CHAPTER 302

CHAPTER 302
ALEXANDER

I peppered Alina’s face and hairline with soft kisses, whispering against her skin, words spilling out of me too fast and too raw to filter.

I told her how beautiful she was. How brave. How she’d fought harder tonight than any man I’d ever put in the ground—and she hadn’t even been conscious for most of it. 

Hadn’t even known there was a war happening inside her own body while I sat useless beside her, watching machines decide whether she’d survive it. I told her she was perfect.

That she and this baby were the only two things in this entire world I couldn’t survive losing—worth more to me than everything I’d ever built, taken, or protected.

“I fucking love you, wife.” My voice cracked on it, low and rough, meant only for her. I pressed a kiss to her temple and settled in against her side, careful of the wires, like I intended to become a permanent fixture of this bed for however long it took.

“I’m not leaving your side until you’re okay. However long that takes. Weeks. Months. The rest of both our lives if that’s what it comes to. I’ll sit right here until you wake up and tell me I’m being fucking ridiculous.”

My hand moved carefully—down along her arm, her ribs, finally settling at the curve of her stomach. Still flat. Still giving away nothing of the impossible, terrifying, beautiful truth hiding underneath it.

I splayed my fingers wide, just holding them there, trying to reconcile the two things my mind refused to fit together: that beneath this ordinary stretch of skin, warm and familiar under my palm, something impossibly small was fighting for its life right now.

My child. Something that hadn’t existed in my world an hour ago and now felt like the single most important thing in it.

I lowered myself carefully, avoiding the IV taped to her hand, and pressed a gentle kiss against her stomach, staying there a moment with my forehead resting against her skin.

“Hey,” I whispered, voice cracking on the single word. “I’m your dad.”

The words sounded strange coming out of my mouth. Impossible. Beautiful. Like a sentence that belonged to someone else’s life—someone gentler, someone who hadn’t spent tonight putting a knife through several men.

“I know I’m probably going to be terrible at this.” A quiet, broken laugh escaped me. 

“Actually, let’s be honest—I’m definitely going to be terrible at this. Your mother’s going to have to teach me everything, which is unfortunate for you, because she already has an extremely long list of rules for me… and I have an extremely long history of failing every single one of them.”

I glanced up at Alina’s still face.
“So considering how well that’s gone so far, you might want to start praying now. Early intervention. Get ahead of the problem.”

I kissed her stomach again, lingering.
“But I’ll learn,” I murmured, humor bleeding into something softer.

“I’ll learn everything. How to hold you so I don’t break something. How to change a diaper without turning it into a full-scale biological disaster. I’ll figure out every single thing I need to know, because that’s what you do for the people who matter—and you already matter more than anything I’ve ever built.”

I closed my eyes, resting my forehead gently against her.

“And I’ll protect you. Both of you.” Another kiss, softer this time. “You don’t have to be afraid. Not of me. Not of anything. Dad’s here.”

My hand tightened gently around Alina’s.
“Hang in there for me, okay? Just keep fighting. I don't know if you can hear me—hell, I don't even know how any of this works yet. Maybe you can hear my voice. Maybe you can feel me. Or maybe I'm just an idiot sitting here, whispering promises to his wife's stomach.”

A shaky breath escaped me.
“But I need you to fight anyway. Fight the way your mom is fighting right now. She's stubborn as hell, so I know you've got a pretty good example in there.”

My thumb brushed gently over Alina's skin. “She's not giving up on you. So don't you dare give up on her.”

I looked at Alina, thumb brushing slow over her knuckles.

“She’s the strongest person I’ve ever known. Stubborn as hell. Impossible. Completely, chronically incapable of following a simple instruction—especially when her own life depends on it.” A faint smile tugged at my mouth despite everything.

“And apparently you’ve already inherited some of that, little troublemaker, because you’re still here after everything tonight threw at both of you. Fuck knows how many weeks old, and already refusing to quit. I’m almost proud. Terrified, but proud.”

I kissed her stomach once more.
“Your mother’s going to be the sensible one, obviously. She’ll teach you manners, patience, basic survival skills, how to read a room.” I shook my head slowly.

“I’ll teach you how to annoy her without getting caught. Actually—scratch that. She’ll definitely blame me for every single bad habit you ever develop, whether or not it’s actually my fault. And knowing my luck, you’ll get her mouth and my temper… and God help every single person living in this house.” I chuckled at the thought.

