Lucio's POV:

The silence of the house was deafening, punctuated only by the soft shuffle of the maids moving about. Where the hell was everyone? For the first time in weeks, I felt the gnawing unease of solitude creeping in. Usually, Kate's scent lingered in the room, her soft voice humming a tune or whispering reassurances to herself, to me, or maybe even to our unborn child.

But today? Nothing.

I strained to hear something—anything—but all I could make out were muffled voices from somewhere downstairs. I needed to open my eyes, to find her, to tell her I wasn't going to leave her. Damn it, Carl. You've taken enough from me. You've taken my sister, nearly my life, and now you've stolen my ability to be there for Kate.

Every second in this coma was torture.

The sound of soft footsteps approached, and for a fleeting moment, relief washed over me. Kate? But no, it was a maid—her steps light and hesitant, like she didn't want to disturb the dead.

She adjusted the blanket over me, her movements mechanical, and I felt frustration boiling inside. This wasn't how it was supposed to be. I was supposed to be awake, protecting Kate, planning for our future, not lying here as some useless shell of a man.

The hours dragged. I couldn't tell if it was the same day or if time had looped into some twisted cycle. Then, finally, voices—muffled and distant—began to grow louder.

"Why the hell are you yelling, Michen?" Emily's sharp tone snapped through the air. "He doesn't need you storming through the house like a bull."

"He's been like this for three weeks, Em! Three fucking weeks! Do you even know how hard this is? How much we're losing—how much she's losing?" Michen's voice cracked, the pain evident.

"I know! Don't you think I know?" Emily's voice softened, almost breaking. "I see her every day, Michen. She's losing herself. She barely eats, barely sleeps. She thinks we don't notice, but we do."

My chest felt heavier. Kate. God, what was I doing to her?

"Where is she now?" Michen asked, his tone calmer.

"She's in the nursery," Emerald answered, her voice barely a whisper. "She spends all her time there now, rearranging everything, sitting in that damn rocking chair, talking to herself—or to him."

Him. Our baby. My son.

If I hadn't already been furious, I would've broken down right there. I needed to wake up. I needed to see Kate, to hold her, to tell her she wasn't alone. I would tear this coma apart with my bare hands if it meant I could reach her.

Later that night, I felt her presence. Her hand brushed against mine, soft and warm. "Lucio," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I don't know how much longer I can do this. I'm so tired." Her words were punctuated by soft sobs. "I need you. I can't do this alone. Please... please come back to me."

I wanted to scream, to tell her I was trying, that I wouldn't leave her. But my body betrayed me, and all I could manage was the slightest twitch of my fingers.

She didn't notice, or maybe she thought it was nothing.

Her hand rested on my chest, just above my heart. "The baby kicked today," she murmured. "He's strong, Lucio. Just like you. But he needs you. We need you."

Her lips pressed against my forehead, and her tears warmed my skin. "I'll keep fighting," she whispered. "But you have to fight too."

I would, Kate. I'd fight for you, for our baby, for the future that bastard Carl tried to take from us. I wasn't going to let him win. I wasn't going to let you break.

I'd come back. I had to.

Kate's POV:

The living room felt strangely quiet, with the TV on low and my thoughts consumed by Lucio. The past few weeks had been a rollercoaster of emotions—hopeful moments shattered by the weight of his absence. I tried to focus on the screen, but a sharp pain shot through my lower abdomen.

At first, I brushed it off, thinking it was just another Braxton Hicks contraction. But then, a warm, wet sensation followed, and I glanced down to see water pooling around me.

"Shit," I muttered, panic setting in. My breathing quickened as another wave of pain crashed through me, stronger this time. "Shit! My water broke!"

I screamed, clutching my stomach, and within seconds, the guys burst into the room.

Michen's face was pale as he knelt beside me. "What's wrong?"

"My water broke, genius!" I snapped, clutching my belly. "Get me to the fucking hospital before this baby decides to make an entrance right here!"

Michen didn't waste a second, scooping me up into his arms. I gritted my teeth as another contraction tore through me, and Joseph's panicked face loomed into view.

"Why are you looking at me like that, Joseph?" I growled, sweat dripping down my temple.

"You just look... terrifying right now," he muttered, visibly shaken.

"Shut the fuck up before I rip your balls off!" I barked, and he immediately scooted away, raising his hands in surrender.

The car ride to the hospital was a blur of pain and anger. Every bump in the road felt like torture.

"How much longer?" I yelled, gripping Michen's arm from the backseat.

"Just breathe, Kate. We're almost there," he said, trying to keep his voice calm.

"Breathe? You want me to fucking breathe? Get me to the damn hospital before I murder all of you!" My voice was a mix of rage and desperation. Another contraction hit, and I screamed.

Finally, we screeched to a halt outside the hospital. Nurses rushed to my side, placing me on a stretcher and wheeling me in as the pain intensified.

"You need to push!" a nurse said, her voice firm yet soothing.

"I'm pushing!" I screamed, my vision blurring from the exertion. Another contraction hit, and I gripped the side of the bed, pushing with every ounce of strength I had.

"Come on, just one more big push!" The urgency in her voice sent a jolt of determination through me.

I bore down with everything I had, tears streaming down my face. Then, a piercing cry filled the room. Relief and exhaustion washed over me as the baby was placed on my chest for a fleeting moment before darkness consumed me.

When I woke up, the room was quiet, and for a moment, I feared the worst. But then I heard voices, soft and comforting, and I blinked against the harsh fluorescent light.

"She's awake," Hasley said, her face lighting up as she rushed to my side.

"Where's my baby?" My voice cracked, panic evident.

"He's right here," Hasley said, smiling as she gestured to the crib. "He's perfect, Kate."

I turned my head, and there he was—my baby boy, sleeping peacefully. He looked so much like Lucio it was almost unbearable. Tears welled in my eyes as I reached out, my heart swelling with love and longing.

Hasley picked him up gently and brought him to me. I cradled him in my arms, marveling at his tiny features. His green-gray eyes fluttered open briefly, and I felt a wave of emotion I couldn't contain.

"He has Lucio's everything," I whispered, tracing the baby's tiny nose with my finger. "Except my lips. At least I gave him something."

Emerald and Hasley laughed softly, but the moment was bittersweet. Lucio should be here, holding his son, sharing this moment with me.

Back home, I didn't even make it to my bedroom. Instead, I went straight to Lucio's room, carrying the baby with me. He was still there, still fighting, but it broke my heart to see him like this.

I placed the baby on the bed beside him, gently taking Lucio's hand and placing it on our son. Tears streamed down my face as I whispered, "Lucio, meet your son. He's beautiful, just like you. But he needs you. We need you."

The baby stirred, letting out a tiny yawn before settling back into sleep. I stayed there for a while, watching them both, praying for Lucio to wake up and meet the little miracle we created together.

Eventually, exhaustion overtook me. I left the baby in the crib next to Lucio, trusting the monitors and the guards stationed outside. As soon as my head hit the pillow in my own room, sleep claimed me, though my dreams were filled with thoughts of Lucio and our new family.