Pregnant With Alpha’s Genius Twins

Chapter 194

#Chapter 194 – Confessions

Outside of the house, Rafe paces back and forth in front of the line of Hummers. Victor’s Beta army – all of those who are not injured or otherwise incapacitated – are here, anxiously awaiting their orders.

A group of them continues to attack the weak entry points to the Walsh home, but they’re constantly rebuffed by the small group of Betas still fighting for control inside.

Rafe had told Victor to go full assault now – to just start raining Betas from helicopters, to go in at every point. But Victor had said it was too risky – that Walsh had Evelyn and the boys as his captives. And there was no telling what he would do to them.

But now? It was too quiet – far too quiet for far too long. He knew, deep within himself, that something had gone wrong. And he’s cracking at the strain of both wanting to act and wanting to await his brother’s orders.

“Three more minutes,” Rafe growls to himself, under his breath. That’s all they get.

He flinches, though, when he hears the loudspeakers on the cars behind him click on – all of the loudspeakers.

“Victor,” Rafe murmurs, his head spinning towards them. Only it’s not Victor’s voice that comes through.

Annabeth Prath is in her home, putting the finishing touches on dinner, when her phone rings. She picks the phone up off the counter top, frowning when she sees a strange number and the request for a video call. She ignores the call and puts it back down.

A text message comes through from the same number. “Annabeth, it’s Evelyn Ortega. Please pick up.”

Surprised, Annabeth blinks at the screen. Before she can think about the strangeness of the situation, though, the number calls again. Annabeth accepts the call, her phone switching to a video of a strange house.

Except, it’s not Evelyn on the line. It’s her son, Ian, his face unsteady on the screen. Property of Nô)(velDr(a)ma.Org.

“HI!” He says. “Would you mind, very much, please, to put your phone on mute?”

Annabeth frowns at him and opens her mouth to talk, but he interrupts.

“Please,” he says, glancing away. “It’s important – and we don’t have a lot of time.”

Annabeth realizes that the boy is walking rather quickly and that the phone’s bouncing image is a result of his quick pace.

“All right,” she says, hesitating. And then, some instinct prompts her to quickly flick on the screen recording mechanism as well. Something was happening, she could tell, and she wanted to record it just in case.

“Thank you!” the boy says, and then switches the point of view of the camera to face forward. The screen shifts to a lower angle, almost as if the boy put the phone in his pocket, the camera just peeking out from the top. From the view, Annabeth can see a woman’s thighs moving at a brisk pace towards what looks like a ruined door.

Annabeth recognizes the legs, suddenly, as those of the boy’s mother.

“Evelyn Ortega,” Annabeth murmurs, watching curiously as the woman walks through that door. “What on earth are you up to?”

“Hello, Joyce,” Evelyn says, breezing into the safe room where her father had locked her and her family up only a few hours earlier. Where he was tied, now, with Joyce at his side.

Ian and Alvin stride next to their mother, silent but confident. Alvin has his father’s radio strapped wrapped around his waist, the receiver pinned to his shoulder, just as his father wore it. Dressed all in black, he looks every bit the miniature Beta headed off to war.

Ian, next to him, looks much more like a little boy in his casual clothes, his hands folded neatly behind his back.

Joyce scowls at all three of them from his place on the floor. John Walsh does the same.

Evelyn kneels down right in front of them, the boys standing on either side of her. “Hi, dad,” Evelyn says, reaching out to loosen her father’s gag.

“Evelyn,” he spits, as soon as his mouth is free. “Untie me, immediately.”

He attempts to use his Alpha command here, but it doesn’t work on her anymore. He is no longer the Alpha of the pack. Her eyes flick to Joyce, who she does not un-gag.

“Why should I let you free, dad,” Evelyn says. “Clearly, you don’t have my best interests at heart. You imprisoned me, imprisoned my sons, tried to use me as bait to lead Victor to an easy death. Why would I untie you if you have no respect for my family or my life?”

“You owe your fealty to me, Evelyn,” John growls. “This is my pack – and Victor’s will be mine too, as soon as he dies in that basement.”

“And if Victor dies,” Evelyn says softly, holding his gaze with her own, trying to work quickly. “What will you do?”

“What I always intended to do, Evelyn,” John says bruskly. “Take control of that pack, as well as my own. Hold regency and sway over all of the packs in the region. Keep you and your mother and your sister safe, under my control.”

“And the other packs in the community?” Evelyn asks quietly, pretending to be intrigued. “What would happen to them?”

“They would fall to me eventually,” Walsh says firmly. “I will take each of them, one by one. You will have a strong place in this future, if you could just see it and trust me, as you always should have done. Now let me go, Evelyn. That man is dead, downstairs – you know it as well as me. You must join me now, or, when I get free of this, I will punish you for your betrayal.”

“How can I trust that, dad,” Evelyn says swiftly. “Even your own Betas betrayed you, switching their allegiance from you to Victor. How can I trust that you will have any power?”

“Betas,” John Walsh says, scoffing. “They are nothing. All Betas who betrayed me will be punished, put to death. There are always more Betas to be had – they are an expendable force.”

“And you,” Evelyn says, nodding and turning to Joyce. “Do you believe this as well? I need to know, before I decide where my allegiances lie.”

Slowly, Joyce nods his head.

Evelyn leans closer to him. “A little louder, please. I need verbal confirmation.” She says it sweetly, goading him.

“Yeeeeeeth,” Joyce says around the strip of fabric in his mouth. It’s not precisely a yes, but it’s certainly not a no.

“Good,” Evelyn says, nodding and standing up. “Thank you so much for making that clear to me. And to all of your expendable Betas,” she says, nodding to Alvin, who smirks and taps the radio on his shoulder. “And to all of the packs in the community, who you intend to attack next.”

Ian pulls the phone from his pocket, pointing it directly at Joyce and John now. “Say hi to Mrs. Prath!” Ian says, cheerfully.

John Walsh’s face goes slack as he realizes just how he’s been tricked. And how easily he fell into it.

“You forgot, dad,” Evelyn says, folding her arms and glaring down at him. “That a pack is nothing without the support of its Betas. And nothing without the support of the community.”

She leans down then, bringing her own face just inches from her father’s livid expression, his bared teeth, his face red with rage. “And you just let both of those populations know precisely what you think of them. You have nothing.” She turns quicky to Joyce. “And neither do you.”

Without another word, Evelyn and her sons turn as one and stride from the room.

Together, they walk down the hall and towards the back door of the house, where a group of her father’s once-loyal Betas stand, slack-jawed and speechless. Never, ever did they think that they had an Alpha who marked them as entirely expendable. Who would gladly see them dead before he gave up any of his wealth or power.

Evelyn and her boys walk through their midst without a word. The Betas make no move to stop them, turning their eyes, instead, to the two boys who now inherited their allegiance.

Then, Evelyn, Alvin, and Ian walk out into the fading sun of the day. Straight across the back yard, to where Rafe stands, shocked.