Chapter 32
Viktor
Hazel's due date arrived three weeks after I got out of the hospital.
At four in the morning, I woke to a soft moan. My eyes snapped open, and I looked over—Hazel was curled up on the bed, hands gripping the sheets tight. Sweat beaded her forehead.
Her due date was still a few days out, but I knew something was wrong.
I sat up fast and shook her awake, gentle but urgent.
"Hazel." I kept my voice low. "We need to get to the hospital."
Her eyes fluttered open, confused and weak.
"Sorry..." she gasped. "Did I wake you? I just... I think maybe I ate something bad... my stomach hurts a little..."
I didn't give her a chance to argue. I threw back the covers.
That's when I saw it—a huge wet patch on the sheets.
"Your water broke." My voice came out tight with tension. "Hazel, your water broke."
She froze, looked down at herself, then her eyes went wide with shock.
"I... I didn't even feel it..." Her voice started shaking. "Viktor, does that mean—"
"We need to go." I cut her off, already jumping out of bed and throwing on clothes as fast as I could. "Right now."
I helped her up carefully, grateful I'd booked that private hospital room weeks ago. Top-of-the-line equipment, best medical team money could buy, ready whenever we needed it.
Hazel had laughed at me when I insisted on reserving it so early.
Now it looked like the smartest damn decision I'd ever made.
We moved fast. Five minutes later we were in the car, the driver pulling out while I held Hazel in the back seat.
I thought we had time. But on the way to the hospital, Hazel's pain kicked into high gear.
She started gasping hard, her whole body trembling. Every few minutes a violent contraction hit, and she'd grab my hand so tight her nails nearly broke skin.
"Viktor..." she cried. "It hurts... it really hurts..."
"I know, baby." I held her close. "Hold on. We're almost there."
Finally, we pulled up to the hospital.
The doctors and nurses were already waiting at the entrance. They rushed Hazel straight to the exam room.
Minutes later, the doctor came out.
"Mr. Gromov." Her face was serious. "She's ready to deliver. We need to prep the operating room immediately."
Fuck. I wasn't ready for it to happen this fast.
Her due date was still days away. I thought I'd have more time to prepare.
But the world doesn't wait. Before I knew it, Hazel was being wheeled into the delivery room.
Labor lasted four hours.
The longest, most brutal four hours of my life.
When Anya was born, I'd been out of town handling family business. By the time I got back, she was already here. I'd missed her coming into this world. One of my biggest regrets.
So this time, I cleared my entire schedule. Handed everything off to Jack that required travel.
I was going to be here, right beside Hazel, to witness our child's birth.
But I hadn't expected childbirth to be so violent.
Hazel lay on the delivery bed, pale as paper. Sweat soaked her hair, plastering it to her forehead and cheeks. Every contraction made her whole body go rigid, her face twisting in agony.
But even in all that pain, she was incredibly strong.
She stayed calm, following the doctor's instructions, controlling her breathing. Between contractions, she even tried to comfort me.
"Don't worry..." she said weakly. "I'll be fine... we'll both be fine..."
Compared to Hazel, I was completely losing it.
My hands shook. My heart hammered like it was trying to break through my ribs.
Watching her suffer like that—I would've traded places with her in a heartbeat.
But I couldn't do a damn thing.
All I could do was stand there, hold her hand, and say useless words of encouragement.
I'd never felt so fucking helpless in my life.
Faced with Hazel's pain, I was powerless.
"I can see the head!" the doctor said excitedly. "One more push! Push!"
Hazel let out one final scream, a sound so raw it nearly tore my heart in half.
Then—
A loud cry shattered the suffocating tension in the delivery room.
"It's a girl!" the nurse announced happily.
My heart stopped.
The nurse quickly took the baby to clean her up, then came back carrying that tiny, red, crying little life.
I saw my daughter for the first time.
She was so small I was afraid my rough hands would hurt her. Her skin was wrinkled, still covered in blood and fluid. But when she cried, I heard the most beautiful sound in the world.
Hazel smiled weakly, tears streaming down her face.
"She's going to be a beautiful little girl," she whispered.
I looked down at the baby in the blanket. She seemed like a feisty little thing, crying loud and strong.
I'd never felt so happy in my entire life.
This tiny creature was a miracle that Hazel and I had created together.
"What's her name?" the nurse asked softly.
Hazel looked at me. I brought the baby close to her, and we leaned in together beside our daughter.
"Sofia," Hazel said quietly. "Sofia Gromov."
"Sofia," I repeated the name we'd spent so long thinking about, then kissed our daughter's soft forehead.
