Page 106 of Masked Seduction
I grin, warmth blossoming in my chest. “She’s got his personality too—fearless, bossy, always thinks she’s in charge.”
“Sounds like someone else I know,” Claire says, shooting me a pointed look.
I roll my eyes, but I can’t exactly deny it. “We can’t help it. It’s in our blood.”
Claire leans in close, nudging me conspiratorially. “Speaking of things in your blood, when are you and your Russian billionaire going back to that sex club? It’s been ages.”
“Oh my God, Claire,” I sputter, playfully scandalized, swatting at her arm. “It's our daughter’s birthday. I refuse to discuss kinky billionaire sex clubs right now.”
She shrugs casually, eyes sparkling with mischief. “Fine. Maybe I’ll go by myself. Who knows? Maybe I’ll find my own Abram. I’m thinking a tall, dark, morally ambiguous billionaire. Sound familiar?”
I shake my head, laughing softly. “Sorry to burst your bubble, but I’m pretty sure Abram’s one-of-a-kind.”
Claire sighs dramatically. “That’s my cue to check on the kids before your perfect romance completely ruins my day.”
I wave her off, my heart light as I watch her cross the rooftop toward the chaos of shrieking children. Vanya is orchestrating a game involving at least ten kids, directing them with miniature Abram-like intensity. I smile softly, pride swelling inside me.
Abram stands near the edge of the rooftop, flanked by Denis and Mikail. I narrow my eyes suspiciously—if those three think they're allowed to talk business at our daughter’s birthday, they have another think coming.
I rise from my seat, grabbing Abram a cold beer from the cooler. His eyes light up when he sees me approaching, and I feel a warm blush spread over my cheeks. Even after all this time, that look still does things to me.
He excuses himself from the guys and pulls me in close, his lips brushing mine. “Enjoying yourself,printsessa?”
I hum contentedly against his lips. “Yes. I’m watching our daughter boss around half the kids in Vegas while sipping sparkling water at a party you clearly had too much fun organizing. I believe I’m in heaven.”
Abram laughs, fingers brushing along my jaw. “She gets that from you, you know. The bossiness.”
“Funny,” I tease back. “Claire was just saying the same about you.”
He smiles, a soft, tender look he reserves just for Vanya and me. “She’s perfect, Jenna. Just like her mother.”
A flutter rises in my stomach—there’s a secret nestled there, one I’m desperate to share—but now isn’t quite the right time. Instead, I rest my head against his chest, breathing him in. “So, Mr. Vasiliev, think our little family is big enough yet?”
Abram pauses, considering, before his voice rumbles gently against my ear. “Our family will always be perfect, no matter the size.”
His fingers lace gently through mine, and I squeeze his hand softly, smiling to myself. Soon enough, I'll tell him, but right now, in the golden sunlight, with my daughter’s laughter echoing across the rooftop and Abram’s heartbeat steady beneath my cheek, I allow myself to simply savor the moment.
Because this right here is everything I never knew I needed.
The rest of the afternoon passes in a whirlwind of laughter, squealing kids, and Abram’s sisters hugging me goodbye so tightly I’m almost breathless. Claire pulls me into a bear hug, promising to text me later to nail down lunch plans. By the time the rooftop empties and the gentle twilight settles in, I’m blissfully exhausted.
I start to gather plates and abandoned cups scattered around the tables when Abram intercepts me, catching my wrist gently. “Don’t even think about it,” he says, his voice low and warm. “You've done enough. Leave the mess for someone else.”
I open my mouth to argue—old habits die hard—but he silences me with a slow, soft kiss that melts my protests.
“Vanya needs her bath,” I murmur against his lips, trying to regain some semblance of self-control.
Abram grins, eyes glinting mischievously. “It would be my pleasure.”
Before I can object, he sweeps Vanya up into his arms, making airplane noises as he carries her inside. Her delighted giggles trail down the hallway, and my heart swells until I’m sure it’s going to burst.
I pour myself another sparkling water and sip slowly, savoring the rare quiet as I move through our home. Everything feels peaceful, beautiful, my secret news humming softly beneath it all. Exciting, but nerve-wracking, too.
Curiosity and love draw me toward the sound of splashing from upstairs. I follow the laughter and peek discreetly around the corner of the bathroom. Abram, sleeves rolled up and kneeling beside the large tub, is creating elaborate bubble-beards on Vanya’s cheeks. She giggles helplessly, splashing him gently as he laughs, murmuring silly rhymes to her in Russian. He’s completely captivated by her, and she adores him just as fiercely.
I linger quietly, my heart aching sweetly at the sight of the man I love more than life itself being the father our daughter deserves. But anxiety nudges at me. Will he be just as thrilled this time around? Will another baby be welcomed news, or will he feel overwhelmed?
Shaking away my worries, I slip into our bedroom and change into soft pajamas, feeling nerves and anticipation twist gently in my stomach. Soon, I hear Abram’s voice whispering softly to Vanya down the hall, singing the same lullaby his mother once sang to him.
