Page 46 of Captured By the Bratva

He doesn’t say anything immediately but takes a seat, watching me as I bring the plate over. As he takes his first bite, I search his face for any reaction, holding my breath.

A rare, genuine smile breaks through his reserved expression, and he nods. “Not bad, Cathy,” he says, his tone teasing but warm. “Anya’s been teaching you well.”

I let out a relieved laugh. “Good to know I didn’t butcher one of your favorite dishes,” I reply, taking my seat across from him. “It took a few tries to get them right. Anya was thorough.”

“She’s not one for shortcuts,” he agrees, his voice softer, as if remembering something from long ago. “My mother made these, always by hand.” He pauses, setting down his fork. “She’d say that you had to be patient and careful, or they’d fall apart. She had a way of making every small thing feel important.”

As we finish the meal, I notice Ivan clearing the plates and, before I can react, he’s pouring a fresh cup of coffee.

“Here,” he says, setting it in front of me. “Two sugars, a dash of cream—exactly how you like it.”

I stare at the cup, surprised. “How did you know that?”

He raises an eyebrow. “I pay attention,” he replies simply, a hint of amusement in his eyes. “Besides, you have a habit of glancing at me like I’ve committed a warcrime when the coffee’s too bitter.”

I laugh, shaking my head. “Maybe because it is a warcrime.”

A comfortable silence falls between us as I sip the coffee. It’s perfect, as if he’s memorized every detail of how I prefer it.

“What’s your favorite part about cooking?” I ask suddenly, curious to hear more of this side of him.

He thinks for a moment, then answers, “The process. It’s precise, structured yet there’s room for creativity. There’s a satisfaction in creating something from nothing.”

I nod, understanding more than he knows. “It’s kind of like life, I guess. A bit messy, with room to make mistakes,” I say softly. “But worth it if you get it right.”

He looks at me for a long moment, something thoughtful flickering in his eyes. “I suppose so.”

Nik appears in the doorway. “A word?” he asks.

Ivan gets to his feet. “Forgive me.” He heads outside. I hear the low hum of their voices drifting through the closed door. A name catches my ear—Jimmy. My heart lurches, and I instinctively move closer to the door, holding my breath as I listen.

“He was gone by the time we got through the security measures,” Ivan says, his voice cool but unmistakably frustrated. “Just like the last place.

“He’s moving too fast, probably getting tipped off. But he’s slipping, Nik. He owes way too much money, and the noose is tightening. Don Bianchi wants his money back and Jimmy’s getting desperate.”

Nik grunts in agreement. “You think he’ll come here for her? Walk into the trap?”

“He’s desperate, borrowing money from every mobster he can find,” Ivan replies. “Running out of places to go. She’s his last shot at clearing his debts. He’s got to make a move sooner or later.”

My mind races. I knew Ivan was hunting him, pressuring anyone who might know his whereabouts. But what is Jimmy doing?

Ivan’s voice softens slightly, and I hear him add, “What if he clears the debt some other way?”

“Easier to steal her inheritance if he steals her first,” Nik says, a hard edge to his tone. “If she didn’t have a claim to her dad’s money, Jimmy would have lost interest in her way before now. He can’t keep his dick out of any available pussy, that one. He’ll come for her, trust me.”

“I want revenge for what he did,” Ivan says, his voice dropping. “My patience is wearing thin.”

There’s a pause, a heaviness in the silence before Nik responds. “He needs a marriage certificate to take control of her inheritance.”

“I know that. What’s your point?”

“My points is he can’t get that while you’re married to her.”

Ivan grunts. “That’s the whole point. Make him want to kill me so he can marry her. That brings him out from whatever rock he’s hiding under. Kill me, marry her, claim the lot, kill her. Only I’ll get the cunt when he comes here to claim her.”

The floor seems to tilt beneath me as the truth sinks in. I press my back to the wall, feeling the cold seep through me.

My hands tremble, and I clasp them tightly to steady myself. Jimmy was only after my money, money I never even knew existed. And then he planned to kill me?

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