The Girl Who Always Wins (Soulless Book 13)

by Victoria Quinn

  “Ready to go, baby?”

  The sound of my voice shattered her concentration. “Shit. What time is it?” She looked at the corner of her computer.

  I wished I were as relaxed as she was about the whole thing.

  She left her things as they were and grabbed her jacket before we walked out together. “How are things at the hospital?”

  “I didn’t go in. We’re waiting for results, so I stayed home.”

  “Oh. What’d you do?”

  “Did some cooking.”

  “Ooh…what did you make?”

  “Meals for the week. And some muffins for you.”

  She grabbed my hand as we stepped outside. “You’re so the one for me.”

  I wished I could mirror her optimism, but I just couldn’t. I opened the passenger door for her.

  She didn’t get in. Instead, she stared at me. “Atlas, everything will be fine—”

  “Let’s just get going.”

  “If I weren’t going to be fine, it would have happened by now—”

  “I really don’t want to have this conversation on the sidewalk right now.”

  She flipped her hair and got into the passenger seat.

  In silence, we drove to the doctor’s appointment across town and parked in the underground parking garage. After a short walk and a check-in, we ended up in the same exam room we’d been in before, Daisy prepped for the ultrasound.

  The anxiety had returned—worse than ever before.

  She didn’t try to make me feel better with small talk.

  I preferred the silence anyway.

  My thoughts horrified me, but they were better than false hope.

  Dr. Jamil came in a moment later, greeted us, and then got to work. The lubricated probe was placed against her stomach, and he searched the screen for information.

  Daisy looked at me. “Atlas.” She extended her hand to me, wanting me to take it, for me to stand beside her and be a part of this.

  I knew how this would end, but I couldn’t let her go through it alone. I had to be there for her, to cry as I watched her cry, to support her as the world came crashing down. Grief like she’d never known was about to strike her down.

  I came to her side and grabbed her hand.

  She smiled.

  Dr. Jamil moved the screen, took screenshots, and then paused the image. “You see that.”

  I’d seen it a second ago, but I couldn’t believe what my eyes tried to tell my brain.

  A strong and racing heartbeat.

  The baby was still there.

  Daisy squeezed my hand. “Oh my god…look at that.”

  I couldn’t believe it. They were still fighting, still holding on.

  “Everything looks normal,” Dr. Jamil said. “Everything is developing as it should. Daisy’s blood work looks good…”

  “The baby is developing…?”

  “Yes.” He zoomed in, getting a better picture. “Arms, legs, hands, feet, fingers…you can see it right here.”

  My hand lost all its strength and dropped Daisy’s. I could see the picture right in front of me, but I moved closer, to get a better view of something I could see clearly with 20/20 vision. “I…” Tears moved into my eyes because this was real. My baby made it past the development stage, had grown into a small person, had fingers…toes. They had everything they needed to grow… Nothing was missing.

  Dr. Jamil silently excused himself from the room.

  I turned the monitor closer to me and examined it, going into doctor mode, grabbing the chart and looking through her labs. My eyes watered more because everything in front of me told me this was a normal pregnancy, that all of her figures were in normal range. Before I knew it, there were tears on my cheeks.

  “Atlas.”

  A couple drops splashed onto the paperwork on the clipboard.

  “Atlas…” Her voice broke, full of tears.

  I finally had the strength to look at her, to look at the woman who’d managed to beat the odds and give me something that every doctor said couldn’t be done. They said there was something wrong with me…but she fixed it.

  We both cried, looking at each other.

  Her hand reached for mine, and she squeezed it.

  “We’re having a baby…”

  She nodded, smiling through her tears. “Yeah, we are.”

  My arms wrapped around her, and I hugged her, holding on to her on the table, breathing through my tears, treasuring this moment. “We’re having a fucking baby.”

  22

  Daisy

  Atlas was a whole new man.

  A man I hadn’t seen for a very long time.

  Maybe not ever.

  He lay beside me in bed, his hand on my slightly distended stomach, his fingers spanning all the way across it. He would study it, rub it with his fingertips, feeling for a kick or movement, even though it was too soon for that.

  I watched him worship my belly, watched him press kisses over the skin, love our baby with all his heart.

  “I just can’t believe this…” His hand rested on my stomach. “It’s been a couple days, but I still can’t believe it. With the others, they never made it past the early development stages. They couldn’t grow limbs or defining features because…that chromosome was incomplete. But this person…did it. I just…” He shook his head. “I can’t believe this is happening right now. The Hamiltons can really do anything, I guess.”

  I gave a light chuckle. “Oh, come on…”

  “I saw so many doctors. They all said it wasn’t possible.”

  “Doctors are wrong all the time.”

  “But not multiple experts in their field.”

  “Whatever. Doesn’t matter. God proved them wrong.”

  “Yeah…” He released a sigh. “I guess He did…” He leaned down and pressed another kiss to my stomach. “I haven’t been this happy…in a very long time.”

  “I can tell.” My fingers moved into his hair, lightly brushing it back, seeing the unconditional love already in his eyes.

