Page 12 of Captured By the Bratva

I bit the inside of my lower lip to remain as still as possible, keeping my gaze unwavering and locked on his.

You won’t break me.

He smirked, taunting me to wonder what could make him lose that rein on this stare-down.

“I’ll get my answers one way or the other.”

Die trying, asshole.

“After all, every hostage has their purpose.”

Turning to leave, he let me consider his parting words.

Hostage?

My heart raced even faster as the implications of his intentions sank in.

With all those questions about Steven. The thoughts that my father was hiding and being more secretive than ever, worrying about his “cover” so much that he’d asked me to handle a favor for him.

He had to be staying down low for a reason, and Ivan wanted to hold me captive to lure him out.

A pawn. I was taken to be a pawn, but the joke was on him.

Steven didn’t care about me. Only himself.

The man who fathered me didn’t care whether I lived or died.

I stared at the door, zoning out as worry flooded me all over again, and I wondered when Ivan would realize the same thing—how dispensable I really was.

5

IVAN

Becca didn’t tell me anything. The sight of her tight-lipped, stubborn, and angry with her sizzling green gaze on me like that…

I paced in the hallway outside the room I’d locked her in. Back and forth, I walked out this instant lust that she’d lit within me.

My dick ached, straining under my pants. I breathed fast, riled up with desire and a potent hit of needing to fuck that defiant woman hard and fast.

To make her bend.

To make her talk.

I wasn’t bluffing. Iwouldget my answers out of her. I wouldn’t fail. But I had to step back, away where I could inhale and not notice her fresh, innocent scent. Apart from her so I wouldn’t be drawn further under the spell to want her so badly.

Her pushing back was my kryptonite. Her tough exterior and pretending to be ballsy with a silent treatment and cold shoulder made me want her more.

I would get my answers.

She was a hostage, and she had a purpose here.

That purpose wasn’t for my pleasure. She wasn’t a subbie looking for a firm lover. She wasn’t a guest at any of the clubs, seeking a good time.

She was a hostage, to be kept as a bait that should make Murphy reveal himself. And then I could take him down.

Heaving out a final deep breath, I glowered at the closed door. Behind that wooden panel was my enemy’s daughter, an innocent woman who wouldn’t ever understand the depth of my desire, the darkness of my kinks. Becca was bound in there not for a good fuck, but to serve as a way of pulling her father out of hiding.

Or will she?

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