Chapter 8 - THE DAY THE BABY CAME TOO EARLY
The contractions began at 3:18 a.m.
Vivian woke with a sharp tightening across her abdomen.
She lay still.
Waited.
The pain faded.
She told herself it was nothing.
Then another contraction came.
Stronger.
She reached for her phone.
Eleanor answered immediately.
“Vivian?”
“I think something's wrong.”
Eleanor was at her door within seconds.
She checked the time between contractions.
Then looked at Vivian.
“We're going to the hospital.”
Vivian's heart pounded.
“It's too early.”
“I know.”
“Eleanor—”
“Sweetheart, look at me.”
Vivian met her eyes.
“We're going to get you medical care.”
At the hospital, doctors examined her.
The contractions continued.
The baby was only thirty-two weeks along.
Vivian lay in a hospital bed with monitors attached to her stomach.
She listened to the heartbeat.
Fast.
Steady.
Then she began crying.
“Please,” she whispered. “Not yet.”
A doctor explained the situation carefully.
They would monitor her and provide treatment appropriate to her condition.
The goal was to protect both mother and baby.
Vivian nodded.
But fear sat like ice in her chest.
She had spent months worrying about Matteo.
Salerno.
The financial records.
Her sister.
Now none of it mattered.
Only the heartbeat.
Only the tiny boy she hadn't met.
Only the desperate hope that he would be okay.
Eleanor held her hand.
“Breathe.”
Vivian tried.
Then she whispered, “I want Matteo.”
The words surprised her.
Eleanor didn't judge.
“Do you want me to call him?”
Vivian closed her eyes.
She thought about the locked bedroom.
The kiss.
The betrayal.
Then she thought about the baby.
“He's his father,” she whispered.
Eleanor nodded.
“I'll contact Daniel first.”
The attorney coordinated a message through Matteo's counsel.
Matteo received the call at 4:06 a.m.
He was in his study.
He hadn't slept.
When his attorney said Vivian was in the hospital, he stood so quickly his chair struck the wall.
“What happened?”
“She's experiencing preterm labor.”
Matteo stopped breathing.
“Is she okay?”
“We don't have full details.”
“The baby?”
“Still being monitored.”
Matteo closed his eyes.
For a moment, he couldn't speak.
Then he asked, “Does she want me there?”
His attorney hesitated.
“She asked to notify you.”
Matteo swallowed.
“That's not the same thing.”
“No.”
He nodded.
“Ask whether she'd like me to come. I'll respect her answer.”
The attorney called back twenty minutes later.
“Matteo?”
“Yes?”
“She said you may come to the hospital.”
Matteo closed his eyes.
“Thank you.”
He arrived before sunrise.
No entourage.
No armed guards crowding the hallway.
Just a frightened man in a dark coat.
Eleanor met him outside Vivian's room.
She looked at him for a long moment.
“Mr. Draven.”
“Eleanor.”
“You hurt her.”
Matteo lowered his head.
“I know.”
“She trusted you.”
“I know.”
Eleanor's expression hardened.
“If you make this harder for her, I'll have you removed.”
Matteo nodded.
“Understood.”
She opened the door.
Vivian lay in the hospital bed.
Pale.
Exhausted.
Beautiful.
Her hand rested on her stomach.
When she saw him, her eyes filled.
Matteo stopped at the doorway.
“Viv.”
She swallowed.
“Come in.”
He approached slowly.
“Are you okay?”
She laughed weakly.
“No.”
His face crumpled.
He sat beside the bed.
“I'm sorry.”
Vivian looked away.
“Not now.”
He nodded.
“Okay.”
She gripped the blanket.
“I'm scared.”
Matteo's eyes filled.
“I know.”
“The baby's too early.”
He reached toward her hand.
Stopped.
“May I?”
Vivian hesitated.
Then nodded.
He took her hand.
For a moment, they were simply two frightened parents.
Not a mafia boss and his betrayed wife.
Not a powerful man and the woman who escaped him.
Just a mother and father waiting to hear that their son would survive.
Matteo bowed his head.
“I don't care about the estate,” he whispered.
Vivian looked at him.
“I don't care about the money. I don't care about any of it.”
His voice broke.
“I just want you both safe.”
Vivian began crying.
Matteo held her hand.
May you like
And for the first time in four years, he didn't tell her what to do.
He simply stayed.
