Pregnant With Alpha’s Genius Twins

#Chapter 90 – Brother in Law

“Oh, you poor baby!” I croon, taking a step forward and taking Rafe’s face in my hands, angling it to study his cheek. “I’m so sorry, I was so eager to get that horse fly off your face that I must have swung too hard.”

I speak loudly enough that the people nearest us can hear, my face a mask of motherly concern. But my heart is still steel, and full of hatred for this horrible man.

Rafe smirks at me, nodding his head in concession. I’ve won this one. What’s his option at this moment besides going along with me? He’s certainly not going to cry like a baby, telling everyone that I smacked him.

“Barely a sting, Evelyn,” he murmurs, raising a hand to grasp my wrist. The gesture looks to everyone else like brotherly affection, but he grips my wrist harder than he needs to.

“Better put some ice on it, then,” I say, my own voice cold. As everyone begins to turn their attention elsewhere, I drop my friendly façade and pull away from him. With a withering glare, I rip my wrist from his hand and turn away, looking for my sons.

I don’t want to admit it, but I’m a little shaken by my encounter with Rafe. Thank god Victor’s mother warned me; if that had come completely out of the blue, I don’t know what I’d have done.

As there’s nothing I can do about it now, though, I turn my attention to my children. I spot them at the long rectangular table of honor at the front of the room, speaking to a grey-haired man seated in a wheel chair. Victor is there, too, and his mother. I bite my lip as I head their way.

It’s time, I guess, to meet the patriarch.

I walk slowly up to the group gathered around the man in the wheel chair, moving behind Victor. I tug at his sleeve lightly to let him know I’m there. He turns his head and gives me a smile, making room for me in the group.

As Victor moves aside I am able to see my two boys standing in front of their grandfather. He speaks to them with a stern expression, but I can tell by the light in his eyes that he – like everyone else – is quite taken with my clever, handsome boys. I fold my hands together in front of me, pleased that this aspect of the night, at least, is going well.

As Henry Kensington speaks to his grandsons, I take him in. He’s distinguished, certainly, in his neatly pressed suit coat. He even has a matching blanket draped over his knees, the tassels of which fall almost to the shiny shoes which sit on the footrests of his wheelchair.

Everyone knows the story, of course, of the car accident that took Henry Kensington’s ability to walk from him. Victor was only in his early twenties at the time, an unheard-of age to take over a pack, but his father insisted on stepping down.

that made him do it – there was no reason he couldn’t lead his

had been a setup from a rival pack, intent on killing Henry. If it was true, that pack had assumed that Victor, as heir, would be too young to cope with leadership and that

father’s pack from a relic into one of the most technologically advanced and powerful packs in

success, for rising to the challenge which he himself had declined. If he was anything like my father, that’s exactly what

sharp word interrupt my thoughts. He’s looking away from my boys now, up at his wife, who stands at his side. “Take these boys to get something

to me for direction. I nod and smile at them, encouraging them to go.

taking in every aspect of my form, judging me. “This is the young woman who

forward and holding out my hand. “Evelyn Ortega, sir. It is a

my hand with distaste and then shifts his gaze to

any further. Victor’s brow lowers as he frowns, realizing the

flick over me again, “and perhaps she still does. But that’s no reason to keep her around.” He sneers, and then continues. “A man painted my house the other day, but you don’t see me inviting

move to turn away

an insult to your bride. Honestly,” he leans forward and lowers his voice, “keep the woman, if you like her, but don’t parade her in front of Amelia like that.” He turns his head to look me in the eyes as he snarls, “she doesn’t need to

working to build as much pride in my voice as I can. “But one day, my sons will inherit this pack.” I lean forward,

my side as I move towards Marissa and the boys. They’re sitting together, apparently having a pleasant time, talking as they eat the macaroni and cheese that Marissa surely ordered just

to their table

for his.

to put a smile on my face. Marissa studies me and I can tell that she’s not falling for it. “Let’s go eat these by the waterfall!” Then, under my breath, I add, “for fun, we can guess how long it would take someone

jump out of their chairs, coming around the table to me. The darkness of

with you?” Marissa says, standing slowly. “I would like more time with my only

give her a tight smile. “I’m sorry,” I say, “but no. You have been kind to me, but your husband and