Masked Seduction: EPILOGUE II

Two years later…

Sunlight pours down, warming my shoulders as I lean back against the lounger, letting my gaze drift lazily over the party.

The rooftop is a dream, our own private oasis perched high above the city. The sun glints off the sparkling blue pool, and the garden planters lining the edge are in full bloom, spilling over with bougainvillea and lavender.

The breeze carries a hint of jasmine, mixed with the faint smell of sunscreen and frosted cake. Beyond the high glass railing, Vegas stretches out in every direction—hazy mountains off in the distance, glittering hotels and casinos below. It still takes my breath away, even after all this time.

But today, our oasis has been transformed. Balloons sway gently, tied to the railings in soft rainbow hues, enough pastel frosting around to give a dentist nightmares for weeks. Abram went overboard as usual, turning this already-stunning rooftop into a storybook party scene—unicorn decor everywhere, from the bounce house to the glittering cake topper. It’s outrageous. It’s adorable. And it’s perfect.

I catch sight of Vanya, her silky black curls bouncing as she races past, giggling wildly with her cousins. Those ice-blue eyes—the exact same shade as Abram’s—light up with pure, unfiltered joy as she blows past, her little feet moving with the confidence of someone who knows just how adored she is.

Watching her now, I’m struck again by the disbelief that this perfect little human came from us.

Beside me, Claire laughs, taking a sip of her mojito. “She gets prettier every time I see her. I’d say she takes after her mother, but damn, those eyes of hers are all Abram.”

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.

I crawl into our bed, heart racing a little faster when Abram finally appears, eyes full of warmth as he closes the door gently behind him. His gaze turns molten as he catches sight of me, and heat pools low in my belly at his blatant appreciation. He wastes no time stripping away his clothes, revealing his perfect, muscled body—hard and ready.

He slides into bed next to me, a low growl rumbling from his chest as he draws me close, his fingertips skimming the small of my back. I lick my lips, my body responding instantly, but then I remember the news I need to share.

“I have to tell you something.”

He pauses, his lips against my neck, breathing softly. “Can it wait? Because the way you looked at me when I walked in⁠—”

I smile teasingly, pulling back just enough to meet his hungry gaze. Slowly, I slip from the bed and stand in front of him, my fingers inching beneath the edge of my pajama top. Abram watches, utterly mesmerized, as I shed my clothes piece by piece, baring myself to him until nothing remains but my panties.

“Do you want to hear my secret?” I ask softly, hooking my thumbs beneath the waistband and sliding them down.

He nods distractedly, eyes trailing over my body, filled with heat and barely restrained desire.

“I’m pregnant.”

The words hang in the air between us. Abram’s eyes snap upward, locking onto mine, shock swiftly melting into overwhelming happiness. His grin widens, radiant and boyish, and then he’s leaping from the bed, laughing with a joy that fills every corner of the room.

He sweeps me up into his strong arms, spinning me around until I laugh breathlessly. His hands cup my face tenderly, his lips brushing softly across my forehead, my cheeks, my lips.

Abram sinks gently to one knee, his eyes filled with awe as he presses soft kisses to my belly. His arms wrap around me, holding me close, warm and protective. I thread my fingers through his hair, my heart so full it almost hurts.

Abram gazes up at me, his voice thick with emotion. “You’re amazing, Jenna. I didn’t think my life could get any better, but every day with you and Vanya proves me wrong.”

My heart squeezes and I bend, capturing his lips in a tender, lingering kiss. “I love you,” I whisper against his mouth.

“I love you too. Always.”

He stays kneeling, broad shoulders framed by dim lamplight, lips brushing a slow, reverent path across my abdomen.

“You’re sure?” he asks.

I laugh. “Positive.” My fingers cup his face. “Doctor confirmed. You, sir, are absurdly potent.”

“Let me show you just how potent.”

“I’d love nothing more.”

A deep, primal growl rumbles from Abram’s chest, raw and hungry, vibrating through me and setting my skin ablaze. He stands and crashes his mouth against mine, the kiss starting soft but erupting into a desperate clash of lips, tongues, and teeth.

We settle onto the mattress, his body heat a searing wave that consumes me. I sink back into the silken sheets, my nerves sparking as liquid fire surges through my veins, pooling hot and heavy in my pussy, my skin flushed and tingling.

He pulls back and looks at me. His eyes, dark as a storm at midnight, bore into mine with raw, animalistic need. “Tell me if I’m too much.”

“Too much? Never,” I purr, my voice thick with want.

My fingers seize his wrist, guiding his rough hand to my cheek, his calloused fingertips grazing my jaw. Slowly, I drag his touch down my throat, over the swell of my breasts, and along the curve of my hips, my body arching to meet his touch, a blatant invitation for him to take me apart.

Abram moves like a man possessed, each caress branding me with heat. His lips blaze a trail of wet, open-mouthed kisses, nipping the sharp edge of my collarbone, sucking lightly at the tender underside of my breast. My nipple tightens under his hot breath, his teeth grazing just enough to make me gasp. His stubble scrapes my flesh, a rough contrast to the slick heat of his tongue, leaving my body humming with electric need.

