All Chapters of The Billionaire's Twins Play Matchmaker: Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

“Miss Macey?” Stephen prompted when she didn’t reply. “Is everything all right?” “Yes. Sorry. I’m calling because dad wanted to know when I went into labor. Well, I am. In labor.” “Are you all right? Are you alone? Do you need me to make calls for you? Arrange transportation?” “No. It’s fine. Vicki is here. She’s calling the hospital and a cab is on the way. We’ll be heading to the hospital shortly.” “Understood. I’ll arrange transportation for Mister DaLair. He’ll be there as soon as he is able.” “Oh, you don’t have to do that. I mean…” “Mister DaLair insists. I will let you know his ETA as soon as I confirm it.” “…Okay.” “Come on Macey. We got to go.” Victoria said, hauling the prepared duffle bag out of the entry closet where it had been stashed for the last two months. Though Victoria might have momentarily panicked, she was once again in control. “Right.

Leaving off further insults, Victoria paused long enough to toss money at their driver before returning to Macey’s side and helping her to the entrance. Macey winced as she walked. She wasn’t certain if she could say she was in any great amount of pain, but she felt bloated and uncoordinated. Luckily, as soon as they entered, the forewarned maternity ward was ready to receive her, offering a wheelchair. Macey sank into it gratefully as Victoria wheeled her to the front desk to check in. “Papiers d’identité?” the nurse at the desk asked.[1] Macey nodded, signaling Victoria to open the end pocket of the duffle where her passport and ID had been stashed in the event their departure to the hospital was less than organized. Somehow, she wasn’t terribly surprised it had come to this, though the wild ride was certainly not part of her plan. “Oh good, I didn’t miss you two!” Macey turned in surprise to see Paul hurrying to join them, saying

“Macey? Oh she’s asleep.” The male voice roused Victoria from her own nap. Looking up, she saw a rather elderly gentleman shadowed by another at the door. It took her a moment, but she eventually recognized Stephen, which meant the other was Macey’s infamous father-in-law. Without a word of explanation, the gentleman entered and immediately walked to the bed. Victoria shifted ready to protest, but held herself in check as the man gently patted Macey’s head and smoothed her hair as he fondly gazed at her. “How long has it been since the doctor was here?” the man asked without looking up. When Victoria didn’t answer, he glanced at her. “How long?” “Fifteen minutes. She’s still only about six centimeters,” Victoria said. The man glanced at his watch and sighed. At least he hadn’t missed it. Patting Macey’s hand, he moved to another chair and sat down, waving off his assistant who quietly went to a corner until needed.

One moment of weakness and his life was sliding out from under him. Pouring another drink, Julius returned to his desk. But really it started falling apart long before that. Hesitating, he unlocked the bottom drawer to remove a small velvet-lined box and a folder. Taking another sip of his drink, he opened the folder. On top was a pack of papers: divorce papers. Lying on top of that was a short note written in a careful scrawl. He was taken back to that night six years ago.* * * Slam! “Macey! How dare you ignore my calls!” Julius shouted as he stumbled into the apartment. “Macey! Don’t ignore me! We’re not done talking!” He made it through the entry, past the kitchen, tossing his keys and phone on the counter without really seeing it or the items left on it. Julius skirted the living room as he headed toward the bedroom. If he had been sober he might have realized it was too quiet and no one would be able to ignore his drunken rantin

“Julius, you look like hell.” With a sigh, he turned to face an older version of himself. March was ten years his senior, and growing up the brothers had been quite close. Their connection remained to this day. Standing next to each other, it was not difficult to see the family resemblance: sandy blonde hair, gray eyes, prominent nose, chin and jaw. They could almost be twins. Julius gave his brother a warning look before sipping his whiskey. All around them were people dressed in fine suits and summer dresses despite the lingering chill. The air had a party feel with balloons and even a DJ as they crowded the wide, stone patio surrounding the pool of the DaLair family estate. A large sign declared: Happy Birthday, Augustus! At sixty-five, the DaLair’s reigning patriarch was as domineering as ever. Despite losing his much loved wife to cancer thirty years prior, Augustus soldiered on with a sharp mind and cutting wit. He was known to be ru