Pregnant With Alpha’s Genius Twins

Chapter 30

#Chapter 30 – Rollercoaster

“Come on, boys,” Victor says, walking unannounced into my kitchen the next day. Note to self, I think, narrowing my eyes. Get a deadbolt for the back door. “We’re taking the day off!”

Alvin and Ian throw their hands in the air, shouting with joy and excitement.

“No,” I say, my voice low. “Today is a school day. We have to go to school.”

The boys collectively moan, looking at me with pleading eyes. I glare at Victor, shaking my head, warning him not to push it. He looks at me, smirking, willing to play with fire.

“Nah, let’s skip it,” he says, and the boys cheer again. “Besides, you’ll be going to a new school soon – a better school. You can skip this one for just a little bit.”

The boys are almost hysterical now with excitement, jumping from their chairs and running to their dad. I cross my arms and shrug, admitting internally that I’ve lost this one, planning my next move.

“Fine,” I say, “where are we going.”

“We,” Victor says pointedly, placing one had on each boy’s shoulder and pulling them to him, “are going to Rollercoaster Kingdom!” The boys begin to yell, jumping up and down, not knowing what to do with their excitement.

“Great, I can’t wait,” I say, smiling, my arms still crossed, refusing to be excluded. “Let’s get ready!”

“Actually, Evelyn -” Victor says, but I interrupt him.

“Who wants to see mommy ride the BIGGEST coaster!” I shout, and Alvin and Ian join in on a chorus of “me me me!” I smirk at Victor, knowing I’ve won this round.

“Let me get my bag, then we’ll go,” I say calmly. “Should we pack a lunch?”

“I don’t know, Papa,” Alvin says, his little courage failing him as he stares up at The Grave Digger, the tallest coaster in North America.

“Ah, it’s not so bad,” Victor says, kneeling down next to him.

“Yeah, it’s safe!” Says Ian, tugging on Alvin’s shirt. “They wouldn’t let you go on it if it’s not safe!”

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to, Alvin,” I chime in. “Don’t let them peer pressure you.”

“Are you doing it, mama?” Alvin asks, his voice wavering.

I laugh a little. “No, while you do that, mommy is going to have some ice cream and sit on a bench, soaking up the sun,” I say, spreading my arms demonstratively and smiling up at the sky.

“Well, if mama won’t go,” Alvin says, his hesitance renewed.

“But mama said she was going to go on the tallest coaster,” Victor says, smiling cruelly at me. “That’s the whole reason we let her come, after all.”

“That’s true, mama!” Ian says, gasping. “You did say that!”

“And mama wouldn’t lie,” Victor says, trapping me. I glare at him. Damnit.

“Well, I don’t want to leave Alvin here all alone,” I say, grasping at straws.

“I’ll go if you go, mama,” Alvin says, reaching up to take my hand. I sigh, giving his little paw a squeeze.

“Fine,” I say. “I’m in. Let’s go.”

Fifteen minutes, we’re flying through the air, all shrieking at the top of our lungs, even Victor – the big bad Alpha – yelling like he’s about to meet his maker. The boys are laughing and screaming, and even though I know that Victor only planned this spur-of-the-moment trip to take revenge on me for rejecting the payments I can’t help but be grateful that he’s brought my boys such joy.

When we get off the roller coaster, I can’t stop laughing, my knees shaking. The boys point at me, laughing, and Victor joins in.

“Come on, bambi,” he says, affectionately throwing an arm around my shoulders. “Let’s get you that ice cream.”

The boys laugh and Alvin tugs on my shirt. “Mama, that was fun. Were you scared?”

“Yes, baby,” I say, smiling down at him. “I’m glad we did it – it’s good to be brave – but I have to say, it’s not my favorite ride.” Exclusive © material by Nô(/v)elDrama.Org.

“What do you like?” Ian says as we arrive at the ice cream booth and Victor gestures for 4 cones.

“I’m more of a swings girl,” I say, throwing my arms out and spinning around. “I like the way it feels.”

“Swings next, then,” Victor says, handing me a cone.

The boys sit in two chairs in front of Victor and Evelyn, who ride the swings side-by-side. As the ride turns, everyone slowly rises in the air and spins around, the inertia pulling the long chains of their swings taut so that they float gently in the air.