"Welcome to the world, my little princess."
I wanted Hazel to stay in the hospital for a week.
Even though the doctor said she was recovering well and Hazel kept insisting she wanted to go home, I refused to budge.
"Viktor, you're being way too paranoid," Hazel said, exasperated. "The doctor said I'm fine."
"I don't care what the doctor says." I was stubborn. "After everything you just went through, you need the best care possible. I'm not taking any chances."
Hazel looked at me and finally gave in.
"Fine." She sighed. "Whatever you say."
To avoid disturbing Hazel's rest, I scheduled all the visitors for the same day.
That afternoon, Anya burst in first.
"Hazel!" She rushed to the bedside, bent down, and kissed Hazel's forehead gently. "You really did it, girl. I'm so proud of you."
"It's a girl," Hazel said with a smile. "Anya, all those little dresses you bought can finally be used."
"Oh my God!" Anya said excitedly. "I'm supplying her entire wardrobe! Because let's face it, Hazel, your taste is terrible. I can't let my little sister dress as badly as you do."
"Hey!" Hazel laughed and swatted at her.
I stood off to the side, watching them joke around.
Seeing Hazel and Anya—after all the misunderstandings and pain—finally back to being this close made me genuinely happy. But also a little jealous.
Hazel only showed this relaxed, natural side of herself with Anya.
She'd loosened up a lot around me, but with Anya, she was just herself.
The real, unguarded Hazel.
I understood that in Hazel's world, Anya held just as important a place as I did. Their friendship was as precious as our love.
Seeing them get along so well finally put me at ease.
I walked over and lifted Sofia from her bassinet.
"Want to hold your little sister?" I asked Anya.
"Yes!" Anya reached out immediately, then hesitated. "But... what if I hurt her?"
"You won't," Hazel said gently. "Here, support her head like this."
I carefully placed Sofia in Anya's arms.
Anya looked down at the baby and bit her lip in frustration.
"Damn it, I forgot to bring her clothes."
Just then, the door opened. Jack walked in carrying a huge bag.
"You mean this bag of clothes?" Jack asked.
"Oh my God, Jack!" Anya said excitedly. "You're the best! I almost forgot!"
Jack set the bag on the sofa, then gave Hazel his gift too.
Ever since Jack had gotten to know Hazel better during the kidnapping, his attitude toward her had softened considerably. Now they were actually becoming friends.
The laughter and conversation went on for hours. Watching Hazel crack up with genuine joy, I felt the tension I'd been carrying for days finally ease.
I knew this wasn't the end.
Hazel was so wonderful. She'd only been alone before because of her notorious brother and her own timid nature.
But everything had changed now. She was too good not to make more friends. The gallery owner had already invited her to meet several times.
Her world was only going to get brighter from here.
Even though Hazel's world wouldn't be just about me anymore—which made me a little jealous—I was genuinely happy about it.
She was beautiful and deserved to have everything.
Anya and Jack stayed all evening before reluctantly leaving. On her way out, Anya complained that she wished she could take Sofia home for a few days.
"Not a chance," I said flatly.
After they left, the hospital room fell quiet again.
I sat by Hazel's bed, watching her nurse Sofia. The baby latched on hungrily, her tiny hand gripping Hazel's finger tight.
The scene was so warm, so peaceful, I almost forgot about my world of violence and blood.
"Viktor," Hazel said suddenly. "Is there something you want to tell me?"
I froze.
"What do you mean?"
"You've been distracted all day." Hazel looked at me. "I can feel it. Is something wrong?"
I sighed.
I'd been debating whether to tell her. But Hazel was getting to know me too well now. She'd become incredibly perceptive, picking up on even my smallest mood shifts.
I pulled an envelope from my jacket pocket and handed it to her.
Hazel carefully laid Sofia—now full and sleeping—in the bassinet, then turned back to me.
"What's this?" Hazel took the envelope, confused.
"From your mother and brother," I said. "It arrived a week ago. But I didn't give it to you because..."
"Because you didn't want them to upset me?" Hazel finished for me.
I nodded.
Hazel looked at the envelope in her hands and went quiet for a moment.
"It's okay," she said softly. "I'll read it."
Hazel opened the envelope slowly.
Then I watched her face go pale.
I'd already read the letter.
It started with fake apologies—saying she'd been too impulsive, that she regretted kicking Hazel out, that she'd been missing her daughter.
Then it shifted.
She started complaining about how hard life was, how the trailer park rent had gone up, how she didn't even have money for booze. Then she flat-out asked for money, saying now that Hazel had married rich, she should help her poor mother.
The second half was from her brother Jimmy.