Chapter 5 - The Confrontation in the Storm
Victor stepped over the threshold, drenched from head to toe, his dark hair plastered against his forehead, his tailored coat heavy with rainwater. His eyes swept the room in a single, desperate arc, bypassing Aaron’s gun, bypassing his mother’s revolver, until they landed entirely on Lena.
"Lena," he breathed.
It was a sound of such absolute, terrifying relief that it seemed to strip the air right out of the room. He took two fast steps forward.
"Stop right there, Victor!" Aaron roared, bringing his Glock up, aiming it dead center at Victor’s chest. "You take one more step toward her, and I swear to God I’ll put you down!"
Victor didn't stop. He didn't even look at Aaron’s gun. It was as if the weapon didn't exist in his universe.
"Shoot me then," Victor said, his voice flat, hollow, devoid of fear. "Shoot me, Aaron. But I’m not leaving this room without looking at my wife."
"Victor, stop!" Evelyn shouted, stepping between the two men, her revolver lowered. "She’s in labor, you idiot! Her body is failing under the stress!"
Victor froze. The word echoed in his mind like an explosion. Labor.
He looked past his mother to where Lena stood leaning against the sofa, her face white as chalk, sweat glistening on her forehead, her small hands clutching her bump as her whole body trembled with physical agony.
"Lena..." Victor whispered, his tough, terrifying exterior shattering into a million jagged pieces. He dropped his cane, dropped his leather gloves onto the floor, and sank to his knees right there on the rug, ten feet away from her.
The mighty Don of the Hail Syndicate, a man worth hundreds of millions, a man who controlled half the shipping lanes on the Eastern Seaboard, was kneeling on a cabin rug in front of his wife, weeping silently into his hands.
"I didn't touch her, Lena," Victor sobbed, his shoulders shaking violently. "I swear on my father’s grave... I swear on our unborn daughter’s life... I never touched Raven. I was stupid. I was blind. I let a snake into my house because I thought I could manage everything. But I never betrayed you. I have never loved another woman in my entire life."
Lena looked down at him. Through the blinding haze of her pain, through the agonizing contractions tearing through her lower body, she saw the man she had married—not the mob boss, not the ruthless criminal, but the man who used to hold her hand under the table at family dinners, the man who stayed awake all night when she had the flu, rubbing her back until she fell asleep.
"Victor..." she gasped, her legs giving out completely beneath her weight.
Victor didn't wait for Aaron’s permission. He lunged forward from his knees, catching Lena before her body hit the floorboards. He gathered her up into his arms, lifting her effortlessly, pulling her close against his chest despite his wet coat.
"I’ve got you," he whispered frantically, kissing her sweaty forehead, her temples, her wet cheeks over and over again. "I’ve got you, baby. I’m here. I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry."
"Victor... it hurts..." she wept, burying her face into his wet collar, her fingers digging desperately into his shoulders. "The baby... she’s coming... it’s too early..."
Evelyn hurried over, dropping her bag onto the coffee table. She pulled back Lena’s sweater slightly, checking her pulse, pressing her hand firmly against her abdomen.
"Her water hasn't broken yet, but her contractions are less than three minutes apart," Evelyn declared, her voice laced with extreme urgency. "We can't drive her forty miles down a muddy mountain road in an ambulance. She’ll give birth in the back of a van in a storm."
"Balthazar!" Victor roared toward the open front door.
Balthazar appeared instantly in the doorway, soaked in rain, holding a tactical radio. "Boss!"
"Get the medical chopper from Columbia Presbyterian up here NOW!" Victor commanded, his eyes blazing with a fierce, absolute determination. "Tell Dr. Vance that if his surgical team isn't in that helicopter within ten minutes, I will tear down his hospital brick by brick!"
"The storm is too heavy, Boss!" Balthazar reported grimly. "Civilian aircraft are grounded across the entire county!"
Aaron stepped forward, putting his gun back into his holster. He pulled out his satellite phone, tapping three digits.
"This is Major Aaron Blake, retired," Aaron said into the receiver, his voice calm, clear, and commanding. "I need an emergency medical evacuation from the 103rd Rescue Wing at Stratton Air Base. Code Alpha. Maternal emergency. My grid location is November-Seven-Zero-Four."
He listened for two seconds, then looked at Victor.
"Pave Hawk helicopter is inbound," Aaron said. "Flight time eighteen minutes. They have military flight medics on board. Prepare her for transport to the landing zone in the upper clearing."
Victor looked at Aaron, his dark eyes filled with a raw, profound gratitude he had never offered another man in his life. He nodded once—a silent, absolute pact between two men who loved the same woman.
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"Thank you, Aaron," Victor said softly.
"Don't thank me," Aaron replied coldly, stepping toward the door to mark the landing zone with flares. "If my sister or that baby suffers one complication, I’m still going to kill you."
