Page 63 of Accidentally Knocked Up By the Bratva

My breath catches in my throat. This fierce, powerful man is offering me his heart, laid bare before me. In this moment, I see not the feared Bratva leader, but simply Abram—my Abram.

"Yes," I whisper, my voice trembling with emotion. My knees begin to tremble, and my hand shakes as I put it forward in front of him. "Yes, I'll marry you."

My voice hitches in my throat as tears stream down my eyes.

As he slips the ring onto my finger, I add softly, "You know, we don't need all this. The ring, the proposal… All that matters is us, our love."

Abram rises, pulling me close. "I know. But you deserve the world, and I intend to give it to you. In fact, this isn’t how I planned to propose to you. I wanted to whisk you away, to give you the perfect proposal."

“There’s no moment more perfect than this,” I whisper. I lean into him, breathing in his familiar scent. In this moment,wrapped in his arms with our future growing inside me, I feel truly, completely safe.

Abram's strong arms encircle me, his warmth seeping into my very bones. I press my ear against his chest, listening to the steady thrum of his heartbeat. It's a rhythm I've come to know intimately, one that now syncs with my own.

"Can you believe it?" I murmur, my voice muffled against his shirt. "A baby… and now we're engaged."

His hand moves to cup my face, tilting it up toward his. His steel-gray eyes, usually so cold and calculating, are as warm as a summer lake somewhere.

"I love you, Zara," he whispers, his accent thicker with emotion. "More than I ever thought possible."

I reach up, tracing the angles of his chin. "I love you too, Abram. All of you—the good, the bad, the complicated."

He chuckles, a low rumble in his chest. "Complicated is an understatement."

"I know," I say, a small smile playing on my lips. "But it's our complicated. And now…"

I guide his hand to my still-flat stomach, watching as wonder spreads across his face.

"Now we have this," he finishes, his voice filled with awe.

He looks back up at me and leans down. I close my eyes as his lips meet mine. This time, he kisses me slowly and sweet.

Chapter 23 - Abram

My heart pounds as I stand in the dimly lit gallery, surrounded by the soft glow of candles and the sweet scent of roses. Everything must be perfect for Zara. I adjust a bouquet, my hands trembling slightly. "Get it together, Abram," I mutter to myself. "You've faced down men holding guns to your forehead."

Butthis—this is different. This is Zara, and everything has to be perfect.

I pace the length of the room, my footsteps echoing in the silence. The paintings on the walls seem to watch me, judging my every move. I stop in front of a large mirror, straightening my tie for the hundredth time. The man staring back at me looks like a trembling man in love, desperate to make things right.

A text message buzzes on my phone. It's from my security team. "She's arriving now, Boss."

My breath catches in my throat. This is it. I position myself near the entrance, rehearsing my words one last time. The door creaks open, and there she is—my Zara, silhouetted against the moonlight. She steps inside, her eyes wide as she takes in the transformed space.

"Abram?" Her voice is soft, questioning. "What is all this?"

I drink in the sight of her, my chest tightening with emotion. "Welcome, moya lyubov," I say—my love—extending my hand.

I take Zara's delicate hand in mine, noting how soft her skin feels against my calloused hand. The contrast between ushas always been stark—her innocence against my darkness. Yet somehow, we fit.

"Come with me," I murmur, gently tugging her deeper into the gallery. “Trust me.”

As we move forward, motion sensors trigger the lighting, bathing our path in a warm, ethereal glow. Zara gasps softly, her eyes widening as each new section of the gallery reveals itself.

"It's… magical," she whispers, her gaze darting from painting to painting.

I can't take my eyes off her.

We pause before a large canvas, swirls of blue and gold reminiscent of a starry night. I can feel Zara's pulse quicken beneath my fingertips as I hold her hands. Her breath comes in short, rapid bursts, and I can see the mix of anticipation and nervousness dancing in her eyes.

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