Pregnant With Alpha’s Genius Twins

#Chapter 91 – Last-minute Calls

“Ridiculous,” Victor growls, pacing his room. He slams a fist against the wall.

He saw his brother accost Evelyn on her way out of the room, saw her slam that plate of food into

Rafe’s chest. Victor had been standing with his father, still giving him a piece of his mind, when it

happened.

He had stopped mid-sentence, though, and stormed forward, intent on meeting Evelyn at the elevator,

eager to make amends.

Before he could get out of the room, though, Amelia had grabbed his hand. “If you leave now,” she had

hissed. “I will never forgive you, Victor. Let her go.”

Victor had snapped his head back to the elevators, but the door was already closing behind Evelyn and

the boys.

Amelia had wrapped her arms around him then, looking like she was a happy bride holding her groom

close the night before her wedding. But in his ear, she had whispered, “do not embarrass me, Victor, by

chasing after another woman at our dress rehearsal. We have things to do tonight. She is fine, let her

go.”

When Amelia had pulled out of the hug, she had a big smile on her face, pretending, for the life of her,

that everything was fine. But he could tell, already, that she was on edge.

“Fine,” he had said, and he knew that she was right. Evelyn was out of the room now and could handle

herself. He had to pay attention to his chosen bride.

The rest of the evening had been a nightmare of fake smiles and laughter, of going through the motions

of the wedding. Victor did it all, but the entire time, he couldn’t keep Evelyn out of his head.

It was his fault, all his fault, for thinking he could bring her here and not have her be tortured by his

family, shamed by them. He felt such guilt about that. But beneath it all, he felt a deeper disconnection

from the wedding itself.

Amelia was right – why did it matter to him if his family didn’t like Evelyn? The insult to her was

unfortunate, but minimal, especially considering her plans to move off his property and out of his life.

She had faced worse in her life than a few insults from some petty Alphas, so why had he let it ruin his

night?

Why, despite his knowledge that she was okay, had he only been able to think of Evelyn through the

entire rehearsal, and not concentrate on Amelia, his beautiful bride?

As soon as the event had ended, he had snuck away. Gone straight to the elevators and pressed the

button for floor 12. As soon as the doors opened, he had stridden across the hall to pound on the door

of Evelyn’s suite. No one had answered.

He hadn’t even taken a moment to say goodbye to Amelia as he left the party, to check on her plans for

the evening. Frankly, he didn’t care.

Where was Evelyn? Even now, he is frantic, needing to know, needing to check on her. Where are his

boys? He paces his room, anger and anxiety building in him with every step. Why hadn’t they

answered the door to their suite? If they were in there, why were they ignoring him? If they weren’t,

where had they gone?

f**k.

Victor slams his fist against the plaster again, this time denting it, small cracks radiating out from the

divot made by his fist. He winces a little at the pain, and stares at the damaged wall. Suddenly, he’s

ashamed of himself for losing his cool.

He runs a hand through his hair and over his face. He needs to talk to someone.

At that realization, Victor pulls out his phone and dials the number on speed dial. It rings and rings, with

no one answering. When that fails, he sends a text to the agency, who quickly respond to apologize,

saying that they can’t get ahold of his therapist.

f**k.

Unable to contain himself, to pace around his own suite even one more time, Victor strides for the door

– determining to do something, anything –

As he furiously swings the door open, he’s shocked to see a man standing there just at that moment,

raising his fist to knock. The man jumps back, a little frightened by the angry Alpha that has appeared

unbidden in front of him.

Victor blinks, trying to clear his head, and recognizes the man as the butler who had helped them find

their rooms this morning. “What?” He growls, impatient to get rid of this man, to go find Evelyn –

“Excuse me,” sir, the butler says quickly, bowing slightly, fear still in his voice. “I heard from the front

desk that you were inquiring about the location of Madame Ortega. That you looked for her at her room

and she was not there.”

“Where is she?” Victor growls, taking a step forward. The butler stumbles back a step, his eyes going

wide. Victor takes a deep breath and works to contain himself. “I apologize. Forgive me. Do you have

information on her whereabouts?”

“Yes,” the man says, straightening his stature as well as his tie. “Madame Ortega sought me out and

asked for a private space for her boys and she to enjoy a small dinner, where they wouldn’t be

disturbed. I found them a place on the roof. If you would like…”

The butler’s voice fades off here and he sweeps a hand towards the elevators, implying that he’d be

happy to take Victor, should he desire.

Victor nods and the butler bows slightly. Together, they head off to the bank of elevators, the butler

almost skipping to keep up with Victor’s long stride.

A few minutes later, the elevator dings and the doors open onto the roof. Victor blinks, looking around,

confused. He had been expecting the ballroom where he and Amelia are to be married tomorrow – an

incredible, sweeping room with a glass roof and windows which has incredible views of the falls on

three sides.

This elevator, however, opens onto a small garden on an open terrace. The falls were nowhere in sight.

Victor considers this, and concludes that they must be on the other side of the building.

“The chef’s private garden,” the butler explains, stepping off the elevator, “where he grows produce and

herbs. I knew that Madame Ortega and her children would be undisturbed here.”

Victor blinks at the butler, who looks up at him seriously. “Thank you.” He says, truly grateful. “That is…

thank you. That was insightful of you.”

The butler nods sharply. “It is in our business to be insightful.” With that, he leads Victor forward

through the neat rows of greenery. As they walk, Victor breathes in the fresh scent of rosemary and

basil. He can also hear the sounds of his children’s laugher before he sees them.

Coming around a patch of fresh tomato bushes, Victor finds himself growing calm when he sees Evelyn

tucked up on a padded bench, the boys laughing and dancing before her. In front of them glows a small

fire pit, lit for warmth, as well as a small bistro table set with a light dinner of bread, cheese, fruit, and

wine.

“Anthony,” Evelyn says, smiling at the butler as he comes into view. “Welcome back.” Her face falls a

bit when she sees Victor appear behind him.

“Madame,” the butler says, bowing. “I hope you will forgive the liberty of bringing Alpha Kensington to

you. He was asking about your whereabouts.”

“That’s fine,” she says softly.

“Evelyn,” Victor says, moving forward, but she holds up a finger in caution. Not in front of the children,

her face and body say. Victor stops himself, nodding. Of course, she is right.

“If it is not an imposition,” the butler says slowly, “I could take the children down to their suite and see

them safely to bed…”

“No, Anthony,” Evelyn says, starting to get up. “That’s not in your job description.”

“No, madame,” the butler replies, stopping her with a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Whatever it is you

need, it is my job to give you, if it is at all within my power.”

“You wouldn’t mind?” she says, looking up at him.

“Not at all.” The butler claps his hands. “Come, children.” He bends down to smile at them. “I will take

you in the service elevator, in which children never get to go. You will love it.”

“Just put on the TV for them, Anthony!” Evelyn calls after the three as they go. “Boys, you will be good!”

They yell their agreement over their shoulders, and Evelyn and Victor watch their children disappear.

“Evelyn,” Victor starts, sitting down on the bench with her. “I’m so sorry – “

“It’s fine, Victor,” Evelyn interrupts, shaking her head. “You didn’t do anything wrong.” Her eyes harden

as she looks at his face. “But I’m telling you now: I will never speak to those men again, and I do not

want them around my children.”

“Evelyn, be reasonable –“

“I’m serious, Victor,” her voice a once implacable and plaintive. “I never want my boys to see your

father or your brother ever again once this wedding is done. Their ideas about me, and, I imagine about

women in general…they’re just so completely toxic. I don’t want them as influences on my boys’ lives.”