Chapter 10 - A Daughter of Her Own
Z
Elena went into labor on a snowy Thursday night.
Naturally, it began during an argument.
Not a cruel argument.
Not the kind that left her feeling small.
But an argument nevertheless.
Adrian had insisted on installing another security camera near the cottage driveway.
Elena had told him the existing system was enough.
Adrian had said he wanted to be prepared.
Elena had crossed her arms and replied, “You cannot turn our child into a security operation.”
Then her water broke.
For three full seconds, neither of them moved.
Elena looked down.
Adrian looked down.
Then Adrian’s face turned white.
“Oh my God.”
Elena almost laughed despite the contraction beginning deep in her body.
“Adrian,” she said through clenched teeth, “get the hospital bag.”
He ran in the wrong direction.
“Adrian!”
“I’m getting it!”
“That’s the laundry room!”
He returned thirty seconds later holding a blanket, a baby book, and one of Elena’s shoes.
Elena stared at him.
“You are terrible in a crisis.”
“I know.”
“Your daughter is coming.”
“I know.”
“And you brought me one shoe.”
“I panicked.”
The next contraction hit.
Elena grabbed the edge of the kitchen counter and breathed hard.
Adrian was beside her instantly.
His hand hovered near her back.
“Can I?”
Elena nodded.
He pressed his palm gently against her lower back.
“I’m here,” he whispered.
This time, she believed him.
At the hospital, Adrian stayed through every hour.
He did not answer calls from lawyers.
He did not answer Marcus.
He did not look at his phone once unless Elena told him to.
He held her hand while she cursed him, cursed the hospital bed, cursed every man who had ever said childbirth was beautiful.
“You did this to me,” she accused between contractions.
Adrian nodded solemnly. “I did.”
“I hate you.”
“I understand.”
“I might never forgive you.”
“I understand that too.”
Then Elena squeezed his hand so hard that Adrian had to bite his lip not to cry out.
“Are you okay?” she asked breathlessly.
“Yes,” he lied.
After fourteen hours, exhaustion blurred everything.
Then, at 6:42 a.m., their daughter was born.
The first sound she made was small.
Then fierce.
A sharp cry that filled the delivery room and seemed to split Adrian’s heart wide open.
Elena began crying immediately.
So did Adrian.
The nurse placed the baby against Elena’s chest.
She was tiny and warm and impossibly real.
Her dark hair was damp against her head. Her fingers curled around Elena’s thumb.
“Hello,” Elena whispered.
Adrian stood beside the bed, unable to speak.
Elena looked up at him.
“Do you want to hold her?”
His eyes filled again.
“Can I?”
Elena smiled weakly.
“Yes.”
The nurse placed the baby in Adrian’s arms.
For a man who had once been feared by an entire city, he looked terrified.
He held their daughter as though she were made of glass.
“She’s perfect,” he whispered.
Elena watched him.
In that moment, she saw no mafia boss.
No heir.
No powerful man protecting a crumbling empire.
She saw a father.
Their daughter opened her eyes briefly.
Adrian laughed through tears.
“She has your eyes.”
“She can’t possibly have my eyes yet.”
“She does.”
Elena smiled.
“What should we call her?” he asked.
They had talked about names for months but never settled on one.
Elena looked at the snow falling softly beyond the hospital window.
Then she looked at the little girl in Adrian’s arms.
“Livia,” she said.
Adrian repeated it quietly.
“Livia Vale.”
Elena shook her head.
“Livia Marlowe.”
Adrian looked at her.
The old Adrian might have argued.
Might have seen it as rejection.
But this Adrian only nodded.
“Livia Marlowe,” he said, smiling. “Perfect.”
A week later, Elena returned to the cottage with Livia.
Adrian carried the car seat inside as though it contained the world.
Marcus arrived with flowers and a stuffed bear bigger than the baby.
Claire arrived with food, blankets, and a list of rules titled HOW TO KEEP ELENA ALIVE DURING NEW MOTHERHOOD.
For the first time, the cottage was full.
Not with fear.
Not with guards or secrets.
With people.
With laughter.
With the beginning of something new.
That night, after everyone left, Elena found Adrian standing beside Livia’s crib.
“She’s asleep,” he whispered.
“I know.”
“I keep checking if she’s breathing.”
“That is apparently normal.”
Adrian looked down at their daughter.
“I don’t know how to deserve this.”
Elena stepped beside him.
“You don’t deserve her because you’re powerful,” she said. “You deserve her because you show up.”
Adrian looked at Elena.
“And you?”
She took a slow breath.
“I’m still deciding.”
He nodded.
“I’ll keep showing up.”
May you like
For once, Elena did not need a larger promise.
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