Pregnant With Alpha’s Genius Twins

#Chapter 88 – Meeting the Family

When we arrive over an hour later, the boys are thrilled, but everyone else is, I think, feeling the strain. The boys spent the rest of the ride continuing to needle Amelia about little things, despite Victor and my equal attempts at intervention.

I may not like the girl, but it’s her wedding – she doesn’t deserve to be tortured just because the boys are bitter that their father has chosen her over me.

I bite my tongue at this thought, unwilling to admit…well. That’s all beside the point.

As I climb out of the van I can feel a little mist in the air. Curious, I walk a few steps around the van towards a great rushing sound and gasp, taking in the sight of the gigantic waterfall that plunges from a cliff face several stories above us. It’s absolutely breathtaking.

“Whoaaa!” Ian shouts, running over towards the rail that separates the wedding facility from the plunging cataract. “That’s incredible!”

“It’s so cool!” Alvin shouts, following him. “Mom! Can I go over it in a barrel!?”

“What!?” I shout, horrified at the idea. I stride over to them, grabbing both their hands.

“It’s safe!” Alvin whines.

“We watched a documentary about Niagara Falls!” Ian continues the protest.

“None of that,” I say, stern, eager to knock this idea out of their heads. “Absolutely no more conversation on that point. Waterfalls are for looking, not for touching.”

I haul them back to a smirking Victor, who stands by the van. “To be fair,” he says, “at their age I would have had the same impulse.”

“Encourage them any more,” I mutter, “and I’ll shove you into the barrel myself.”

He laughs and then turns away to help Amelia begin to unload the bags. Spotting our own luggage by the side of the van, I bring the boys over to grab it. As we turn back towards the venue, we see a man dressed in black tails walking over to us.

“Madame Ortega, I presume?” He asks.

in my head, correcting him,

would, madame,” he says, bowing again and gesturing towards the face of the venue. “We have a suite prepared for you and your sons.” I pop up the handle of my suitcase and nod to him again, starting to follow

from individual rooms and suites. The ballroom, I know, from Amelia telling us perhaps a hundred times, is on the roof of the building, a gorgeous space with three-hundred-and-sixty degree views

myself, I can’t wait to see it. Amelia’s excellent taste has

him, waving to

with this guy!” Alvin shouts as well, pointing to the butler. I peek over my shoulder

into the lobby and then immediately to a stand of elevators which stretch to the left and the right of the front desk. We take the leftmost elevator,

exit the elevator, there are only a few rooms ahead of us. Seeing my confusion, the butler explains, “the family suites, madame.” He opens the leftmost door and bows slightly as we enter before him. “Mademoiselle Jones had you listed for a more junior suite, in the floors below, but when I saw the important role that the boys had in the wedding, I realized her mistake. And corrected

a small smirk. I laugh a little, pleased, and remind myself to ask Victor to give him a hefty

see him jump onto the top of the couch, his hands and face pressed against the windows behind it which – oh, wow – look directly into

call, hurrying over to him. “Don’t touch the windows

the butler calls after me. “If I may, the falls deserve to be admired, and we have staff who are used

at him, but pull the boys down nonetheless. I think I’m going to

else, madame?…”

head and starts for the door, but I stop him with a hand on his arm. “Really,”

a warm smile and nods. “Of course. Anything for a lady, such

deep sigh, steeling myself for what is surely going to be a complicated weekend. I turn to look again at the beautiful falls, letting them

me. Surprised, I spin to see a woman standing in my doorway – she must have caught it when the butler left, before it closed. She’s a tall woman, about twenty years older than me, with light brown hair coiled into a neat chignon

corner of her mouth lifting

I say hesitating. “I’m sorry, I

these,” she says, breezing past me and into my suite. “Must be my grandchildren.” She kneels on the ground and opens her arms to my two boys. “Come and see me,” she

family, though I knew it would be inevitable. I

you our other

new one a little bit ago!” Alvin chimes in, following close on his brother’s

that I am better. But you must call me Mimmi, not Grandmama. That is much more