The Mafia Boss's Bride

Chapter 90 : Emergency.

The sunlight peeked through the window, painting the rattan blinds a soft gold. Aqil, already awake, stretched his back against the rough wooden slats of their bed. He turned to Nayla, her face serene in sleep, her belly a gentle mound beneath the worn cotton dress. A smile tugged at his lips. Seven and a half months, their little miracle growing stronger with each sunrise.

He tiptoed out of bed, careful not to disturb her slumber. The air was crisp, carrying the scent of damp earth and woodsmoke. He knelt by the clay stove, coaxing embers to life with a gentle blow. Soon, a lick of flame danced among the kindling, casting flickering shadows on the mud walls.

Aqil rummaged through their meager pantry, pulling out a handful of rice and a small tin of sardines. Not much, but enough for a simple breakfast. 

Nayla stirred, her eyes fluttering open. A sleepy smile bloomed on her face as she saw him, the warmth of the stove fire chasing away the chill of the morning. "You're up early, dear." she murmured.

"Couldn't resist the smell of your favourite breakfast," Aqil teased. 

She laughed, a soft, tinkling sound like wind chimes. "You spoil me, Aqil."

He winked. "Just giving you and our little one the best start to the day."

Aqil set the rice to boil, the steam rising in a fragrant cloud and opened the sardine tin. He carefully arranged the sardines on a chipped enamel plate, adding a sprinkle of chopped onions and chilies from their tiny garden.

Nayla joined him at the table, her hand resting protectively on her swollen belly. Aqil poured her a mug of warm water for her. 

While eating, Aqil looked at Nayla and felt a warmth bloom in his chest, "You know Nayla? You look beautiful."

Nayla blushed, "Don't be silly, Aqil. I'm just fat." 

Taking her hand in his, Aqil replied, "You're carrying our child, dear. The most beautiful burden in the world."

He kissed her hand, then her forehead, his touch light as a butterfly's wing. "Go take a shower, my love. I'll clean up."

Nayla nodded and rose. Her movements were slower now, the weight of the baby evident in her gait. She stepped into the bathroom. The floor was wet, she hadn't anticipated the treacherous slipperiness. 

 One moment she was humming a lullaby to their unborn child, the next, the world tilted with a sickening lurch. Her foot met a stray drop of soap, and the world tilted on its axis.

 Her ankle twisted with a sickening crack. Before she could even gasp, the floor rushed up to meet her. Her hands flailed for purchase, but they found only empty air.

Then Silence...

 A searing, icy pain ripped through her abdomen, centered on the precious cargo she carried beneath her ribs. It was a white-hot agony, unlike anything she'd ever known, stealing the breath from her lungs and the words from her throat.

"Aqil!" Nayla's voice ripped through the air. He froze, the mug clattering to the floor, his heart dropping like a stone in his chest. His heart hammered against his ribs as he raced towards the bathroom, his bare feet slapping against the rough earth. The sight that greeted him stole the air from his lungs. Nayla lay crumpled on the cold floor, her eyes wide with pain, her hand clutching her swollen belly.

"Nayla!" He scrambled toward her. Nayla looked up, her eyes wide and glassy with pain. "Aqil..." she gasped, her voice a broken whisper. "It hurts..."

The sight of her, pale and trembling, his child's home a battleground of pain, made the world tilt for Aqil. He knelt beside her, his touch feather-light on her arm. "Hold on, sayang," he murmured, forcing his voice into a semblance of calm. "Don't move, okay? I'm here."