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I nod weakly, the trauma rising in my chest.
A sudden, terrifying thought hits me. I clutch my stomach in panic. “The baby! Lara, is my baby okay?” I try to sit up, heart racing.
Lara gently presses me back down. “Shh, rest.”
“Please, tell me,” I beg.
Lara sighs, her voice steady. “There was some bleeding and uterine trauma, but the baby is fine. Strong heartbeat. You're both going to be okay.”
Relief washes over me, and I slump back with tears streaming down my face. “Thank God,” I whisper.
Lara smiles warmly. “Congratulations. It's not ideal, but it's wonderful news.”
“I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner,” I murmur, guilt twisting my stomach.
“Hush,” she says, squeezing my hand. “You have nothing to apologize for. You're both safe. We’ll get through this together.”
“Thank you,” I breathe, exhaustion taking over.
But then my eyes snap open, a new thought jolting through me like an electric current. “Mark,” I rasp. “Where is he? Does he...does he know?”
Lara's expression softens with understanding. “He knows, Quinn. The doctor informed him during a routine update after they checked on you when you were first admitted.”
I swallow hard, my heart hammering against my ribs. “How did he react? Was he angry? Upset?” My voice cracks on the last word, betraying the depth of my fear.
“Oh, Honey.” Lara brushes a strand of hair from my forehead, her eyes full of compassion. “He was worried sick about you. He stayed by your side for days, refusing to leave until our brothers practically dragged him out to get some rest.”
I blink, trying to process this information through the haze of medication and exhaustion. “He stayed with me?” I whisper, hardly daring to believe it.
Lara nods, a small smile playing at the corners of her mouth. “He did. I've never seen him like that before, Quinn. He was so focused on you, so desperate for you to be okay. It was like nothing else mattered.”
I feel my heartbeat ramp up in speed. The idea that he might want this baby...it's almost too much to comprehend.
The road ahead is far from clear, but for the first time since I woke up, I feel at peace. “Okay,” I whisper, meeting Lara's steady gaze. “Okay.”
***
The door opens, and my heart leaps as Mark steps inside. His usual polish is gone—hair tousled, a shadow of a beard on his jaw. But it's his eyes that stop me—haunted, raw.
“Quinn,” he breathes, my name falling like a prayer. In a heartbeat, he's by my side, his large hand enveloping mine. “You're awake. Thank God.”
His touch is tender, desperate, making my chest tighten.
“I'm okay,” I rasp. “You know about the baby...?”
A knock interrupts, and the doctor enters. Sensing the charged air, her warm smile flickers between Mark and me. “Ms. Desmond, Mr. Zolotov,” she greets, calm and professional. I have updates on your condition and the baby.”
My heart races with dreadful anticipation. What’s the news? Will this be too much for Mark? His hand tightens around mine, an unspoken promise that he’s here.
The doctor checks her chart, expression neutral. “Both you and the baby are stable. The bleeding has stopped, and we’ve prevented further complications.”
Relief floods me, nearly stealing my breath. Our baby is safe. That’s all that matters.
I study Mark, watching his reaction. His brow furrows, his eyes widen slightly as the doctor confirms our baby’s health.And then, a smile—small but unmistakable—tugs at the corners of his mouth. Pure joy.
It’s a revelation. The notorious playboy, the arrogant Bratva boss, is now a man who is awestruck by the miracle inside me. In that moment, something shifts within me. Maybe he really wants this baby. Wants us.
As the doctor leaves, Mark turns to me, his expression softening. My heart pounds. This is it. The moment of truth.