Page 16 of Captured By the Bratva

He’d put me on the spot because I’d gone silent and uncooperative on him. He’d played that nasty, wicked game withme, taunting me with an object like that in such a filthy way, all to get me to talk.

What did he want? I told him that I didn’t associate with Steven. I didn’t know anything about the Rossinis other than what a lying, manipulative asshole Dominic Rossini was as he led me on to think I was worth something, that my art was valuable enough to be sponsored.

Yet he had to go so far as to violate me and make me feel so…

No. Stop.He wasn’t getting anything from me. Not the submission he wanted, not like that, dammit.

Tears stung my eyes as I shoved my legs through my clothes roughly and quickly, wishing for more and more layers to hide behind. Tempted to grab the blanket and wrap it around me like a shield, I paced in the room. Hugging myself didn’t make an impact. As long as I was here, strips of fabric still tied around my wrists, behind this locked door, I was stuck and not going anywhere until he thought I was no longer useful as a hostage or a pawn in whatever vendetta he had against Steven.

Tense and confused, not to mention strained from coming so close to coming in the most unexpected and forbidden way possible, I paced and worried, fretted and freaked out, slowly and silently.

What was going to happen? What would he do with me? Was he here because of my father’s plans? Because I was the mother of a Rossini baby?

Before I could let the unanswered questions flood me and overwhelm me to the point of anxious hysteria, the lock on the door clicked.

I spun, facing the door as it was pushed open. My heart raced, lodged in my throat. My lungs strained to bring in air fast enough. The immediate spike of fear that pierced through me dizzied me, but all I could do was lean one hand on thebed. Keeping the bed between myself and the door, I tensed and waited.

Ivan didn’t come alone. Another rugged man accompanied him, and at the first glance, I noticed the familial resemblance. A brother? Cousin? Whoever he was, he looked just as dangerous as Ivan, muscled and packing a gun, a cold, stern, glowering expression with cautious eyes.

He checked me out, a blunt once-over like he was assessing me as a threat or a risk to handle efficiently. His regard didn’t intimidate me like Ivan’s did. This newcomer didn’t eye me with blunt interest like Ivan had. Ivan once again roved his smoldering stare up and down me, his lips kicked up on one side like he was amused. Humored.

Is he thinking about what he did to me?

Is he imagining what I looked like?

Is he?—

I stood up straighter, determined to stay strong, both against him and his buddy and my own stupid thoughts. It hardly mattered what he thought. His opinions couldn’t matter. What he’d done was wrong. Tying me up. Removing my clothes. Sticking… anything inside me like that.

Humiliation mixed with awful regret, but I realized it was a conscious action to get so wet and turned on, eager to come then. My body betrayed me. My pussy ached, and I was a puppet to the magic of desire.

Still, I hated that he’d been able to play me like that, fine-tuned toward how to get me to surrender so quickly.

Ivan wasn’t a man to trust, not at all. So I made sure to watch him closer than this other man. I vowed to never lower my guard again, even if hope was futile with him in charge and dominating the situation.

“Where is it?” the other man asked. He lifted his hand to me, and I furrowed my brow. I didn’t have a clue what he thought I might have on me.

“I took it when I transported her.” Ivan held out my phone. At the sight of the old-model device, I clenched my teeth. Seeing it in his hands proved that I wouldn’t have a chance to call for help, but even if I could, I didn’t know who to call. 911 was an obvious option, but with Steven affiliated and employed by the NYPD, I couldn’t chance the dispatcher somehow getting him involved. If Ivan was so determined to find out intel about Steven, I bet the man coming here wouldn’t be good.

“The passcode.” The other man accepted the phone and paired his firm request with an arched brow of expectation.

I swallowed.

“She’s been giving me the silent treatment, Dmitri,” Ivan dryly stated, as though I was a troublesome child due for a scolding.

“The passcode,” Dmitri repeated.

I zoned out, staring at my phone. I didn’t give a shit what they wanted to look at on there. I had nothing to hide.

Except Emily.

Pictures were saved in a folder that I used to download onto my laptop. I took far too many of them when the device’s battery was sufficient. It was such an old phone that I never had enough space to save many images. The ones that I had on there were no doubt all of the adorably chunky baby I so adored.

I couldn’t risk them finding her. I had to protect her at all costs, and if this whole thing had something to do with the Rossini Family, I had to take every precaution to keep my baby from them.

Dmitri sighed, glancing at Ivan.

He looked at me nonplussed as he tilted his head to the side. “What are you hiding?”

---