  “I’ve been so miserable these last three months, just waiting for the shoe to drop.”

  “I noticed.”

  “But then I was wrong… And it feels so good to be wrong.” His hand remained on my stomach as he shifted his head to me, getting close to me, those bedroom eyes coming into focus.

  We’d been having sex like we used to, but it wasn’t quite the same. There was always something holding us back a bit, always something in the back of our minds. But now, he looked at me with an inferno in his eyes, the kind that could take down an entire city. One hand moved into my hair, and he leaned in and kissed me.

  Kissed me good.

  “Honey, we’re both so happy.” Mom put her hand on my stomach, feeling nothing but a slight little bump. “We’ve got another family member on the way. I hope it’s a girl. We have enough boys.”

  I chuckled. “I bet it is a girl. Only a bad bitch could make a miracle happen.”

  Dad smiled as he stood in front of me in their living room, watching my mom feel my stomach. “Our miracle baby. That’s what I’ll have to call her as a nickname…Miracle.” His arm moved around me, and he placed a kiss on my temple.

  Bear sat there too, looking up at me like he knew I had a litter of puppies in my belly.

  “When Atlas told me at work…he could barely keep it together. I’ve never seen a man so happy to be a father.”

  “I know,” I said with a smile. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen him so happy.”

  “So, what are you guys going to do?” Mom asked.

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  “Gonna raise your baby in a penthouse or move outside the city?” Mom said. “Get married now or later?”

  “Oh, right,” I said. “Shit, I’m having a baby.”

  Mom chuckled. “What are you going to do about childcare?”

  I stared at her.

  She shook her head. “We’re happy to babysit whenever you need us, but nope. Not g
onna happen.”

  “Shit…I guess I have to get a nanny.” I’d never thought I’d be one of those moms with a nanny, but I couldn’t step down from the position I’d just started, and I couldn’t ask Atlas to cut back on his hours either.

  Dad patted me on the arm. “You’ll figure it out, sweetheart.”

  “Maybe I can work from home a couple days a week…” Or maybe I should just hand off the job to someone else because if I worked from home, I wouldn’t even be able to handle a single patient. As strong-willed as I was, I knew I couldn’t do it all. I’d have to make a sacrifice somewhere. “I think I’ll step down and have Anthony take my place. His kids are grown, his wife works, he has more time.”

  Dad didn’t show his opinion on his face, just accepted what I said.

  “Because I still want to see patients, and between being a mom and being the director, I can’t do both. At least this will allow me to do what I love.” Months ago, this sacrifice would have stung, but now it didn’t sting at all. I was giving up my life for something better than all those things.

  “You’re the happiest working with people,” Dad said. “Not paperwork.”

  “Very true,” Mom said.

  “So, Dad…” Our baby made me forget about the other big news going on in our lives. “Atlas told me everything going on at work. It’s incredible.”

  His eyes lit up, the joy undeniable. “We’re still waiting to see patient response, but our results are already promising.”

  Mom hugged him around his waist before she rose up to kiss him on the mouth. “So proud of you.”

  His arm circled her, and he kissed her. “I know, baby.”

  “It makes up for you being a shithead.”

  Dad rolled his eyes.

  “What happens next?” I asked.

  “We have to complete this trial, and if it—”

  “Then what happens?”

  “We publish our findings, file with the FDA, and then…it can be accessible to everyone.”

  “That is fucking unbelievable.” I cupped my face, shocked that this was happening. “You’re going to win another Nobel, Dad! That’s wild. No one has ever won two Nobels in medicine.”

  Dad shrugged. “I don’t care about that.”

  I gave him a cold look. “Everyone cares about a Nobel.”

  “But I care more about getting this approved so everyone can have treatment. That’s the part of my legacy I’m concerned with. And if the pharmaceutical companies decide to jack up the price so it’s unaffordable to people, I’ll march all the way to the White House.”

  “Or everyone will come to you.” Mom patted him on the arm. “Like they always do.” Mom turned to me. “It’s a big week for Atlas. He must be thrilled.”

  “Honestly, he hasn’t talked about the research much. I think he’s more excited about this…” My hand moved over my stomach.

  Dad smiled. “That’s exactly how it should be.”

  The next two weeks passed in a blissful blur.

  All of his patients saw signs of progress, and they hoped for a recovery for each one of them. When Atlas was home with me, he was attentive and loving, the charming, smooth guy I’d fallen in love with.

  It was nice.

  He was on top of me in bed, his lips all over my stomach, kissing me and inching farther down.

  With my pregnant belly, he loved me more, worshiped me more, couldn’t get enough of me even though he already had it all. All I had to do was lie there and enjoy it, feel him kiss me between my legs, make me writhe in bed, gripping the sheets in ecstasy.

  He drew me into another climax, my hips bucking automatically against his sexy mouth, and once that was over, he was on top of me again. He tilted my hips and pushed his length inside me, sliding through the wetness from his kisses and my arousal.

  Then he rocked into me, one hand on my stomach, feeling the life inside me. He was a behemoth in bed, anxious for more, eager to make love every chance he got. He was a man who had regained his confidence, regained his worth.

