Chapter 13 - The Meeting
The next morning, the blizzard finally broke.
Pale winter sunlight streamed through the hospital windows, illuminating the sterile room.
Roman had not slept a single minute.
He had spent the night making phone calls, setting the dismantling of his underworld empire into motion.
He was handing over territories, selling illegal assets, and cutting ties with the cartels.
It would cost him billions, but he did not care.
Around noon, Dr. Evans walked into the room with a wide smile.
"Good news, Ms. Vance," the doctor said.
"You are stable enough to use a wheelchair."
"We can take you to the NICU to see your son."
Clara’s face lit up with absolute joy.
Roman helped her gently into the chair, wrapping a warm blanket around her shoulders.
He pushed her down the quiet hallway, his men following at a respectful distance.
They entered the neonatal ward, filled with the soft hum of medical machinery.
The nurse led them to a small, clear incubator in the corner.
Inside lay a tiny, perfect baby boy.
He had a head of thick dark hair, just like Roman’s.
Clara reached through the porthole, her finger gently stroking his tiny cheek.
"He is beautiful," she sobbed happily.
Roman stood behind her, resting his hands on her shoulders.
He looked down at his son, feeling a profound shift in the universe.
Every horrible thing he had ever done seemed miles away.
This tiny, fragile life was his only priority now.
"What should we name him?" Clara asked softly, looking up at Roman.
Roman swallowed hard.
"Leo," he said.
"Because he is going to be brave."
Clara smiled, leaning her head back against Roman’s chest.
May you like
"Leo Silas," she whispered.
"I love it."
