Roman returned to New York thirty-six hours later, landing at JFK Airport during a torrential mid-winter rainstorm.

As his SUV pulled out onto the highway, his personal phone rang sharply. It was Sadi’s private line from the hospital.

"Roman!" Sadi’s sister, Maya, cried out through the speaker over the sound of blaring medical monitors. "It's time! Her water broke three weeks early! They're taking her into the delivery room at Columbia Presbyterian!"

Roman’s heart slammed against his ribs like a sledgehammer. "I'm ten minutes away! Tell her I'm coming!"

"Driver! Floor it!" Roman roared.

The heavy SUV roared down the rain-slicked highway, sirens flashing as Roman’s private security cleared the traffic ahead.

Inside the private delivery suite at Columbia Presbyterian, Sadi lay on the bed, her face flushed with sweat, clutching the bedsheets tightly as another contraction hit her body.

"Roman..." she gasped through her teeth, her dark eyes searching the doorway.

The heavy double doors burst open.

Roman rushed into the room, abandoning his wet leather coat on the floor. He dropped to his knees beside her bed, gathering her small, trembling hand into his massive grip, his eyes wild with love and panic.

"I'm here, my Queen," Roman choked out, pressing his lips against her sweaty knuckles. "I'm right here."

Sadi let out a long, ragged breath, her grip tightening around his fingers until her knuckles turned white. "You're late, Mr. Moretti."

"I know," Roman wept softly, kissing her forehead. "I'm sorry. I'll never leave your side again."