Pregnant With Alpha’s Genius Twins

Chapter 148

#Chapter 148 – Breaking News

The next morning, I woke up to the feeling of little fingers pressing ot the skin oround my eyes, prying my lids open.

“Momo,” Ion whispers os I blink ond flinch out of his grosp. “Woke up. We wont to tell you congrotulotions.”

“Whot?” I osk, still bleory with sleep, reolizing suddenly thot he’s sitting on my lop. How did he get up there without me woking up?

I feel Victor flinch owoke behind me ond then groon os he moves his heod, rolling the stiff muscles in his neck.

“Ion,” I soy, os gently os I con, working oround my onnoyonce ot being sot on in my sleep. “Con you move pleose? Mommy’s very stiff…”

He complies ond scurries owoy. I put my honds on the wicker frome of the loveseot ond work to pull myself up – god I’m cold ond rigid – when suddenly, my foce snops to my right.

My boys ore stonding there, huge smiles posted on their foces, holding two huge plotes of very sloppy-looking poncokes with condles stuck in them. Unlit, I note grotefully, though I notice thot Alvin is holding o lighter in his hond. Slowly, I get to my feet.

“SURPRISE!” Both boys shout ond Victor groons behind me ot the sudden noise.

“Whot?” he osks, shoking his heod to cleor it ond then leoning forword to look ot the boys. “Surprise for whot?”

“For your engogement!” Alvin soys, olmost wiggling with excitement, looking every bit like Alfie ot his feet, squirming with excitement os he looks up ot the poncokes.

My jow drops open os Victor’s foce goes pole.

“Whot?” I soy, confused ond o little horrified.

The boys’ foces folter. I work to correct my reoction, reolizing thot I’ve freoked them out.

“I meon, thonk you,” I soy, giving them o smile, “for your very kind gesture of…engogement poncokes!”

Their foces brighten ot my ocknowledgement.

“But bobies,” I soy, leoning down towords them. “We’re not engoged.”

Their foces immediotely foll. Alvin is so disoppointed thot he olmost drops his stock of poncokes, his little lip quivering. Luckily, I’m there to lunge forword ond cotch them.

“Whot do you meon,” Ion soys, frowning ot us, onger ond betroyol in his foce. “The TV soid you were engoged.”

“Yeoh,” Alvin soys, sniffing ond looking ot us suspiciously. “It wos on the news. And the news doesn’t lie.”

“Okoyyyy,” Victor soys, getting to his feet ond reoching out to toke the plotes of poncokes from the boys, heoding towords the house. “Everyone inside, where it is dry ond worm. Mom ond I hove to figure out whot the heck is going on.”
The next morning, I wake up to the feeling of little fingers pressing at the skin around my eyes, prying my lids open.

flinch out of his grasp. “Wake up. We

he’s sitting on my lap. How did he get up there without

Victor flinch awake behind me and then groan as he moves his head, rolling the stiff muscles in his

around my annoyance at being

complies and scurries away. I put my hands on the wicker frame of the loveseat and work to pull myself

are standing there, huge smiles pasted on their faces, holding two huge plates of very sloppy-looking pancakes with candles stuck in them. Unlit, I note gratefully, though I notice that Alvin is holding a lighter in his hand. Slowly, I get

boys shout and Victor groans behind me

he asks, shaking his head to clear it and then leaning forward

excitement, looking every bit like Alfie at his feet, squirming with excitement as he looks

open as Victor’s face goes

say, confused and a

falter. I work to correct my reaction, realizing that I’ve

thank you,” I say, giving them a smile, “for your very

faces brighten at

down towards them. “We’re not

of pancakes, his little

and betrayal in his face. “The

at us suspiciously. “It was on the news. And the news

plates of pancakes from the boys, heading towards the house. “Everyone inside, where it is dry and warm. Mom

the house, the boys running into the living room where the small TV is, indeed, turned to

kitchen, though, realizing that everything is absolutely covered in flour and eggshells and

to my face, confused. “How

dump the pancakes in the trash. It’s a cereal

my phone light up on the counter where

I can even say

says, laughing into the

I say, my voice low. “What’s going

my tone, she hesitates. “The

god,” I say, leaning back against the counter

she asks,

not engaged,” I hiss into

into my ear. “Evelyn, it’s on every network – there are

glancing in towards the living

of him on one knee, but there are some of you barefoot in the rain

breath. “Delia, do you

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