The Alpha's Omega Mistress

Fifty-One

D'Angelo

Alexis's mouth dropped open in shock and her body froze. She began speaking in fragments and losing control of herself.

Her deep howl tore through the air, startling the sonographer. Her face was so pink that I could tell that the wind was knocked out of her lungs.

“Alexis, please stop it,” I pleaded when she leaned backward onto the examination bed in a heap.

She was pregnant, and any sudden movement or stress could harm her or the baby. I wrapped my arms around her gently, trying to calm her down, mindful of her condition.

“Hush, stop crying,” I said, rubbing her back. Her body trembled against mine, and I couldn't wrap my head around why she was reacting so strongly.

She was acting like we'd received horrible news. Although I knew she was infatuated with a boy, this response surprised me more than I anticipated. It hit her so hard that she wouldn't have to be Luna.

She kept crying until I grew annoyed and pulled away from her.

“Stop overreacting. A child, boy or girl, it doesn't matter—they're gifts, all of them!"

Alexis' voice broke and she shot back, "Stop pretending like you're not happy! I know you, D'Angelo.”

"Perhaps I should step outside for a moment?" the sonographer said, appearing uncomfortable and awkward in our midst.

"No, stay. It's fine. She's just being a bit dramatic right now.”

Tears blinded her eyes and choked her voice.  "I don't know why I'm always like this... so damn unlucky.”

I cupped her chin and forced her to face me. "Listen to me, Alexis. I'm happy, truly. Whether it's a boy or a girl doesn't change a thing for me. We're going to have a healthy and beautiful baby girl. That's what matters. Don't worry about anything else."

She refused to speak to me even as I dropped her at home and I drove out to go get her a gift. Zina proposed that I purchase an art gallery for her. I then drove through the light traffic to the town's center.

There was an ideal spot close to the pack secretariat. I had a building in mind, a white one-story building behind a café.

It was ideal for the gallery and had lots of windows.  Marcus, one of the Delta males, ran an import business specializing in high-quality materials for art galleries.

We discussed the items I needed to purchase—premium canvases, frames, and specialized lighting to enhance Ashanti's paintings. We pored over samples and catalogs, talking over the different options.

Marcus promised to work on the interior, lighting, and comfortable seating areas for visitors. There and then, I signed a check.

Another idea hit me. I made a call to the lady who was renowned for her skill in designing exquisite gardens—the best horticulturist in the pack. Her name was Mrs. Green (no pun intended)

“My girlfriend loves flowers and I intend to surprise her with a flower garden at my estate. I want exotic flowers and I need them to thrive.”

“Sure alpha. You can take me to the space available so I can assess the land and determine the best types of soil and flowers for the garden.”

I agreed enthusiastically, eager for her expert guidance. She picked her kit for soil testing and a notebook filled with garden designs. We headed home and she took her time examining the land, taking soil samples, and noting the sun's path across the yard.

“This is perfect. I will not go into too much detail, but she can plant anything she wants because the soil is enriched with organic compost. I'll send you a list of the flowers I have and can get them here whenever you're ready.”