Page 95 of Third Comes Vengeance

“Cassius, take my place for a minute, will you?” Salvatore gasps.

Salvatore’s hand pulls out of my grasp and a larger one takes his place. Cassius murmurs soft words in Italian in my ear and dabs a damp cloth against my sweating brow.

“Bambina, you’re doing so well. Look at you. So strong. You can squeeze harder. You won’t hurt me.”

The contraction passes and I suck in a huge breath. I thought this would hurt, but I didn’t anticipate the immense pressure my body would suddenly be exerting on itself. “How much longer?”

“We’re nearly there,” the midwife tells me from between my thighs, her attention focused on the baby. “The next contraction, you’re going to push as hard as you can, okay Chiara?”

“Okay,” I gasp, taking a firmer grip on Cassius’ hand. It’s nearly three in the morning. My eyes are burning and my men all look disheveled and tense, but they keep smiling at me and saying encouraging words.

Lorenzo is down by my legs and watching the midwife like a hawk. He’s read every book about babies and delivery he can get his hands on and was insistent he would deliver the baby himself. I put my foot down and told him I was having an experienced professional and that was the end of the discussion.

“The next baby, then,” he conceded. “This one, I’ll just watch. We’re practicing this first time around, princess.”

Vinicius is opposite Lorenzo, holding my other hand and compulsively running his fingers through his hair. For once, he hasn’t got anything to say. The midwife hasn’t complained that the master bedroom in Salvatore’s house that has been turned into a birthing room is crowded with men. Her expression didn’t even flicker when we told her that all four men are the father. All she said was,This baby is going to receive a lot of love, isn’t it?

We would love to love it, if only it would arrive.

I’m opening my mouth to ask for a sip of water when I’m gripped by another contraction.

The midwife pats my thigh. “Here we go. Time to push, Chiara.”

I barely have a choice in the matter. Everything in my body is screaming,Down, push down, get this thing OUT.

I feel a slithering sensation. Everything seems to happen at once.

“It’s a boy!” Vinicius cries out, finding his voice at last.

A boy.I have a son. I barely have the energy to sit up. “Let me see him. Is he all right?”

A moment later an indignant cry pierces the air. The midwife lays the baby on my breast and my eyes fill with tears as I feel his weight on my heart.

“Baby,” I whisper. “Hi, baby. We’re so happy to meet you.”

My men all crowd around me, their hands on me, their fingers gently touching the baby. Their son.

The midwife checks the baby’s reflexes, cleans him up and weighs him, and wraps him in a blanket. Lorenzo is hovering by her the entire time and as soon as she’s finished, he holds out his arms.

“Can I hold him?”

“Of course you can.”

The men all huddle around Lorenzo, smiling at the baby in wonder.

“Can you take a picture of them?” I whisper to the midwife, and she takes out her phone and snaps some photos. I want to remember this moment forever.

“I’ve sent them to you,” she tells me. “Congratulations on your beautiful boy.”

A few minutes later, Vinicius collapses into the chair next to me. “I don’t know about you, kitten, but I’m exhausted.”

“Oh, you poor thing,” I tell him with a grin. “How does it feel to be a father?”

He reaches out and takes my hand, and his golden eyes are glowing. “Absolutely wonderful.”

Several hours later, after the midwife has gone and I’ve had my first go at breastfeeding the baby and fallen into a doze, I wake up to see Salvatore walking up and down the room with the baby in his arms. The baby is sound asleep.

“I thought you only have to do that when he’s crying.”

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