Chapter 8 - THE DELIVERY ROOM IN THE DARK
The power inside the cottage had completely failed, leaving the small bedroom lit only by the eerie, flickering glow of two emergency candles Dominic had managed to find in the pantry.
Nora lay on her narrow guest bed, soaked in sweat, screaming through a contraction that felt like it was tearing her body apart. Dominic knelt beside her on the hardwood floor, his tailored shirt ruined, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, his hands moving with steady, terrifying precision as he guided her through the final stages of labor.
"Push, Lena," Dominic urged, his voice thick with emotion, his eyes locked onto hers with a fierce, unyielding devotion. "You're doing it. One more push, my perfect girl. Just once more."
"I can't!" she sobbed, arching her back against the mattress.
"You can," he whispered, wiping a damp strand of hair from her forehead. "You are the strongest person I have ever known. Push for our baby."
With a final, earth-shattering cry, Nora pushed with every ounce of strength she had left in her body.
The sharp, sudden sound of a baby's cry pierced through the howling wind of the blizzard outside.
Dominic froze for a fraction of a second, his hands trembling as he caught the tiny, squirming infant, wrapping him instantly in a clean flannel blanket. The harsh, cold aura of the mafia boss completely dissolved, leaving behind a raw, broken man as he looked down at the tiny face.
May you like
He looked up at Nora, tears spilling freely over his cheeks.
"It's a boy," Dominic choked out, his voice shaking. "He's perfect, Lena. He's absolutely perfect."
