Page 79 of Accidentally Knocked Up By the Bratva

The baby kicks in response, a forceful jab that makes me gasp and laugh. "Already so strong, little one. Just like your father."

As if summoned by my thoughts, Abram's reflection appears behind me in the mirror. His powerful arms encircle my waist, hands splaying possessively over my belly.

"Happy birthday again, my love," he murmurs, nuzzling my neck. "How are my two favorite people today?"

I lean back against his broad chest, relishing his warmth. "We're perfect. Though your child seems determined to use my bladder as a punching bag."

Abram chuckles, the sound rumbling through me. "That's my boy. A fighter already."

"Or girl," I remind him, turning in his arms to face him. "We don't know for sure yet."

His stormy eyes soften as they roam over me. "Boy or girl, it doesn't matter. This child is a piece of you and me, Zara. That's all I care about."

My heart swells with love for this man who's given me everything. "I can't believe we're really doing this. That in two months, we'll be parents."

"Are you nervous?" Abram asks, his thumb caressing my cheek.

I bite my lip, considering. "A little. But mostly, I'm excited. Impatient, even. I want to hold our baby, to see whose eyes they have, whose smile."

"They'll be perfect," Abram assures me, pulling me closer. "Just like their mother."

As his lips meet mine in a tender kiss, I melt into him, overwhelmed by the depth of my love for this man and the child we've created together. He pulls back and then tells me to get dressed.

Finally, for my birthday, we’re stepping out of the house.

***

The morning sun streams through the car window, warming my face as Abram navigates the city streets. His hand rests on my thigh, a comforting weight.

"Where are we going?" I ask, curiosity bubbling inside me.

Abram's lips curl into a secretive smile. "You'll see soon enough, birthday girl."

We pull up to a sleek building in the arts district, its modern facade a stark contrast to the surrounding architecture.My heart skips a beat as Abram helps me out of the car, his strong hands steadying me.

"Close your eyes," he whispers, guiding me forward.

I hear the jingle of keys and the creak of a door opening—the air changes, cooler now, with a faint scent of fresh paint.

"Okay, open them."

I gasp, my eyes widening as I take in the space before me. Pristine white walls stretch in every direction, bathed in natural light from skylights above. The polished concrete floor gleams and I can already envision it covered in artwork.

"Abram, is this…?" I can't finish the sentence, overwhelmed by what I'm seeing.

He nods, his eyes shining with pride. "Your very own gallery, Zara. A place for your art to shine."

Tears blur my vision as I walk further into the space, my fingers trailing along the walls. It's perfect—spacious yet intimate, with alcoves for smaller pieces and a large open area for installations.

"There's a studio in the back," Abram adds softly. "For when inspiration strikes. I truly think you should paint more."

I turn to face him, my heart so full it feels like it might burst. "I… I don't know what to say," I stammer, overwhelmed by the magnitude of this gift. "This is… it's everything I've ever dreamed of."

Abram closes the distance between us, cupping my face in his hands. "You deserve it all, my love. Your talent, your passion—they deserve to be seen."

I lean into his touch, tears streaming down my cheeks. "Thank you," I whisper, the words feeling woefully inadequate. "I can't believe you did this for me."

"I'd do anything for you, Zara," he murmurs, his thumbs brushing away my tears. "Seeing you happy, seeing your dreams come true—that's all I want."

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