THE WIDOWED CEO'S TRIPLETS.

Chapter 4

POV Lucía

The days leading up to it were an endless descent: icy hallways that smelled of disinfectant and death, white lights that burned the eyes, the constant beep of machines that no longer saved anyone. Mom was crumbling before me, though she pretended to be strong. Her smile trembled like a dry leaf, her skin pale as a worn sheet, and her eyes… no longer shone. They merely endured, clinging to a thread that thinned by the hour. I visited her every afternoon, holding my swollen belly, feeling the triplets kick as if they sensed the world collapsing.

They admitted her to the ICU again on a gray day, under a torrential rain that battered the windows. I signed papers with sweaty hands, my heart pounding in my chest, understanding nothing. I was eight months pregnant, the brutal weight of the triplets crushing me: every step an effort, every movement a reminder that my body was at its limit, stretched to the edge of collapse. But nothing mattered as long as she breathed, as long as her cold hand still squeezed mine.

But that night everything changed. The phone rang in the darkness, a tone that cut through the silence like a blade.

“Lucía Navarro?” —the voice was deep, exhausted— “You need to come to the hospital. It’s your mother.”

The cup slipped from my hands, crashing to the floor in a noise I didn’t hear. I didn’t grab a coat or decent shoes. I just ran, the night’s cold biting my skin, the rain soaking me as I crossed empty streets.

The elevator took an eternity. I climbed the stairs gasping, holding my swollen belly, feeling a contraction that bent me in half like lightning. Hold on, little ones, I thought, pressing my hands to my side as pain radiated down my back. But I kept climbing, ignoring the fire in my lungs, the weight dragging me down.

When I entered the room, I knew these were her last minutes. Her skin was almost translucent, her breathing a dying whisper, broken by weak coughs echoing in the sterile space.

“Daughter…” she murmured, looking at me with a tenderness that tore me apart inside. “Promise me… you won’t let yourself die with me.”

“Mom, please…” I could barely speak, tears choking me, as I knelt by the bed.

“You will deliver those babies… and you’ll have your life. Don’t stay alone… promise me you’ll look for your own happiness.”

She squeezed my hand with an impossible strength for her weakened body, her cold fingers digging into my skin.

I cried, shaking my head, sobs lodged in my throat.

“Don’t leave me… don’t leave me,” I whispered, shattered.

She stroked my cheek, like when I was a child afraid of the dark.

“I love you… so much…” Her voice faded, a thread barely audible. “Look among my things… you’ll find something… that will change your life…”

I didn’t understand. Her words dissolved into the air, an enigma that left me confused, but there was no time to ask. Her eyes closed, a tear sliding down her pale cheek.

The monitor changed.

First slower.

Then a long, endless beep.

Nothing.

“Doctor!” I cried, even though I already knew. She was gone.

I clung to her still body, inhaling her lavender-and-hospital scent, desperate to imprint every detail before she was taken from me forever. The pain hit me like a wave, an emptiness that suffocated me—and then I felt another contraction, stronger, more insistent, as if the shock had awakened something inside me.

I stumbled into the hallway, blinded by tears, the world blurry, holding my belly as pain intensified, waves of agony that forced me to brace myself against the wall.

And then I saw him.

Adrián Valcourt.

Standing there, sunken, broken.

Crying.

Adrián—the man of absolute control, the ruthless businessman who never showed cracks. His face contorted, eyes red, hands tangled in his hair as if trying to tear out the pain, silently sobbing against the wall.

I approached slowly, voice strangled, ignoring the cramp tearing through my abdomen.

“Mr. Valcourt… what… what happened?”

He lifted his gaze, eyes like pits of agony, bloodshot.

“Claudia…” —his voice broke, torn— and suddenly he exploded, punching the wall— “My wife! Lucía, she…!”

He swallowed hard, trembling visibly, his body convulsing with contained rage.

“A damn driver… didn’t stop. She died instantly! Instantly, damn it!”

The hallway shrank, the air thickened. My breath caught, and another contraction bent me over, but I held on.

“No…” I murmured, covering my mouth.

He squeezed his eyes shut, as if trying to erase the memory, then shouted, his voice echoing through the empty corridor.

“She went out to buy clothes… toys… for the babies,” he spat with blinding anger, punching the wall again, the echo booming. “She didn’t want you to carry more! She wanted to surprise you! She was so… so happy, damn it!”

His voice broke entirely, but his pain blinded him, turning into fury.

“And now she’s dead. Dead because of this!”

I took a step toward him by instinct, but his expression changed. Hardened. Sharpened. Turned accusing, explosive.

“This wouldn’t have happened if this damn pregnancy didn’t exist!” he roared, pointing at me with a trembling finger, his face twisted by guilt and rage. “If we hadn’t insisted! If we hadn’t tried again… she would be alive! You and this… this mistake took her from me!”

A knife stabbed my chest, pain radiating into my belly, and another contraction hit me, sharper, forcing me to gasp.

“Mr. Valcourt… I… I’m so sorry…” I managed, voice shaking, tears mixing with sweat.

But he no longer saw me as an ally. Only as a living reminder of his loss, his pain blinding him completely.

“Lucía,” he thundered, his voice an icy storm, “I’ll pay you everything! The full contract. More! Whatever it takes! But I don’t want those children. I can’t! Not after this! Take them, burn them, do whatever you want—just keep them away from me!”

My legs buckled, the world spinning, pain intensifying in my abdomen, contractions coming in waves, the shock of losing Mom triggering premature labor.

“You… you can’t say that,” I whispered, broken, doubling over from pain. “They’re your children.”

“Claudia was my life,” he replied with explosive coldness, his fist clenching until his knuckles turned white. “And the price of this attempt… was her! All for nothing!”

He turned his back to me, walking like a ghost down the hallway, leaving me alone in the void, his footsteps echoing like accusations.

My phone vibrated. A deposit. Double. Triple. A desperate attempt to cut all ties.

I held my massive belly with both hands. The triplets moved, strong, restless, as if sensing the storm. Another contraction forced me against the wall, my breathing ragged, knowing I needed to call for help, but pain paralyzed me.

I had lost my mother.

Adrián had just lost his wife.

And those three little ones… had just lost everything.

I cradled my belly, protecting them with my arms, tears falling onto the stretched fabric as another contraction made me scream silently.

“I won’t leave you alone,” I whispered, my voice trembling from sobs and pain. “Not like me… not like him… not like my mother. I’ll take care of you. I promise.”

In the midst of the agony, I discovered something: they were the only thing I had left. The only thing still giving me strength to keep breathing, even while my body broke apart.