the flowers, to have a say in ridiculous things like the color scheme. Now I just…I just want it to be over.”

I frown, disturbed and intrigued by this. “This kind of disinterest is usually pretty telling,” I say. “It doesn’t come from nowhere. Please, can you tell me why you decided to move the wedding up in the first place? That’s a pretty big decision.”

“Yes, it was,” he says, sighing again, and I imagine him sitting at his desk with his forehead resting in one hand. “It was kind of an ultimatum. I recently…publicly claimed my sons as my own.” I can hear him grimace here. He probably realizes that his therapist can guess who he is with this information, as long as I’m not some kind of mole person living in a sewer with no wifi.

“My fiancé,” he continues, “she told me that she feels like she’s the one person in this family who has no official ties to it. That she wanted to make it official as soon as possible.”

I snort in derision and then slap my hand over my mouth and nose, shocked by my lack of discretion. I hear Victor go silent on the other line, but, frustrated, I move beyond it. “She’s your Luna, though, yes? You’re a mated pair? Isn’t that bond enough for her?”

“Apparently not,” he says, his own voice sarcastic. I sense that we’re on the same page about this.

“It sounds to me,” I say, leaning back against my closet wall, “that she’s being a little manipulative.”

He is silent for a moment, and then says, “Really. I’m surprised to hear you say that. You’re usually much more…balanced, in your advice. You tell me to take time to consider her side, to think about what she’s feeling. What’s different now?”

“What’s different,” I say, unable to help a little of my anger from showing in my voice, “is that from what you’ve told me, it doesn’t seem like she’s being very fair. I’m not going to continue to tell you to consider her side if she refuses to consider yours, and that of your children.”

waiting

your life and

you that supersede hers? That doesn’t sound like a mother to me, one appropriate for your sons

of it that way. But it’s true – she was in no rush to be officially tied to me until the boys were, as well as

before. Did Amelia bring me up in the conversation? I’m dying to know, but grit my teeth to avoid pushing him on it. I can’t show

I can

I’m surprised to hear the words come out of my mouth. I’m not sure I knew that that’s what

be your mate if she wasn’t your match – wasn’t as clever, willful, and powerful as

He hums, listening.

close the space between you and find ways to convince you to agree to the things that she wants, even if they’re

voice. I had been monologuing a bit, speaking my own thoughts as

to hear him sound happy and

hands up the phone and I’m left with the receiver in my hand, the dial tone beeping quietly. I hang it up and groan, putting my head in my hands. Have I done the right

limit my distractions so that I can think. Ultimately, I decide that I stand by my advice. Every day I’m further convinced that Amelia is a snake, a danger to my boys, to me, and – indeed – to Victor himself. She’s selfish and has proven herself

of my original suspicions that she tried to have my boys kidnapped at that parade? But she charmed me too, pretending

sons’ happiness but now, laying in the dark of my closet, I

up stark straight in my closet. That was Alvin’s voice,

closet,” I hear Ian say and I hurl myself at the closet door, reaching up to grab

into the room, just in time to land at Victor’s feet as he strides into my room. Slowly, I raise my head from my view of his shiny black shoes,

doing, Evelyn?” Victor

was in the closet looking…for my rain

looks pointedly at my mucky boots, which are sitting uncleaned by the bedroom door. Then quirks his head

“were you sitting in

come up with an excuse. “I don’t…have to explain my methods of self-care to you,” I say, straightening my shoulders and raising my chin, putting on a mantle of pride to hide my panic. “If it pleases me to sit in my closet…then so be

talking like I’m in a Shakespearean

and give me a weird look, putting his hands in his pockets.