Page 110 of Cinderella and the Daddy
"Every baby writes their own timeline," the doctor says calmly. "And your daughter has apparently decided she's ready to meet her parents."
“Get out!” Luka barks at Tony and Grigori.
Tony grabs Leo and carries him out of the room. I smile and wave through the pain.
The next hour passes in a blur of intensity and pain. Luka holds my hand. For a man who has zero qualms about taking a life, he looks like he might pass out at the sight of a life coming into the world.
I definitely plan on teasing him about this later.
He coaches me through each push, wipes my forehead with a cool cloth, tells me how amazing I am, and how proud he is. The dangerous mafia boss disappears, leaving only a man who loves me more than life itself.
"I can see her head," the doctor announces. "One more big push, Cindy."
I bear down with everything I have, Luka's voice in my ear telling me I can do this, I'm almost there, and she's almost here. And then suddenly, miraculously, she is.
A slippery, perfect, screaming bundle of life slides into the doctor’s waiting hands. Our daughter. Our miracle.
"She's beautiful," the doctor says, placing her on my chest. "Absolutely perfect."
She is. Ten tiny fingers and ten tiny toes, a shock of dark hair, and lungs that work perfectly if her indignant cries are any indication. She's pink and wrinkled and the most gorgeous thing I've ever seen.
"Hi, baby girl," I whisper, tears streaming down my face. "We've been waiting for you."
Luka is crying too, though he'd probably deny it if anyone asked. His hand hovers over our daughter like he's afraid to touch her. My powerful man is rendered speechless by seven pounds of newborn perfection.
"She's so small," he whispers.
"She's perfect," I correct, guiding his finger to her tiny fist. Immediately, she grips it with surprising strength. The look on Luka's face is worth every moment of pain and every sleepless night.
Thirty minutes later, Luka brings Leo into the room.
"Look, Leo," I call softly. "Come meet your sister."
He approaches with reverent awe, his eyes wide as saucers. "She's so little. And she's really loud."
"Most babies are when they first arrive," I explain. "She's just letting us know she's here."
"What's her name?" he asks.
Luka and I look at each other. We've discussed names for months, but suddenly, looking at her, there's only one that fits.
"Sofia," Luka says quietly. "Sofia Rose Markovic."
"Sofia means wisdom," I tell Leo. "And she's going to need lots of that, growing up in this family."
Leo grins and gently touches her tiny hand. "Hi, Sofia. I'm your big brother. I'm going to teach you everything."
From his position by the door, Grigori clears his throat roughly. When I look over, his usually stoic expression has softened considerably. "She's beautiful. A perfect little princess."
"Thank you, Grigori. For everything."
He nods once, then steps into the hallway to give us privacy.
The world has narrowed to just the four of us. Luka, Leo, me, and Sofia. Our family, complete at last.
Sofia's cries have quieted to small snuffles as she settles against my chest, already recognizing the sound of my heartbeat that kept her company for nine months. Luka's arm comes around both of us, protective and tender. I lean into his strength.
"She's going to be trouble," he murmurs against my hair. "I can already tell."