Victor watches Evelyn on the swings. She laughs, throwing her head back and putting her arms out to the side, like a bird feeling the wind under its feathers. When the ride slows and stops the boys laugh, turning around to their parents. “That was fun, mommy, I see why you like it!” Ian says, keeping his arms out.

“It was like floating!” Alvin pumps his hands in the air. “Let’s go again!”

“No, something else!” Ian says.

Victor puts a hand out for Evelyn, helping her out of her seat once she has un-buckled. He raises an eyebrow, deferring the choice to her. She laughs and shrugs. “I don’t really care, whatever you guys want.”

Victor nods. “Lead the way, captains,” he cheers, and the boys take off running. Victor and Evelyn follow.

Victor admits, silently, that he’s surprised at Evelyn’s capacity for fun today. It’s true, wanted to blow a bunch of money to show her that didn’t care where it went. But Evelyn didn’t let it bother her after they left the house – she just had fun.

It was odd, to Victor, this choice to defer her rage and prioritize the moment. But as Victor tries to puzzle it out, he realizes, suddenly, that he doesn’t care. He watches Evelyn laugh, lifting her boys onto horses on the carousel and realizes that it doesn’t matter. That what does matter is this moment, this happiness, with his boys.

Today, for the first time in a very long time, Victor feels nothing but joy.

Briskly, without much thought, Victor decided not to question it and just enjoy the day with his sons. And with Evelyn.

As the sun started to set, the boys started to flag, clearly worn out by too many hot dogs and rides that flipped them around in every direction.

“When we get home,” Evelyn says, yawning herself, “we’re going to start eating healthy. No more cake. Just vegetables for a while.”

“No vegetables, ever,” Alvin says, flatly, struggling to keep his eyes open.

“Just cake.” Ian nods, agreed.

Victor is smirking as they head to the front gates when, out of the corner of his eye, he spots someone kneeling next to a trash can, snapping pictures. Victor springs into action, immediately closing the distance between them and grabbing the man by the neck.

“Who are you,” Victor snarls, lifting the man off of his feet and shaking him like a rag doll. “Why are you taking pictures of us!?”

The man sputters, choking, clawing at Victor’s hand around his neck. “Please!” He squeaks, gasping. “Help!”

“Victor!” Evelyn says, hurrying to his side and pulling on his arm. “Stop, you’re making a scene! Let him down.”

Victor drops the man, who crumples to the ground rubbing his neck and hauling in breaths. Victor scents the air around him – an Omega from another pack. “What the hell is going on?” Victor snarls.

“I’m a…photographer…” the man says, panting, holding up a press badge. “From the Victory Review!”

“That doesn’t answer my question,” Victor says, lowering over him. “Why are you taking these pictures?”

“Your…your boys,” the man says, trembling, frightened into telling the truth. “I wanted to break the story, about your sons –“

“Who told you –“ Victor snarls, panic raising in him, making it truly dangerous for the photographer.

“I can’t reveal my sources,” the photographer mumbles, “They’ll…they’ll have my head,”

“I’ll have your head,” Victor grinds out, his canines elongating, his nails beginning to inch longer as they form into claws. Evelyn’s eyes widen, she’s never seen him lose himself like this.

“I’m sorry,” the man says, raising his hands to shield himself, uselessly. “I’ll go away, I won’t publish a thing, – I’m sorry” he babbles.

Evelyn, thinking quickly, steps forward and takes the camera. “Do you have pictures of us on anything but this?”

“No, I swear, just from today,” says the man. Evelyn nods and pops open the back of the camera, taking out the memory card.

“There,” she says, placing a hand on Victor’s shoulder. “It’s done. He can’t do any real harm.”

Victor’s teeth and hands begin to shrink back to their normal size. He snatches the man’s press badge out of his hand. “If anything comes out in the press before I’m ready to announce it, anything at all. I’m coming right to you.”

The photographer nods, frantic. Victor brushes his hand through his hair, returning to his regular self, looking around to see if anyone has noticed the scene. They are lucky here, the only ones staring at him are poor Ian and Alvin, who are frozen about ten feet away, their eyes wide with shock.

Victor curses under his breath and pull his wallet out of his pocket, taking out a wad of bills and dropping them on the photographer. “For the memory card,” he murmurs, “and for your silence.” Then he walks away.

Evelyn gives the photographer one last look, mouthing “sorry,” and then chases after Victor.

“Come on,” Victor says to his family. “We’re going home.”