CHAPTER 303

CHAPTER 303
ALEXANDER 

I woke slow, disoriented, the last coherent memory I had being the fight to keep my eyes open before Rogers's drugged pills dragged me under against my will. 

For several seconds, I had no idea where I was. Then the ache in my leg registered.

The faint beep of a monitor reached me. The weight of someone warm tucked against my side.

And everything came back.Santos. The warehouse. The blood. The doctors. The baby. My eyes snapped open.

Morning light seeped through the curtains in pale gold, far too soft and peaceful for the nightmare we'd survived.

For one disoriented second, I simply stared at the ceiling, trying to remember where I was—and whether the whole fucking night had been some drugged, exhausted nightmare.

Then I turned my head.Alina.
She lay beside me, pale against the pillow, but breathing. Actually breathing.

My gaze immediately went to the monitor.
The wires and tubes surrounding her seemed to blur at the edges as I focused on the green line moving steadily across the screen.
Beep. Beep. Beep. Steady.

My lungs finally released the breath I'd apparently been holding.

“Fuck…”

I dragged a hand over my face, rubbing away the exhaustion that had settled into every bone in my body.
Then I looked at her again. She hadn't moved.

But there was more color in her face than there had been last night. Her breathing was quiet and even, her chest rising and falling beneath the blanket with a rhythm so ordinary it felt like the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen.

I watched her for several seconds, almost afraid to blink.

She was still fighting. And somewhere beneath that blanket, our baby was still fighting too.

The thought hit me hard enough that my throat tightened.

I leaned over carefully, mindful of the IV and the wires, and pressed my lips against her temple.

“Good morning, wife,” I whispered.
My voice was rough from exhaustion.

“I know you're probably not awake enough to appreciate how charming I am this early, but I'm saying it anyway.”

Nothing. I smiled faintly. “Typical. I finally say something sweet, and you ignore me.”

I brushed a strand of hair away from her face, letting my fingertips linger against her cheek..Then my gaze dropped. Her stomach.

Our baby. The thought still felt surreal.

I moved slowly, careful of the wires and IV line taped to her hand, and lowered myself until I could press a gentle kiss against her stomach through the thin fabric of her gown.
I stayed there for a moment, my forehead resting against her.

"Morning, baby." A ghost of a smile tugged at my mouth despite everything the night had put us through. 

"Big day today, buddy." I pressed my lips gently against her stomach, voice quiet, just for the two of us. 

"Your mom's going to open her eyes, and when she does, I need you to be extra good for her, okay? No more scaring us. We've had enough of that for one lifetime, and you're not even fucking born—"

I stopped dead. Shit.  “...Did I just swear infront of my unborn child?”

I slowly shook my head. “Jesus Christ. Great start, Alexander.”

I lowered my voice conspiratorially.
“Okay, we're keeping that between us. Your mother doesn't need to know your father is already teaching you profanity before you've even got a fucking birth certificate.”

I paused. “…Shit. I said it fucking again.” I sighed. “I’m going to be a terrible influence, aren’t I? At this rate, your first word is going to be something your mother will blame me for until the day I die.”

I lifted my head, staring up at her stomach like it might actually judge me for it. 

"We're striking that from the record. Rule number one, effective immediately — Daddy's going to work on the language before you show up, I promise." I cleared my throat, resuming my most dignified voice. 

“Anyway. As I was saying before I professionally derailed the moment…” I murmured, brushing my thumb gently over her stomach. 

“Be good for your mom, okay? She’s been through enough for one lifetime.”

A quiet laugh escaped me. “You’re already so loved, little one. More than you could possibly understand. And honestly, that’s a little terrifying, because I’ve only known about you for a few hours and I’d already tear the entire  world apart to keep you safe.”

I smiled faintly..“So, yeah. Welcome to the family. You’ve already got me completely wrapped around your tiny little finger.”

