Dominic Royal
The morning came early, and my stomach was doing flips all muhfuckin’ night long.
Carmen felt the same way that’s why I stayed with her last night while she slept on my chest. I was up before Carmen, moving quietly around her place, letting her sleep a little longer.
The city was just waking up outside, and it was the best time of the day.
By the time she finally woke up to get ready for her first doctor’s appointment, the truck was already out front, with the driver waiting, and my people posted in plain clothes so we could move lowkey.
She walked out of the bedroom dressed in a simple cream sundress, with gold hoops, and her hair slicked back in a bun. She looked peaceful and she was really glowing for real. She had that kind of glow you can’t buy or sit on the beach to get. I kept staring… and maybe too long until she smirked.
“What?” she asked, sliding on her shades.
“Nothing,” I replied, standing up to take her hand into mine. “You just look like happiness.”
She rolled her eyes, trying not to smile. “You better save that smooth talk for the doctor’s office, and for the record, despite our crazy world, yes Dom, I’m happy.”
I could see that look in her eyes and she meant it.
It made me feel good as a man to know that I was slowly playing a role in that.
I never cared about no woman’s happiness.
I never gave a fuck until now. We stepped into the elevator together, and by the time the doors opened to the lobby, two of my people were already in place.
They nodded and led the way. Outside, the air was once again humid and sticky.
I opened the door for her, and she slid in.
The drive up to Aventura was quiet, and the traffic was light. She held my hand the whole way with her thumb tracing my knuckles like it kept her content or kept her mind off the appointment. The closer we got, the slower time moved; at least that’s what it seemed like anyway.
The doctor’s office was tucked in a luxury plaza between a diamond jeweler and a skincare clinic, on the top floor, with a private entrance.
My people swept through first, and made sure everything was secure.
Inside, the lobby looked more like a boutique hotel than a medical space with marble floors, orchids on the counter, and soft jazz playing low.
The receptionist smiled too hard when she saw me, but her professionalism kicked back in fast when she noticed Carmen too.
“Mrs. Royal,” she said politely. “Doctor Alvarez will see you shortly.”
Carmen looked at me with a smirk. “I really had to put it under Mrs. Royal? I only did what you asked.”
I shrugged. “Made it easier.”
We sat in the waiting area, with her hand on my leg, and both of us pretending to scroll our phones from time to time like we were working.
Then the medical assistant called her name, and we followed her down a quiet hallway lined with framed photographs of newborn babies.
It was spotless and well sanitized back here and I liked that.
Hell, it cost enough to be seen at the top-rated offices anyway so it better had been worth it. Plus, a lot of celebrities came here.
The assistant took Carmen’s vitals first. Her blood pressure, temperature, all that before walking her to the bathroom with a little plastic cup.
I leaned against the wall outside, watching her label the vials, moving efficiently like she’d done it a thousand times. Carmen came out rolling her eyes.
“You men got it easy,” she said.
I grinned. “I don’t know, baby. I’d trade a few bullets for all them tests you takin’.”
She laughed and sat back on the bed while the assistant tied a band around her arm and drew blood.
I watched her flinch when the needle went in, then breathe through it.
The sight did something to me, but it wasn’t fear, nor pity about our baby.
It was just a different kind of respect for her for even risking her life to carry my baby because I heard that delivering a child is the closest a woman can come to death.
I ain’t scared of nothing but seeing her like that made me want to protect her from everything, even a needle.
Once the assistant finished, she said, “Doctor Alvarez will be right in,” and left.
The door opened a few minutes later, and this tall woman walked in wearing a white coat and warm smile. “Good morning,” she said with a light Spanish accent. “I’m Dr. Alvarez. You must be the father.”
I nodded, shaking her hand. “That’s right.”
Carmen smiled at her, polite but glowing. Dr. Alvarez flipped through her chart. “Everything looks good so far. Today we’ll do an early ultrasound to get a more exact date and check the heartbeat. You ready to see your baby?”
