Page 56 of Captured By the Bratva

“And if Becca is a part of it,” Nik said.

I frowned at him and waited for him to clarify. “She’s innocent in all of this.”

He held his hand up. “I’m not implying she isn’t. But it seems like we’re missing something.”

“I’ve felt like that ever since I took her.”

“Let me get this straight.” Maxim furrowed his brow. “Dom Rossini knocked her up and sent her home. No contact at all. And she has his kid.”

“Yeah. Then what?” Alek prompted. “What’s the connection? You think Rossini wants the baby?”

“Over my dead body,” I growled.

They all looked at me. Nik grinned. Dmitri rolled his eyes. “Another one fallen for a magical pussy.”

Nik, seated next to him, punched him hard.

“And it doesn’t seem likely,” I argued. “Why care about a bastard daughter now?”

“Besides the fact that Dom Rossini has knocked up countless women over the years,” Alek added.

“Maybe that’s why they’re so prone to infighting and killing each other. They fuck like rabbits and repopulate,” Dmitri joked.

“Have you talked to Becca again? To figure out if she knows anything else?” Nik asked.

I shook my head and sighed. “I’ve been trying to keep my distance.” Sitting forward, I rubbed my face. “I can’t stop thinking about her and wanting to—” I cut myself off, shaking my head. This wasn’t the time for sappy shit.

“Then stop fighting it,” Nik advised. “And talk to her. Even if she’s a victim, even if she’s not involved in anything, maybe she knows something without realizing its importance.”

“If she spent months in Dom’s company, even if he left her alone for most of it, she had to have noticed or heard something,” Maxim said.

I stood, knowing they were right. I hated to talk about Dom or Steven with her again. Not only did it seem like we were just repeating the same thing over and over, my questions an echo to her non-changing and limited replies, I also wanted to avoid causing her to look so sad and hurt like she had when she told me that Dom raped her.

Back at the vacation home, I sought her out as soon as I closed the front door. “Becca?”

She was already coming toward me. It seemed she was eager to reach out to me directly too.

“What is it?” Her serious expression alarmed me.

“He called again.” She lifted her old phone and the device connected to it. “But it still didn’t trace. I’m sorry.”

I nodded, taking it and also grabbing her hand. The contact of her smaller fingers alongside mine teased me, but I resisted the urge to hold her closer. This call had to come first, and I wanted her to stay with me as I listened to it. “Where’s Emily?” I asked as I led Becca to my room.

“With Margie. Finger paints in the kitchen.”

Good.I didn’t want any interruptions.

In my room, I gestured for her to sit in a chair near the fireplace that waited empty and cold for the far-off winter months. I paced, playing the recording she’d sent to herself from Margie’s phone. It wasn’t the most high-tech solution, but it worked. I wanted to avoid bringing too many men out here to improve it. I already worried that my coming and going here would be a weakness for Murphy or anyone else to notice. I didn’t need more men in and out of here for anyone to try to break in or even know that we were here.

Walking back and forth through my room, I listened to the call. Over and over. I replayed it, filing all of Steven’s angry words to memory.

Becca sat stiffly, frowning at the empty fireplace until I felt confident I would remember it all.

“He’s such a despicable bastard,” she muttered.

“You’re not stupid.”

She rolled her eyes. “I don’t care what he said about me. I know I’m not dumb. He’s called me names and tried to belittle me my whole life.”

---