Page 93 of Never Distract a Biker

The hospital entrance is a flurry of activity. Dr. Damien and a team of nurses wait outside, their expressions professional but tinged with urgency.

“Lev called me,” Damien says as I help Scarlett out of the car. His eyes flicker to her pale face, then back to me. “He said the Bratva queen has gone into labor.”

Scarlett lets out a soft laugh despite the pain. “Queen, huh? That’s a stretch.”

I tighten my grip on her waist, guiding her towards the chair the staff has wheeled out. “You heard him,” I murmur. “That makes me your king.”

Scarlett rolls her eyes but leans into me as another contraction hits. Her groan is muffled against my chest, and I feel her nails dig into my forearm.

“She’s a strong one,Pakhan,” Damien observes as they settle her onto the gurney. “You’ll both do fine.”

I nod, my jaw tightening. Strong doesn’t even begin to describe Scarlett.

In the delivery room, the air is thick with tension and anticipation. Scarlett grips my hand, her nails digging into my skin every time a contraction wracks her body. Her strenuous breathing is a mix of shallow gasps and deep, desperate gulps of air.

“Breathe, Scarlett,” I urge, leaning close to her ear. “You’ve got this.”

She glares at me through the pain. “Easy for you to say. You are not popping out babies from your hole,” she snaps, then wincesas another contraction hits. Her strength amazes me, even as she curses under her breath.

I’ve faced gunfire, betrayal, and death, but this … this is a different kind of battle. Watching her fight to bring our children into the world ignites a fierce respect and admiration I didn’t think possible. My free hand brushes damp strands of hair from her forehead, and I press a kiss there.

“You’re incredible,” I whisper, meaning every word.

Damien’s calm instructions fill the room, and Scarlett bears down with a strength that takes my breath away. Finally, a sharp, piercing cry breaks through the tension.

“It’s a girl,” Damien announces, placing the tiny, wriggling bundle in Scarlett’s arms.

Scarlett’s exhaustion melts away as she gazes down at our daughter, her face softening with wonder. I reach out, my hand trembling slightly, and touch the baby’s cheek. Her skin is impossibly soft, her cries filling the room with life.

“She’s beautiful,” Scarlett whispers, tears glistening in her eyes.

I nod, unable to speak as I cradle the baby in my arms. The weight of her feels monumental, a reminder of the new life we’ve created together. But just as they whisk her away to be cleaned, Scarlett gasps sharply, her body tensing.

It’s another contraction.

“She’s ready,” Damien says, his voice steady.

Moments later, another cry pierces the room.

“It’s a boy,” Damien announces, handing the second baby to Scarlett. She looks at me, her face radiant despite the exhaustion.

“You’re amazing,” I tell her, my voice thick with emotion as I take the boy into my arms. He’s smaller than I expected, but his tiny fists clench with surprising strength.

“Twins,” Scarlett murmurs, her voice filled with awe. “We made twins.”

I press a kiss to her forehead. “You did it,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper. “You brought them into the world.”

Once Scarlett is cleaned up and moved to the presidential suite, I sit beside her, watching her hold our daughter. She’s beautiful, even in exhaustion, and the twins—our twins—are a miracle I never expected.

“They’re perfect,” she whispers, her voice filled with awe.

“They take after their mother,” I reply, pressing a kiss to her temple.

For the first time in a long time, I feel peace. This is what I’ve fought for. This is what I’ll protect with everything I have.

The door opens, and Yelena, Alina, Lev, and Zasha enter. They approach the bassinets with reverence, their faces softening as they look at the twins.

“Future Bratva royalty,” Lev jokes, though there’s pride in his voice.

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