Page 70 of Captured By the Bratva

Ivan stood next to me, silent and watching me carefully with concern.

A glance at the phone’s attachment showed that the call was still tracing. Every time Steven called, this happened. He’d rigged it to avoid being detected.

The only reason I still answered the phone was to allow Ivan and his brothers a chance to track the asshole. Otherwise, I’d never answer. I’d never speak to him again and be perfectly fine with that.

“What do you want, Steven?” I asked hotly. “What the hell do you want from me? What’s going on?”

He growled. “I don’t answer to you. I never will. You owe me some fucking answers.”

“I don’t owe you anything.”

“I just need to know where you are so I can talk to you.”

I raised my brows. “If I gave you a location to meet up, you’d go there just to talk to me.”

Ivan watched me closely. This was the first time Steven had given me anything like a plan. Maybe this was how they could finally catch him.

“No, you stupid bitch. You’re fucking that sicko. He’d just wait there to ambush me. I want to know where you are so I can make arrangements of my own to take control.”

I shook my head. “I don’t owe you that answer.”

“You do!” he shouted. “You owe me because I am your fucking father and you should answer to me, not some stupid criminal?—”

I hung up. My finger shook with the force of how badly I wanted to smash my phone or hurl it at a wall. To break it into hundreds of pieces and never have to deal with the sound of his voice ever again.

“What’d you do that for?” Ivan asked, peeved.

I growled, dropping the phone to the table. “I can’t take him anymore. I’m sick to my stomach every time I hear him trying to order me around.”

He frowned. “But the call wasn’t traced yet.”

I huffed a laugh. “They never are. Each time he calls, it’s the same untraceable code on that device.”

“You should have tried to keep him on the line for longer.”

I shot him an angry look. “Just to subject myself to more of his verbal abuse? To listen to him rant and repeat the demands for the same thing? I haven’t told him shit, and I won’t.”

“But he might have slipped. He could’ve lost his temper or patience and mentioned something that could be a clue.”

I shook my head. “I doubt it. He’s been at this conning game for a long time now. He won’t reveal anything unless it’d help himself.”

“I beg to differ. Everyone fucks up sometime, sooner or later.”

I eyed him, wondering if he was referring to me, too. That I’d fucked up in accusing him of sleeping with me for bad reasons.

“Whatever.” I shrugged, raw and worn out from dealing with Steven to want to bicker with Ivan. Butting heads and quarreling was fine with him. It made our interactions that much more interesting and challenging. A push-and-pull balance.

But not now. I’d been so excited to see him to own up and apologize for what I said the other night, but all I wanted was to relax instead.

Live to fight another day.

“I’ve asked Margie to handle Emily tonight.”

Of all the things he could’ve said, that was the last thing I expected.

“What?”

He nodded. “You heard me.”

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