Carmen nodded. I stayed standing beside her, with my hands in my pockets, but my chest felt tight as hell. The doctor dimmed the lights, turned on the machine, and squeezed a bit of cold gel across Carmen’s stomach causing her to wince and softly laugh.
“Cold,” she said.
Dr. Alvarez smiled. “Sorry about that. Let’s take a look.” The screen flickered a few times, and then there it was… a small flicker in the middle of a shadow. “That right there,” the doctor said, pointing to the heartbeat. “That’s your baby.”
The sound filled the room, and it was a quick, strong rhythm.
It was tiny and fast, like real fuckin’ fast. Carmen gasped and covered her mouth.
Tears slid silently slid down her cheek, I didn’t even realize I was holding my breath until the doctor smiled at me. I had never seen Carmen cry until now.
“You want to sit, Mr. Royal?”
I shook my head with my eyes still locked on that screen. “I’m good right here.”
That heartbeat hit different right now. I’d seen men die, seen money move, seen cities fold to my name too, but nothing ever felt like that sound. That little echo beating inside her was louder than every gunshot I’d ever heard in my life. I’d lay down my life for my baby.
Dr. Alvarez printed a few pictures and wiped the gel away. “You’re measuring about nine weeks,” she said. “Everything looks healthy. I’ll send your labs to the portal when they’re ready. In the meantime, enjoy your pregnancy to the fullest. Congratulations again.”
“Thank you,” Carmen said, in a shaky but happy voice. The doctor smiled, handed her the sonogram pictures, and left us alone for a moment.
Carmen turned to me, holding up the printout. “Look at that,” she whispered. “That’s our baby.”
I sat on the edge of the bed and kissed her hand then her forehead. “That’s our blessing.”
For a while, neither of us said nothing.
We just sat there with her leaning into me, as I held her while we processed it all because this was deep and I felt peace…
the kind I hadn’t felt since before I ever picked up a gun.
When we left the building, the sun was shining a little bit differently.
The sun hit hard now, reflecting off the cars and our skin.
I opened the door for her, and just as she stepped out, a voice shouted from across the street.
“Yo, that’s Dom Royal!”
Two paparazzi turned their lenses toward us from outside a rooftop brunch spot where they were hosting some kind of celebrity brunch. Cameras started flashing like strobe lights. One of them zoomed straight in on Carmen’s hand that held the sonogram pictures.
“Yo, is that a baby photo?!” another yelled.
My people moved fast, stepping between us and the street, blocking every angle.
One of them growled, “Cut that camera, now!” The paparazzi kept shooting anyway.
Carmen’s arm tightened around mine, but she didn’t panic, if anything she wanted to shoot and so did I.
I was known of course, we were the Royals, but it wasn’t often I had a camera flashing in my face because of it.
I didn’t need that kind of press in my face, especially after this shit with El Blanca.
I guided her straight into the truck, shut the door, and signaled the driver to take off. The second the engine started going my people handled the rest. By the time we pulled off, I could see one of the photographers getting his camera snatched.
Carmen chuckled beside me. “Well,” she said, “so much for keeping it lowkey.”
I looked over at her, still holding the sonogram. “They were bound to find out sooner or later.”
She smiled, resting her hand on her stomach. “Guess it’s time we tell the family.”
“Not just the family,” I said, pulling out my phone.
I opened the encrypted network we used to reach every Royal soldier worldwide.
The app was black screen and gold font, built by our own coder.
I typed the message slow, made sure every word hit because I’d rather them hear it from us rather than a story being leaked just in case.
Text: To all Royals worldwide, the line continues. Carmen’s carrying the next generation. Protect what’s ours.
I attached the picture of the sonogram, encrypted it twice, and hit send. Within seconds, the notification pinged across the map from Miami, Houston, Colombia, London, the islands. A message that couldn’t be traced but would be felt everywhere.
Carmen leaned her head on my shoulder smiling. “You really just told the world.”
“I told our world,” I said, kissing her forehead.
She closed her eyes as the truck cruised the street. We had a future to prepare for with a baby to protect with our life.