Pregnant With Alpha’s Genius Twins

#Chapter 81 – Confrontation

Victor: Home in about an hour, do you want to have dinner?

Victor stares at the text on his phone. The messaging system lets him know that Amelia has read it, but

not responded. He sighs, tucking his phone away in his pocket as his town car pulls into the club. For

the past twenty-four hours Amelia has given him the silent treatment, but she hasn’t left.

Honestly, he doesn’t know what’s really going on.

The car rolls to a stop in his reserved parking spot and Victor sighs as he steps out, looking up at the

sports club of which he is a member. He hardly eve comes here, but it’s convenient for events. For

instance, his bachelor party will be held here tonight, and he’s come early to ensure that everything is

in order according to his liking.

Bachelor party, he thinks, shaking his head as he walks through the front door. Am I even getting

married? Yesterday I told her that she –

“Kensington.”

Victor stops dead at the voice. Not because it’s a sound he’s heard it all his life, but rather because it’s

one whose words are seared in his memory. Victor turns and coldly meets the eyes of John Walsh,

seated in a chair at the entrance. Waiting from him.

“We need to talk, Kensington.” Walsh says with perfect calm.

Victor’s lips raise in a snarl.

Ten minutes later, they’re seated together in a corner of the club’s Alpha-only bar, a room that is dark

with leather and brass. A waiter looks anxiously between them while delivering the two glasses of

whiskey that they ordered. Neither Victor nor Walsh touches their glass, staring at each other instead.

Victor had truly considered gutting Walsh the moment he saw him at the front of the club. Only three

words had stopped him.

“Amelia called me,” John had said, a dirty smirk on his face.

The words had halted Victor in his tracks. He wanted Walsh gone – out of his life, out of this world,

frankly – but he had to know what Amelia had done, what she had given this man.

“You think I’m here as some kind of nasty little trick,” Walsh says, breaking the silence and leaning

forward to clasp his tumbler of whiskey. He leans back in his leather chair, studying Victor, who says

nothing. “You’re wrong, Kensington. I’m not.”

Victor fights his surprise, not letting it show on his face or in his body. Instead, he merely narrows his

eyes. What’s Walsh’s game?

“The fact is, Victor,” Walsh says, rankling Victor with his familiarity, “that we’re actually on the same

side.”

Victor remains steadily silent.

“Yes, your little woman called me,” Walsh continues, casually spinning the whiskey in his glass,

dismissing Amelia’s call with both his words and his actions. “She cried to me about Evelyn on your

couch, about the boys constantly underfoot, begged me to take them away from you, again.”

Victor seethes inwardly, but lets Walsh continue. He needs all the details.

“Frankly, Victor, like I said – you have to get that woman under control.” Walsh smirks at him here. “For

an Alpha, you certainly do let her run roughshod over you.”

“I –“ Victor snaps.

“No no,” John interrupts, his denial magnanimous. “Don’t lose your temper, Victor – I understand.

These women, they can be difficult. Especially the high-spirited ones, which clearly seem to be your

type.”

Walsh raises his eyebrow here and again smirks at Victor, who forces himself to settle back into his

chair. He’s ashamed of himself for rising to Walsh’s bait.

“Still,” Walsh says, looking Victor up and down. “You can’t have your woman running off to another

Alpha for help every time you have a disagreement. It doesn’t look good, and one of these times,

someone’s going to take her up on her offer.”

“What is this meeting about.” Victor speaks the words through clenched teeth.

“I want to come to a peaceful place with you, Victor!” Walsh says, giving him a broad smile. “We have a

responsibility, now, to create a better environment for those boys, for our mutual heirs. Quite frankly, I’m

disturbed by your Amelia’s suggestion that they be sent away to Colorado, of all places.”

“The boys are going nowhere,” Victor says, reaching forward to take his own glass of whiskey. Walsh is

right. As much as he hates it – the timing, especially, as well as the impetus – this is a conversation he

and Walsh need to have. Legally, the boys bind their two packs together.

“I concur,” Walsh continues. “The best place for them is with you, in your private home. If you were truly

unwilling to raise them by hand – and I believe that you are – then I would, of course, accept them into

my own.” Walsh nods reasonably at this.

“Then what is the problem,” Victor says, shaking his head. “If we agree that the boys should tay with

me, why surprise me with this little…chat. Today.”

“The problem,” Walsh says, leaning forward to put his elbows on his knees. “Is that little b***h you plan

to marry. Amelia.”

Victor leans forward with a snarl. “Leave her name out of your mouth –“

“Look what she’s done to you, Victor. How she betrays you,” Walsh hisses. “Trying to get rid of your

children, so that she can replace them with her own? Children which will surely be inferior to the ones

that Evelyn has given you, can still give you.”

“We’ve discussed this already,” Victor grinds out. “Not that it is your business, but Amelia is my mate.

We are to be married next week, and it is final.”

“Oh, but it very much is my business.” Walsh says, his wicked smile growing. “Those boys are the

future of my line, will inherit my business and all that I have. I will not have them raised to believe they

are second-class citizens, with a woman who sees them as inferior to her own whelps.”

“Amelia will fall in line,” Victor growls, but he hears his voice falter as he says it. It’s words he’s been

saying for months, but in all of those months…it’s never happened. Amelia has refused, at every turn,

to fall in line with his commands and his wishes.

“You’ve cornered that b***h,” Walsh says, his voice fierce. “And when a b***h is cornered, she bites.

She becomes unpredictable in her fear, her fury. You have no idea what she’ll do next. Even call her

husbands enemy, the man who seeks to take everything from him. Asking for help.”

Walsh sits back, smug.

Victor stares into his whiskey, his mind screaming. He knows he has been cornered, by Walsh, by this

whole situation.

“Your best choice,” Walsh continues, slowly, “is to take Evelyn.” He pauses and sits back in his chair,

letting Victor mull it over. “That b***h Amelia will betray you at every turn, but Evelyn? I raised her to be

loyal. She would never have betrayed Joyce if he had not betrayed her first, that stupid man.”

Walsh takes a long, angry drink of his whiskey. “Evelyn was an impetuous fool, with what she did after.

But had he only been more discreet…she would have been a good wife. She would be a good wife to

you.” Walsh fixes Victor with his glare. “A better wife than Amelia.”

Walsh finishes his drink and stands up. “I’m not going to pretend that this advice is unselfish,” he

continues, buttoning his coat. “If you take Evelyn as your bride, marry her as you should, then I gain

significant control.

“But I am not wrong,” Walsh continues, looking down at Victor with contempt, “When I say that this is

the situation that benefits you as well. Your b***h, Amelia – she is out for herself first. She’ll burn your

entire world down until she gets her way. Evelyn, perhaps, is just as willful. But I raised her to be an

Alpha’s wife. Your visions for your future lives are aligned.”

With that, Walsh strides away, every line of his body arrogant. Victor watches him go, hating him.

Hating him for cornering him like this, for using his newfound connections to his grandsons, for his

interference in Victor’s personal affairs.

But Victor hates him most because he wonders, truly, if Walsh is right. Evelyn is the woman who shares

his love of family, who wants children, who marks a clear line to the future he’s always wanted. And

Amelia…is out of line.