The rain barely stopped, red lights lit up the estate's stone driveway as Alexa was laid on a stretcher, sweat glittering on her pale forehead, her hands clutching her abdomen as waves of pain rippled through her lover's belly. Her breaths were short and frantic.

“ She's experiencing contractions,” the paramedics muttered into the radio. “Possibly early Labour, third trimester, maybe preterm.”

Roman hovered beside her, his hands never leaving hers. “Stay with Alexa, don't close your ...