Chapter 37
SAVANNAH
Pain rips across my stomach like a band of fire tightening around my middle.
I gasp, curling forward as much as the zip ties allow. My bound wrists strain against the plastic, cutting deeper into the raw flesh. The baby shifts inside me, pressing down hard, lower than he’s ever been before.
The pain eases after thirty seconds. I breathe through my mouth, trying to stay calm. Trying not to panic.
That’s the third one in the last hour. Maybe the fourth. I’ve lost count of time in this warehouse, don’t know if it’s day or night anymore, but I know those weren’t Braxton Hicks.
Those were real.
My water hasn’t broken yet. That’s good. That means I have time. That means—
Another wave hits. Harder this time. Longer. My stomach goes rock-hard under my hands, the muscles contracting with a force that makes me cry out.
“No.” I’m talking to the baby, to my body, to whatever force is trying to make this happen now. “Not yet. Please not yet.”
But my body doesn’t listen. The contraction peaks, holding me in its grip for forty-five seconds before finally releasing.
I’m shaking when it passes. Sweating despite the cold warehouse air.
That one was stronger. Closer to the last one. This is happening. Whether I’m ready or not.
My baby is coming.
I try to shift position, but my ankles are still bound. The zip ties have cut off circulation—my feet are numb, swollen, useless. My wrists are worse, the plastic soaked with blood from days of struggling.
The warehouse is quiet except for distant voices. Dmitri’s men, somewhere on the other side of the building. They brought me water an hour ago—or maybe it was longer, I can’t tell—but didn’t stay. Didn’t notice me gasping through a contraction while they checked the bindings.
If they realize I’m in labor, what will they do? Let me die here? Cut the baby out themselves?
I push the thought away.
Another contraction. The tightening builds fast, peaking within seconds. I bite my lip to keep from screaming, tasting blood as my teeth break through skin.
Fifty seconds this time. A full fifty seconds of pain so intense I can’t think, can’t breathe, can only endure.
When it passes, I’m crying. Not from fear anymore. From pain. From exhaustion. From the absolute terror of giving birth alone in this filthy warehouse while my baby’s father searches a city that’s on fire.
I know about the fires. Dmitri’s men talk about it, their voices angry and scared. About how Volkov is burning everything. About how twelve operations are gone, how over fifty men are dead, how the city is turning into a war zone.
Ledger is tearing Las Vegas apart, looking for me.
But will he find me in time?
“Please,” I whisper to the darkness, to God, to anyone who might be listening. “Please let him find us. Please don’t let our baby be born here. Please—”
Gunfire erupts outside, right outside the warehouse. Automatic weapons, the rapid pop-pop-pop of multiple guns firing at once.
Men are shouting. Running. More gunfire, closer now.
My heart hammers against my ribs. Is it Ledger? Has he found me?
Or is it rival families, federal agents, or someone else entirely, coming to finish what Dmitri started?
The warehouse door slams open. Heavy boots on concrete, multiple sets running toward the back of the building where Dmitri keeps his men.
An explosion rocks the building. The force of it shakes the walls, sends dust raining down from the rafters. I curl around my stomach instinctively, trying to protect the baby from debris.
More gunfire. Shouting in Russian. Someone screaming.
Another contraction hits. This one is different. Sharper. Lower. And with it comes a rush of warmth between my legs that soaks through my dress and pools on the concrete beneath me.
My water just broke.
“No no no.” I’m gasping now, crying, the contraction still holding me in its grip while wetness spreads across the floor. “Not now. Please not now.”
The door explodes inward. Wood splinters. Metal screams.
And then I see him.
Ledger.
He’s covered in soot and blood, gun in hand, moving through the doorway like death incarnate. His eyes scan the room, find me on the floor, and something in his expression breaks.
“Savannah.”
He runs to me, dropping to his knees beside me. His hands are on my face, checking for injuries, looking at the zip ties cutting into my wrists.
