Pregnant With Alpha’s Genius Twins

#Chapter 201 – Pancakes

A few hours later, wrapped in our coziest robes, Victor and I step out of our room.

As soon as we walk out, I can hear the noise of our boys downstairs, laughing and talking as they have their breakfast.

I clutch my robe tightly around my neck as I hear them and look up at Victor, a huge smile breaking out on my face. God, it’s good to hear them laugh.

Victor returns my look and takes my hand. Then slowly, carefully, we walk down the hall and head down the stairs.

As soon as they hear the creek of our footsteps on the stairs, we hear everyone go silent.

I’m ahead of Victor, so they see my feet first, staying silent. Then, as soon as they see Victor’s slipper appear on the step above mine, we hear a collective gasp.

Victor and I look at each other at that and can’t help but burst into laughter.

“Mama!” Alvin shouts, running to the clutch the banister at the bottom of the stairs.

“Papa!” Ian screeches, right after him, skidding to a stop at the bottom of the stairs and banging into the wall at the bottom. “You’re better!”

They start up the stairs towards us but Victor puts out a hand –

“Wait, wait,” Victor says, his voice soft. “We’re not totally better yet, okay? Go easy on us.”

“Come and take our hands,” I say to them, smiling at my boys at the bottom of the stairs, unable to take my eyes off of them. So precious to me, these two little things.

Grinning at us, Alvin and Ian obediently come gently up the stairs. Alvin takes my hand, helping me balance, my little gentleman. Ian goes up a step beyond me, helping his dad by letting Victor put a hand on his shoulder.

When we get down into the kitchen, I tear my eyes away from my boys to look at Rafe, who is sitting at the table, pale as a ghost.

Burton stands behind him, a spatula in his hand, the pan he was using to cook beginning to smoke lightly on the stove behind him.

moving to

spinning and running to the pan to contain the

stop looking

whispers, his gaze following us as Ian and Alvin lead us to seats at the table. “How

say, interrupting Rafe as Victor and I sit down. I don’t wanting to have this conversation in front of my sons. “Do you know what I would really

newspaper,” I say, giving them a big excited

I say, clutching my hands below my chin. “Just go look. I really want to see

Ian bolt to the front door, slipping on their boots and grabbing their jackets to check

looking at me curiously. “Do we…subscribe to the

and then looking at Rafe. “But. I don’t want them to know how

and then he looks at his brother as

says, his voice still full of disbelief. “It was…it was so bad last night. You were…god damnit, Victor, but you were on death’s doorstep. I really didn’t think that you were going to make it through the night. And yet, somehow

responds, looking up at Burton as he brings us over two glasses of orange

as if he might be

Victor says, smiling at me tenderly, taking my hand. I feel a

what,” Rafe says, starting to get

I’m not trying to be cryptic. I don’t really know what

but also somewhere beyond it. Of what it

So, I improvise.

Nursed him through the night, and whatever it was that

hanging open. I can tell that he doesn’t believe me and I give him a little shrug. He doesn’t need to believe me,

experience that defies belief. Any attempt to explain it, really, would…it just wouldn’t make

go and walk away,” Rafe says, dubiously. “Sometime around

his lips. I watch him drink, thrilled to see it. He hasn’t had anything except

feel as if

Burton is there at my shoulder with a stack of pancakes. “Madame,” he says gently, placing them

you,” I say, looking up at him,