Page 69 of Captured By the Bratva

“Where the fuck are you?” he demanded.

If he’s asking where she is, then he can’t be watching this place to know when I’m gone.

Something wasn’t adding up.

So, why did he call when I was gone?

I didn’t enjoy the possibility that Murphy could try to get between us.

Nothing could. I wouldn’t allow it.

Becca was the one woman for me, and we damn well would be a team against the rest of the fucking world.

26

BECCA

What do you want?I wanted to scream it. I was tempted to pick up this phone and bellow that question to Steven until he just answered me.

This was how it always happened with him.

He’d call. Make demands. And hang up.

It was infuriating and unhelpful, and with the regret about the thought that I might have overreacted at the studio, lashing out at Ivan for asking about Dom again, all I cared to do was have a conversation with him where I could apologize and explain where I was coming from.

He’d started this path. Ivan was the one to initiate something more than my being a “hostage” here and feeling like a roommate.

So it was up to me to do my part and try to make it work too.

A conversation with Ivan would’ve been easier if he had been here, but it sounded like something was going wrong with work. With the clubs. Something. I didn’t ask for details, but before he made himself scarce, he told me which clubs he’d be at or where to contact him in the city.

Another nugget of guilt came with that thought. That he was so busy because he kept driving to and from the city. I wantedto view that as a commitment, as a good thing. He wanted to be here with me. He wasn’t shoving me out of the way and locking me in this house. Every night, he came here and showed up.

It left me little energy to deal with Steven calling.

“Tell me where the fuck you are.”

I gritted my teeth, glancing up at Ivan striding in.

“Why?” I shot back. “Why the hell should I tell you anything?” I challenged.

“Because I’m your father, you ungrateful bitch. Because I’m your fucking father. You’ve never shown me any respect. You’ve never shown me any gratitude. Nothing.”

I shook my head, smirking and bottling in my rage. The audacity. This asshole thoughthehad any grounds to deserve any respect from me? Not only that, but he also felt that I owed him thanks? For what? Neglecting me my whole life? Taking my money? Expecting me to get involved in mostly illegal shenanigans so he could profit money to keep for himself?

“Newsflash, Steven. You’ve got to earn respect. And you never have.”

“No?” He chuckled darkly. “I haven’t? Who the fuck raised you?”

“Not you.”

“Who put a roof over your head?”

I fisted my hands. “Whose income went to pay for that damn roof?”

I tensed, knowing my blood pressure was sky high with another round of dealing with him. Each time he called to demand to know where I was, I worried that Ivan would suspect I was loyal to him. That by taking each call, I wanted to speak with him.

I didn’t. Never again. Since he admitted to arranging to have a thug take Emily in order to get me to comply with his need for “favors”, he was a dead man walking as far as I was concerned.

---