Chapter 8 - THE NIGHT THEIR DAUGHTER CAME EARLY
The hospital became a fortress.
Nathan coordinated security with Chicago police.
Every entrance was monitored.
Every nurse entering Emma’s room was verified.
Adrian remained beside her.
“Go,” Emma whispered during a contraction.
“No.”
“Evelyn is coming for you too.”
“Then she knows where to find me.”
“Adrian.”
“I missed every heartbeat except the last few weeks.”
His fingers tightened around hers.
“I’m not missing this.”
The induction progressed quickly.
Too quickly.
By 10:17 p.m., Emma’s contractions were less than three minutes apart.
Adrian discovered there were forms of helplessness worse than facing a gun.
He could do nothing.
Could not negotiate with pain.
Could not threaten it.
Could not purchase its disappearance.
He could only hold Emma’s hand while she crushed his fingers.
“You’re breaking them,” he murmured.
“Good.”
Another contraction hit.
She nearly folded.
Adrian immediately regretted speaking.
“Break whatever you want.”
Dr. Sloan smiled.
Hours passed.
At 11:41, the fetal monitor changed.
Dr. Sloan looked toward it.
Emma saw her expression.
“What?”
“Baby’s heart rate dipped.”
Adrian went pale.
“It recovered,” Sloan said. “We’re watching.”
Then it dipped again.
This time longer.
The room filled with staff.
Emma’s fear exploded.
“What’s happening?”
“We may need a C-section.”
Adrian stood beside her head.
“Look at me.”
Tears filled Emma’s eyes.
“What if she—”
“No.”
“You don’t know.”
“No, I don’t.”
He pressed his forehead to hers.
“But she’s surrounded by people fighting for her. So are you.”
A nurse entered urgently.
“Nathan Briggs needs Mr. Moretti outside.”
“I’m not leaving.”
The nurse hesitated.
“He says they found Evelyn.”
Emma looked at Adrian.
“Go.”
“No.”
“Adrian.”
“She needs me.”
“And I need you to make sure Evelyn never gets near her.”
He hesitated.
Emma touched his cheek.
“Go.”
For once, she was the one giving the order.
He kissed her forehead.
“I’ll be back.”
Adrian found Nathan twenty feet down the corridor.
“She’s in the building.”
“How?”
“Fake identification. She came in through an employee entrance before lockdown.”
“Where?”
“We lost camera coverage near the west stairwell.”
Adrian looked toward Emma’s room.
“Find her.”
Then a fire alarm sounded.
Lights flashed.
Doors opened.
People moved into hallways.
Nathan cursed.
“Distraction.”
Adrian ran back toward Emma.
The room was empty.
His heart stopped.
“Emma?”
A nurse rushed toward him.
“They moved her to surgery!”
Adrian ran.
At the secure surgical corridor, a woman in scrubs stood beside a cart.
Mask.
Cap.
Something about her eyes stopped him.
Evelyn.
She reached into the cart.
Adrian moved first.
He slammed the cart sideways.
A handgun struck the floor.
Nathan’s men surged forward.
Evelyn screamed as they restrained her.
“You fool! That child will destroy everything!”
Adrian stared down at the woman who had helped raise him.
“No.”
His voice was calm.
“She already saved it.”
Police took Evelyn away.
Adrian ran to surgery.
A nurse stopped him long enough to put on sterile clothing.
Inside, Emma was awake behind a surgical drape.
“Where were you?”
“Long story.”
“Is she—”
“Gone.”
Emma closed her eyes.
Adrian sat beside her.
Then everything became movement.
Doctors talking.
Machines beeping.
Pressure.
Fear.
And suddenly—
A cry.
Small.
Angry.
Perfect.
Emma sobbed.
Adrian stopped breathing.
Their daughter cried again.
Dr. Sloan lifted a tiny pink-faced baby above the drape.
“Congratulations.”
Adrian covered his mouth.
Emma was crying openly.
“Is she okay?”
“She’s beautiful.”
The baby was taken for evaluation.
Adrian followed with his eyes until Emma grabbed his wrist.
“Stay.”
He looked at her.
Then sat.
“I’m here.”
Their daughter weighed five pounds, fourteen ounces.
Small but healthy.
She needed monitoring because she was early, but she breathed without assistance.
When the nurse finally placed her against Emma’s chest, Adrian stared.
Emma looked exhausted.
Sweaty.
Pale.
Beautiful.
“Come closer,” she whispered.
Adrian did.
The baby opened dark eyes.
Adrian touched one tiny hand.
Her fingers closed around his.
He broke.
Completely.
His shoulders shook.
Emma watched tears fall down the face Chicago feared.
“Hi,” Adrian whispered.
Their daughter gripped him harder.
“I’m your dad.”
Emma smiled through tears.
“We need a name.”
Adrian looked at her.
“You choose.”
“We choose.”
That word again.
We.
They had discussed names years earlier, before their marriage collapsed.
One had always remained Emma’s favorite.
“Lucia?”
Adrian’s expression softened.
His mother’s name.
“Lucia Bennett Moretti?”
Emma nodded.
He kissed Emma’s forehead.
“Perfect.”
Outside, dawn began turning Lake Michigan silver.
Evelyn was in custody.
Carlo was cooperating.
The criminal empire was unraveling.
Everything Adrian had once believed defined him was disappearing.
Yet sitting beside Emma while their daughter slept between them, Adrian felt richer than he ever had in his glass tower.
Emma looked at him.
“Adrian?”
“Yes?”
“I’m still angry with you.”
He laughed softly.
“I know.”
“I haven’t forgiven everything.”
“I know.”
“And this doesn’t mean we’re married again.”
“I know.”
She studied him.
“But you can stay.”
His smile disappeared.
Emotion replaced it.
“For how long?”
Emma looked down at Lucia.
“Until I tell you to leave.”
Adrian leaned back in the chair.
“Then I’ll spend every day giving you reasons not to.”
Emma rolled her eyes.
But she was smiling.
Neither noticed the man standing beyond the glass observation window.
Nathan did.
He moved toward him.
The stranger handed him an envelope.
“For Adrian Moretti.”
Nathan frowned.
“From whom?”
The man walked away.
Inside the envelope was an old photograph.
Adrian’s father.
Carlo.
Evelyn.
And a fourth man whose face Adrian had not seen in fifteen years.
May you like
On the back someone had written:
EVELYN DIDN’T ORDER THE CRASH ALONE.