“So keep fighting, little one. You’ve got your mother’s stubbornness and your father’s determination. That’s a dangerous combination, historically—but I think it’s exactly what tonight called for.”

I pressed my forehead lightly against her stomach again, eyes squeezed shut.

“Fight the way your mother is fighting right now. She’s the strongest person I’ve ever known, and if you’re anything like her, you’re already stubborn enough to give everyone in this house a fucking headache.” A shaky laugh escaped me.

“Your mom doesn’t know it yet, but she’s already the best thing that ever happened to me. And you—” My breath caught hard. 

“You’re going to know exactly how loved you are, from the very first second you’re strong enough to open your eyes. I promise you that. Whatever it takes, whatever I have to burn down to keep you both safe, I will do it without a second’s hesitation. You just have to stay. Both of you. Just stay.”

My chest grew tight. My throat closed around everything I still needed to say. My eyes pricked with unshed tears I didn’t have the strength left to hold back. For the first time in my adult life, I felt something close to weak. 

Tears—stupid, useless fucking tears—tracking silent down my face while I held onto the only two people who mattered more to me than the empire I’d spent my whole life building.

I was so lost in her that I barely registered Alexis still working beside me, needle moving with quick, practiced efficiency as she finished the last of the stitches in my leg.

“That’ll hold.” Her voice was quiet, gentler than the sharp-edged sarcasm she’d carried all night, worn thin by exhaustion the same as the rest of us. 

She gathered her supplies, glancing once at Alina, then at me—at the wreck I’d clearly become, hunched over my wife with tears tracking silently down my face and one hand still resting protectively over her stomach.

“She’s a fighter, Alexander.” She said it simply. “Always has been. From the first day she walked into this family and told you off for being an arrogant ass, if I remember right.” A ghost of a smile touched her mouth. 

“She’s not done yet. And neither is that baby—not after everything the two of them already survived tonight, before we even knew there were two of them to save.”

She paused at the door, hand resting lightly on the frame, looking back at us one more time.

“I’ll be right down the hall if either of them so much as stirs. Get some rest yourself if you can. She’s going to need you functioning tomorrow—strong, steady—not falling apart from exhaustion tonight when she finally opens her eyes and needs you whole.”

She slipped out quietly. A few minutes later, a soft knock pulled my attention toward the door before it eased open. 

One of the nurses stepped in, a small paper cup and a glass of water balanced in her hands.

“Sorry to interrupt. Dr. Rogers asked me to bring these up for your leg—for the pain.”

I took the pills without much thought, tossing them back and washing them down with the water she handed me, already turning my attention back to Alina before the glass had even left my fingers.

The nurse moved efficiently around the other side of the bed, checking the monitor, adjusting the IV drip, pressing two fingers briefly to Alina’s wrist.

“Vitals are holding steady,” she said quietly. “That’s a good sign. I’ll be back in thirty.”

She slipped out as quietly as she’d come, and it was just the two of us again.

“You hear that, wife?” I pressed my lips to her temple, voice barely above a whisper. 

“You’re doing good. Holding steady. That’s my girl.” I brushed a strand of hair back from her face. 

“Keep doing exactly that. Just keep holding on, and I’ll take care of everything else. I promise you, I’ll make Santos pay for every single second of what he put you through. But right now, all I need from you is this. Just keep breathing for me. Both of you.”

She didn’t stir. Not even a twitch.

As the seconds stretched into minutes, and the minutes began dragging into something longer, I felt my resolve slipping despite everything in me fighting to hold onto it. 

My eyes grew heavy. No matter how hard I tried to keep them open, watching her, it became almost impossible to fight.

What the fuck.

My vision blurred at the edges, my limbs turning leaden, weariness dragging me down with a force that felt entirely separate from simple exhaustion.

I swore under my breath, arms tightening around her one more time, some stubborn last piece of me refusing to let go even as everything else started shutting down.

And then, as my eyes finally slid shut and the darkness closed in around me completely, I understood.

That fucking asshole.

Rogers. He’d drugged me.  
Slipped a sedative into whatever he’d called “pain relief,” knowing full well I’d never have taken it willingly, knowing it was the only way he’d get me to actually rest tonight.

Stupid, sneaky, well-meaning son of a bitch.