20. Becca

20

BECCA

I van wasn’t home.

I rolled my eyes as I changed Emily’s post-nap diaper.

This wasn’t home . Not for him. Not for me or Emily, but for the lack of knowing what else to call this enormous party house, it was the first word that came to mind.

I’d dreamed about him last night. It was such a potent figment of my imagination that I could have sworn I smelled him too. And I wondered how long it would last.

Would he avoid me until Steven was dead?

Did he need more time to maintain his distance from me until he could come to terms with the fact that Emily was the child of Dominic Rossini?

Or was it something else altogether? I’d only had a couple of boyfriends. I never had time to date. Maybe it was something I wasn’t aware of. Some cue that I was missing as a much younger woman with an older, more experienced man.

And the experience he has…

I sighed, helping Emily up and carrying her out of her room to find Margie.

Ivan had tons of experience to have cultured his air of dominance. He’d no doubt slept around managing sex clubs like that place where he’d set me up to deliver what was likely a placebo of a package to him.

Maybe he finds me lacking.

I hated to analyze and second-guess myself, but I was desperate for an answer. A reason. He’d come with me that one time. He’d cared enough to massage my wrists. He hadn’t raped me. He’d fucked me hard, but after that, he stopped making any advances.

And I wanted him to. In the absence of any time spent with him anymore, I latched on to a second chance at sex with him. With the tenacity of a fever dream, Ivan was who I fantasized about in my waking hours and who I envisioned in my sleep.

Maybe it was that bad for him.

I knew I wasn’t what he was used to. I’d never… played with someone or let someone insert anything in me. I was so vanilla that I didn’t even own a vibrator or any other sex toy.

Maybe I’m too different, too innocent and sheltered sexually for him to want me again.

“There she is!” Margie beamed at us as we entered the kitchen. The high chair was already set up for Emily’s lunch. She waved her hands and babbled in excitement.

Laughing lightly, I set her in the chair and moved to the table for the salad and fruit dish Margie had arranged. I was pleased to see she’d set a plate for herself too. I could use her company to stay out of my head.

All these thoughts and wishes about Ivan had to simmer down somehow.

“I saw your notebook,” she said as she wheeled Emily closer to the table, before she took her seat.

I smiled at the book I’d sketched in. As she sat across from me, I flipped through the pages. “What’d you think?”

“Oh, they’re wonderful .”

“What about this one?” I struggled to accept compliments, and when it came to critiques about my artwork, I was extra sensitive and prone to experiencing imposter syndrome.

She leaned over, fork in the air as she looked at the page I’d stopped on. One of the rough sketches for a simple sculpture.

“It’s interesting. Makes me think of waves crashing.”

Wow. That was precisely the sentiment I’d been hoping for. It represented the current stage of my life—being a hostage to lure my father to his death and wishing I didn’t have to love a Mafia man who didn’t desire me anymore.

“How does the process work? You draw it and then—” Margie stopped speaking as my phone rang. She looked up at me, furrowing her brow as I pulled the device closer.

Dammit. It was the same number Steven had used before. Ivan had suggested I label it so I wouldn’t mistake the line of numbers as anything else. I’d almost laughed at him, ready to tell him no one else would be calling me. My former boss had probably dismissed me that night when I never showed up at the office again. Dominic likely deleted my number the second after he raped me. Then there was Steven.

“Ready?” the older woman asked. She was serious, pulling out her phone and ready to record the call on speaker. Just like before.

Ivan had instructed us both to record any other calls.

I nodded, hoping I was ready. Hearing Steven’s voice was never a pleasant experience. He only called when he wanted something, and every time that happened, he was after something I wouldn’t or couldn’t give him.

“Hello.” I didn’t bother to infuse any enthusiasm into my greeting.

“Where the fuck are you?” he demanded.

I glanced at Emily, hoping she’d stay quiet and preoccupied with her food. She was, but her ever-watchful eyes were on my phone, probably alert with the man’s harsh, mean tone.

“What do you want, Steven?” I didn’t bother to reply to his question, tossing one out to him in kind.

“I want to know where you are, you stupid bitch.”

Margie pressed her lips together, not liking the treatment he gave me.

“And I’m not revealing that information.” Thank God this device Dmitri is using blocks my location. I had no doubt he’d disabled it on my phone’s settings, but I appreciated the second layer of security.

“Tell me where he is. Where is Ivan?”

I huffed, shaking my head. Holding up one hand to block Emily’s view, I lifted my other hand and showed the phone the middle finger. Margie smirked, mildly amused as she rolled her eyes.

“I’m not telling you anything.”

“You stupid whore! Tell me,” he bellowed.

Emily dropped her baby spoon. Her lips pouted as she looked at me.

No. Don’t cry. I didn’t want a distraction while Steven called. This could be the break Ivan needed. If his call could be traceable, then he was a dead man. At the same time, I hated that I was subjecting Emily to hearing such vile nastiness.

Margie beat me to comforting my baby. She silently reached over to distract her by waving her spoon and making a silly face at her until she smiled.

You are an angel. I would never forget how good Margie was with Emily, how helpful she was at making me feel comfortable no matter what happened.

“Becca, you can’t be this stupid. You have no idea what’s at stake,” he taunted.

