The Sweetest Temptation
Chapter 307: Leticia

Chapter 307: Leticia

Beatrix’s response was a mixture of laughter and tears of joy. She extended her fingers to caress his hair. "It’s okay," she assured him gently.

"Hey, look at our baby girl." With tenderness, she guided her hand beneath his chin, turning his gaze towards the delicate features of their child.

Damien complied, his eyes meeting the tiny wonder before him, tears continuing to stream.

"I never knew you’d be such a crybaby," Rhys teased from her side.

"Me neither," Damien admitted, his voice breaking as he wiped his eyes with his arm. "Thank you so much, man."

"Remember, it’s not just me," Rhys reassured, offering a comforting pat on his shoulder. Damien nodded, acknowledging his words. With newfound resolve, he rose to his feet, carefully gathering the baby from Beatrix’s embrace and carrying her towards the waiting group.

In a burst of enthusiasm, Bolivar couldn’t contain his excitement. Surging past Remo and Matteo, he playfully announced, "Pardon me, grandfather coming through." His spirited remark prompted laughter from the others, filling the room with a harmonious blend of joy.

"Ah, amica mea, welcome to the family," Bolivar’s voice held a tender warmth as Damien cradled the baby in his arms. "Have you thought of a name for our little princess?"

"But father, I thought I was your princess," Beatrix chimed in with a mock pout.

Bolivar, however, didn’t divert his attention from the infant. "She has taken your place," he quipped, playful in his demeanor. Beatrix’s playful retort found no sway with him, but she wasn’t bothered. She was utterly enchanted by the sight of her father embracing her child – a moment she’d never envisioned experiencing.

Tears welled in her eyes, slipping down her cheeks like gentle rain. Stella, attentive to her friend’s emotions, rushed to Beatrix’s side. Concern laced her voice. "Beatrix, are you hurt?"

A soft chuckle escaped Beatrix’s lips. "Not at all, Stella, I’m just so happy."

Stella’s eyes softened with empathy. "You deserve all the happiness. You did so well. I’m really sorry I couldn’t be here with you. The nurses insisted I stay outside unless you asked for me."

"Stella, I’m fine," Beatrix reassured, her grip firm on Stella’s hand. "It’s just... I never thought I’d be so overjoyed to see my father holding my baby. It’s a beautiful feeling, and I wish Mom could be here to witness this."

Stella’s gaze turned contemplative. "Oh, but she is."

Beatrix’s eyebrows furrowed, a mixture of curiosity and hope in her expression. "What makes you so sure?"

"Well, she’s a spirit now, isn’t she?" Stella’s voice held a quiet certainty. "Surely she wouldn’t want to miss out on such a special occasion. And beyond that, she must have guided your father here. She knew you’d need his presence."

Beatrix’s smile, now a mix of emotions, bloomed anew at Stella’s words.

"I’ve decided upon a name," Bolivar’s hearty declaration drew the attention of everyone in the room. Damien and Rhys exchanged less than pleased glances, asserting their paternal rights.

"I believe I hold the right to name her as the father," Damien insisted.

"And what about her uncle?" Remo’s voice cut in, his tall form rising from the seat he’d occupied. Stella let out an exasperated sigh, sensing an argument brewing.

"Here we go again," Beatrix murmured with a soft chuckle. Yet, her expression shifted, a sudden pang crossing her face as her hand instinctively went to her stomach.

"Surely, you’re not leaving out..." Matteo’s words began, but Stella swiftly intervened.

"Hey, hey, hey, not here and not now," Stella asserted, rising and gently taking the baby from Bolivar’s arms.

Bolivar’s protest halted as his eyes met Beatrix’s smile. A rush of warmth engulfed him, and he knelt beside her. Tenderly, he swept her wet tresses aside and pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead.

"I’m so proud of you, mia principesa," he whispered, his voice heavy with emotion.

"Thank you, father," Beatrix replied in a soft, heartfelt tone.

A moment of vulnerability surfaced as Bolivar continued, "I was joking before... no one could ever replace you in my life."

Beatrix’s reply carried a light touch, "I didn’t take it to heart, father."

He leaned in slightly, a hint of playfulness in his expression. "So, you won’t mind if I name her then?"

Laughter filled the room at his words.

"Oh, father, as much as I would love for you to name her, I’ve already chosen a name."

The room hushed as Beatrix’s statement hung in the air.

"Leticia."

Bolivar’s face underwent a beautiful transformation, his earlier goofy demeanor replaced by a man on the brink of tears, overcome with joy. Matteo approached, his arm circling Bolivar’s shoulder.

"Are you sure about this, amica mea?" Bolivar’s voice trembled with emotion.

"Yes, papa."

"That’s the name of your mother."

The room fell into a moment of awed silence as Bolivar’s words hung in the air. The revelation that the chosen name, "Leticia," was also the name of Beatrix’s mother added an even deeper layer of significance to the moment. Beatrix’s eyes glistened with tears as she nodded, a gentle smile on her lips, affirming the connection she felt with her mother through this choice.

Bolivar’s expression was a mix of astonishment, emotion, and deep understanding. He reached out to touch Beatrix’s hand, his fingers intertwining with hers, as if sharing in the memory and sentiment that this name carried. A collective sense of reverence settled over the room, with the weight of generations and love filling the space.

Matteo’s arm remained around Bolivar’s shoulder, his presence a silent show of support.

The room seemed to hold its breath for a moment, the significance of the chosen name resonating deeply with everyone present.

It was a beautiful tribute that bridged the past, the present, and the future, binding the family’s legacy together in an unexpected and touching way.

As the significance of the name Leticia sunk in, a tear slid down Bolivar’s cheek, and he let out a shuddering breath. With a voice heavy with emotion, he whispered, "Leticia... my love, you’ve honored your mother in the most beautiful way."

Beatrix’s voice trembled as she replied, "I wanted her memory to live on, papa. I wanted our daughter to carry a piece of her with her always."

Bolivar, with tearful eyes, extended a trembling hand to touch his granddaughter’s tiny fingers. "Welcome, Leticia," he murmured, his voice choked with emotion.

It was a moment of profound connection, spanning generations and binding the family together in an unbreakable bond.

THE END?

Also don’t forget to add Remo’s story to your library. The contract marriage: The Devil’s bride