Page 103 of Forbidden Vengeance

“Not anymore,” comes a smug Irish drawl. “Area contained.”

“DeLuca teams, create a diversion at the main entrance,” Antonio orders. “Make them think we’re going for the parking structure.”

“Copy that. Moving into position.”

“Two minutes to the exit point,” Mario murmurs against my hair, his arm tight around me as another contraction hits.

“Brother,” Matteo’s voice cuts through our comms. “Your route is clear. My men will hold them.”

But Anthony’s forces are adapting, moving to cut us off. Through the pain, I hear them coordinating: “Target approaching basement level?—”

“Remember, we need them both alive?—”

I gasp, clutching Mario’s shirt as pain rips through me. All the books said first-time labor would last hours, but I already feel the urge to bear down. Pure panic claws up my throat.

“I am not,” I tell Mario, nearly hysterical, “giving birth in a fucking service elevator!”

Another contraction cuts through me, this one bringing another scream I can’t suppress. The sound echoes through the shaft, giving away our position.

“There!” Someone shouts from above. “They’re between one and two!”

Mario shoots upward without taking his supportive arm from my waist. But I see the strain in his face—trying to protect me while fighting, trying to get us out while keeping me from falling.

“The maintenance tunnel,” I gasp, remembering the building layout through another wave of pain. “If we can reach…reach the access panel on the next floor…”

“Boss,” Dante cuts in urgently. “Calabrese has multiple teams. Another medical team’s set up in the tunnel. They’re waiting?—”

“Let them wait,” I manage through gritted teeth, my mind still working despite the pain. “Siobhan’s teams…they’re in position…”

As if on cue, gunfire erupts from below—but not aimed at us. Through the open shaft, we hear Anthony’s medical team shouting in surprise as Irish crews emerge from their hiding spots throughout the tunnel.

“Caught the bastards completely off guard,” one of Siobhan’s men reports through our comms, satisfaction clear in his voice.

“Targets engaged,” Siobhan announces. “Tunnel’s clear. Get her the fuck out, DeLuca.”

Mario helps me swing toward the elevator doors, his movements precise despite the awkward angle. Another contraction hits just as we reach the maintenance access, making me cry out.

Our daughter is coming, whether we’re ready or not.

“I’m sorry,” I gasp as we navigate the dark service corridors, tears mixing with sweat on my face. Another contraction tears through me, making my vision blur. “I’m so sorry I got us into this. I should have listened to you—should have had Kate handle this?—”

He cuts me off with a hard, desperate kiss, his lips fierce against mine even as his hands remain gentle supporting my weight. “Stop apologizing,” he growls against my mouth. “And this is the one time I won’t tell you I told you so, so you better fucking enjoy it.”

A hysterical laugh bubbles up—I’m not sure if it’s the adrenaline, the pain, or the complete absurdity of Mario DeLuca choosing this moment to develop a sense of humor.

Through our earpieces, we hear the chaos unfolding—Anthony’s forces regrouping, trying to cut off our escape route. But our allies have been one step ahead the whole time.

“East entrance secured,” Matteo’s men report.

“Two more hostiles down in the stairwell,” comes Siobhan, laughter clear in her voice.

“Medical team neutralized,” another Irish voice confirms.

“Vehicle’s waiting in the loading dock,” Dante reports. “Path is clear but?—”

Another contraction cuts him off as my knees buckle. This one feels different—more urgent, more demanding. Like our daughter is done waiting.

“She’s coming,” I gasp, gripping Mario’s arm hard enough to bruise. “Stella’s comingnow.”

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