Pregnant With Alpha’s Genius Twins

#Chapter 104 – Gala

The hall is truly gorgeous, candle-lit chandeliers hoisted high in the ballroom, casting a glowing golden

light down on all of the attendees.

Victor stands at the entrance to the hall, his mother and father on one side, Rafe and Bridgette on the

other. Victor has his hands in his pockets, surveying the room. It’s a big night for him – one which

could, perhaps, make or break him.

His mother gives his hand a small, subtle squeeze. “You’ve got this, my boy,” she whispers. Victor

gives her a quick smile, and then, as one, they walk into the room.

It’s a charity event, like so many others for Alphas from their communities. This one supports widowed

wives and their children, an honorable cause which Victor has famously supported before.

While he’s here to support the charity, it’s also an opportunity for Victor to make further connections

with community leaders, solicit further donations for his school project, and to feel out his reputation

with the other wolves after his disastrous almost-wedding.

A few steps into the room and Annabeth Prath sweeps over to him. “Victor!” she says, giving him a kiss

on the cheek. “So lovely to see you.” Victor gives her a warm smile, glad to see that she, at least, is still

on his side.

“Hello Annabeth,” he returns. “You remember my mother?” The pair engage in a quick exchange of

introductions before his family leaves him to fetch drinks from the bar.

“Who is that little piece of meat your brother has shown up with?” Annabeth says, grimacing. Victor

shakes his head. “Bridgette,” he explains. “Rafe’s latest flame, though I don’t know why he thought it

appropriate to bring this one home, when he’s never bothered with anyone else.”

Annabeth raises an eyebrow. “Is he going for your seat?”

Victor blinks, startled at her perspicacity. She laughs at his shocked expression. “You’re single now,

Victor. With Amelia gone, half the men in this room are either looking to depose you or marry you to

their daughters.”

Victor grimaces, looking around to see that many eyes are, indeed, on him. Annabeth takes his arm

and leads him towards the bar as well. “I hope you have some tricks up your sleeve, Victor,” she says.

“I believe the hyenas are circling.”

They walk up to the bar behind Rafe and Bridgette, the former talking loudly, the later leaning heavily

on his arm. “- Completely shattered by the betrayal, hardly gets out of bed,” Rafe says to a gathered

group of Alphas. “If he wasn’t my brother, I’d say –“

“You’d say what.” Victor interposes, his voice calm and commanding.

Rafe turns quickly, clearly surprised. “That…that –“ he stutters, his eyes darting as he searches for

words. “That you’ll never be taken down by something so frivolous as a cancelled engagement.” He

gives a broad, fake smile.

“Thank you, Rafe,” Victor says, joining the circle and speaking for himself. “But I believe that anyone

would be shaken, at least slightly, by the loss of a beloved mate, even if it was my decision. But that

shouldn’t be seen as a blow to my leadership. If anything, my pack is stronger now without that weak

link.”

Some in the group nod, considering the truth in that statement. Others frown, or, stone-faced, walk

away unwilling to let him see their reaction. As the group breaks up, Victor graps Rafe by the arm.

“Whoa, brother –“ Rafe says, attempting to laugh it off.

“If you speak another bad word about me,” Victor snarls, “I will end you, and your pathetic grab for

power. You would destroy this pack in a day, were it under your control.” With that, Victor shoves Rafe

away from him. Rafe wraps his hand around Bridgette’s waist, pulling her away and trying to joke, but

Victor can see that he’s shaken. Good.

The evening passes slowly, with Victor seeking to speak to every Alpha he can, letting them see that

he’s as calm, controlled, and powerful as he ever was. It’s hard work, keeping his head straight when

half of these men sneer at him when they shake his hand, thinking him an i***t for dumping Amelia.

The other trial of the evening – which Victor did not anticipate, but Annabeth did – is the number of

women who have begged a moment of his attention that night. Mothers, mostly, who find a reason to

casually mention their daughter’s accomplishments, and then just happen to have a lovely picture of

her on their phone.

Less frequent, but more anxiety-producing, are the small number of Alpha-born young women who

slink towards him and make subtle (and not-so-subtle) hints that they’d be willing to consider a date, or

more. Or less.

