Chapter 79: Alejandro's Pov

This is the happiest I've ever been in my life. For the first time, it feels like I have a complete family-no, I know I have a complete family.

In the last three months, the universe has granted me a gift I never expected: uninterrupted time with the woman I love and the child she carries. Our son.

Every morning, I wake up beside her, wrapped in the warmth of her presence. I feel my son's first kick as the sun rises, and his tiny, eager movements as the night falls. I've stayed awake with them, laughed with them, cried with them, fallen sick with them, and loved them.

I've been a father and a lover in every way that matters.

Why? Because Radimr's travels somehow stretched from days into weeks, and weeks into months.

"Something else has come up, and I'll need to stay another week. . ." That's been his excuse for three months.

On the phone, Mariana plays the part of the concerned wife. She sighs and murmurs her disappointment, as though his absence truly pains her. But the moment the call ends, her lips would curve into a sly smile, and she shrugs.

"Looks like we have another week to ourselves," she'd say with a spark of enthusiasm that feels like a private celebration.

And then, as if on cue, we end up in each other's arms, making love until all the energy is drained out of us.

I'm happy-sated-in a way I never imagined possible. The way things have turned out feels like a dream, one I never want to wake from.

"I need water," Mariana grumbles as she stirs in her sleep.

It's something that has been happening quite a lot in the last three days: her inability to get a good night's rest.

She's always stirring, grumbling, irritated.

Without saying a word, I slide out of bed and reach for the water jug. It's empty. "I'll be right back, baby," I whisper as I step out of the room, heading downstairs to refill the jug.

Minutes later and I'm walking back into the room. But the sight that graces me sends fear down my spine. It's Mariana. She's no longer on the bed. She's standing, legs apart, a pool of water or what seems like it between the parted legs, and sweat trickling down her forehead.

She looks at me with fear in her eyes. Then she gulps before speaking. "I think the baby is coming."

Oh shit!

I'm confused as fuck. I don't know what to do.

In seconds, the jug is out of my hands and I'm at her side, holding her firm. "What do I do. . . we should get you to the hospital. . . did you pack a bag?"

"No. . . no hospital. . ." she groans, "I'm supposed to deliver at home."

"Is that even safe?" I breathe urgently.

She nods, wincing. "Just get the midwife here. She knows what to do."

. . .

Moments later. I don't know if it's seconds, or minutes, or even hours, but what I do know is that the midwife has arrived. She's calm, barking out instructions with a straight face.

As for me. . . well, my mind is chaos.

I'm pacing, fingers in my hair, pulling, digging-it's just so chaotic.

"Get me some towels, clean sheets, and hot water," she says, already slipping gloves onto her hands.

I nod, stumbling out of the room like I've forgotten how to walk. Towels, sheets, water-I grab everything I can find and rush back, nearly tripping over my own feet. When I return, the midwife barely spares me a glance, taking the items from my hands as though she's done this a thousand times.

"You need to calm down," she says without looking up. "Mariana needs you. If you panic, she'll panic. Stay by her side and keep her focused."

I nod-stay by her side and keep her focused. I can do that. I can definitely do that.

I take a deep breath, swallowing my nerves before moving back to Mariana. She's gripping the edge of the bed, her face pale, glistening with sweat. Her eyes-wide and terrified find mine.

"I can't do this," she whispers, her voice shaking. "It's too much, Alejandro. I can't."

"Yes, you can," I respond.

I fall on my knees in front of her and take her hand. Her grip is strong, crushing my fingers, but I don't care. "You're the strongest woman I know, my love. You've got this. I'm right here, baby. I'm not going anywhere."

Another contraction hits, and she screams, her head falling back as tears streak down her cheeks. I wipe them away, pressing my forehead to hers.

"You did this to me, Alejandro!" she screams even louder, her grip on my fingers tightening.

I grunt. "I'm sorry. . . I'm so sorry. . ."

The contraction evades and she shakes with quick breaths as she tries to relax through her few minutes of rest.

"You're almost there," I murmur, trying to keep my voice steady. "Just a little longer. You can do this. For him-for our son."

She sobs, shaking her head, and yet, her eyes are pinged with determination.

The contraction comes again and the midwife tells her to push. Mariana's voice go mute as she grunts, her hands holding her legs apart.

