Page 37 of Accidentally Knocked Up By the Bratva

Zara's fork pauses halfway to her mouth, her eyes locking with mine. I wonder if she can hear the pounding of my heart beating so loud in my own ears.

"For me?" Zara's voice is soft, a hint of confident joy coloring her tone. "You shouldn't have gone to so much trouble, Abram."

I lean in slightly, my voice dropping to a low rumble. "Nothing is too much trouble. I want you to feel at home. To take over this place, the kitchen too. I have the numbers for the chef, cleaner, and driver on the refrigerator. Please, use them as your own, Darling."

A flush creeps up her neck at the term of endearment, and I find myself captivated by the way it spreads across her cheeks. She takes a sip of wine, her eyes never leaving mine over the rim of the glass.

As we continue to eat, our conversation flows easily, peppered with subtle flirtations and loaded glances. I find myself leaning closer, drawn in by her wit and charm.

"Tell me," I say, cutting into my own scallop, "how are you finding this change so far? Not too fast, too soon, I hope? I’d hate for you to feel uncomfortable."

Zara's lips curl into a coy smile. "It's been… interesting. You’ve made everything so comfortable, Abram."

"And the company?" I can't help but ask in a teasing tone.

She laughs, the sound light and melodic. "The company is… palatable."

“Palatable,” I playfully wince.

“Perfect,” she corrects after a moment’s silence, looking right into me with those honey-brown eyes. There’s more she’s saying, just from how she has me locked in her gaze.

I can't tear my eyes away from her. As the night progresses, every movement, every soft laugh, every fleetingglance she throws my way ignites a fire within me. My mind wanders, conjuring vivid images of what I'd like to do to her.

In my head, I'm pushing her against the wall, my hands roaming her curves. I picture lifting her onto the table and scattering the dishes to the floor as I lay her down. In this fantasy, her legs wrap around my waist, pulling me closer as I—

"Abram?" Zara's voice cuts through my reverie. "You seem… distracted."

I clear my throat, shifting in my seat. "Sorry,” I murmur, not finding an excuse. “I was just admiring the view.”

Her cheeks flush a delightful shade of pink. "Oh? And what exactly are you admiring?"

I lean in, my voice dropping to a husky whisper. "Everything."

The tension between us crackles, electric and palpable. This right here, is how I make my move. “Zara,” I growl, leaning across the table, and she moves toward me, her chest heaving without restraint. I'm about to jump off my chair, grab her in my arms, and suggest we retire to my bedroom when suddenly—

*Ring! Ring!*

The shrill sound of my phone shatters our intimate bubble. I curse under my breath, fumbling for the device in my pocket.

"I'm sorry," I mutter, glancing at the screen. "I have to take this."

Disappointment flashes across Zara's face, mirroring my own frustration. I answer the phone, turning away from Zara to hide my expression. "Vladimir, what is it?"

“Brother, there’s trouble. We need help and backup.”

Trouble isn’t good. Trouble can mean life and death.

As I listen to his urgent words, my face tightens with concern. My jaw clenches, the muscles in my neck tensing. "I see. How bad?"

Vladimir's voice crackles through the line, detailing a situation that makes my blood run cold. This is worse than I thought. I run a hand through my hair, exhaling sharply.

"I'll be there in twenty minutes. Don't do anything until I arrive." I end the call, turning back to Zara with a heavy heart.

Her eyes are wide with worry. "Is everything alright, Abram?"

I force a smile, not wanting to burden her further. "Just a small business emergency. Nothing for you to worry about."

"You have to leave?" The disappointment in her voice is evident, matching the ache in my chest, my plans for the night dissipating into yet another dream.

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