He nods with a small smirk, then goes on. “My father saw opportunity here. Vegas was still growing. It was lawless and hungry for structure. He founded Vasiliev Holdings from nothing, and when he passed, I took over.” He pauses for a breath, eyes flicking to the horizon outside. “He always said the desert was honest. It doesn’t hide what it is. You either thrive in it or you don’t.”
 
 “Do you ever miss Russia?” I ask softly.
 
 “Sometimes,” he says, with a shrug. “But Las Vegas is my home now. The past matters, but the future matters more.”
 
 His gaze finds mine as he says it, and something in my chest stutters. The future.Ourfuture. My fingers curl and uncurl nervously in my lap. I have to tell him. As I take a deep breath, preparing myself, the waiter brings our plates, interrupting the moment.
 
 He gracefully places pan-fried garlic butter steak, golden crispy potatoes, and tender asparagus in front of us. My stomach rumbles at the delicious aroma, and Abram laughs softly.
 
 "I can see someone’s hungry," he teases. “Or should I say,hear.”
 
 I blush as I take a bite, savoring the rich, buttery flavor, an involuntary moan of appreciation escaping my lips.
 
 Abram’s gaze darkens instantly, and he leans in close over the small table, whispering, "I can’t wait to hear you moan like that again, but for me."
 
 A rush of lustful heat floods through me, momentarily scattering all coherent thoughts. My breath catches as I meet his eyes, my heart hammering. I swallow hard, excitement mingling with anxiety.
 
 He brushes his lips softly against mine before settling back in his chair, and my resolve returns, stronger. Now is definitely the moment. Even if it changes everything, Abram deserves to know.
 
 I set down my fork, taking a slow breath. "Abram, there's something I need to tell you."
 
 Concern instantly takes over his expression. "What is it?"
 
 I hesitate, swallowing the anxiety bubbling up in my throat. "I’ve been trying to find the right moment?—"
 
 He gently takes my hand again, his voice calm and steady as he says, "Whatever it is, you can tell me."
 
 My gaze searches his face, needing reassurance, finding it instantly in his expression.
 
 “Tell me,Malyshka.”
 
 CHAPTER 29
 
 ABRAM
 
 "Tell me.”
 
 Jenna looks like she’s bracing for something seismic. Her fingers twitch slightly on the tablecloth, the smile she wore a moment ago gone.
 
 I can see it in her eyes. Whatever she’s about to say is no small thing. It’s not a whim or a flirty aside. It’s serious.Life-altering.
 
 She opens her mouth then closes it. A flicker of nerves crosses her face as she looks down at her untouched wineglass.
 
 My focus narrows. The restaurant disappears. The scent of the food, the din of the other diners, the gentle clink of cutlery… it’s all gone. There’s only her.
 
 "Jenna, you can tell me anything, really.” I reach across the table and take her hand, curling mine around it.
 
 She looks up at me, those big eyes filled with what appears to be fear, but a different type. Not survival fear. Not the kind I grew up knowing. It’s much different, more like the kind of fear you feel when everything you care about hangs in the balance.
 
 I draw a breath, steadying myself. I have something to say, too. I’ve been circling it for days, maybe longer. It's not a decision, it’s a truth.
 
 I’m in love with her.
 
 And I’m going to tell her.
 
 But not now. Not yet. Whatever she needs to say comes first.
 
 She squeezes my hand and draws a deep breath. “I’m?—”