She's giving it her all.

"That's it!" The midwife encourages. "The baby's crowning. One more big push, Mariana."

Mariana groans, her whole body trembling as she bears down again. I hold her hand, whispering every word of encouragement I can think of, my heart pounding so hard I can barely hear myself.

And then, all at once, it happens.

The baby's cry breaks through the tension. It's loud. It's raw. It's beautiful.

It suddenly silences every other sound.

"Oh my God," I breathe, my chest tight. Tears blur my vision and I don't even try to stop them.

I watch as the midwife works quickly. She cleans the baby, suctions him, stimulates him, then wraps him up. I watch it all in awe.

He's so beautiful.

He's so. . .

"Your son," the midwife says as she places the baby in Mariana's arms.

Mariana sobs, clutching him to her chest. Her whole body trembles, but there's nothing but love on her face now. "Hi, baby," she whispers, her voice hoarse but soft. "Hi, my sweet boy. My Angel. . ."

I can't move. I can't speak. I can only stare at them, my heart pounding so hard it feels like it might break. My son. My family.

"Angel. . ."  I murmur.

That's my father's name-that is Pablo's real name. Angel.

And now, Mariana is giving that name to our son.

"It's perfect. . . he's perfect," I finally manage, my voice cracking as I lean down to kiss her forehead. "You're amazing, Mariana. You're so amazing."

I reach out, my hand trembling as I stroke my son's tiny cheek. He's so small, so perfect. His little hand curls around my finger, and I feel my chest tighten, my heart shattering and rebuilding all at once.

"I love you," I say, my voice breaking. "Both of you. So much."

Suddenly, Mariana and I forget about our pain. We're filled with so much love, gushing over our son.

The hours that follow are calm and filled with so much happiness. Happiness that suddenly disappears from my heart when I hear that Radimr is back.

"You know what to do, Alejandro," Mariana whispers as I lean down to kiss her forehead before leaving the room.

"Of course, I do."

I'm outside before we can share any more words. Far away from her room and from my child. Watching my brother as he runs out of his car into the house and straight to my woman.

Patience.

After seeing my son, I'm now willing to wait as long as it takes. I'm willing to wait until whatever plans Mariana has materializes.

Long minutes pass and Radimr walks out of the room all smiles and giddy, swelling with a pride that doesn't belong to him.

That is my son-I want to scream, but I keep the words to myself.

"Congratulations, brother," I say as I approach him.

"Hm," he hums in response, immediately turning to the midwife. "I thought she wasn't due until another month?"

"That is correct, but these kinds of things usually depend on the baby and when they want to come." The midwife answers.

"So they're both healthy?" He asks.

She nods. "Of course. They're perfect."

Radimr's smile widens, his head bobbing in nods. "Well. . . my brother here will drive you home. I appreciate your good work."

The woman nods and follows behind me as I lead her outside and into my car.

The drive is quiet, too quiet. The woman steals glances at me a little more than I am comfortable with. And when she steals another glance, I can't help the words that tumble out of my lips. "You can say what is on your mind."

"I don't care to know what happens under your roof, or why you impregnated your brother's wife. . ." she pauses. "But. . . I need more money if I have to continue leading this lie."

"More money?"

She hums. I chuckle. I understand now why Mariana made this decision.

"You'll get it. As much as you want." I respond.

She's yet to fish out a reply when I swerve the car into a road unknown to her. She's screaming, questions falling through her lips.

"What. . . where are you taking me?!"

"To get more money of course," I respond.

She knows that's a lie. Tears pour from her eyes, screams of, "help me!" escaping her throat with enthusiasm.

I pay her no mind until I bring the car to a stop in front of an incomplete building. I step out, round the car, pull the door open and drag her thrashing body along with me until we're at the back of the building where my men are waiting.

"P. . . please. . ." the woman begs, knees on the ground.

"I appreciate you for assisting my woman through bringing our son into this world," I say as I tighten the silencer to my gun's barrel. "But I have to ask, what is it with humans and their inability to overcome their greed?"

Her lips part but she chokes on her words, because three bullets, simultaneous, pierces her skull.

She falls backwards. Into the grave dug for her. Good. Makes the jon a little less messy.

"Bury her."