“She Slapped a Pregnant Waitress—Then the Mafia Boss Saw His Dead Brother’s Watch on Her Wrist”

The subterranean parking garage was dark and silent, smelling of damp concrete and gasoline.

Gabe rushed ahead, securing the two black SUVs parked near the emergency exit, while Damon carried me in his arms like I was made of glass. My contraction hit like a tidal wave of pure fire, twisting my core so hard I gasped, my fingers digging into the wool fabric of Damon's lapels until my knuckles turned white.

"Hold on, Adriana," Damon murmured, his voice tight with desperation as he placed me gently onto the rear bench seat of the armored SUV. "Just hold on. We're five minutes from my estate. Dr. Mercer is already waiting."

"I can't... I can't wait five minutes, Damon!" I sobbed, my body shivering violently as another wave of pain ripped through my lower back. "He's coming... he's coming right now!"

Damon looked down at me, his dark eyes wide with a rare, shocking terror. This was a man who had faced down federal indictments, rival mob bosses, and automatic gunfire without blinking, but the sight of a woman in active labor inside the back of a getaway car had him utterly defenseless.

"Gabe!" Damon shouted toward the front seat. "Call Mercer! Tell her to get the medical kit down to the garage! We aren't going to make it upstairs!"

"Boss!" Gabe yelled back, turning on the engine with a roar. "The street outside is blocked by police cruisers! The explosion at the bank brought half the Boston PD!"

"Then lock the garage gates!" Damon barked. "Nobody comes down here! Nobody!"

Damon shed his dark suit jacket, tossing it onto the floor, and rolled up his white silk sleeves. He pulled a clean linen towel from the vehicle's emergency kit, kneeling on the floorboards of the SUV right between my knees.

"Adriana," Damon said, his voice dropping into a steady, intense anchor that cut through my panic. He caught my chin with his large, warm hand, forcing me to look into his eyes. "Look at me. Look at my eyes."

I looked at him, panting heavily, tears blurring my vision.

"You survived six months on the streets alone," Damon said fiercely. "You survived Victor Marquetti's hit squad. You walked through fire to get Eli's watch back. You are the strongest woman I have ever known. Now bring Eli’s son into this world."

A fresh contraction hit me, harder than the last, an unbearable pressure taking over my entire body.

"I can't... it hurts so much, Damon!" I shrieked, grabbing his broad shoulders for leverage.

"Yes, you can," Damon commanded softly, taking my hands in his, letting me crush his fingers with all the strength left in my body. "Push, Adriana! Push!"

I threw my head back against the leather headrest and screamed—a raw, primal sound that echoed off the cold concrete walls of the underground garage. I pushed with everything I had, channeling six months of fear, grief, rage, and love into that single, explosive effort.

"I see his head!" Damon called out, his voice cracking with a sudden, overwhelming emotion. "I see him, Adriana! One more! Give me one more!"

I took a deep, shuddering breath, gripped Damon's arms, and pushed again with a desperate, final scream that shook my very soul.

The world seemed to stop moving. The sirens outside faded into white noise. The pain suddenly gave way to a massive, weightless release.

A second later, a high-pitched, furious cry echoed through the interior of the armored SUV.

WAHHHH! WAHHHH!

I collapsed back onto the leather seat, completely exhausted, drenched in sweat, gasping for air.

Damon sat on his knees, holding a tiny, slick, red-faced baby wrapped in the clean linen towel. The terrifying mob boss of Boston was staring down at the newborn child in his hands, his face completely transformed by an expression of pure, awe-struck reverence.

Tears—real, unashamed tears—shone in Damon Kalas's dark eyes.

"It's a boy, Adriana," Damon whispered, his voice trembling as he gently placed the crying infant onto my chest. "He's perfect. He's... he's Eli."

I pulled the small, warm body against my skin, my tears falling onto his soft dark hair. The baby’s tiny fingers reached out blindly, curling tightly around the steel band of Eli’s watch resting against my wrist.

Outside the SUV, the heavy iron security gates of the parking garage groaned open, and Dr. Mercer came running through with two nurses carrying medical bags.

Damon stood up, stepping out of the SUV to give the doctor room. He wiped his face with the back of his hand, leaning against the side of the vehicle, staring up at the concrete ceiling as a long, shaky breath escaped his chest.

Gabe walked over, handing Damon his encrypted phone.

"Boss," Gabe said softly. "The drive from the vault... we uploaded Eli's files to the federal prosecutor ten minutes ago. Victor Marquetti’s arrest warrant was just issued."