Page 41 of Captured By the Bratva

As Becca paced with Emily, soothing the teething baby, I mulled over all that his call signified. Murphy was aware thatIhad Becca. Why else would he have asked in that call where I was? The crooked cop knew that she was with me, that Emily was with us too.

I fisted my hand then released my shoulders, wishing that clench would vent out some of my anger. The thought that Murphy had set up Emily’s being taken just to interfere with her captivity… It pissed me off to no end. How could any man have the audacity to set up his infant granddaughter to be a token in this war?

He’d tried to use Emily as a way to get to Becca. To me. And I would not stand for that. His call revealed a critical clue that I wouldn’t soon forget.

Knowing where Becca was had to be Murphy’s attempt to track me. To know where his enemy lurked.

This was all a game of cat and mouse.

And I was fine with that.

I could manage the pressure because Murphy would not win this game. He would not slip away, nor would he harm Emily or Becca ever again.

What I couldn’t manage was how Becca went quiet at any mention of Dominic Rossini. It didn’t sit well with me how she continued to pace and not answer my question about him. She’d referenced Murphy scaring off boyfriends. Banking on the assumption that Dominic had been a boyfriend of hers, I wasn’t happy with her silence.

She wasn’t repeating that silent treatment crap. This was different. Her showing me the recording of that call was the opposite effect of a silent treatment or withholding information.

So, why does she go quiet and look uncomfortable?

I stood, sighing as I left her to handle Emily. Without another word, I left to pour myself a drink in the other room, needing a moment to think without the distraction of her beauty so near. Distance hadn’t helped me yet, but I tried to pick through the options of whatever could be at play here. That spike of jealousy wouldn’t fade, but when I reentered the room that Emily slept in, I hoped the alcohol would counter my rising temper.

Becca didn’t flinch when I returned. She merely carried Emily, swaying slightly like the baby enjoyed. Each move of her hips taunted me, and I wished I could get over this aching desire for her.

“What aren’t you telling me about Dom?” I asked, carefully but firmly. I didn’t want to enter a shouting match and argue to the point of bothering Emily. I felt bad to “use” the baby as an excuse to ensure a civil conversation, but I’d do whatever was necessary.

“Dominic wasn’t a boyfriend, Ivan.”

I sipped then shook my head. “Your starting with that disclaimer leads me to believe otherwise.” Almost like someone would start with a plea ofDon’t get mad, but…

Her shoulders slumped.

“Start at the beginning.”

She turned, walking with Emily. “I first heard of Dominic through someone at school. I never had a chance to go to college. No money. My grades weren’t good enough.” She shrugged. “To get anywhere in the art crowd, you have to study with the right people and earn a rub-off of their clout. You have to mingle and socialize and rub elbows with other artists or sponsors to even get anyone to know your name. I never had time for that. Since I was sixteen, I’ve been working one, if not two jobs to put food on the table.”

“For Murphy too?”

She rolled her eyes. “He gambled. He owed debts. He operated with favors and still does. Every penny I earned, he saw as his. He’d blow it on drugs or booze. Or try to pay off someone for a better investment. I learned to hide as much as I could so I could simply survive.”

She’s not kidding about no lost love there.

“I never wanted to give up my dreams, though. My grandmother, my mother’s mother, had a studio in the city, and since it was paid for through a friend of hers, the small space was something he couldn’t touch. He never wanted it, anyway. So it was there I could keep up with my hobby when I ever had free time. When I went to a gallery opening for a friend, I saw Dominic there. He was curious about my name, saying I looked like someone he knew. He recognized me through Steven, and once I admitted that he was my father, he got very interested in me.”

I let her walk and mull in her silence again. It seemed like she was searching for the right words, picking through her memories, and she continued speaking again.

“At first, I was too excited that a rich man like him was even talking to me. He was charming. Knowledgeable about art. Meeting him seemed too good to be true, but I was so enthusiastic for someone—anyone—to pay attention to me and my art. I was suckered instantly. I looked him up that night, and I realized he was an influential, well-off man. I never realized he was in the Mafia. I only looked for his art ties. So, when he offered to sponsor me and show me to galleries in Europe, of course, I said yes.”

“You just up and left? Traveled with him?”

I nodded. “I’d just finished my lease for the apartment I had at that time. I was sick of my jobs, and they were dime-a-dozen gigs, anyway. For the first time, I thought why not? Maybe this would be my big break. I traveled with him, like a friend. I always had separate lodgings, and most of the time, I was alone. He had ‘business’ to do. He was often on the phone or meeting with people. I didn’t care. I was just so excited to be in Europe. I saw all the museums. Spent lots of time in galleries. With my sketchbooks, I prepared to make so much artwork, assuming this was it, that I’d be an artist, and not a starving one with a man like Dominic Rossini interested in what I could make.”

I rubbed my lip with my finger, watching her open up. “Then what?”

“Then, a few months after I’d been with him, I realized he’d been manipulating me just to keep an eye on what my father was up to.”

“Did you ever ask Murphy how or why he knew Dominic?”

She shook her head. “I didn’t speak with Steven since I met Dominic. My father had never given a shit about my art. Never will. I didn’t want to tarnish my time or associationwith Dominic by bringing my father into anything. He was so negative, so cruel and dismissive, I wanted to believe that Dominic could almost replace my father’s significance in my life. I felt that Dom could be the man who’d look out for me. Who’d want me.”

---