Pregnant With Alpha’s Genius Twins

#Chapter 120 – Consequences

The woman steps out of her car, her impossibly long legs made even longer by the four-inch heels strapped precariously to her perfectly manicured feet. She closes the door to her Porsche with a click and then slowly, casually, strolls into the building labeled Prath Industries.

“Annabeth Prath, please,” she says to the receptionist waiting for her there, taking off her Louis Vuitton sunglasses to give the girl a dazzling smile.

The receptionist looks up at her and then does a double take. “Oh!” she says. “Oh, hi! Welcome!”

The woman continues to smile at the receptionist. She’s used to being recognized.

“Yes,” the receptionist says, nodding and checking the calendar. “Yes, I see your appointment noted here. Just a moment. Could we get you a cup of coffee? A bottle of water?”

“No, thank you,” the woman says smoothly and then leans against the counter to wait. She looks around the room with confidence, assured that everything, today, was going to go just according to plan. She hears the receptionist behind her making a quick call to let them know that she’s arrived.

A few moments later, Annabeth herself comes through a set of glass doors, holding out her hands to the woman.

“Annabeth,” the woman ways, giving her that trademark stunning smile.

“Well well,” Annabeth says, taking the woman’s hands in hers and looking her over from head to toe. “I must say, you’re looking very well.”

“Yes,” the woman says, shaking back her shiny hair and giving a little laugh. “I took a few weeks in San Tropez to get my plans in order, and then came back relaxed and rested.”

“Well good for you,” Annabeth says, giving her a smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “I admit, I was curious to get your call. Won’t you come in, Amelia?”

says, with a smile that puts Annabeth’s teeth

of a smile drifting across her face. Smoothly, she pulls her car out of the

a spot far from the entrance, not eager to be

car, pulling a hoodie and a pair of sneakers out of a bag. In a moment, she’s swapped her Jimmy Choos for some beat up

heads inside, leaving her

to Allied Therapy,” says a woman at a beat-up desk. “How can

her voice a little lower than she usually

that process with you. Is there anything else you’d like to tell me, so that

says. “With my boyfriend, an Alpha. It’s kind of a…high profile case. I was hoping to speak with someone who might have experience with this kind of

have a couple of therapists who specialize in this kind of work. If you fill out this paperwork, I’d be happy

fills out the form with a fake name and address.

over the stack of profiles. “These are some of the profiles of

the packet and begins flicking through them, but she’s frustrated to see that, unfortunately, there are at least twenty-five therapists to choose from. Unlikely that she’ll be able to find the

through, she pauses, shocked to see a familiar name. The top of the fifth page in

smile spreads across Amelia’s

back on the woman’s desk. “I changed my mind. We’re

Amelia doesn’t turn. She just walks

way to her third appointment of the day, Amelia lights a cigarette and takes a long, slow puff. She’s always loved smoking, but Victor had hated

get sloppy and leave a butt on the back porch. “You’ll just have to quit when you get pregnant,

just meant she had to be more careful.