Knotted By The Devilish Alpha Brothers

Chapter 54: Chapter 54: make babies for me

Morning light filtered through the curtains. Amelia woke with a dull ache in her shoulder and the distinct discomfort of hard floor under her hip. She blinked blearily at the ceiling, then groaned.

”Of course. Night Menace could break handles and handle grown men, but putting me back on the bed was apparently too much work.”

Swifty was still tucked against her side. Amelia turned her head and gave the bird a tired look. ”What, you didn’t want me to feel left out sleeping on the floor alone?”

The silver bird only blinked.

She pushed herself up on sore legs, joints complaining, and reached for the phone. The screen stayed black. Dead.

”Really?” she muttered, plugging it in with more force than necessary. ”You record a whole mysterious message and then forget to leave the thing charged? Outstanding work.”

While the phone drank power, she forced herself through her morning routine. Every few seconds her eyes drifted back to the charging device. Anxiety sat tight under her ribs. What did she say? Did she finally give me real answers?

By the time she finished dressing in a simple blouse and trousers and packed her school bag, the phone still hadn’t turned on. She was reaching for it when a firm knock sounded at the door.

Amelia opened it expecting Skye’s sharp green eyes. Instead a maid stood there, posture perfect. ”You are to have breakfast with the masters in the dining hall.”

She wasn’t surprised since madame was still in the estate. The perfect-fake-wife performance had to continue. Amelia swallowed her irritation, picked up both bag and phone, and followed the maid downstairs.

The dining hall was already occupied. The three brothers sat in their usual places. Madame occupied the head of the table. Amelia dipped her head respectfully. ”Madame.”

The older woman’s expression was not the usual cool assessment. Worry softened the lines around her eyes. ”How are you feeling, child? Yesterday must have been deeply traumatizing.”

Amelia cast a quick glance toward the three men, then answered in the gentlest voice she could manage. ”I was frightened... more than I’ve ever been. But my partners protected me. Because of them I wasn’t nearly as terrified as I should have been.”

Madame’s face eased into something close to approval. Amelia took her seat. A plate was set in front of her; she began eating with more hunger than elegance.

Madame set her cup down with a soft click. ”The entire territory is talking about the chemistry between you and my sons. Some of the guests admitted they were ready to drag their own partners into the nearest private corner after watching the three of you together.”

Amelia inhaled a piece of toast the wrong way and started coughing hard. Enzo’s hand settled at her at once, burping her, as though helping her clear her airway. Across the table, Reid and Dean both wore the same briefly stunned expression—caught off guard by how openly their mother was speaking.

Enzo calmly replied. ”That’s a good thing, mother. No one will question the relationship we have with our wife.”

Madame gave a small, satisfied nod. ”I’m glad. I had my doubts before. They’re cleared now.”

Enzo turned his attention fully to Amelia, hand still resting against her back. ”Are you all right?”

She reached for her water glass, took a careful sip, and managed to say ”I’m fine now.”

The residual warmth of his palm lingered far longer than it should have. A low, unwanted tingle spread across her skin, settling deeper than simple surprise.

Madame set her utensils down. ”We need to investigate how those intruders breached the ceremony grounds. And where is Rue? Isn’t security her responsibility? I’m very disappointed she allowed this to happen.”

”Rue was heavily attacked,” Enzo replied. ”She’s recovering. Once she’s conscious we’ll get a full report.”

Madame’s expression made it clear the answer didn’t satisfy her. She resumed eating. ”I’ve never liked that woman. She better gives us a reasonable excuse on why the ceremony was ruined.”

When Amelia finished her plate and began to rise, Enzo’s fingers closed lightly around her wrist, holding her in place. She glanced at him in confusion—until he leaned in and pressed a slow and deep kiss to her cheek.

His voice dropped. ”Take care of yourself. Midterms are in two days. We’ll give you a few free nights... no dragging you into our beds, no hands under your clothes, no making you shake apart for us. Try not to miss it too much.”

Heat flared low in her stomach so sharply she almost swayed. Her core throbbed once, traitorous and insistent. All she could do was nod.

She stood. Reid stepped in next, brushing his lips against her other cheek. Dean followed, the brief press of his mouth cooler but no less lingering. At the head of the table Madame watched the entire exchange with undisguised pleasure, the earlier tension in her shoulders visibly easing.

”See her off,” she told her sons.

The walk from the dining hall to the waiting car felt endless. Amelia kept her gaze forward, one hand half-raised as if she could physically block the flush still burning across her face. She climbed into the back seat without looking back and immediately pressed her fingers to her heated cheeks.

Outside, Madame and the three brothers remained at the top of the steps, watching until the vehicle passed through the main gates and disappeared down the road. Madame’s voice broke the silence. ”Once she finishes school, the three of you should settle properly... and give me some grandbabies.”

”What?”

The word came out of all three brothers at the exact same time.

Dean stared at her as if she had just announced the end of the world. ”You’re joking. Please tell me you’re joking.”

The slight lift of one eyebrow made it clear she was not.

Reid dragged a hand down his face. ”What in the actual hell brought this on? Isn’t having the three of us as sons already more than enough lifelong punishment? We’ve given you so many perfectly reasonable reasons to throw us off a cliff over the years. You really want to sign up for another generation of that?”

Madame actually laughed—a short, genuine sound that rarely left her. ”I’m still actively contemplating the cliff option, don’t worry. I’ve simply postponed it.”

Her amusement faded into something more deep. ”I’m lonely. Most of the women my age are already surrounded by grandchildren. I watch them and feel... left out. I had accepted years ago that I would never have any of my own, because my sons are emotionally unavailable, commitment-phobic disasters who turned every arranged introduction into a diplomatic incident. But now you actually have a wife—something I was convinced was statistically impossible after the long trail of failed dates and terrified candidates. So yes. I would like grandbabies.”