Page 87 of Forced Bratva Kidnapped Virgin
“Come on!” The doctor clapped once. “Just one more push!”
Kiera closed her eyes so tightly I thought they would pop. And with what seemed to be the last of what little strength she had left, she pushed.
Seconds later, the cry of a baby filled the room, the unfamiliar sound hitting me like a dagger to the chest.
“You did it, Mrs. Tarasov,” the doctor said, rising with the bloodied infant in his arms. “Congratulations.”
Only then did her body go slack against the pillows, her fingers loosening weakly around mine. Strands of damp hair clung to her forehead, her skin flushed and slick with sweat.
Her shaky breaths came in uneven gasps as her chest rose and fell. Exhaustion washed over her pale face as though the fight had suddenly drained out of her.
She didn’t bother sitting up; she just lay there, eyes struggling to stay open. Her lips curled into a faint grin when she met my gaze, her body still trembling.
The amount of strength this woman had displayed tonight was like none I’d ever seen. She endured one of the worst kinds of pain known to man, and she survived.
Watching her give life was traumatizing as fuck, and that image would stick with me for the rest of my days. Realizing the tremendous pain that mothers endure to bring a child into this world made me start rethinking everything.
I’d been taught to take the lives of those who crossed us and not feel a thing about it. But seeing the agony of childbirth, I couldn’t help wondering what exactly gave me the right to take a life I couldn’t give.
The respect I had for my wife and every other mother out there multiplied tenfold. These women deserved better than how most men treated them. They should be adored, respected, and valued for all their sacrifices.
I’d spent enough time around men in agony to understand the hierarchy of pain. And what I’d witnessed tonight was on the top of that list.
“Hey,” I called softly, sitting on the edge of her bed. “You did it.”
“No.” She beamed at me. “We did it. Both of us.”
“I am so proud of you, Kiera,” I whispered, my tone laced with sincerity.
Tears trickled down her cheeks.
“Here you go.” The doctor materialized beside me, holding the infant wrapped in a white cloth. “It’s a boy.”
My brows arched, and I glanced back at my wife, who had the most beautiful smile on her face.
I rose to my feet, and the tiny little creature was placed in my arms. The second I looked at the baby, something frozen melted within me. His small fingers were clenched together, his eyes barely open.
“Handsome,” I said, my heart swelling with joy.
“I wanna hold him.” Kiera sat upright, her back against the wall, arms stretched out.
“Of course.” I carefully handed him over to his mother.
She accepted the infant, who was making little snuffling sounds as he breathed through his tiny nostrils. Her smile broadened. “Hey, cutie pie,” she whispered. “Welcome to Earth.”
I sank into the edge of the bed again, a thousand thoughts overlapping in my mind. “This is the best gift anyone has ever given me.”
She raised her head, her sparkling eyes locking with mine
“Thank you.”
Her response was a gorgeous smile that reached her ears.
How could something so pure come from a life soaked in sin?
Our child was too innocent for the world we lived in. And it wasn’t until now that I understood why, earlier, Kiera didn’t want our kid to be a part of my life.
She’d looked into the future and was afraid for the baby’s safety. I hadn’t understood her then, but I did now. And it terrified me.
