Page 61 of Accidentally Knocked Up By the Bratva

His possessive words send a shiver down my spine. I lean into his touch for a moment before pulling away. "I'll be right back," I whisper.

The bathroom door closes behind me with a soft click. I lean against it, my heart pounding so loudly I'm sure Abram can hear it through the wood. With shaking fingers, I pull out the tests and carefully read the instructions.

"You can do this," I mutter to myself. "Just pee on the stick. Easy."

But nothing about this situation is easy. Not the way I fell into Abram's world. Not the intensity of our connection after just one passionate night. And certainly not the possibility that I might be carrying the child of Moscow's most feared Bratva boss.

I take a deep breath and follow the test instructions precisely. As I wait for the results, a thousand thoughts race through my mind. Am I ready to be a mother? Is Abram ready tobe a father? How can we possibly raise a child in his dangerous world?

I hear Abram's heavy footsteps pacing back and forth outside the bathroom door. The floorboards creak rhythmically under his weight, showing his growing concern. His shadow passes beneath the door every few seconds, a constant reminder of his looming presence.

"Zara?" His deep voice, usually so commanding, now carries a hint of vulnerability. "Is everything alright in there?"

I take a shaky breath, my fingers tracing the edge of the pregnancy test. "I'm fine, Abram. Just… give me a moment, please."

"Of course," he replies rather quickly.

I clear my throat, trying to steady my voice. "Actually, Abram, I think it's best if you wait outside. I want to check the results alone first."

There's a pause, and I can almost feel his hesitation through the door. "Are you sure?" he asks hesitantly.

"Yes," I say, more firmly this time. "I need this moment to myself. I promise I'll tell you everything soon."

I hear him sigh. "As you wish. I'll be right here when you're ready."

I wait for his retreating footsteps but don’t hear them. Of course he won’t leave, I think to myself ruefully. But for now, he is giving me the silence I so crave.

As his presence fades into the background, I turn back to the tests laid out before me, my heart racing. The next few minutes will change everything, and I need this solitude to face whatever truth awaits me.

The silence in the bathroom is deafening, broken only by the erratic beating of my heart. Each second feels like an eternity as I stare at the tests, willing them to reveal the answer. My mind races, a whirlwind of possibilities and fears.

"What if…" I whisper to myself, unable to finish the thought. I close my eyes, remembering the night that brought me here—Abram's touch, his intense gaze, the way he made me feel so alive. So wanted.

What if he isn’t prepared for a child?

A soft thud outside startles me. I can picture Abram, his broad shoulders tense, leaning against the wall. His protective nature must be in overdrive right now.

"Zara," his voice comes through, strained with worry. "I know you asked for privacy, but… I need to know you're alright."

I swallow hard, my throat tight. "I'm okay, Abram. Just… nervous."

"Let me in, please," he pleads, a rare vulnerability in his tone. "We should face this together."

My hand hovers over the doorknob. Part of me yearns for his strength, but another part needs this moment alone. "Not yet," I manage to say. "Please, just a little longer."

I hear a soft thud—his forehead against the door, perhaps? "You're killing me, Zara," he murmurs, his words laced with both frustration and tenderness.

Turning back to the tests, I take a deep breath. With trembling hands, I reach for the first test. My heart pounds so loudly that I'm sure Abram can hear it through the door. As I turn it over, my eyes widen and my breath catches in my throat. A clear, undeniable positive sign stares back at me.

"Oh my God," I whisper, my voice barely audible.

I grab the second test, then the third. Positive. Positive. The room starts to spin as the reality sinks in. I'm pregnant. With Abram's child.

Fear and awe war within me as I press a hand to my still-flat stomach. How can something so tiny already be changing everything?

Outside, I hear Abram's footsteps quicken, pacing back and forth. His agitation is palpable, even through the closed door. I can picture him running his hands through his dark hair, his jaw clenched with worry.

"Zara," he calls out, his deep voice strained. "Please… The suspense is killing me."

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