Page 52 of Captured By the Bratva

Murphy was still trying to use her. He wanted to know where she was to track me, for starters. But what else that man wanted with her, I didn’t know. And it bothered me to no end that I couldn’t stop this thought that I was missing something.

When I arrived at the villa, checking on Emily, then Becca, as was my habit, I felt calmer.

I wouldn’t let anyone get to them. Being here felt right, and I knew that Alek was correct in some of his guesses.

My feelings about this naïve young woman weren’t the same as they were when I took her from her old life. I cared. I worried. And I was starting to get obsessed with their being in my life.

Which was why I had no scruples about ensuring I would be one step ahead of Murphy if he tried to separate Becca from me,if he tried to distance us so she would no longer be a lure for him to reveal himself.

The house was guarded. The men here wouldn’t fail me.

But those reassurances weren’t enough. They didn’t stop me from reaching for that necklace she always wore. Careful not to wake her, I pressed a tiny tab to the top line of the pendant. Having my fingers so close to her flesh was torture. I wanted to reach out and feel her warmth again.

Instead, I let the pendant rest on her flesh again, delicately so as not to wake her.

Then I stepped back, gazing at her and marveling that our paths had ever crossed.

And how intertwined they’d become.

Most of all, how I intended to keep her safe and with me for as long as possible.

20

BECCA

Ivan wasn’t home.

I rolled my eyes as I changed Emily’s post-nap diaper.

This wasn’thome. Not for him. Not for me or Emily, but for the lack of knowing what else to call this enormous party house, it was the first word that came to mind.

I’d dreamed about him last night. It was such a potent figment of my imagination that I could have sworn I smelled him too. And I wondered how long it would last.

Would he avoid me until Steven was dead?

Did he need more time to maintain his distance from me until he could come to terms with the fact that Emily was the child of Dominic Rossini?

Or was it something else altogether? I’d only had a couple of boyfriends. I never had time to date. Maybe it was something I wasn’t aware of. Some cue that I was missing as a much younger woman with an older, more experienced man.

And the experiencehehas…

I sighed, helping Emily up and carrying her out of her room to find Margie.

Ivan had tons of experience to have cultured his air of dominance. He’d no doubt slept around managing sex clubs likethat place where he’d set me up to deliver what was likely a placebo of a package to him.

Maybe he finds me lacking.

I hated to analyze and second-guess myself, but I was desperate for an answer. A reason. He’d come with me that one time. He’d cared enough to massage my wrists. He hadn’t raped me. He’d fucked me hard, but after that, he stopped making any advances.

And I wanted him to. In the absence of any time spent with him anymore, I latched on to a second chance at sex with him. With the tenacity of a fever dream, Ivan was who I fantasized about in my waking hours and who I envisioned in my sleep.

Maybe it was that bad for him.

I knew I wasn’t what he was used to. I’d never… played with someone or let someone insert anything in me. I was so vanilla that I didn’t even own a vibrator or any other sex toy.

Maybe I’m too different, too innocent and sheltered sexually for him to want me again.

“There she is!” Margie beamed at us as we entered the kitchen. The high chair was already set up for Emily’s lunch. She waved her hands and babbled in excitement.

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