His Secret Baby Part 2 – The First Cry

His Secret Baby

Part 2 – The First Cry

The doctor barely finished speaking before another contraction hit me.

I cried out, gripping the bedrails.

“Claire, look at me.”

Vincent was beside me instantly, holding my hand.

“You’re going to be okay. I’m right here.”

I turned toward him, tears running down my cheeks.

“You don’t have to pretend to be my husband anymore.”

His jaw tightened.

“I’m not pretending.”

“Vincent…”

“Please, Claire. Just let me stay until our baby is born.”

I wanted to argue, but the pain left me with no strength.

The doctor examined me and nodded.

“All right, Claire. It’s time. I need you to push.”

For the next several minutes, the room filled with urgent instructions.

Vincent never released my hand.

The man who once couldn’t spare an evening for our anniversary was now standing beside me, looking as though his entire world depended on every breath I took.

“One more push, Claire!”

I gathered what little strength I had left.

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And then—

A tiny cry filled the room.

“It’s a girl!” the doctor announced.

I burst into tears.

A nurse gently placed the little baby against my chest. She had a tiny nose, soft pink cheeks, and a full head of dark hair.

“Hello, sweetheart,” I whispered.

Vincent stood frozen beside the bed.

His eyes were red.

“She’s…” He swallowed. “She’s really ours?”

I nodded.

He slowly reached out one finger, allowing the baby’s tiny hand to wrap around it.

The moment she did, his expression completely collapsed.

He covered his mouth.

Then the billionaire who had faced down business rivals without blinking began to cry.

“What’s her name?” he whispered.

I looked at my daughter.

“Lily.”

Vincent repeated it softly.

“Lily Moretti.”

I immediately looked at him.

“I haven’t decided whether she’ll have your last name.”

He lowered his eyes.

“You’re right. That’s your decision.”

A nurse smiled.

“Would you like to hold your daughter, Mr. Moretti?”

Vincent looked at me first.

He didn’t reach for her until I gave a small nod.

The nurse carefully placed Lily in his arms.

He held her awkwardly at first, afraid his hands were too large and his movements too clumsy.

“Hello, princess,” he whispered. “I’m your daddy.”

Lily made a tiny sound.

Vincent smiled through his tears.

“I missed everything, didn’t I?”

I looked away.

Because the answer was yes.

He had missed her first heartbeat, her first kick, every doctor’s appointment, and every sleepless night.

And I wasn’t sure whether I could ever forgive him for that.

A few minutes later, the pediatrician entered with Lily’s medical chart.

“Congratulations. Your daughter is healthy. However, we noticed something on the prenatal records that we’d like to discuss.”

My heart immediately tightened.

“Is something wrong?”

“Not necessarily. We just need to confirm some family medical information.”

Vincent stepped forward.

“Whatever you need, doctor.”

The doctor looked between us.

“Mrs. Bennett, your records indicate that your mother had a history of a rare inherited heart condition. Is that correct?”

I nodded slowly.

“Yes. But I was tested years ago. They told me I didn’t have it.”

The doctor nodded.

“That’s reassuring. We’ll arrange routine screening for the baby when appropriate.”

Vincent looked at me.

“Why didn’t you tell me about your mother’s condition?”

I gave a tired laugh.

“Because we weren’t married anymore.”

He had no response.

Then his phone began vibrating.

His security chief, Marco, was calling.

Vincent glanced at the screen before answering.

“What?”

Marco’s voice was loud enough for me to hear.

“Boss, there’s a problem. Someone has been asking questions about Mrs. Bennett’s hospital admission.”

Vincent’s expression darkened.

“Who?”

There was a brief silence.

Then Marco answered.

“Your mother.”

Vincent looked toward me.

I felt my stomach drop.

His mother, Eleanor Moretti, had never approved of me. She had always believed I was too ordinary for her son.

And during our divorce, she had made sure I understood exactly how little she thought I deserved.

Vincent ended the call.

“I’ll handle it.”

I shook my head.

“Don’t bring your family into this.”

“They’re already involved, Claire. You’re in a Moretti hospital, and Lily is my daughter.”

I looked at him coldly.

“She’s my daughter too. And I managed to protect her without your family for nine months.”

Vincent lowered his head.

“I know.”

For once, he didn’t argue.

But neither of us knew Eleanor was already on her way upstairs.

And she wasn’t coming to congratulate us.