“In through your nose, Angel,” Karl coaxes, counting with her. The look she’s giving him-all of us is priceless.
“I’m going to pretend I don’t want to castrate you all for this p-” Emma’s words cut off, and her face twists in anguish.
Our daughter, Zoey, and our son, Aidan, are resting skin-to-skin on their mother’s chest.
“Do you need anything?” Liam asks, pouring her a cup of water.
Emma gazes in his direction. “Liam, I love you, but if you offer me another cup of water today, I might kick you,” she grumbles, returning her attention to the babies.
Undeterred, Liam replies, “Water is great for you and the babies.” Then, he picks up the container of fresh fruits, Greek yogurt, and soup. “You have to increase your caloric intake,” he explains-their bickering triggering another memory.
“Liamon Nathaniel Washington. Stop giving me all the statistical analyses on the best positions to deliver a baby in,” Emma seethes, breathing through her next contraction.
Dr. Jaffri stands, blocking Liam from Emma’s glare, the move probably saving his life. “Okay. You’re almost there. Everything looks great. The first baby is head down, and you’re eight centimeters dilated and about eighty percent effaced.”
“Good, now tell this one,” Emma points at Liam. “To let you do your job and for him to do his, feeding me ice chips.”
Emma yawns, and I move to her side, picking up Zoey. “She looks so much like you.” My gaze lifts to my mother’s figure in the doorway. Emma’s eyes pop wide as she adjusts her top. “All that wavy black hair.”
“That’s it, one last push,” Dr. Jaffri encourages as Karl runs a cool cloth across Emma’s flushed face.
“Gah. . . ahhh,” Emma groans, gripping my hand while she pushes. Moments later, a wail fills the room.
“It’s a girl,” Dr. Jaffri announces. “Who’d like to do the honors?” she asks, holding some type of scissors.
August steps forward, just like we agreed. Not that we would’ve argued if we hadn’t decided before. August’s been the lighthouse guiding us safely to our North Star. If anyone deserves to do the honors, it’s him.
The nurses move about the room, taking our baby girl to be cleaned up. My attention centers back on Emma as she prepares to push again.
“Holy shit, Rowan,” August blurts. “She looks just fucking like you.” He’s holding our daughter skin-to-skin.
I blink, refocusing on the present. None of us care who the babies look like or which one of us is the birth father.
“Mom, you’re not supposed to be down here. We wanted time for it just to be us bonding for now,” I admonish. But when have rules stopped Guliana Calloway?
Strolling further into the room, my mother moves to Emma’s side. “I just want to see my daughter-in-law and ask her if she needs anything. People often forget the mothers after babies are born. Forget that we carried them into the world at the price of our bodies.”
“The guys have all been very attentive, I promise,” Emma smiles, assuring her.
Squeezing her hand, my mother says. “I expect nothing less from my boys.”
I shake my head, “I love you, Mom, but you have to go now. This is our time to bond. You can come back later.”
My mother beams, her eyes filling with so much pride. “Of course, son.” She’s at the threshold of the door when she speaks again. “Always protect your family, and do so ruthlessly, without regard for anyone standing in your way.” Then, she’s gone.
“They’re perfect,” Sebastian murmurs as we watch Emma, Zoey, and Aidan sleep peacefully. I look at our son. He has his mother’s strawberry-blond hair and, like his sister, their mother’s gray eyes-though Aidan’s appear blue-gray while Zoey’s are more silver. Aidan didn’t wait long to follow behind his sister, joining the world thirteen minutes later.
“What are you thinking about so intensely over there?” Emma questions, making me peer up.
The guys are all asleep in various spots throughout the room, much to the nurses’ dismay. But there isn’t a scenario in existence where we’d be anywhere else.
I’ve been lost in my head for hours since my mother left, her words playing on an endless loop. Now, even more than ever, the need to keep my family safe blares like an air horn sounding into my ears. And while I know Emma will never allow us to treat her like a princess in the tower, protecting her from all dangers, I’ll sacrifice myself to keep them from harm.
When I finally meet Emma’s eyes, I lower my walls, showing her the depths of all I hide-letting her see the strength of my love for her and our babies. I need her to understand that I will do something she hates if it means keeping them all safe.
Crossing the room, I stand beside her bed and lower my mouth to hers, then gently cup the back of her neck until our gazes connect before I declare, “I’ll level universes known and unknown to ensure you’re protected.”
“How are you all enjoying fatherhood?” Emma’s uncle inquires while we wait for the Council to exit their chambers.
It’s been almost three weeks since Emma had Zoey and Aidan, and it’s been quite the adjustment. Between feedings, diaper changes, and naps-each day brings a new adventure.
My gaze flits to where he’s sitting, sizing him up. All of our previous interactions have been anything but pleasant. To put it frankly- he’s a dick. One I begrudgingly respect.
Uilliam Bradford is a twenty-seven-year-old business mogul who didn’t acquire his empire through old money. He did it with his fists, taking his earnings from underground mixed martial arts fights and flipping them into one of the world’s largest and most successful MMA training programs.
“It’s been more than we could’ve imagined,” Sebastian replies, and Uilliam smiles.
“Good. Good. That’s what I like to hear,” Uilliam states before his grin melts into a scowl. “Don’t fuck up, and I won’t have to end you. For some dumbass reason, my niece has grown fond of you assholes.”
I want to cut him off, but he’s doing what we’d all do for her-looking out for her best interest. So I allow him to ramble on about how he knows over a dozen ways to kill us.
The door to the Council’s private chambers opens, saving him from Karl, who is conveniently twirling one of his knives.
“Boys,” my father greets as the Council members take their seats. “Let’s get right to it. I’m sure you all would much rather be at home with your soon-to-be wife and babies.”
August snorts, “I wouldn’t go jumping the gun on calling her our wife just yet, Mr. Calloway. We have to ask her first.”
“And she’ll have to say yes,” Tobias adds. Like Emma’s uncle, her grandfather is still far from our biggest fans. To which I say, ‘So the fuck what.’
Their opinions mean shit in the grand scheme of things. I’d marry Emma while she slept, taking a page out of August’s book if she ever refuses to marry us.
I won’t dignify him with a response, opting to do as my father aptly suggests-get on with it.
“We’ve heard no updates on the search and recovery efforts by the Coast Guard. There’s no evidence they’re alive, but there’s no evidence that they aren’t,” my father begins. “Until then, it’s time to finally clean house.”
That captures my attention. “Do we have the names?” Liam inquires, pulling his laptop out.
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.