I shook my head. "And your grandfather's probably downstairs right now plotting exactly how spoiled you're going to be — he already ran an entire empire, so brace yourself, he's going to run your entire childhood too, given half a chance. Your aunt Alexis has probably drafted a formal list of demands for godmother privileges by now, possibly notarized. Your mom and I haven't even met you yet, and you already have an entire war room assembled in your honor."

I exhaled a shaky breath, resting my forehead against her stomach once more. 

“I don't know what you're going to look like yet. Maybe you'll have your mother's eyes and my stubbornness. Her sarcasm and my temper.” I gave a faint, broken laugh. 

“But I already know one thing. I'd walk through fire for you.”

I swallowed, the memory of the warehouse flashing through my mind.

“Hell, I already have. More than once this week, and I didn't even know you were waiting for me on the other side.”

I leaned down and pressed a soft kiss against her stomach.

“So here's your first warning, little one. Keep your expectations low when it comes to your father's parenting skills.”

A faint smile tugged at my mouth.

“I'll probably screw up. I'll be overprotective. Your mother will tell me I'm being ridiculous at least twice a day.”

I paused. “But when it comes to fighting for you?”

My voice dropped. “Set those expectations as high as you want.”

I kissed her stomach again. “Because there isn't a thing in this world I wouldn't do to get you home.”

I lifted my head, my chest tight, and then I felt it. Movement..I fucking froze.

My eyes snapped to Alina's face, and for one impossible second, my heart seemed to stop.

Then her eyelids fluttered. Once.
Twice.
Beautiful, blurry eyes slowly opened, unfocused as they fought against the pale morning light spilling through the curtains.

I couldn't breathe. I just stared at her. She was awake. She was fucking awake.

My face broke into something that wasn't quite a smile and wasn't quite a sob either. I didn't even know what expression I was making. 

I only knew that every part of me was suddenly overwhelmed by the fact that she was looking at me.

I pushed myself upright, ignoring the sharp protest from my leg, and leaned over her, cupping her face between both hands as if touching her was the only way to convince myself she wasn't going to disappear again.

“Wife.” The word came out cracked and helpless.

My thumbs brushed carefully over her cheeks, lingering against the warmth of her skin.

“Fuck…” I swallowed hard. “You're awake.”

She looked exhausted. Pale. Bruised. Her lips were dry, her hair a complete mess against the pillow, and there was still something painfully fragile about her that made my chest tighten.

And somehow, she was still the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen.Her eyelids fluttered as she tried to focus.

I held my breath. Her gaze slowly found mine, blurry at first, then clearer with every second.

She blinked a few times, looking at me as though she was trying to place the wreck of a man sitting beside her.

Then her eyes travelled over my face.
The dark circles beneath my eyes.
The stubble I'd had no time—or inclination—to deal with.
The dried blood staining my clothes.

Finally, her gaze settled on my hair.
Her lips twitched. “You look terrible.”

I stared at her. Of all the things she could have said after waking up from a fucking nightmare...

That was what she went with. My mouth opened, but nothing came out.

She blinked slowly, still studying me.
“Did you sleep at all?” Her voice was rough, barely above a whisper. Then her eyes narrowed slightly.

“Or did Santos's men finally manage to get a few good hits in before you killed them all?”

Of course. She'd been unconscious for hours, had nearly bled to death, and somehow her first instinct upon waking was to insult my appearance.

A laugh tore out of me. It was wet and broken and completely fucking involuntary.

I dropped my forehead against hers, my shoulders shaking as the laughter tangled with the tears I hadn't realized were falling.

“There she is.” I kissed her forehead.
“There’s my sarcastic.”

Another kiss to her cheek. “Still insulting me a minutes after waking up.”

Her mouth curved faintly.
“Someone has to keep you humble.”

I laughed again, pressing my forehead against hers.

“God, I missed you.”.My voice broke on the last word.

Her eyes softened. And for the first time since I'd found her in that warehouse, I let myself breathe.

Really breathe. She was awake.
She was talking. She was being sarcastic. She was Alina.

And fuck, I'd never been happier to be insulted in my entire life.