Page 53 of Captured By the Bratva

Laughing lightly, I set her in the chair and moved to the table for the salad and fruit dish Margie had arranged. I was pleased to see she’d set a plate for herself too. I could use her company to stay out of my head.

All these thoughts and wishes about Ivan had to simmer down somehow.

“I saw your notebook,” she said as she wheeled Emily closer to the table, before she took her seat.

I smiled at the book I’d sketched in. As she sat across from me, I flipped through the pages. “What’d you think?”

“Oh, they’rewonderful.”

“What about this one?” I struggled to accept compliments, and when it came to critiques about my artwork, I was extra sensitive and prone to experiencing imposter syndrome.

She leaned over, fork in the air as she looked at the page I’d stopped on. One of the rough sketches for a simple sculpture.

“It’s interesting. Makes me think of waves crashing.”

Wow.That was precisely the sentiment I’d been hoping for. It represented the current stage of my life—being a hostage to lure my father to his death and wishing I didn’t have to love a Mafia man who didn’t desire me anymore.

“How does the process work? You draw it and then—” Margie stopped speaking as my phone rang. She looked up at me, furrowing her brow as I pulled the device closer.

Dammit.It was the same number Steven had used before. Ivan had suggested I label it so I wouldn’t mistake the line of numbers as anything else. I’d almost laughed at him, ready to tell himno oneelse would be calling me. My former boss had probably dismissed me that night when I never showed up at the office again. Dominic likely deleted my number the second after he raped me. Then there was Steven.

“Ready?” the older woman asked. She was serious, pulling out her phone and ready to record the call on speaker. Just like before.

Ivan had instructed us both to record any other calls.

I nodded, hoping Iwasready. Hearing Steven’s voice was never a pleasant experience. He only called when he wanted something, and every time that happened, he was after something I wouldn’t or couldn’t give him.

“Hello.” I didn’t bother to infuse any enthusiasm into my greeting.

“Where thefuckare you?” he demanded.

I glanced at Emily, hoping she’d stay quiet and preoccupied with her food. She was, but her ever-watchful eyes were on my phone, probably alert with the man’s harsh, mean tone.

“What do you want, Steven?” I didn’t bother to reply to his question, tossing one out to him in kind.

“I want to know where you are, you stupid bitch.”

Margie pressed her lips together, not liking the treatment he gave me.

“And I’m not revealing that information.”Thank God this device Dmitri is using blocks my location.I had no doubt he’d disabled it on my phone’s settings, but I appreciated the second layer of security.

“Tell me where he is. Where is Ivan?”

I huffed, shaking my head. Holding up one hand to block Emily’s view, I lifted my other hand and showed the phone the middle finger. Margie smirked, mildly amused as she rolled her eyes.

“I’m not telling you anything.”

“You stupid whore! Tell me,” he bellowed.

Emily dropped her baby spoon. Her lips pouted as she looked at me.

No. Don’t cry.I didn’t want a distraction while Steven called. This could be the break Ivan needed. If his call could be traceable, then he was a dead man. At the same time, I hated that I was subjecting Emily to hearing such vile nastiness.

Margie beat me to comforting my baby. She silently reached over to distract her by waving her spoon and making a silly face at her until she smiled.

You are an angel.I would never forget how good Margie was with Emily, how helpful she was at making me feel comfortable no matter what happened.

“Becca, you can’t be this stupid. You have no idea what’s at stake,” he taunted.

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