Page 136 of The Pakhan’s Accidental Bride

"We'll be in the hallway," Devin promises.

They file out one by one, casting worried glances back at me until the door finally closes behind them. The sudden quiet is almost shocking. I can hear my own breathing again, the soft hum of the air conditioning, and the doctor's calm voice as she moves to the foot of the bed.

"Much better," she says with a small smile. "Now, let's see how you're progressing."

Emil stays beside me, his presence solid and reassuring. He hasn't said much through all of this, content to let my brothers fuss while he simply holds my hand and watches me with those dark, intense eyes. Now, with just the three of us in the room, he leans down and presses a kiss to my forehead.

"You're doing amazing," he murmurs against my skin.

"I don't feel amazing," I admit, my voice shaking. "I feel like I'm being torn apart."

"You're bringing our child into the world." His hand moves to brush damp hair back from my face, his touch gentle despite the strength in his fingers. "That's the most amazing thing anyone can do."

The doctor finishes her examination and looks up with an encouraging smile. "You're fully dilated. It's time to push."

Terror and excitement war in my chest. This is it. After nine months of waiting and preparing, of wondering what our child will look like and who they will become, I'm finally going to meet them.

"I'm scared," I whisper to Emil.

"I know." He brings my hand to his lips, kissing my knuckles. "But I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere."

The next while is a blur of pain and effort and the doctor's steady instructions. Push. Breathe. Rest. Push again. Emil never leaves my side, never lets go of my hand, never stops murmuring encouragement, even when I'm sure I can't do this anymore.

"I can see the head," the doctor says, and there's excitement in her voice now. "One more big push, Kiera. You're almost there."

I gather every ounce of strength I have left and push with everything in me. The pressure is enormous, overwhelming, and then suddenly, it releases. A thin, angry cry fills the room, and I collapse back against the pillows, gasping for breath.

"It's a girl," the doctor announces. "A beautiful, healthy girl."

She places the baby on my chest, and I look down at the tiny, red-faced creature who's still crying indignantly about being forced out of her warm, comfortable home. She's covered in vernix and blood, her dark hair plastered to her head, and her little fists are waving in the air. She's perfect.

"Oh, my God," I breathe, my hands coming up to cradle her tiny body. "Emil, look at her."

He's staring at our daughter with an expression I've never seen on his face before. Wonder. Awe. Love so fierce, it takes my breath away. His hand, still holding mine, trembles slightly.

"She's perfect," he says, his voice rough with emotion. "She's absolutely perfect."

"I'm so glad we didn't have a boy," I say with a shaky laugh, tears streaming down my face. "I don't think I could handle another male in this family—not with the four brothers I already have."

Emil chuckles. He leans down and kisses me, soft and sweet, before pressing his lips to our daughter's head. "Thank you," he whispers.

The doctor works efficiently, delivering the placenta and cleaning me up while I hold our baby. She's stopped crying now, her dark eyes, so much like her father's, blinking up at me with unfocused curiosity. I count her fingers and toes and marvel at the tiny perfection of her ears and the bow of her lips.

"Can I hold her?" Emil asks, and there's something almost hesitant in his voice, like he's afraid he might break her.

I carefully transfer our daughter into his arms, watching as this powerful, dangerous man who's killed without hesitation cradles our tiny baby like she's made of glass. He looks down at her with such tenderness that my heart feels like it might burst.

"Hello, little one," he murmurs. "I'm your papa. And I promise you, no one will ever hurt you. Not while I'm alive."

A knock on the door interrupts the moment. "Can we come in now?" Kevin's voice calls from the hallway. "We've been patient, but we're dying out here."

I laugh, wiping at my tears. "Yes. Come in."

The door opens and my four brothers practically tumble into the room, their faces anxious and eager. They stop short when they see Emil holding the baby, their expressions softening immediately.

"Come meet your niece," I say, gesturing them closer.

They crowd around Emil, peering down at the baby with identical expressions of wonder. Even Jack, usually so controlled and professional, has tears in his eyes.