Page 96 of The Mafia's Quadruplets

The words feel inadequate, but I press on, driven by a need to connect with these tiny beings, who have already claimed my heart. “I don’t know how to be a father,” I confess. “My own wasn’t really paternal, but I’ll learn. For you, I’ll learn.”

A nurse approaches, clipboard in hand. “Mr. Rostova? I need to check their vitals now.”

I nod, standing to give her room to work. Watching her gentle, practiced movements, a thought strikes me. “Can you... Would it be possible for me to help? To learn how to care for them?”

The nurse—her nametag reads “Sandra”—looks surprised for a moment before smiling. “Of course. It’s good for the babies to have as much contact with their parents as possible. I can show you how to change their diapers and take their temperature.”

For the next hour, Sandra patiently guides me through the basics of caring for premature infants. My hands, more accustomed to handling weapons and signing contracts, feel clumsy and oversized when I attempt to fasten a diaper smaller than my palm, but with each try, I grow more confident.

As I finish changing Andrew’s diaper, a task that would have seemed impossible just an hour ago, I feel a sense of accomplishment that rivals any business deal I’ve ever closed. Sandra nods approvingly.

“You’re a natural, Mr. Rostova. These little ones are lucky to have you.”

Her words catch me off guard, stirring emotions I’m not used to feeling. Pride, yes, but also a deep-seated fear of failing these innocent lives who depend on me so completely. I clear my throat, pushing aside the fear. “Thank you. I... I want to be here for them as much as possible. Is there anything else I can do?”

She nods. “Kangaroo care is very beneficial for preemies. It’s skin-to-skin contact. Would you like to try it with one of them?”

My heart races at the prospect of holding one of our children. “Yes,” I say, my voice rough with emotion. “Yes, I’d like that very much.”

“Nikolai’s vitals are strong enough to start kangaroo care. It might be a few days before the others are ready for it.” Sandra helps me prepare, telling me to remove my shirt and sit in a recliner. Then, with infinite care, she lifts Kolya from hisincubator and places him on my bare chest. She covers us both with a warm blanket, leaving only Nikolai’s head exposed.

The feeling of his tiny body against mine is indescribable. His warmth, the flutter of his heartbeat, and the soft puffs of breath against my skin are overwhelming. I cradle him gently, marveling at how something so small can hold so much of my heart.

“Talk to him,” Sandra encourages. “Let him hear your voice.”

I swallow hard, searching for words. What do you say to a child who’s barely begun to exist in the world? How do you express the depth of love you feel for someone you’ve just met?

“Nikolai, I’m your papa. I... I don’t know much about being a father, but I promise I’ll always be here for you. Your mother, and your sisters, and your brother are the most important people in my life now. I’ll protect you, provide for you, and love you more than you can imagine.”

As I speak, Kolya relaxes against me, his tiny body molding to my chest. It’s as if he knows he’s safe and exactly where he belongs. The realization brings a lump to my throat.

“You’re so strong,” I continue, running a finger gently along his arm. “All of you are. You’ve fought so hard to be here, and I’m so proud of you. Your mama and I, we’ll be right here with you, every step of the way.”

I lose track of time while I sit there, holding my son and talking softly to him while watching my other children, longing for the moment I can hold them too. The world outside this room ceases to exist.

Eventually, Sandra returns. “It’s time to put him back in the incubator,” she says gently, “But you did wonderfully, Mr. Rostova. Nikolai’s vitals improved significantly during the kangaroo care.”

As she lifts Kolya from my chest, I feel a profound sense of loss. She settles him back into his incubator, checking his tubes and monitors with practiced efficiency.

“Can I do this again?” I ask. “With all of them?”

Sandra smiles. “Absolutely. The more, the better once they’re all stable enough. If they continue at this pace and don’t backslide, I’d expect you can be holding all of them within the next couple of days. It’s good for them, and for you too. As soon as Ms. Bennett is up for it, she can join you.”

I nod, already looking forward to the next opportunity to hold my children, and to see Claire experience it for the first time too. As I put my shirt back on, I glance at the clock and realize I’ve been in the NICU for hours. Claire will be waking soon, and I want to be there when she does.

“Thank you,” I say to Sandra.

“Of course.” She pats my arm. “You’re doing great, Mr. Rostova. Your little ones are lucky to have you.”

I take one last look at our children before leaving the NICU. The fear and uncertainty I felt earlier have been replaced by fierce determination. I don’t know everything about being a father, but I’m ready to learn. For Natalia, Simone, Kolya, and Andrew, I’ll become the man they need me to be.

As I make my way back to Claire’s room, I feel brighter than I have in years. My past and the responsibilities of my empire allseem insignificant compared to the four tiny lives in the NICU, and the woman waiting for me.

Six weeks later,the car glides to a stop in front of our mansion, and I let out a long breath. The moment we’ve been waiting for has finally arrived. I glance at Claire in the passenger seat, and she’s clearly excited. So am I.

“Ready?” I ask, reaching for her hand.

She nods, squeezing my fingers. “Let’s bring our baby girl home.”

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