The Sweetest Temptation
Chapter 306: Labour

Chapter 306: Labour

****4 MONTHS LATER****

Stella’s abrupt awakening was triggered by a series of loud bangs reverberating at the entrance of the bedroom, accompanied by muffled shouts on the other side of the door. Panic surged through her veins as she turned her gaze to Matteo, still nestled within the crumpled sheets.

"Matteo, wake up!" Her voice trembled with urgency, desperation seeping through her words. "How can you sleep when—"

"She’s in labor!" Damien’s voice, strained with anxiety, pierced through the door. Stella’s eyes widened, sudden realization crashing over her. The gravity of the situation settled heavily upon her as the anguished wails of Beatrix echoed down the hallway.

"Oh my God... Matteo! Wake up!" Stella’s urgency escalated as she landed a sharp blow on his back, propelling herself to her feet. Matteo groaned and shifted on the bed.

"Why’d you have to hit me?" His voice was groggy, laden with irritation.

"Stop complaining! Beatrix is in labor!"

The urgency in her tone roused him fully. Matteo shot up, hastily grabbing a random shirt from his closet. Snatching his keys, he assisted Stella out of the room. As they hurried downstairs, he paused on the terrace overlooking the grand hall. There, he saw Damien, Rhys, and Bolivar, their faces etched with worry, guiding Beatrix towards the exit.

"Let’s go, don’t just stand there!" Stella chided impatiently. Buttoning up his shirt, Matteo descended the stairs in swift strides, joining the cluster of anxious figures below.

"Take her to my car," Matteo’s directive was assertive, his tone unyielding. He strode towards the entrance with purpose.

"I’ll drive her myself," Rhys protested, concern lacing his words.

"You’re in no condition to drive," Matteo stated knowingly, his gaze fixed on Rhys.

"What do you mean by that?" Rhys’ voice bristled with a mixture of worry and defensiveness, his protective instincts flaring.

"Now’s not the time for disputes," Bolivar interjected, stepping into the midst of the escalating tension. "Rhys, Matteo has a point. You and Damien are both worried sick about Beatrix. Making impulsive decisions in this heightened state isn’t safe. Let him and Stella handle—"

The words were cut off by the sharp, agonized cries emanating from the car where Beatrix was now seated.

"Damn it! Stella!" Matteo’s shout was laced with urgency as he sprinted towards his car.

"On it!" Stella’s response was swift and resolute. She slid into the backseat of the Cadillac, cradling Beatrix’s head on her lap. "Drive carefully, Mat."

"I’ll do my best."

"Just fucking drive!" Beatrix’s impatient scream punctuated the exchange, her distress spurring Matteo into immediate action.

***

The waiting room was fraught with tension. The muffled cries from the labor room amplified the anxiety in the air. Rhys, Damien, Matteo, Stella, and Bolivar paced restlessly, each absorbed in their own thoughts. Suddenly, Remo burst onto the scene, panting as if he had sprinted there.

"What?" Remo asked, his tone tinged with curiosity.

"Were you that concerned?" Matteo inquired in a tone laced with surprise.

"Why do you ask?"

Matteo’s eyebrow arched, bemused. "You seem out of breath, like you ran all the way here."

"Well, I didn’t want to miss all the excitement," Remo retorted with his characteristic sarcasm.

"If you find this fun, your sense of enjoyment is pretty twisted," Damien chimed in. His words cut short by a nurse’s call from the labor ward.

"Damien?"

"Yes, that’s me," Damien responded, stepping forward.

"She wants you in there," the nurse instructed briskly, beckoning him to follow.

"Rhys!" Beatrix’s voice rang out from the room, freezing both Damien and the nurse in their tracks.

"You see what I mean?" Remo interjected with a wry smile, nudging Matteo, who observed the unfolding scene with a mixture of amusement and exasperation.

Shortly afterward, Damien emerged from the room, his hand pressed to his forehead, visibly overwhelmed. Stella hurried to his side, concern etching across her features.

"How is she? What’s happening?" Her impatience was palpable.

"It’s tougher than I thought," Damien confessed, his body seeming to lose all strength as he slumped to the floor, knees pulled to his chest.

"What do you mean?" Matteo inquired.

"The poor guy couldn’t handle seeing her in pain. Well, you brought this on yourself," Remo chimed in, his laughter laced with a teasing edge.

"She’s going to be okay," Bolivar chimed in, his face alight with a hopeful grin. The group’s attention shifted to him.

"Why? Because you’ve been through this before?" Matteo teased.

"Precisely." Bolivar’s face transformed into one of understanding. Just then, the room was filled with the soft, joyous cries of a newborn, stunning the group into a hushed silence. Stella’s breath hitched, tears escaping her eyes.

"She did it," she whispered weakly, her legs nearly buckling beneath her. Matteo rushed to her side, enfolding her in his arms.

"Are you okay? Let’s go get you something to—" Matteo began, but Stella interrupted.

"No, I want to see them," she insisted, pushing against his embrace. As if on cue, a nurse entered the room, her expression devoid of emotion. Seeing her impassive demeanor, Bolivar’s countenance shifted from elation to concern.

"Congratulations... it’s a girl," the nurse announced.

"And what about my princess?" Bolivar asked with a tremor in his voice, taking tentative steps toward the nurse.

"She’s as healthy as can be. The delivery was successful, and both mother and child are safe."

Bolivar’s relief was palpable as he let the tears that had formed in his eyes slip out at their own volition.

"What’s wrong, father?" Stella asked, stepping forward and placing a hand on his shoulder.

"For a moment, I was worried..." Bolivar’s voice quavered with emotion.

"We can actually see her now," the nurse suggested with a smile.

"Really?" Bolivar’s eyes brightened.

"Of course. But please, maintain some order for the mother’s sake."

"Yes, yes," Bolivar responded, sniffling. "Take us to her."

Entering the room, the group was met with an endearing sight of the baby girl nestled carefully on Beatrix’s chest. Damien, who had left briefly to gather himself, couldn’t contain the swell of emotion at the sight of Beatrix’s vulnerability. Unbidden tears cascaded down his cheeks as he approached her, sinking to his knees.

"I’m so sorry," his voice wavered with remorse.