Chapter 14
“Hold on, sweetheart. Just hold on!”
Lucas carried Bella to his bullet-riddled SUV. He drove like a madman, weaving through the deserted midnight streets of Chicago, blowing through every red light. He had the private doctor on speakerphone.
“The stress induced early labor,” Dr. Evans yelled through the phone. “Get her to the safehouse clinic immediately, I am prepping the OR!”
Bella screamed in the passenger seat, her nails digging into the leather armrest. “It hurts, Lucas! It hurts too much!”
“Look at me,” he commanded, reaching over to grip her thigh. “You are a Moretti. You survived the fire. You survived the slums. You survived me. You are not giving up now. Do you hear me?”
His words grounded her. She squeezed her eyes shut and focused on her breathing.
They skidded to a halt outside the clinic. Lucas kicked the doors open, carrying her straight into the operating room. For the next three hours, the ruthless mafia boss didn't leave her side. He let her break two of his fingers as she squeezed his hand during the final contractions.
And then, a sound pierced the sterile room.
A loud, healthy, furious cry.
Dr. Evans smiled over the blue surgical drape. “It’s a boy, Mr. Drake.”
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They cleaned the baby and placed him on Bella’s chest. Lucas leaned over, tears streaming down his scarred face, and kissed Bella’s forehead. He reached out with a trembling finger, and the tiny baby instantly wrapped his microscopic fist around it.
“We’ll call him Leo,” Bella whispered exhausted. “Leo Moretti-Drake.”
