Page 49 of Accidentally Knocked Up By the Bratva

My stomach knots. What more could there be? Another torture dungeon?

"Oh?" I ask, trying to keep my voice steady despite the nervous flutter in my heart. Whatever it is, we can deal with it.

Abram's fingers touch my hand as he passes me a plate of fruit, leaving goosebumps in their wake. "The Bratva… it's more than just business. It's family."

I hold my breath, waiting for him to continue.

"Tonight," he says, his gaze intense, "you'll meet them. My family."

I nod slowly, unease swirling within me. His family—more people enshrouded in mystery and danger.

Just what I need. Not.

***

As evening falls, I stand before the mirror, smoothing down the silky fabric of my dress. I put on some jewelry and go for a neutral shade of lipstick. I’m nervous beyond belief. I’ve met Vladimir before, and our previous encounter still turns the taste in my mouth sour.

Will they all be like Vladimir? Cold, calculating, clearly despising of me? Will Abram's family accept me? Can I handle their strong personalities?

I take a deep breath, steeling myself for the night ahead. This isn't just about meeting his family; it's about proving I belong in Abram's world.

With one final glance at my reflection, I make my way to the kitchen. The staff bustles about, preparing for the evening's dinner.

"Elena," I call out to the head chef, "is everything on track for tonight?"

She nods, a reassuring smile on her face. "Of course, Miss Zara. We've prepared all of the Zolotov family's favorites."

I feel a wave of gratitude wash over me. "Thank you. I want everything to be perfect."

As I give final instructions to the staff, it hits me how much I want Abram's family to approve of me. The realizationof how deeply I care for him, how much he means to me, is both thrilling and terrifying.

And here he thinks he’s doing this, so I stay. When the truth is, meeting his family has turned the game on its head. Now, it’s not about seeing the whole of his world. It’s about understanding where or if I can fit in.

I clutch the kitchen counter, steadying myself.You can do this, Zara,I whisper to myself.For Abram.

As I'm lost in thought, the kitchen door swings open. Abram strides in, a vision in his perfectly tailored suit. His presence immediately fills the room, and the staff stand to attention, ending their chatter partly out of fear and partly out of respect. He’s that commanding and powerful, yet his eyes soften when they meet mine.

"You look beautiful," he says, his warm smile melting away some of my anxiety.

I feel a blush creep up my cheeks. "Thank you. You clean up pretty well yourself."

Abram chuckles, then turns to the staff. "Everything in order?"

"Yes, Sir," Elena responds promptly.

He nods, satisfied. "Excellent. Zara, shall we?"

Taking my hand, Abram leads me to the living room. The rich scent of leather and wood envelops us as we enter. He guides me to a plush armchair, his touch gentle but firm.

"Relax," he murmurs, pouring scotch into a crystal glass. "Everything will be fine. Trust the staff; they know what they're doing."

I accept the drink, grateful for something to occupy my hands. "I know, it's just… your family. They're important to you."

Abram kneels before me, his intense gaze capturing mine. "And you're important to me. They'll love you, Zara. How could they not?"

I take a sip of my drink, savoring the burn. "You make it sound so simple."

"Because it is," he says, rising. "Now, let's head to the dining room. They'll be arriving soon."

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