Chapter 205 One Of Each

Chapter 205 One Of Each


Draco’s POV

Renzo’s phone goes off.
A single ping.
Sharp enough to cut through the room, even over Nico running his mouth about something no one asked him about.
Renzo glances down at the screen and then he freezes.
Just for a second.
But I know him well enough to catch it.
That pause isn’t nothing. That pause means everything.
“It’s time,” he says, looking up at me.
I lean back in my chair, one arm draped over the side, irritation already forming before the meaning even lands.
“Time for what?”
Renzo just stares at me.
Flat. Unimpressed.
“Time for you to become a father.”
I blink once. The words hit and then slide right past.
“Yeah,” I say, closing my eyes like this is a conversation we’ve already had too many times. “Any day now.”
A beat passes. Everything goes silent.
Then he screams. Literally screams.
“Draco, you dumbass, today is the day,” Renzo snaps. “Get up. Bella’s water broke.”
My eyes snap open. Everything clicks at once. I’m already moving before the chair even finishes scraping back.
“Move,” I bark, not waiting for anyone as I head for the door.
The world narrows.
Nothing else matters.
Not the men, not the conversation, not the damn building around me.
Just her.
By the time I reach the room, I don’t slow down.
I go straight to her.
Bella’s sitting forward, tension written through her entire body, her breathing uneven, sharp around the edges. There’s a sheen of sweat along her skin, strands of hair clinging to her face, and her eyes. 
Her eyes find mine immediately. Relief hits them so fast it almost looks like pain.
I don’t say anything.
I just move.
My arms slide under her without hesitation, lifting her up like she weighs nothing, holding her close as I carry her toward the room I had prepared weeks ago.
“Draco,” she breathes, her fingers gripping into my shirt.
“I got you, cara mia,” I murmur, my voice steady even as everything inside me sharpens to a point. “You’re good.”
The door is already open.
Mary and Dianna are inside.
Of course they are. Everything is ready. It always is.
I lay her down carefully on the bed, slower now, controlled, making sure she’s settled before I even think about stepping back.
Mary moves immediately, checking her with quick, practiced precision. Dianna is right beside her, calm, focused, efficient.
A second passes. Then Mary looks up. “She’s crowning.” The words land heavy. “No time for meds.”
Bella lets out a sharp, broken sound, her body tensing as another contraction hits hard enough to pull a scream from her throat.
“Are you kidding me?” she gasps, her voice climbing. “No. no, I want the epidural, give me the damn epidural!” She screams as her face turns an even darker shade of red. 
Dianna shakes her head gently, already moving into position. “There’s no time, sweetheart. Baby’s coming now.”
Bella looks like she might actually fight someone.
I step in before that thought can turn into action. My hands come up, cupping her face, forcing her to look at me.
“Hey,” I say softly, grounding, steady. “Look at me.”
Her eyes lock onto mine, wild for a second, searching for something to hold onto.
“You’re okay,” I tell her, my thumbs brushing along her cheeks. “You’re stronger than this. You’ve handled worse than this without breaking a sweat.”
She lets out a breath that’s half a laugh, half a sob. “That was different.”
“Yeah,” I murmur. “This one ends better.”
Another contraction hits.
Hard.
Her grip on me tightens as she cries out, her body following instinct even when her mind is fighting it.
“That’s it,” Mary says firmly. “Push, Bella. Now.”
Time stops making sense after that. Everything moves too fast and not fast enough at the same time.
Her breathing.
Her voice.
My heartbeat pounding so loud it feels like it’s in my throat.
Then it hits. 
A cry.
Mary’s voice cuts through everything. “It’s a boy.”
For a second, I don’t move.
I just stare. At him. At the small, writhing life in her hands.
My son.
“Cord,” Mary says, snapping me back into motion.
I step forward, hands steady despite everything, taking the scissors and cutting it clean.
He’s placed on Bella’s chest, tiny and loud and very much alive.
She barely has a second to take him in. Because another wave hits. Her entire body tenses again, a cry tearing from her throat as she grips the sheets.
“Momma, it’s time,” Dianna says softly, already moving. “One more.”
Bella lets out a breath that sounds like she’s about to curse out the entire world.
“I hate all of you,” she mutters through clenched teeth.
I huff out something that might be a laugh. “Yeah, yeah. You’ll get over it.”
“Not you,” she shoots back immediately.
Fair.
Another push.
Another cry.
And then another sound fills the room.
Softer this time. But just as real. 
“It’s a girl,” Mary announces.
That’s when something in me breaks.
Not clean. Not controlled. Just gone.
I’ve only cried once in my life.
Once.
The time I almost lost her because of my own mistakes.
I thought that was it. Thought that was the only thing that could crack me open like that.
I was wrong.
Because now I can’t stop.
It hits all at once, heavy and overwhelming, like something inside me finally gave way.
Tears don’t just fall. They pour.
Like a damn faucet I don’t know how to shut off.
I don’t even try.
Dianna hands Bella our daughter, placing her carefully beside her brother.
Bella looks exhausted.
Completely drained.
But there’s something else there too. Something stronger.
She lifts her gaze to me, her eyes softer now, steadier despite everything.
I swallow, trying to get a handle on myself and failing completely.
“A boy and a girl,” I manage, my voice rougher than I’ve ever heard it.
She gives me the smallest smile. Then she says it. “Draven and Raven.”
The names settle into the room like they were always meant to be there.
I let out a shaky breath, nodding once as I look down at them, at our children.
“Perfect,” I murmur.
And for the first time in my life everything feels exactly where it’s supposed to be.