His Mafia Prince
Chapter 153: I Will Always Put You First

Chapter 153: I Will Always Put You First

(MILES)

"Right." I grab the pregnancy bag from the dresser. We had it packed earlier just in case of emergency. I am so excited and frightened at the same time that I don’t know where to place my feelings. "Let’s go."

Arlo smiles weakly. "You’re still in your boxers, and I need to get dressed."

I glance down at my boxers. "Oh, yeah. Of course." I drop the bag and hurry to get my shirt and jeans.

Arlo slips into some sweatpants and a baggy hoodie. He grabs his stomach and groans. His breathing is uneven.

He grits his teeth hard. He is in obvious pain. "We need to hurry. These contractions are getting pretty strong."

I head over to him. I’m dying with anxiety. "I’ll help you downstairs." We make our way down the steps, shopping every few seconds so that he can tolerate the pain of the contractions. We move slowly, but eventually we get to my car. "I called to inform Sasha. He said that he will meet us at the hospital."

"I hope that Tyler will come." Arlo groans.

"He probably will." I say, helping him into his seat then clip the belt around his hips, below his huge belly.

Arlo is in so much pain. His contractions come every three minutes. It hurts to see him in the stare, so I drive faster than I probably should. I am aware that his water already broke, and time is of essence. "Remember to breathe, Dr Nicholas said it will help with the pain."

He breathes harshly. "They lied."

"It will be okay, Arlo." I grip the steering wheel. "We will be there soon."

He wiggles in his seat, grabbing his stomach and moaning loudly. "I don’t like this one bit. It hurts more than I thought it would."

I don’t know what to tell him. I have read much and researched enough pregnancy articles, but now that push has come to shove, I’m not sure that there’s anything that I can do to help. It’s just about a five minutes’ drive to the hospital, but it feels like centuries have passed. I’m sure it feels like an eternity for Arlo. I park the SUV at the front of the emergency entrance. I don’t care about the parking spot now. All I want to do is ease Arlo’s pain.

Once inside, I see a bored looking nurse who instructs me to take Arlo to the labour and delivery reception. She tells me that it is there where all maternity cases are handled.

Her nonchalant attitude pisses me off immediately. "My name is Miles Caspar and I need you to get him a wheelchair now. He cannot walk all that way." I say harshly.

Her eyes go wide at the mention of my name. "Oh...I...I didn’t recognize you, Mr. Caspar. I will go get the wheelchair right away."

"Thank you." I say curtly.

Arlo wails loudly and holds his belly. "God...shit...I’m gonna die, Miles. I don’t think that I can handle this. It hurts too much...I just can’t, Miles. I can’t."

"Yes you can, and you will. you’re gonna do just fine." I glance around angrily looking for the nurse. I see her running towards us pushing the wheelchair. I don’t wait for her to get to us, I grab the wheelchair and help Arlo onto it. I take off with him, going faster than I probably should. But he is in so much pain, and the labour and reception feels like it is miles away.

I get to the labour and delivery department and find that they are far more in their game. As soon as they see me and Arlo, each one of them jumps into action. Within a short while, Aral has already been taken to the labour room and Dr Nicholas is contacted. The nurses have me put a gown and little booties on my feet. They could even get me a clown suit and I’d gladly wear it if it meant being with Arlo in the room.

Arlo writhes in the bed. He is suffering and it is a sight that I loathe. There are stirrups at one end of the bed, but he isn’t ready for that yet. The nurses check him every now and then to see if he is ready. Two minutes later, Dr Nicholas appears, fully dressed. He looks calmer than I expected.

He is wearing a mask over his mouth but the way his eyes crinkle tell me that he is smiling at me. "You boys ready for this?" he asks.

"No." Arlo wails. "This is too painful. I want an epidural."

"I’m sorry, Arlo. You are too far along for the epidural." Dr Nicholas’ mask puffs as he speaks. "The baby is already coming and it would take long time for the anesthesiologist to get here."

"I told you I want an epidural." He wails. "This is bullshit. I can’t do this, please...I can’t do it. I’m serious."

He is in a full-on panic mode. I need to do something. I place my hand on his forehead. All I can think of tight now is soothing my omega, even though I know that it is near impossible. He is swearing and hot. At my touch, he quiets down a little. His eyes are filled with pain as he glances at me. I want to help him. I wish that I could take the pain instead. But I can’t. All that I can do is to exert the alpha instincts coming at me now.

"Look at me, Arlo." I say truffle while stroking his hair. "You are strong. I know that you are. You still do this and before you know it, our baby will be here, okay? You are so strong, love. You can do this, Arlo. I believe in you. I know you will."

"I’m...I’m so scared." He whimpers.

"I know, baby. I know you are. You are going to be okay, I promise. It’s time for our child to come." My eyes sting. "It is up to you now, Arlo. I trust that you can do this. I know it is scary, but I also know that you will. I will be with you every step of the way."

