Chapter 2 - The Storm Outside
"Bradycardia!" I yelled, instantly slipping into professional protocol. "I need a bag and mask! Call Dr. Aris!"
In a flash, the quiet atmosphere transformed into high-octane chaos. Nurses rushed over with crash carts, and alarms echoed down the corridor. Yet, amid the flurry of scrubs and medical gear, Sebastian didn't panic. He followed my exact instructions from earlier, carefully laying the fragile infant back into the incubator without disrupting the delicate lines attached to his tiny body.
"Talk to me, Sarah," Sebastian demanded, his hands hovering over the glass, trembling slightly. "What’s happening to him?"
"His lungs are underdeveloped; he stopped breathing," I said, positioning the tiny oxygen mask over the baby's face and manually pumping air into his chest. Squeeze, two, three. Release. Squeeze, two, three. Release. "Come on, little guy. Fight."
Dr. Aris swept into the pod, taking over the resuscitation efforts. For three agonizing minutes, the world shrunk down to the beep of the heart monitor and the rhythmic compressions. Sebastian stood right behind us, a towering wall of quiet intensity, radiating a desperate energy that seemed to push life back into the room.
Finally, a faint, raspy cry broke through the tension. The monitor stabilized. Green numbers flickered back into a safe range.
I let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding, leaning against the counter. Sebastian slumped against the incubator wall, pressing his forehead against the acrylic glass. Tears—real, unedited tears—glistered in his dark eyes.
"He's stable," Dr. Aris announced, wiping sweat from his forehead before turning his attention to Sebastian. The doctor froze, recognizing the man immediately. "Mr. Moretti... I didn't expect to see you here."
"He’s staying," I interjected firmly, shielding Sebastian before the doctor could object. "He’s an authorized volunteer. And right now, he’s the only stability this child has."
Dr. Aris looked between me, Sebastian, and the tiny baby inside the box. He nodded slowly. "Very well. But the next twenty-four hours are critical. He needs constant sensory contact. Skin-to-skin contact regulates his heart rate better than any drug we have."
"Then I’m not leaving," Sebastian said instantly.
By nightfall, the hospital had settled into a eerie stillness, but outside, a storm was brewing. Marco returned, setting up an improvised command center in the hospital lobby down the hall, keeping watch alongside four heavily armed men disguised as private hospital security.
Around 2:00 AM, my phone buzzed with an internal alert. A dark sedan had been spotted circling the hospital premises multiple times. Victor Rossi, Sebastian’s ruthless rival, was probing for weaknesses. Rossi knew Sebastian was vulnerable, tied down by a mysterious obligation inside the hospital, and he wanted to capitalize on it.
Sebastian sat in the dim light of Pod 3, holding Baby Boy Miller against his bare chest once more. The sound of the mob boss’s deep, rhythmic heart was acting as a natural pacemaker for the boy.
"He needs a real name," Sebastian whispered into the darkness as I brought him a clean blanket. "A child can't just be a number on a medical chart."
"The state hasn't assigned a legal guardian yet," I explained, leaning against the rocking chair. "Since his mother signed away her rights and fled, he’s technically a ward of the child protective services."
"Then I will name him," Sebastian said softly. "Leo. After my grandfather. It means lion. Because this little guy is a fighter."
"Leo Moretti?" I asked before I could stop myself.
Sebastian looked up, his expression unreadable. "Leo Miller for now. But if the world gives me a chance to make amends for my past... maybe one day he'll carry my name."
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Before the sentiment could fully settle, the lights in the NICU suddenly flickered and died. The emergency backup generators clicked on three seconds later, casting the room in a harsh, reddish glow.
At that exact moment, the heavy fire doors at the end of the hallway burst open.