“I’ve got you. You’re safe. I’ve got you.”
“Ledger—” Another contraction hits, cutting off my words. My body arches, stomach going rigid.
He sees it. Sees the wetness pooling beneath me. “No.” His face goes white. “No, it’s too early. You can’t—”
“Water broke,” I manage to gasp out between contractions. “Baby’s coming. Can’t stop it.”
He looks toward the door where gunfire still echoes, then back at me. His jaw tightens with a decision I can see forming.
“Marcus!” he shouts. “Get the nurse in here. Now!”
A woman appears in the doorway seconds later. Wearing jeans and a jacket, but carrying a medical bag. She takes one look at me and moves fast.
“How far apart are the contractions?” she asks, kneeling on my other side.
“Two minutes. Maybe less.” I can barely speak through the pain.
She’s cutting the zip ties off my wrists and ankles with surgical scissors.
Blood rushes back into my hands and feet, the sensation agonizing.
“Okay. We’re going to get you through this.
I’m Sarah, and I’m a labor and delivery nurse.
Mr. Volkov brought me in case—” She glances at Ledger. “In case this happened.”
“The baby’s early.” I’m crying again. “Thirty-two weeks. He’s too small. He won’t—”
“Thirty-two weeks is viable. I’ve delivered babies younger than this who went home healthy.” Sarah is checking my pulse, lifting my dress to assess the situation. Her face goes serious. “You’re fully dilated. This baby is coming now.”
“Now?” Ledger’s voice is tight. “How long?”
“Minutes. Maybe less. She’s in active labor and he’s crowning.”
Another contraction hits. This one is different—overwhelming, all-consuming, my body pushing without my permission. I scream, the sound ripping from my throat.
“I need you to push with the next contraction,” Sarah says. “Can you do that?”
“I can’t. I can’t do this here. Not like this.”
“You don’t have a choice. This baby is coming whether we’re in a hospital or a warehouse.” She looks at Ledger. “I need you to support her back. Get behind her.”
He moves immediately, sitting behind me and pulling me against his chest. His arms wrap around me, solid and strong.
“I’ve got you,” he says into my ear. “You can do this. You’re the strongest person I know.”
“Ledger, I’m scared.”
“I know. But I’m here. I’m not leaving you.”
A figure appears in the doorway. Dmitri. Blood on his suit, gun in his hand, eyes wild.
For a second, everything stops. Ledger’s body goes rigid behind me. I feel his hand move toward his gun.
Dmitri raises his weapon, pointing it at us. “You destroyed everything,” he says. His voice is hoarse, breaking. “Everything I built. My brother’s legacy. All of it.”
“You took my wife.” Ledger’s voice is ice. “What did you think would happen?”
“I thought—” Dmitri’s hand shakes. “I thought I’d have more time. I thought—”
Gunfire erupts from somewhere behind him. He jerks, looks back, then runs. Just turns and runs deeper into the warehouse.
Ledger starts to move, starts to go after him.
“Don’t,” I gasp, grabbing his arm. “Don’t leave me. Please.”
He stops. Looks at the doorway where Dmitri disappeared. Looks down at me.
And he stays.
“Silas!” he shouts. “Dmitri’s heading east through the building. Don’t let him leave.”
“On it!” Silas’s voice echoes from somewhere in the chaos.
Another contraction. The strongest yet. My body is pushing whether I want it to or not, bearing down with a force I can’t control.
“That’s it,” Sarah says. “Push. Good. Keep pushing.”
I push. Scream. Feel something shift, something move.
“I can see the head,” Sarah says. “One more push. One more and you’ll have your baby.”
Ledger’s arms tighten around me. “You’ve got this. Almost there.”
I push again, pouring everything I have into it. Every ounce of strength left in my body after days of captivity, terror, and pain.
And then—
A cry.
Small. Weak. But unmistakably a baby’s cry.
“He’s here,” Sarah says, holding up a tiny, blood-covered baby. “Your baby is here.”