Chapter 16 - The First Cry In The Mountain Sanctuary
The quiet and peaceful afternoon air was completely and instantly shattered by the sharp and sudden onset of sudden,
intense labor contractions that hit me like a violent wave.
I gasped loudly,
my hands gripping the edge of the expensive wooden dresser as a sharp pain radiated through my lower back.
Marcus Hale, who was stationed just outside the heavily secured nursery,
appeared instantly at the doorway with a look of absolute,
laser-focused urgency on his face.
"Are you alright,
Mrs. Moretti?"
he asked,
his deep voice completely steady despite the sudden crisis.
"The baby...
it's coming,
Marcus,"
I breathed out heavily,
struggling to keep my voice calm as another wave of pain washed over me.
Without wasting a single fraction of a second,
Marcus was already speaking into his encrypted communication device.
"Code Red,
medical team to the east wing immediately.
The baby is arriving."
Within moments,
the private medical suite inside our mountain estate became a whirlwind of highly trained professionals moving with absolute precision.
The secure private helicopter was already warming its engines on the rooftop pad,
though our elite in-house medical staff confirmed there was more than enough advanced equipment right here to handle a completely safe delivery.
Just as the contractions grew stronger and more frequent,
the heavy security doors at the front of the estate flew open.
Adrian had received the encrypted emergency alert while half-way downtown,
and his armored convoy had broken every speed record in the city to get back to the sanctuary.
He burst into the medical suite,
his expensive suit jacket discarded somewhere behind him,
his white shirt soaked through with sweat and absolute terror.
"Claire!"
he roared,
his voice cracking with a level of raw,
unfiltered panic that nobody in the criminal underworld would have ever believed the fearless Chicago Wolf was capable of feeling.
He rushed to the side of the bed,
ignoring the doctors and nurses as he dropped heavily to his knees.
"I'm right here,
Adrian,"
I cried out,
squeezing his large,
calloused hands so tightly my knuckles turned white.
"I'm right here with you,
my love,"
he vowed fiercely,
pressing his warm lips against my damp forehead over and over again.
For hours,
he never left my side,
his strength and unwavering devotion acting as the ultimate anchor through the intense physical storm.
And then,
just as the evening sun began to paint the sky in deep shades of gold and crimson,
a sharp,
lusty cry echoed through the bright medical suite.
The doctor smiled brightly,
lifting a tiny,
wriggling bundle wrapped in a soft white blanket.
"Congratulations,
Mr. and Mrs. Moretti.
You have a healthy,
strong baby boy."
Adrian stared at the tiny infant in the doctor's arms,
his dark eyes welling up with thick,
May you like
unhedged tears of absolute,
overwhelming joy.
