Page 68 of Forced Mafia Bride
It happened so fast; no one saw it coming. Not the silver glint of cutlery slicing through the air or the swift move of the fork plunging into Viktor’s hand, pinning his fingers to the table. I watched in horror as blood, the color of wine, seeped into the tablecloth, spreading to the edges of the dishes.
“This is a fucking warning to everyone with ears to hear.” The ice in his tone transmitted chills down my spine. “No one, and I repeat, nofuckingone, has the permission to say shit about my wife or her family. You keep her out of your fucking mouth next time. Is that clear?”
Viktor didn’t respond. Red-faced and sweaty, he inhaled and exhaled with ragged breaths, rocking backward and forward with his eyes on his bloodied hand.
“I said, is that fucking clear?” Niko thundered, and Viktor nodded. “Good.”
He pulled back, and, feeling embarrassed and pressed with the overwhelming urge to cry my heart out, I started making my way to the kitchen when a pain more intense tore through every fiber of my being. My knees buckled under me, but Freya caught me before I hit the floor. My head lolled back as dizziness washed over me.
“Rosalyn? Look at me.” She tapped my cheeks, her expression serious. “How long have you been feeling this?”
“It’s been in and out,” I mumbled. “Maybe 20 minutes?”
Nikolai appeared by our side, holding my hand tightly, his eyes brimming with scorching anger and worry. “Freya, what’s happening? What’s wrong?”
“Niko, we need to get your wife to the hospital.”
Chapter 26 – Nikolai
“I’ve got you.”
“We’re going to do this together.”
Everything echoed in a torturing slow motion: the heartbeat on the monitor, the footsteps and voices of the medical team swarming around us, their efficient movements a blur, her agonizing screams when the contractions hit, the sound of her tears, her nails digging into my skin as she held on tight, fighting for our baby.Fighting for us.
The seconds seemed excruciatingly longer and more painful. Until....
Until we heard him cry.
Then, my heart stopped.
I’d heard babies cry. Heck, I helped Freya change Alina and Alexei’s diapers one time. But this was different, more personal. The wails hit my chest, snatching my breath away at the first sound, and when the nurse picked him up, his stretched-out tiny arms and legs pinched me in the gut.
Rosalyn was already fast asleep on the bed. The doctor said the pain knocked her out. So, I held the little fighter—our son.
Mine.
The last time I experienced a feeling as pumped as this was the first time I rode a motorcycle in the estate and bashed into Egor’s car on his way inside. The excitement hadn’t let me think straight. I laughed and cried at the same time, even after he punched me in the face for being reckless.
This....
This was more intense.
I stood in that hospital room, cradling my newborn son in my arms like the nurse showed me. Little Cian Nikolai, named after Rosalyn’s old man. Yet, he was a miniature version of me—same piercing eyes, same stubborn jaw.
I laughed, feeling my chest swell with pride. The moment I laid eyes on him, something shifted inside. Being a father hit me like a ton of bricks. A sudden surge of protection, of responsibility, consumed me.
I glanced over at Rosalyn, still sleeping like an angel. Gazing at her, something else stirred. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it, but this woman…she got under my skin. Maybe it was the way she smiled when I held her hand or how she fought through the pain.
I knew I loved her.
I knew I couldn’t live a day without her in it.
But even now, that love waxed greater and stronger, and it dawned on me that she wasn’t just the mother of my child; she was more. I saw it in her eyes—fire, loyalty, heart.
In that moment, I knew I’d do anything to keep her and Cian Nikolai safe. Anything.
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