Page 105 of The Don

“Thank you.” I instantly relax as I pick up a piece of fried chicken and dunk it into the jar of fluff.

Rose starts chuckling and shakes her head. “That’s so gross.”

My eyes roll closed with the first mouthful of fluff-covered chicken. “Heaven.”

“So,” Rose says in a serious voice. “That’s gross.” She points to the chicken. “But, Dominic and I have some news.”

“What?” I ask with a mouth full of chicken, fluff, and a piece of feta.

“Your baby will have a cousin to play with in about seven months.”

“Oh my God!” I drop my fork and try to get to my feet, but with this massive belly, it’s a hard thing to do.

“Don’t get up.” Rose stops me before I manage to stand.

“Congratulations,” Ruben says. “This is wonderful news.”

I chew like a crazy woman so I can give them my proper congratulations. “I’m so happy for you,” I say.

“Thank you,” Dominic replies with the biggest, cheekiest grin. He’s so proud of himself and my sister. They truly are such beautiful people.

My heart is so full of love for everyone around this table. It also forces me to remember that at the worst time in my life, my family was by my side.

“A toast to the new parents-to-be.” Ruben holds his scotch glass up. Dominic and Rose lift their glasses, while I raise my water. “Congratulations on this—”

“Uhhh,” I mumble as I look down. Everyone lowers their glasses and looks over to me. My skin breaks out in goose bumps as I reach between my legs and gasp.

“Eliza?” Rose leaps to her feet and rounds the table. “Are you okay?”

I look at her, then over to Ruben. “My water just broke.”

Ruben’s eyes widen before a massive smile splits his face. He swoops me up in his arms and runs to the front door. “Car! Now.” There’s a swirl of commotion happening around us.

“I don’t have any contractions yet,” I say trying to calm the craziness down. Two cars speed around to the front of the house where they stop abruptly. Ruben is completely ignoring my words as he vigilantly slides me into the car and sidles in beside me. “Ruben, I’m okay,” I repeat.

Dante’s on the phone and turns to look at us as the car speeds down the driveway toward the opening gates. “The medical team are on their way,” he says.

“It might be hours, maybe even days.” Ruben and Dante’s turmoil is insane.

Ruben tilts my head up and kisses my lips. “I’m doing what’s best for you and our baby.”

There he goes again, being overprotective and dominating. I relax in his arms and feel the first twinge of a contraction. I’ve been told it’s like period pain on steroids. “Oh,” I say as I place my hand to my stomach.

“Hurry the fuck up!” Ruben is more stressed than I am.

“I’m okay.”

The drive to the hospital should usually take about twenty minutes, but we managed to get there in under ten. Ruben scoops me and runs toward the doors. “I can walk.”

“Nope.”

The team is already waiting when we arrive. Jesus, do these people sleep at the hospital, or has Ruben paid them a massive amount to have them on hand? My guess is the second one.

“Mrs. Sacco, how are you?” my OB-GYN asks.

“My water broke and I think I got my first contraction.”

“Okay, let’s set you up and I can see what’s happening.”