The surgeon swallowed hard.
“We performed an emergency C-section. You have a son, Mr. Cross. He’s premature but stable. He’s in the NICU. Strong heartbeat. He’s fighting.”
A son.
I had a son.
But my chest still tightened.
“And Claire?” I asked.
The surgeon hesitated.
“She lost a massive amount of blood. Her heart stopped twice. We stabilized her, but she’s in a coma. If she doesn’t wake up by morning… she may not come back.”
For the first time in my life, Adrian Cross dropped to his knees in a hospital hallway.
I didn’t feel power.
I didn’t feel fear.
Only emptiness.
They let me into ICU an hour later.
Claire lay motionless, surrounded by machines.
I took her cold hand carefully.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I was wrong. Savannah lied. She paid for everything. She ordered the hit.”
“You gave me a son. Please don’t leave us. I’ll burn everything down. I’ll leave this life. Just come back.”
Night passed like a blade.
I didn’t move.
I didn’t blink.
Then, just before dawn—
Her fingers moved.
Barely.
My breath stopped.
Her lashes trembled.
The monitors changed rhythm.
Slowly, Claire opened her eyes.
Fear filled them immediately.
She was searching for our child.
“He’s safe,” I whispered, holding her hand tighter. “Our son is safe. You’re safe too. No one will hurt you again.”
A tear slipped down her cheek.
Her fingers squeezed mine weakly.
And in that moment—
The man who ruled the underworld disappeared.
And a father took his place.
Everything I built meant nothing.
Because I had finally found what mattered.
Love.
And I wasn’t letting it go again.