Page 58 of Captured By the Bratva

“Okay. Then whatdidDominic talk about with you?”There’s got to be something useful from her time with that fucker.

Her shoulders lifted and fell. “Art.”

“You talked about art?”

How the fuck would that ever matter?Still, I had to keep trying and keep pushing. I refused to admit defeat.

“Yeah. Pretty much.”

I sighed. “Then tell me about it. Tell me about your art and whatever you remember discussing with him.”

22

BECCA

“Whatwediscussed?” I rolled my eyes. “We never discussed anything in a back-and-forth manner.” I flicked my finger between us. “It wasn’t a give-and-take conversation. Nine times out of ten, he’d lecture. And provide a lengthy explanation of his opinions. Whyhethought one style was too old and unrelatable to care about and howheplanned to acquire a variety of artists to sponsor all through Europe.”

Ivan smirked. “He does seem like the sort of man who enjoys hearing himself talk.”

I nodded. “Wait. Have you ever met him? Dom?”

“No. Not in person. I’ve, uh, dealt with plenty of other men and leaders within their organization, but Dominic travels too much. He’s hardly ever in the States.”

“That sounds about right. He was always on the go, and I was so curious what the hell he did to be so rich but never actually work.”

Because he was a Mafia Don. A member of the goddamn Italian Mob.

“He patronized me. I was so swept away by the grandeur of having someone ‘in my corner’ and seeing Europe that I was sucked in for too long.”

“Did he ever look at your art?” he asked.

I nodded. “Not much. I showed him what I had made, what I wanted to do.” A laugh bubbled inside me. “But he never once came to my studio. At first, I was embarrassed to bring him there. It’s such a small little dump. But any sponsor worth his word would’ve wanted to see where I made my artwork.” Shaking my head, I loathed the sting of the entire experience. Hindsight was a bitch like that. Looking back, I saw so many red flags that I should’ve paid attention to.

“Your studio?”

“Yeah.”

“I didn’t know you had a studio.” He furrowed his brow.

I smiled slightly. “Well, you don’t knowmethat well.”

His gaze turned hot as he looked me over. His stare was like a physical, sensual caress. Just like that, I was aroused, wanting his touch on me again.

“I followed you. To know how to best take you and keep you from Murphy’s reach.”

The way he said that seemed odd. “From Steven’s reach?” He said it like Steven was trying to do something to me or expecting something from me.

“Yeah.” He cleared his throat and stood.

I couldn’t be sure because he turned, but I thought I saw a bulge of his erection beneath his pants.

“Where’s this studio?”

“It was my grandmother’s. It’s never been in my name, and Steven never cared about it.” I stood as well, curious where he was going. Was he running off because he let an inkling of desire come to mind? Was he that repulsed by me?

“Can we go there?”

I blinked. “What? Why?”

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