Pregnant With Alpha’s Genius Twins
Chapter 77

When I wake up, it's somehow the middle of the night. I sit up straight, almost hitting my head on the top bunk of Alvin and lan's little rocket bed. Alvin curled up next to me, fully asleep, with little Archie at his feet.

I blink, trying to figure it out - how can it be the middle of the night when we came back from my father's house in the middle of the night, but I've also been sleeping for hours?

As I look around the room, vague memories come back to me. There's a bowl of soup by the bed - Edgar brought me that, I remember, but I couldn't keep my eyes open to speak to him for long or to eat it. The boys' school stuff is on the floor - I remember Victor rushing them out of the room, telling them not to bother me...but it was daylight then.

I rub my face with my hands and then run my fingers through my hair, realizing that I must have slept for an entire day. I stretch my body and yawn. God, I must have been more exhausted than I thought.

But now, inconveniently, I'm wide awake, all alone, in the middle of the night. My stomach growls. I look down at it, realizing that I'm also starving.

Slowly, trying not to disturb Alvin, I crawl out of the bottom bunk and bend down to gather the little tray that Edgar left me. I notice my phone is on the tray as well, and I flick through it as I sneak out the door and down the stairs.

Edgar: Sweet dreams, beautiful lady. I can't wait to talk to you when you wake up.

Then another one, from a few hours later.

Edgar: I'm so glad that you're safe.

Still another one.

Edgar: Call me when you wake up, baby. I hope everything is okay.

I bite my lip. Such a sweet man, Edgar. I flick a quick text off to him, apologizing for missing him, telling him that I can't wait to see him soon. By this time, I'm in the kitchen, pouring the cold soup down the sink and tucking the dirty plate away in the dishwasher. I open the fridge and am pleased to see a variety of leftovers to choose from. Smiling, I pull a cold pizza box from the fridge and am pleased to see that it's half full.

Yum, pizza. Exactly what I want right now. I turn the oven on and put the pizza in to warm up and then settle on a stool at the kitchen island.

As I stare at the oven, waiting for my meal, I'm suddenly overwhelmed by the silence of the house, by the stillness. I get to my feet and start pacing around the island, but it doesn't help. Without the distractions of my life - my job, my boys, all the thousands of things I have to do every day - my mind moves immediately to my troubles, my memories.

I think, suddenly, of my father shoving me into my childhood bedroom, that ugly nightgown already laid out on the bed. I knew then that he planned it all, took my children from school because he knew I would come get them in person and that he could trap me

there.

I think about his horrible demands of Victor to leave Amelia, his mate, to marry me as if Victor has a choice -

I think about him claiming my sons, the influence he will have over their life, how he's going to try to change them, shape them from the wonderful boys they are into the horrible Alpha men he wants them to be - Suddenly, I'm laughing, a little hysterically, overwhelmed by it all. I wrap my arms around myself and shake my head, giggling through gritted teeth. Is this seriously my life?

Desperate, seeking any kind of distraction or solution, my eyes fall on the small bar in the corner of Victor's kitchen. Perfect. I take two steps towards it and then remember, of course, that there's something better.

I turn to my left and open the refrigerator, stooping down to take a good long look at perhaps a dozen bottles of Amelia's precious rose wine. I pull out a bottle and study it. I enjoy a glass of wine (or three) myself, but part of me suspects that Amelia's entire caloric intake during the day comes from this stuff. And if she likes it so much, it must be good. If she has anything, Amelia has impeccable taste.

I carry a bottle over to the sink and fish a wine opener out of the drawer. Carefully, I open the bottle and take a long sniff of the rich, complicated scent.

Then, just for spite, I turn the whole bottle upside down over the sink and let it drain dry. Screw you, Amelia, I think. For bringing my father back into my life in the first place.

A little pleased with myself, I turn back to the refrigerator and pull out another bottle, but I don't intend to waste this one. I open it too and pour a nice big glass into a very delicate, very fancy coupe. Then, I take a long, satisfying sip, closing my eyes and enjoying every drop of the taste.

"Well."

I jump, my eyes flying open to see Victor standing a few feet away in his pajamas - black and grey, of course. The man is allergic to color. He smirks at me. "You look like you're enjoying that wine."

"Rude," I say, narrowing my eyes at him. "Don't you know that it's impolite to sneak up on a woman whom you've recently kidnapped? We don't need jump scares."

"I apologize." He says, smiling at me and coming forward to lean on the island. "Let me buy you a drink to make it up to you."

I wink at him. "You already did," I say, taking another long sip from my glass. "Unless you want to tell me that Amelia bought these bottles herself." I raise an eyebrow. He laughs. "No, she certainly did not."

"What are you doing up?" I ask, curious.

He shrugs. "I heard you up and moving around. I wanted to make sure you were okay. You slept pretty much the whole day - we were worried about you."

"Well thank you for worrying," I say, touched. "Hey," I continue, considering. "How did you know it was me up? And not some Beta moving around, or one of the kids?"

"I don't know," Victor says, frowning, now wondering at the same question. "I guess I just...knew."

The oven beeps, letting me know that my pizza is ready. Victor looks over at it, his eyebrows raised. "Looks like I bought you dinner, too. Well done, me."

"Yeah, but you're a cheap date," I say, moving to open the oven and show him its contents. "It's just pizza." I grab a plate and slide the two slices out. "Do you want one?" He sniffs the air and considers.

"Please say no," I beg, biting my lip. "You'll break my heart if you take one. I'm starving."

He laughs. "Fine, you eat them both. I'll join you in a drink, though, if you don't want all the whiskey to yourself as well."

I shrug and smile at him, glad for the company.

I grab my plate and my glass and start towards the couch. Then I pause and head back to the counter to grab the rest of the bottle of wine as well.

Victor follows me to the couch, his own signature glass of whiskey in his hand. He looks curiously at the bottle I've set on the coffee table. "Aren't you worried that's going to get warm?"

I flop onto the couch and pull my plate onto the lap. "Nope!" I say, cheerfully. "I plan to drink it all before it has the chance to warm up."

As Victor settles down next to me, I clink my wine glass cheerfully against the crystal tumbler in is hands. "Come on, Vic," I say, smiling at him, enjoying his wince at the nickname. "Let's get unreasonably drunk. I think we've earned it.