His jagged breath slows down. Even the immense fear in his eyes disappears slightly. I know though that he is still in a lot of pain and is scared. But my voice is doing something to get through to him. I can see the change.

I take his hand. "Listen to the doctor. He will help you through this. It’s almost over. I promise."

He nods and says quietly. "Yes... it’s almost over."

"Arlo, I need you to put your feet on the stirrups now." He urges. "Then you’re going to push when I tell you to, okay?"

Arlo’s gaze flicks to him. He hesitates at first then puts his feet on the stirrups. Another contraction comes through and he wails. He keeps his feet on the stirrups but arches his back, squeezing my hands so tightly that it actually hurts. I can handle a few bruised fingers compared to what he is going through.

The way Dr Nicholas is calm has me in awe. For all my pretending to be in control of my emotions, I’m actually crashing inside. He gives Arlo instructions calmly. He tells him when to push and he obeys. Veins stick out of his throat as he strains to push the baby out.

He tells him to stop and he obeys, breathing hard. His face is flushed red and slick with sweat. My heart breaks watching him in such pain. I wish there was a way I could take away the pain from him and be the one to suffer instead. If I could, I would.

After fifteen minutes of grunting and pushing, I hear the cry of a baby. The doctor holds up the squirming little baby in his hands. He suctions the baby’s mouth. The baby cries louder and Arlo covers his face. He, too, is crying.

I lean down and press a soft kiss on his forehead. "You did it." I say, my voice thick with tears. "You did it, love. I’m so proud of you. I love you so much."

He lifts his head up and stares between his legs at Dr Nicholas. When his eyes land on the baby, he smiles tiredly. "Is it a girl or a boy?"

"I’m not sure." I was so consumed by Arlo that I didn’t think to ask.

"Well, you have a son." He says.

Arlo groans. "Oh, thank God. Maybe I won’t have to go through such a harrowing experience again."

I laugh and kiss him again. "See, you did so well, baby. I knew you would."

"No, I didn’t. I lost my shit." He wipes his face. "When can we hold the baby?" he asks.

"As soon as your alpha cuts the umbilical cord." The nurse says, smiling at me.

I move down towards the end of the bed where the baby is. I lay my eyes on our son and my heart softens immediately. His hair is just like Arlo’s. He seems to have taken Alto’s looks and something about it excites me. Much as he is still covered in whatever it is babies are covered with when they are born, he still looks adorable.

The nurse gives me a pair of surgical scissors and beckons me to cut. There are two clamps on the umbilical cord. She instructs me to cut between them. Cutting through the umbilical cord is not as easy as I thought. Eventually, I cut it and they whisk the baby away.

"He is cute." I tell Arlo. "He looks so much like you."

"Really?" his face lights up.

The nurse comes over to us with the baby swaddled in a blanket. Arlo takes the baby and the first expression on his face when he sees him is awe. The baby coos and we both stare down at him. He is the most perfect thing that I have ever laid my eyes on. I love him instantly. It is a strange sensation considering that I have never really loved somebody this much in my life.

"His hair is mine, but his eyes are yours, Miles. They are big and brown like yours."

"I wish he had your eyes though."

"I don’t." Arlo remarks, "I love that he is a mixture of us both."

The baby begins to fuss and Alto looks nervous. "What does he want?" he asks, looking at the nurse.

"He probably wants to feed." The nurse smiles. "See, you’re leaking. Looks like your milk just came." The nurse says as she comes closer to us.

He glances down and finds that there is indeed liquid dripping from his nipples. "What the hell?" he shrieks.

"That’s what happens when you hear the baby cry. It’s natural." The nurse laughs. "Now, it might hurt at first when he latches on, but with time, you will get used to it." She says while helping Arlo to position the baby near one of his nipples.

"Ow... ouch." Arlo whimpers as the baby begins to suckle his nipple. "Ouch, ouch... slow down, you little pig."

I laugh, glad that I’m not the one to feed our baby. "You omegas really get the bad end of the deal."

"It isn’t fair though. I still don’t understand why everything to do with having a baby has to hurt so much. Whose idea was it that Omegas do the heavy lifting?"

The nurse smiles as she meets his gaze. "All omegas complain about this stuff. Don’t worry though. It is pretty unfit, I understand why they complain that much.

"I guess I’m glad that this is over with," Arlo grimaces but when he glances down at the baby, his expression "He is so cute."

"So, what are you going to name him?" the doctor asks.

I clear my throat. "I’ve been thinking Aral, we should call him Reign. It would be a nice and respectful thing to do... to wish for a longer reign of the Sovereign Ring syndicate and your father’s legacy as well.

"Really?" Arlo looks moved.

"Yes." I nod. "I think Reign Sullivan-Caspar has a nice touch to it."

Arlo’s eyes brim with tears. "You put my name first?"

"I will always put you first, Arlo." My eyes sting as I speak. "I promise."

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