The Billionaire's Baby

39| Delilah

"A GIRL?!" I yell from the hallway. My hands go to my hair, gripping and scrunching at my dark locks as my eyes remain wide. "B-but the- the doctor said that it's...a boy..."

Vante exhales as he takes a step towards me. "He called me at the party to say that it's a girl,"

I rush into the room, throwing my clutch onto te sofa and taking a seat on the edge of the bed. I run my hands through my hair and lay back, staring that the ceiling. So many thoughts run through my mind, yet the one that gets to me is what happens now?

The contract was for me to birth a son for Vante and then we would go our separate ways. Perhaps we were too hasty in making it. There wasn't anything that said we should try again. There was nothing about the consequences of having a daughter. Would Vante even accept a daughter?

Everything makes me groan out in irritation. And I'm filled with so much emotion that my eyes begin pooling up.

The bed sinks next to me and I can hear Vante's calm breaths. "Amore, everything will be fine,"

"Will it?" I challenge with worry in my tone. I turn to him, not even bothering to hold back the tears that fall. "You wanted a son...I couldn't even give you that-"

I choke on my words and squeeze my eyes shut. Once again I've proven myself useless. The only thing I'm good at is helping other mothers birth their babies.

Being a mother myself is something that's scaring me. "I don't know if I'm good enough to be a mother,"

The feeling of Vante's fingers on my cheek makes me open my eyes and meet his gaze. He cups my cheek in his hand and adjusts himself to lie over me and envelope me with his body.

"I would not have chosen you if I thought you'd be a bad mother, Delilah," his hand slides around my neck, ensuring that I'm looking him directly in the eyes. His oceans engulf me in the atmosphere he's created. And it's hot. "I know you'll be a great mother, and that means making the right decisions for our daughter."

He places his lips on mine, keeping the kiss light yet putting meaning into it. He's always so sincere, his actions so meaningful towards me.

All I can think is to say thank you to him, to thank him for his support. Everything is so wonderful with him.

Maybe I should stay with him after all this. We can try for a son, we can live a life. A life dedicated to out children. Dedicated to us...

***
32-weeks into the pregnancy...

My eyes feel heavy as the vibrations of the car feel like I'm being rocked to sleep. The sun hasn't even risen yet and the clock on my phone read 05:32.

I wanted to fly a bit later but Vante insisted we go so early in morning, before the world wakes up. I'm too tired to even argue with him right now, I just need more sleep.

I shut my eyes, drifting away into my lovely sleep, only for Peter to pull me back out.

"We've arrived at the airport, Mr Riccardo," he announces, loud enough for us both to hear, yet still soft. Even Peter seems a little more tired than usual.

The lights of the airport parking meet my eyes as we enter the building. Peter drops Vante and I off at the main doors as bodyguards take our luggage out of the trunk. Peter then drives off to park the car and Vante takes my hand to guide us into the airport.