Pregnant With Alpha’s Genius Twins

Chapter 137

#Chapter 137 – Little Brother

The first few days in the cottage are chaotic, to say the least, but Victor honestly can’t remember a happier set of days in his life.

Every morning, he wakes with Evelyn in his arms to the sound of the twins pounding on the door, demanding to be let in.

Today, they’re particularly insistent.

“We don’t like this new locks policy!” They shout. “Unconstitutional!”

“Who taught them about the constitution and rights,” Victor murmurs, “was it you?”

“You hired the tutor,” she murmurs, giving him a sweet kiss and then getting up to put on her robe. “You could have had them read Discipline and Punish but noooo, it’s all about freedom now.”

He laughs with her, getting dressed, and then they both go downstairs to start breakfast.

A pattern is starting to emerge with his little family. Bright mornings, bustling with activity and laugher as they eat and prepare for work and school, as Evelyn and Victor drink coffee and exchange soft touches and passing glances.

A press of her finger against his as she hands him a cup of coffee. A soft graze of his hand across her ass as he kisses her on the cheek before going upstairs to get dressed.

All a promise of what’s to come later when the boys go to bed.

And the nights…

Victor walks across the lawn that morning, the grass muddy and sticky with melted snow. He barely notices it, though, as he thinks of the hours spent alone with Evelyn last night. Of her legs straddled over him while he grabbed her hip with one hand, running his other down the long column of her neck, down between her breasts, all the way down to her navel…

The way her hips had flicked in that way that made him – Please check at N/ôvel(D)rama.Org.

God.

He blinks, suddenly, fighting the smile that was making demands of his mouth. He’s at the back steps of his house already. He hadn’t even been aware of the time and distance that passed, so lost was he in his memories of last night.

God damnit, what he was going to do to her tonight…

But he shakes himself, straightening his tie and setting his shoulders back. Then, he climbs the steps up to his back deck and nods to the two Betas stationed at his back door. It was time to work.

Unfortunately, his day turns unpleasant as the first thing he encounters is his little brother sitting at his kitchen table.

“Good morning, Victor,” Rafe says, smirking at him over his bowl of cereal.

“Oh hey, Victor!” Bridgette says, waving to him from the coffee machine.

Victor grits his teeth as he looks at them. He understands Evelyn’s concern about Bridgette – he shares it, frankly. But god damnit, he can’t stand to look at his brother right now.

And Rafe knows it. Uses it against him.

“Do you want some coffee, Victor?” Rafe says, playing the generous host, though he winces as he waves a hand at the bright, modern kitchen. The doctor confirmed that his ribs are indeed broken. “I’m sure Bridgette would be happy to get you a cup. I’m sure it’s far superior to whatever Evelyn can whip up in that cottage kitchen. Does she boil the water over an open fire?”

Victor glares at Rafe, but decides to take the high road. “That would be amazing, Bridgette,” he says, looking at Rafe as he says it. “I would love a cup.”

After accepting the drink from Bridgette, Victor heads to his office, intercepting Burton on his way. Burton falls in one step behind him, followed closely by Beta Stephen, report files tucked neatly under his arm.

Once the two men have followed him into the office, Victor closes the door and moves to his desk.

“Burton,” he says, acknowledging his butler first. “Report?”

Burton gives a quick bow. It was hard for him, Victor knew, when he had told him that he wouldn’t be coming to the cottage with the family. It was just too small to accommodate an extra person. But Victor needed his eye here, as well, on Rafe.

“Not much to report, sir,” Burton says, and Victor is glad to hear it. “Monsieur Rafe is quiet most of the time, healing, but I see no evidence of nefarious activity. I believe that he has been truly quelled by the results of the trial. The only time he perks up is when you arrive, Sir.”

Burton gives Victor an apologetic look. “I believe,” he continues, “that he enjoys getting a rise out of you.”

Victor sighs, shrugging. He’s used to it. “And his behavior towards Bridgette?”

“He is…” Burton hesitates here. “Unkind, to Madomiselle Bridgette. At every opportunity. Sometimes I do not believe that she notices his cruel words, which I believe is to her benefit. But he does his best, at every turn, to demean her.”

Burtons voice is sad here and Victor looks up to meet his gaze. He is unsurprised but not immune to his brother’s cruelty, the girl’s suffering. “Thank you, Burton,” he says, looking back down at his paperwork. “Evelyn and I will see what we can do about that. If there’s nothing else, you are dismissed.”

Burton bows and quickly exits the room. Beta Stephen steps forward.

Victor’s eyes are on his desk, quickly preparing for the day – organizing, turning the computer on – while he orders Stephen to report. The young Beta clears his throat before he begins.

“We have two reports, sir,” he says, slipping to files onto the desk. “The first is a reconnaissance update on Walsh. The Beta team has reported some…disturbing action, on his part.”

Victor pauses and looks up at Stephen. He knows the information will be in the document, but he wishes to hear it out loud. “Elaborate?”

“Walsh has been seen, sir,” Beta Stephen continues, “visiting Willard’s barracks. Surveying the troops.”

Victor’s mind quickly processes this information. It is rare for one Alpha to show another their military holdings; doing so gives them an extreme advantage in times of war. For Willard to show this kind of faith in Walsh…

“They’re fully allied,” Victor murmurs, looking up to Stephen for confirmation. The Beta nods.

“That’s what we suspect, sir.”

“And the only reason for them to do that,” Victor says, thinking aloud, “is to prepare an assault on me.”

Stephen presses his lips together. It’s not precisely a confirmation on his part, but Victor doesn’t need it. He knows.

Victor feels his muscles tighten with anger. He’s eager for the fight, frankly – eager to smash these threats to his power. But he forces his muscles to relax. Now was not the time. There was another folder on his desk to consider before he could turn to that.

“Next?” Victor says, calm again.

“We have intel,” Stephen says, “that Annabeth Prath is holding a charity function tonight. One to which you were not invited.”

Victor flips open the file, noting the copy of an invitation which he had not received, as well as a guest list and some further details regarding location and security. Victor considers this quietly.

If Annabeth was holding an event from which he was expressly excluded, it would send a very real message to his community. It was one thing to ask him to remove her names from his school in private, but quite another to cut him publicly like this.

Victor’s eyes scan the guest list, noting, importantly, that Amelia’s name is on it.

Angry again, Victor raises his eyes to his Beta. “It was clever of you to see this, Stephen,” he says. “Many would not mark a party like this as important.”

Stephen nods his head slightly in thanks for the acknowledgement, but Victor can see the pride in his face.

Quickly, he closes his file and returns his gaze to the computer. “Please have Burton prepare my tuxedo for this evening,” he says. “Let me know if there’s any trouble.”

Stephen nods and heads for the door. Then, before he leaves he hesitates. “Should I have him prepare anything for Miss Evelyn?…” He asks, his voice delicate.

Victor glances at him. “No,” he says, decisive. “Just my tuxedo.”

Stephen nods and leaves, closing the door behind him.

If Victor was going to convince Annabeth of his dedication to family values, and if Amelia was going to be in the room, he didn’t need Evelyn on his arm causing a stir.

They would break their relationship to the press soon, but not tonight. When it was right.

He just hopes, silently, that the press haven’t already caught wind of it.