After one of these, with a particularly unattractive young blonde, Victor takes a deep breath and

straightens his tie. He had to deal with this more in his younger years, but since Amelia came on the

scene…well, women mostly left him alone. A mated man wasn’t worth their time.

Still, even before her, he had found easier ways out of those conversations. Only once, really, had he

let himself be pulled into a dark alcove, and then taken someone to bed…

He gulps, a little, pushing away thoughts of that night. He’s grateful, a moment later, when Annabeth

sidles up to him with a glass of water. “Speeches, soon,” she says. “Are you ready?”

He nods that he is and she heads to the podium to start the announcements.

As one of the largest donors to the cause, Victor has been asked the make a speech. It’s something

that’s been scheduled for months, but since his marriage failed only days ago, he thinks he’s a bit more

of a draw tonight. People have been so curious about the fallout from the broken engagement, and this

is his first time facing the public.

Determined to give them a strong showing, Victor climbs to the podium amidst applause.

“Thank you,” Victor says, pulling his speech cards from his jacket’s inner pocket. He delivers the short,

canned speech regarding the value of community, the good work of charity, and thanking the tireless

workers who have brought so much aid to the needy widows and children that the organization

supports. It’s a speech that was likewise written months ago.

Then, he folds the cards and returns them to his pocket, speaking extemporaneously. The crowd perks

up, sensing a change.

“I’d also like to announce a development,” Victor says, “regarding the rules of the Kensington pack.”

The room buzzes with noise and Victor sees his father, seated at the front of the crowd, go pale with

fury. Pack rules are hundreds of years old and rarely changed.

Victor waits for the hubbub to die down and then continues. “Inspired by the good work that this charity

delivers to widowed mothers and children, the Kensington Pack seeks to aid other unfortunates within

the wolf community. From this day forward, Rogue wolves – men and women, along with their children

– will be allowed to apply to the Kensington pack for Beta status.”

The audience explodes with noise, immediately responding to this controversial idea with exhuberance.

Some are clearly excited, others are enraged. Two or three Alphas stride from their hall, dragging their

wives behind them. Victor smirks, watching them. Let them go.

Until now, only very progressive packs like Evelyn’s old pack – headed by Willard – would allow Rogue

wolves to join, and then barely as recognized pack members, never in important Beta positions.

“This choice,” Victor continues, “recognizes that many Rogues deserve a second chance at high-

ranking acceptance. The process will be rigorous, but the rewards will be many, for those who pass our

standards. We are very excited to be at the vanguard of this kind of societal change, which we hope

will create a better world for our packs, our communities, and our families.”

With that, Victor gives them all a broad smile, and heads down from the podium.

As he moves through the room, many sneer at him, but an equal amount shake his hand and

congratulate him on a bold new idea. Victor responds to them all with confidence and poise, showing

them that he’s not out of the game yet.

His confidence is shaken only once, though, when he turns to bump directly into John Walsh, standing

in the crowd with James Willard.

“Well well,” says Walsh. “Quite the progressive platform you’ve taken. I was under the impression that

the Kensington Pack was a more traditional, conservative pack, more akin to my own. I must say, I am

not enthused about the idea of such riffraff being allowed close to my grandchildren.”

“It’s not a progressive platform,” Willard says, narrowing his eyes at Victor. “It’s a way to build his Beta

reserves, after I gutted his pack from him.”

“In a false deal,” Victor says, calmly putting his hands in his pockets. “In which you did not deliver on

your side of the agreement. My lawyers have already begun legislation on this point – or did you not

receive the subpoena?” He c***s his head to the side, sarcastic, knowing for a fact that Willard was

served the paperwork at his home two weeks ago.

Willard sneers, his lips pulling back from his teeth. “It will go nowhere. By the time my lawyers –“

“Please,” Victor says, looking away from the two men in front of him, men who are seeking to gut his

empire and take the spoils for themselves. “It’s a party. Let’s not talk shop. Besides.” He returns his

eyes to them for just a moment, giving each of them a steely glare. “I don’t have time for you. I have an

army to build.”

With that, Victor sweeps from the room.