Page 23 of Captured By the Bratva

His brows dipped down as he considered me. “Hurther?”

“Emily.”

“What about hurting you?”

I parted my mouth but realized the naughty retort that first came to mind wouldn’t be helpful.

Hurt me… like you did driving your dick in like that? Hurt me as in surprising me and taking me without any warning?

“What?” He lowered to grab his pants. “What was that look for?”

It was ridiculous, but a blush warmed my cheeks. “I, uh, I didn’t mind that pain.” I feebly lifted my hands to show the redness on my wrists before placing them over my lap and hiding my bare pussy that still felt so sticky and sore.

He grunted as he pulled his pants on. Maybe it was a laugh.

“Please don’t hurt Emily,” I repeated soberly, needing to secure her safety above all else. “Please don’t let anyone hurt her.”

It felt like a tall order. Begging this Mafia man to provide protection for his hostage’s baby. Who was I to even ask? He couldn’t possibly care. Rubbing my wrists was sweet and unexpected, but going out of his way to make sure Emily was okay was something else.

I remained on edge, wondering again if that call was legitimate. If Emily’s location was something someone from the Rossini outfit had to know.

“Does that call make you think she’s in danger?” he asked as he zipped up.

It was like he’d read my mind. “No? Maybe. I don’t know. But please, if you can spare my life, spare hers too. I need my daughter to grow up knowing love and the little goodness that still exists in the world. That’s all I want.”

He snorted. “I thought you agreed thatI’mthe one in charge here, that we’re going to do what I want.”

I swallowed, wondering how else I could beg. I had nothing to barter. Nothing to offer. The desperate sensation of being hopeless and powerless gutted me.

He’d distracted me from worrying about Emily. Shoving his dick into me as another attempt to shake out more intel had definitely pulled my attention away from stressing about Emily.Now that the sex was done and the afterglow had faded, my baby was at the forefront of my mind with clarity.

I watched as he paced back and forth through the room. Massaging my wrists felt good, but I couldn’t relax. He’d untied me, but I knew I wouldn’t get far if I tried to bolt for the door.

Ivan didn’t lose that terse and pensive expression as he strode to and fro. Over and over, he stalked and seemed to be deep in thought. Or surrounded with decisions to make about this situation.

He glanced at me in passing, considering me with a critical eye. “You are staying here, Becca. I can’t let you go.”

“But Emily?—”

“No. I told you. Every hostage has a purpose. Yours is to lure your father out of hiding.”

I couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled from my lips. It burst out, almost hysterical. “Steven doesn’t care about me.”

He grunted, shaking his head. “It doesn’t look like it.”

I stiffened. “What does that mean?”

“Iask the questions around here.”

Lowering my face, I sighed and wished he could see that I wasn’t trying to fight. I’d submitted. I acquiesced. I got the point. He was dominating this situation, and I wasn’t about to usurp that.

“He hasn’t reacted to the calls about your being held captive.”

I lifted my hand as though to saysee!

“But maybe he could be interested in your daughter.”

I shook my head. “Emily? No. I doubt it.”

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