The Billionaire's Forsaken Wife

ROOSEVELT'S POV

The rich smell of rosemary and sizzling butter filled the dining room, but I couldn't bring myself to take a bite. My focus was entirely on the man sitting across from me, Zyran.

The soft light from the chandelier reflected off his raven-black hair, perfectly styled even after a long day at work. He had taken off his suit jacket, and the sleeves of his white shirt were rolled up to his elbows, revealing strong, veined forearms that flexed slightly as he cut into his steak. He looked like a masterpiece crafted by a god, sharp jawline, high cheekbones, and lips that typically formed a firm line.

He was breathtaking, he was powerful and he was mine.

Today was our fourth wedding anniversary. Usually, Zyran would have his assistant send a gift, a diamond necklace or a designer bag, and we would go about our separate lives. But this year, I had asked for something different. I wanted time. Just a cozy dinner at home, cooked by me.

Despite his busy schedule running an empire that covered half the globe, Zyran had actually agreed. He came home early. That small gesture made my heart flutter like a trapped bird.

I chose to sit directly across from him instead of at the head of the table. I wanted to see every change in his expression, every flicker in those dark, guarded eyes when I finally shared the news that threatened to burst out.

My hand moved subconsciously to my flat stomach beneath the silk of my dress.

I'm pregnant.

I found out just this morning. The two pink lines on the test felt like the answer to every prayer I had whispered in the dark for the last four years. Zyran was distant, yes. He was cold, and sometimes looking at him felt like staring at a beautiful ice sculpture that I couldn't touch. But a baby? A baby changes everything. A child would be the bridge to finally reach his heart, the warmth that could melt his icy exterior.

"You're staring, Roosevelt," Zyran's deep voice broke through my thoughts, surprising me.

I blinked rapidly, feeling warmth rise to my cheeks. I hadn't realized I was zoning out.

"I... I was just happy," I stammered, picking up my wine glass to occupy my trembling hands. I took a sip of water instead of the wine, reminding myself that I had to avoid alcohol now. "It's nice to have you here. Just us."

Zyran didn't look up right away. He took another bite of the meal I had spent three hours preparing-pan-seared wagyu with a truffle reduction. I held my breath. I wasn't a professional chef, I was an interior designer. I spent my days arranging furniture, not sweating over a hot stove. But tonight, I wanted everything to be perfect.

He chewed slowly, swallowed, and finally lifted his gaze to meet mine.

"The steak is excellent," he said calmly. "Better than the chef at that fancy bistro we went