Chapter 7 - THE BABY BORN DURING A WAR
Damian Vale had negotiated hostage exchanges.
He had faced federal investigators.
He had once sat across from three men who planned to kill him and convinced two of them to kill the third.
None of that prepared him for Elena going into labor.
“Breathe.”
“I AM BREATHING!”
“Right.”
“You keep saying that!”
“I’m trying to help.”
“You’re making it worse!”
Gunfire cracked downstairs.
Damian spoke into his earpiece.
“Status.”
“Three intruders down. More outside.”
Elena grabbed his wrist.
“If you leave this room, Damian Vale, I swear I will personally kill you before they do.”
“I’m not leaving.”
“Good.”
Another contraction hit.
She screamed into the pillow.
Arthur sat in his wheelchair near the doorway, surrounded by two armed guards.
He lifted one hand.
“Hospital.”
“Roads are blocked,” Damian said.
The attack had taken out the nearest vehicles.
Someone wanted Arthur dead before Evelyn Price could testify.
Sebastian had already warned them.
Evelyn had not worked alone.
The conspiracy reached into Vale security.
Possibly law enforcement.
Possibly farther.
But none of that mattered to Damian while Elena squeezed his hand hard enough to break bones.
A private physician arrived twenty-two minutes later through a secure underground entrance.
“You have got to be kidding me,” Elena gasped when she saw him.
Dr. Hannah Reeves removed her coat.
“I delivered Damian.”
Elena stared at Damian.
“You called the woman who delivered you?”
“She’s the best.”
“This family is insane.”
Arthur said clearly, “Yes.”
Even Elena laughed.
Four hours later, at 4:17 a.m., while police lights filled Beacon Hill and armed men secured the street outside, Elena gave birth to a daughter.
Six pounds, eight ounces.
Dark hair.
Furious lungs.
Perfect.
The moment Hannah placed the baby against Elena’s chest, the world disappeared.
Elena cried.
Not quietly.
Not gracefully.
She kissed the tiny forehead over and over.
“Hi.”
The baby screamed.
“I know.”
Damian stood near the bed.
Motionless.
Elena looked up.
“You can come closer.”
He hesitated.
For the first time since she met him, Damian looked genuinely frightened.
“Damian.”
He approached.
“Meet Grace.”
The name had come to Elena two months earlier.
Grace.
Something undeserved and still given.
Damian stared at the baby.
“She’s very small.”
“That’s generally how they arrive.”
“Can she breathe properly?”
“Yes.”
“She’s red.”
“She’s angry.”
“She looks—”
His voice broke.
Elena saw it.
So did Arthur.
Damian turned away.
Elena reached for his hand.
“Hey.”
He looked back.
“Would you like to hold her?”
“I’ve never held a newborn.”
“She doesn't know.”
“That’s not reassuring.”
Elena carefully placed Grace into his arms.
Damian stopped breathing.
“Support her head.”
“I am.”
“Not like she’s an unexploded bomb.”
“She feels like one.”
Grace stopped crying.
Her tiny hand opened.
Closed around Damian’s finger.
Damian stared at it.
Then something inside the most feared man in the room simply broke.
A tear rolled down his cheek.
He did not wipe it away.
Arthur watched from across the room.
“Damian.”
His son looked up.
Arthur struggled.
“Good… man.”
Damian’s eyes closed.
Those two words did something eighteen years of power never could.
He bowed his head over Grace.
And cried.
Elena watched him.
That was the moment she knew she was in trouble.
Not because Damian Vale was dangerous.
May you like
Not because his family carried secrets.
But because she had begun to love him.
