Page 48 of Captured By the Bratva

“I’ll grab it after these are in the oven.”

“She was my inspiration to become an artist.”

“Oh! That’s fantastic.”

Is it?If I hadn’t been so eager to pursue a career in the arts, I never would’ve met Dom.

But then I never would’ve had Emily, either.She was my heart and joy. I didn’t ever consider being raped a blessing, but my baby certainly was.

“It’ll be nice then when Ivan can bring you to the house with the others.”

I frowned. “The others?”

“Mila and Amy.” Margie smiled wider. “And I’m sure they’ll bombard you with questions, seeing as you’ve already had a baby.”

I wasn’t following. “Who are they?”

“Alek’s and Nik’s wives. They’re both expecting.”

“Oh.” I blinked, shaking my head at her presumption. “But I’m not… I’m just…” I laughed once. “I’m a hostage here. NotwithIvan like that or anything.”

“Maybe for now,” she teased lightheartedly.

“For good.” I couldn’t shake the horrible feeling of his just walking away from me last night after that raw and exposing story I told him.

“Nonsense. I called it with Mila. And I predicted it with Amy.” She turned to wink at me. “I’ve got a motherly intuition about those boys. I’ve seen the way Ivan looks at you. And Emily.”

“And how’s that?”He could barely face me last night when I told him I’d carried Dom’s baby.

“Like he’s one inch away from being besotted.”

I laughed harder. “Yeah,right.”

“You don’t think so?”

“No. I know so. I realize I haven’t known Ivan for long, but I highly doubt he’ll ever look at me as anything but as his hostage. For the purpose of killing my father.”

Each time I thought about it, it seemed so surreal. It was almost like I was looking forward to Steven’s death, and how messed up was that?

He’d always been a nuisance in my life, the instigator of nothing but askingfavors. I’d never wished anyone dead, but the second he admitted that he’d arranged for someone to take Emily, he was firmly on my shit list.

Fortunately, Margie understood that I didn’t want to talk about Ivan and her fanciful ideas that he and I could be together. I wouldn’t be joining the ranks of the other Valkov wives, even though it sounded like it would be nice to be included like that. I’d always wanted a sister, and having sisters-in-law would be a blessing.

Just one I’ll never have.

After the cookies were baked and we tasted a couple, she left me to my own devices while she did laundry.

I was too rested to nap, and I didn’t have much to do to tidy up, so I took advantage of Emily’s quiet and grabbed a notebook from the study. Even though the pages were lined, it was an ideal source to sketch and draw. Sculptures were my favorite medium, but something about the abundant light in this place called to me.

Seated near the huge windows that opened out to the gardens out back, I set the tip of the pencil to the paper and drew. Doodled and sketched. A few versions of landscapes filled the pages, but then I switched to more abstract images. Then rough ideas of sculptures.

I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had the freedom to just sit and be. To think and draw. To create.

Grateful to Ivan for this chance to relax and draw, I got into it, producing many pages of plans and ideas—most of which I doubted I’d ever have a chance to see to fulfillment. It’d been months since I last went to my studio, and I knew better than to hope to go there until Murphy showed up and “freed” me from being a hostage.

I wasn’t in any hurry to leave, and that was a startling concept to accept. I was happy here. Pampered. Not facing undue stress and the workaholic rate of being a single mother without many prospects.

Ivan treated me well out here, even if he couldn’t stand to be near me, and I wished that I could stay.

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