A moan tears from my throat as his hand cups my breast, his thumb circling my hardened nipple with slow, deliberate strokes, each pass sending bolts of pleasure straight to my clit. My back bows, pressing my chest into his grip, my thighs clenching as my pussy throbs, slick and aching.

My breaths come in shaky pants, my pulse hammering as he tunes every touch to my body’s rhythm, knowing exactly when my craving tips into raw, desperate need.

“Still with me, baby?” His voice is a low, sultry sound, his lips brushing the shell of my ear, his breath hot and teasing.

“Always,” I gasp, the word fracturing as his fingers slide lower to find my pussy, dripping and ready. His touch is relentless, fingers circling my clit with agonizing precision before dipping inside, curling against the spot that makes my hips buck wildly.

Pleasure crashes through me, a blinding, pulsing wave that shatters me. I clench around his fingers as I cry out, my body trembling through the white-hot aftershocks. Abram holds me through it, his thumb brushing my parted lips as I shudder, the heat ebbing slow and molten. Then, with a possessive grip, he rolls me onto his lap, my body still pulsing with need.

I revel in the shift, straddling his hips, my thighs spreading wide as his hands clamp onto my ass, fingers digging into the soft flesh. Moonlight spills across his bare chest, glinting off the hard lines of muscle, the faint scars etched into his skin, and the inked eagle spread over his heart, fierce and proud.

His cock, thick and hard, presses against my inner thigh, and his eyes, molten with lust, track every move as I guide him to my entrance, my pussy slick and aching for him. I sink down slowly, savoring the stretch as he fills me inch by torturous inch, until he’s buried deep, a low groan tearing from his throat.

The world narrows to two racing heartbeats, two bodies locked together, one shadowed room. Our breaths tangle, hot and ragged, his growls vibrating against my skin as I ride him, my hips rolling in a slow, deliberate grind. My hands brace on his shoulders, nails biting into his flesh, his cock hitting every sensitive spot inside me with each thrust.

His fingers grip my hips, guiding my rhythm, his jaw tight as he fights to hold back. His gaze burns into mine, dark and feral, but soon softened by a flicker of devotion that makes my chest ache.

When the release hits, it’s a tidal wave, raw and all-consuming, my walls clenching tight around his cock as pleasure soars through me, my moans echoing throughout the room. He follows, my name on his lips as he spills inside me, hot and pulsing.

We collapse together, laughter spilling between us as we tangle in the sweat-damp sheets, trading slow kisses, our bodies pressed close as our heartbeats slow.

He draws me against his chest, palm protective over my belly. “You make me better,” he murmurs into my hair. “Stronger and gentler all at once.”

“I was thinking the same about you,” I manage through lingering bliss.

A comfortable silence follows. Then Abram shifts, clearing his throat in that the nervous way I’ve learned means he’s plotting something. He slips from the bed and crosses to his dresser. I prop myself on an elbow, admiring the view.

He returns holding a small, midnight-blue box. My heartbeat trips.

“Abram…”

He sits on the edge of the bed, suddenly solemn. “I wanted to do this at Vanya’s party, but toddlers and cake aren’t conducive to speeches.” A wry smile tugs at his mouth. He opens the box. Inside sits a cushion-cut diamond, glittering like captured starlight.

My breath catches.

“I have my empire,” he says quietly, “but none of it matters without you. Marry me, Jenna Ridley. Build a family, a life with me, another empire of our own.”

The answer bursts out before I even register it. “Yes! Of course, yes!” My voice cracks on the last word.

He exhales and slides the ring onto my finger. It settles as if it’s always belonged there. Tears blur the look of the gem until it’s a rainbow.

We kiss—slow, grateful, lovingly. When we part, I rest my forehead against his. “Claire joked I’d snag a billionaire at a sex club,” I whisper, half laughing, half awed. “She might have been onto something.”

Abram chuckles. “That reminds me… how do you feel about revisiting The 13th Floor? Masks, private room, a little nostalgia before pregnancy cravings hijack our nights?”

A wicked thrill sparks. “One condition: you wear the same black mask. Then afterward, we get a hotel room and order every dessert on room service.”

“Done.” He brushes a strand of hair from my cheek. “Anything my fiancée desires.”

Fiancée. The word hums through me like newfound electricity. I glance toward the window where Vegas shimmers. A familiar skyline, but tonight it looks different. Brighter.

He follows my gaze, threading his fingers with mine. “City of sin and secrets,” he says softly. “But it gave me you. I’ll never curse it again.”

“And it gave us Vanya.” I squeeze his hand. “And now…” I rest my palm over the pulse of new life. “There’s so much more coming.”

Thunder rolls faintly beyond the glass, a summer storm sweeping the valley. Inside our penthouse, everything is calm—warm lamplight, joined hands, the distant sound of our daughter’s soft breathing through the baby monitor.

“I promise,” Abram whispers, voice fierce yet tender, “no one will ever threaten this family again.”

I believe him completely. Because the man who was once a storm has become my shelter. And together we’ll face whatever rises, armed with love stronger than fear, and a future bright enough to outshine the Strip itself.

I lean into him, the ring catching the light in tiny starbursts. A fitting reminder that every ending can blaze like a new beginning.

And this is only page one of the life ahead.