  It was beautiful to see.

  The life we made together made him so happy.

  We groaned and rocked together, clinging on to each other in our unbridled passion, the darkness of the bedroom enveloping us in warmth. He finished with a masculine moan, his dick hardening just a bit more before he released.

  My hands swiped against his sweaty chest, my ring gliding across like skates on ice. I loved it when his skin tinted red, when that sexual flush entered his flesh.

  He leaned down and kissed me everywhere again, like all the love he gave me wasn’t quite enough, and then he lay beside me, spooning me from behind, his hand moving to my stomach where it always stayed through the night.

  I took a break from the office and went to my doctor’s appointment.

  I wasn’t meeting with Dr. Jamil but someone else entirely.

  A geneticist.

  I’d given a blood sample prior to the appointment, and now I wanted to know if there was something in my DNA I should know about. I was thrilled that the baby was doing well, but since it was me, I always wanted to understand why something worked or didn’t work.

  He came into the office, chart in hand, and gave it to me straight. “So, at your fifteenth chromosome, you have an extra allele.”

  “What?” Illness didn’t run in my family, except for my mother’s cancer scare, so I’d never been told bad news like this. I had an unusual variation in my DNA, and that usually had dire consequences. “What does that mean?”

  “Fortunately, it doesn’t mean anything in your case. It’s just a normal variant. But I thought you’d like to know.”

  “I don’t have…a chronic disease that will manifest itself later?”

  “Nope.”

  I gave a slight nod. “Well, thank you.” Now I understood why this baby was possible.

  He had an incomplete chromosome…and I had an extra.

  23

  Atlas

  Every single patient in the trial reached remission.

  Every. Single. One.

  Stage four to cancer-free.

  Was this real?

  This was seriously my life right now?

  The last patient was discharged from the hospital, but I stayed at the pod, doing paperwork, preparing everything to publish. This was groundbreaking stuff, and I suspected it would be in the news before it was formalized.

  Dr. Hamilton came to the table, a big-ass grin on his face. “Last time we’ll be at the hospital for a while.” He fell into the chair beside me. “Cleo and I are taking a vacation. Going to spend some time at the cabin.”

  “That sounds great.”

  “Gotta make up for being a shithead.” He grinned like it was amusing.

  “I can’t believe this is real.”

  “Neither can I. And word has gotten out already…of course it has.”

  “How?” I asked.

  “Our patients. We can’t publicly share their information, but there’s nothing stopping them from sharing their own prognosis with the world. It’s everywhere on social media, talking about their miraculous recovery from Hamilton Research.”

  “Well, in this day and age, nothing can stay a secret.”

  “It’s fine. Guess who I got a call from today?” He turned in his chair and looked at me.

  “You know, I hate these guessing games…”

  He chuckled. “Anders from the Karolinska Institute.”

  “The Karolinska Institute …as in the Swedish medical school.”

  “Yes.”

  “As in…the Nobel Prize Committee.”

  He nodded.

  Oh my fucking god.

  “We have to formally submit our research when we’re ready…but we’re unofficially already considered.”

  Jesus.

  He grinned, like he knew I was totally overwhelmed. “You’re going to win a Nobel Prize.”

  “I mean, it might not be us—”

  “No disrespect to the other candida
tes, but that’s not going to happen.”

  I couldn’t even imagine having that sash around my neck, to have the same medallion that Deacon had on the wall in his penthouse. That was the glass ceiling. Could I go any higher than that? Unless I won two…like Deacon. “I think we should include a third person on our paper when we submit.”

  “Who?” he asked, his mood immediately dropping.

  “I talked to Daisy about my patients a lot, and it was actually her suggestion about the markers. Maybe I would have made that realization myself at some point, but maybe not. It was her suggestion that sped this along.”

  His eyes lit up with a smile. “I think it’s fair to include her.”

  “Me too.” She was the sounding board that got me headed in the right direction. If it’d taken me weeks or months, most of the patients in the trial would have died.

  “I always wondered if one of my kids would win a Nobel someday…and I guess two of them will.”

  I was on my way home from the hospital, sitting in the back seat of the cab, having a daydream about the ceremony where I’d be given a medallion with my mentor, my role model, my superhero, for my excellence in medicine.

  And with my wife too.

  She’d better be my wife by then.

  My eyes caught the front of a shop as we passed it, baby clothes in the window. There was a onesie on display that read “My Mom is a Bad Bitch.” “Hey, pull over here.”

  “Right here?” He immediately hit the brakes.

  “Yeah. Stop.” I handed over the cash then walked to the window. The onesie was white, so it was unisex. Whether we had a boy or a girl, it would look great, and Daisy would love it. I stayed in front of the window because I’d never really had the luxury of buying baby clothes, diapers, nothing. Every time I imagined myself being a father…it was cruelly taken away.

  But this time, it wouldn’t be.

  I went inside and got it.

  She was almost five months along, and she was definitely showing. Maybe not in the clothes she wore to work or the warm sweaters she wore on the weekends, but when it was just us two at home and she wore those little skimpy shirts, she definitely showed.