Fall For My Ex’s Mafia Dad
Chapter 281

A cry breaks from my throat too as my eyes fly open and I see Gio reaching lifting up the little baby, and Gio - he's smiling - his face rich with joy as he holds the little baby up and turns him a little - all red and mad - so that I can see. "Well done, Fay," he murmurs as I stumble out a shaky little laugh and lean fully back against Kent, unable to tear my eyes away from the baby. "You did beautifully."

"Give me my baby -" I say, my voice at once somehow breathy and demanding as I lean forward, reaching for it -

"A moment," Kent whispers in my ear, wrapping an arm around me and holding me warm against him, "let them check him out for a second -"

"Him?" I gasp, looking up at Kent in sudden shock and surprise. "It's a -"

"A boy," Kent says, beaming down at me, and I laugh again. "A little boy, Fay -"

"Oh..." I sigh, completely undone by the knowledge of it - a little boy, I have a little boy now, a son...

"Oh lame," Janeen says, and I laugh harder now, looking up to see her still holding the puppy tight in her arms as she scowls a little at the edge of the group of paramedics. "Princess Baby is a boy -" "Don't call my baby lame -" I protest.

"I didn't say the baby was lame," she says, turning her head to me for a moment before staring down again at her beautiful new nephew, "I just said his gender was lame. Which is an undeniable fact, Fay, you can't get mad at that. Plus, now I owe Daniel fifty bucks." The paramedics finish looking him over, cutting the umbilical cord and wrapping him up in one of the towels. I keep my eyes on my child as the doctors help me finish up the messy process of giving birth. And then, once it's all finished? They lay my baby finally into my arms, and I burst into tears.

I stare down into his face through my foggy eyes, trying to wipe the liquid away so I can see him better. But the tears just keep coming.

"You did so wonderfully, Fay," Gio murmurs, leaning close and kissing me on the cheek. "It all went well - a textbook home birth. The paramedics and I don't have any concerns, all right? So you just relax."

I look up at him briefly and nod, barely hearing what he's saying, and perhaps intuiting this he shifts his gaze to Kent and nods steadily to him. "We'll be here, all right? To monitor. But we'll give you two a few minutes alone with your son." "Thank you, Gio," I whisper, looking back at my baby. I shake my head, still baffled as I stare at his perfect, tiny little face -

"They're dragging me away," I jump a little as I hear Janeen's disappointed voice and I look up to see her kneeling by my side. She kisses me quickly on the cheek. "I'll be back soon to hold that baby, all right? They can only keep me away so long." I smile at her and nod, but, inevitably, my gaze turns back to my son.

"Will you call dad?" I suddenly ask my sister as I feel her move away from my side. "He went to town - will you call him? Tell him to come back?"

"You got it, sis," Janeen says quietly, and then she's gone.

And abruptly it's just me, and Kent, and our son. Sitting on the living room floor in our suddenly-quiet house.

"Kent," I whisper, my whole body trembling a little with pain and exhaustion and shock as I turn in his arms a little so that he can see the baby too. I glance up at him. "Is this real?"

He laughs a little. "It's real, love," he murmurs, leaning forward to kiss my hair, and then my cheek, and then to peer at the little baby in my arms. Slowly, Kent raises his hand and brushes it against the baby's cheek. The baby is quiet now, blinking his little eyes and wiggling a little. "He's beautiful."

"He's mad," I whisper, studying his face curiously. Kent bursts out laughing again.

And the baby - he really is mad. He has a tiny button nose, and perfect pink little lips turned down in an angry frown. And eyebrows - god, they're already knit together, like he inherited the expression from his dad...

"He's bound to be mad," Kent murmurs, and I can hear the smile in his voice. "He was just born, it's probably a very shocking experience."

"Poor baby," I murmur, leaning forward to press a kiss to his little head. And then I pull away, content to stare at him, to study him again. "I can't believe you're here," I murmur, stroking his little cheek with my finger. He has a little fuzz of hair on his head already, but I grin when I see that it's not Lippert black.

I mean, it's not red either - but it's light. Will it darken? What color will it be?

"I think he looks like me," I say quietly after a moment of studying my kid, smug.

"No way," Kent murmurs, his voice deep and content, rumbling in his chest. "He's got my looks. Lucky kid."

"He'd better not," I say, dry. "I am not having another Lippert clone wandering around this house - I won't be able to tell the three of you apart." Kent laughs again, harder this time, before tucking a finger beneath my chin and lifting my face up to his.

"And how are you feeling?" he asks, worry returning to his voice now. Because, as much as the doctors have given me the okay, it's still been one hell of a day.

I stare up into Kent's gorgeous face for a long moment before returning my eyes to my beautiful baby. And as much as I'm thrilled to finally hold him in my arms...

I don't know. I feel...very conflicted. My body hurts - and my mind suddenly flashes to Ivan, and my mother with her arms tied behind her back -

And I sigh, and close my eyes, and lean heavily against Kent. "I feel tired," I say, meaning it. A bone-deep, soul-deep kind of tired. Kent tightens his arms around me as he sighs, letting me rest my head against his chest.

"I know, sweetheart," he murmurs. "You can sleep now. You can rest. I'll make sure of that."

I nod, believing him for a moment.

But then I remember that I have a newborn.

"No, I can't," I say, frustrated, sitting up a little.

"What?" Kent goes tense behind me.

"I have to feed him, Kent, and take care of him," I murmur. "He's just a little baby -"

"Well, I'll help you."

"Damn right you'll help me," I say, turning to glare at him a little. This just makes his face burst into a grin and, impulsively, he leans forward and kisses me.

And I kiss him right back, leaning into it, wanting it, needing it. And I laugh a little as the kiss, and all of Kent's love behind it, brings me slowly back to myself.

"I love you, Kent," I murmur as I pull back a little, feeling the baby squirm in my arms. "And I'm really happy. I am just...very tired."

"I love you way more," he replies, sighing. "And him too," he says, nodding to the baby.

"Do you want to hold him?" I ask, sitting up straight and realizing suddenly that I've been selfish, hogging the baby.

"Of course I want to hold him," Kent murmurs, "it's my kid. I'm going to hold him so much he'll be sick of it." And then he gently unwraps his arms from their place around me and takes his son into his arms.

I realize how hard I'm smiling when my cheeks start to ache. But I can't help it - it's just such a wonderful sight, watching Kent rock our brand-new baby in his arms.

"Hey, little guy," Kent murmurs, smiling down at our son, who fusses unhappily in his arms.

"He likes me better," I say, leaning over to stroke a finger down the baby's belly, still wrapped in his towel. "He's not so fussy with me."

Kent shoots me a little glare, but he ignores my words. Instead, he just leans forward and kisses his son's soft head, murmuring to him softly in Italian. And I don't know precisely what he says, but the gist is clear: that he loves him, and that he always will, and that no matter what happens in this world? He'll always keep him safe.

And my eyes fill with tears, because I know that it's very, very true.

That Kent - in so many ways he's ruthless, and cold, and has a capacity for violence that in some ways goes unmatched.

But with me, with the baby, his family?

With us, he is unerringly kind and protective.

And most importantly, mine.

Or, at least, ours now. Because as I lean my head again against him and stare down at my baby in his arms, I feel the very true connection between all of us.

We are a family now. And Kent and I? We'll fight to the death for that.