I crossed my arms, staring at the call on speaker. “Then tell me. What is at stake, Steven?”

He snorted. “Stop being difficult.”

I shook my head.

“Don’t be such a gullible idiot and think you’re better off siding with them.”

Biting my lip, I watched Margie make Emily smile wider, pretending the spoon was a mute airplane.

“You’re not,” Steven said. “Do you even know what kind of a sicko Ivan Valkov is? Do you?”

He’s a better man than you’ll ever be.

“Do you know what you’re doing by siding with those criminals?”

Ensuring my safety. The world will be a better place without you in it.

“He’s a ruthless, violent man, Becca. He’ll chew you up and spit you out like you’re nothing.”

I stayed silent.

“Because you are nothing!” His temper rose as his faint patience fell. “You hear me? You are nothing but a traitorous fucking bitch, a stupid whore to think you’d be better off siding with the Bratva. You are dead to me. Do you understand?”

No. I narrowed my eyes. You are. And soon, you will literally be dead by Ivan’s hands.

“See if I give a shit,” I retorted.

He growled.

“See if I give a damn about anything you say.”

“I know what I’m talking about.”

I fisted my hand. “I don’t care! All you’ve ever wanted to do is use me.”

“What the fuck do you think he’s doing? Huh?” He raised his voice even louder. “He’s only using you too.”

To lure you out. And arguing with him, letting my emotions and anger get the better of me, wasn’t helping.

“You’re missing one difference there. He’s not an abusive asshole like you.”

“He’s not?” Steven scoffed. “He’s a sadistic freak who manages countless sex clubs in the city. He’s a fucking meathead who tortures his enemies before he lets them die. And you want to be a dumb bitch and think he’s some hero you can count on?”

“It’s a lot better than ever counting on you.”

He screamed, then hung up.

Once the call was done, Margie pressed the button on her phone to stop recording. “Oh, Becca…”

I covered my face, drawing in a steady breath. “I screwed that up.”

“What? No.” She took my free hand, and I looked up.

“Ivan told us to be prepared to record it, and we did. He said the longer we keep him on the phone, they might be able to trace the call.”

I smirked. I knew that. But I’d lost my temper and prompted him to hang up well before the length of time Dmitri had advised me to stay on for.

“I’m supposed to be bait,” I told her. “Ivan is holding me hostage to make Steven come out of hiding.”

She furrowed her brow, staring at me with sadness and rubbing the top of my hand.

“But it’s not working. Steven doesn’t care that I’m here. He just wants to know where Ivan is. I’m not serving any purpose as bait of any kind.”

“No, that can’t be true.”

I sighed. “It is. Ivan captured me to hope that Steven would want to get me away from here. He clearly knows I’m with Ivan somewhere already, and it’s not prompting him to reveal himself.”

“It will all work out.”

I swallowed hard, hating the idea that struck me. “But if I have no purpose here, Ivan will just… let me go.”

“No.” Margie shook her head firmly. “I don’t see that happening. I can’t begin to claim I know how these brothers work, how they operate. They are always looking at the best angles to solving a problem, keeping on top of threats and potential issues. I am certain this… mission against Steven is more complicated than you or I can realize, but I do not think you are correct about Ivan dismissing you.”

It’d become my biggest fear. Risking more honestly, I blinked back tears. “I don’t want to. I don’t want him to dismiss me anymore. I want him to see me, to want me to stay and…”

Emily knocked over her bowl from the high chair tray, and it jarred me from spilling my heart out to her. I already felt so raw from Steven’s call. This confusion about what was happening didn’t help. As I hurried to clean up the mess, Margie used a damp kitchen towel to wipe at her messy face, soothing her with soft words.

At the sink, she draped her arm around me and sighed.

“It will all work out as it should, Becca. I believe that.”

I looked at her, hopeful yet skeptical. “You believe that Ivan would want to keep a woman like me?”

Her smile was slow but sure. “Yes.”

From the bottom of my heart, I hoped so. I truly, earnestly wished that Ivan could show me mutual affection. If he stayed here long enough to just talk to me, to give me a chance to let him know that I was developing feelings for him, I’d lay my heart out to him and hope for the best.

“He would be a fool not to want you forever,” Margie added.

“I’m so different.” I shook my head. “Never mind the fact that my father is the enemy he wants to kill and my baby is the child of another of his enemies, I’m not like Ivan at all.”

She crossed her arms. “How so?”

Embarrassment crept up my spine. “Well, he’s at those sex clubs and used to, uh, stuff, and I’m pretty sheltered in that department.”

“Bah.” She dismissed me with a wave. “You can learn to compromise. He can teach you what he likes.”

Oh, God. I felt so silly talking about this with her. She’d come to resemble a motherly figure, and it was strange chatting about sex with her.

“You’re hardly the first person to be initiated into the Bratva. I was. Mila was. Amy was. Countless others have been brought into the Valkov Family for so many reasons. They are good men.” She nodded, turning to the dishes in the sink. “They are lovable men, capable of loving the right women, too.”

That’s just it. How can I be the right woman for him?

“They fight hard. They work hard. And they love hard. From what I’ve seen, you are more than enough of a woman to make Ivan Valkov proud.”

I smiled as I turned to Emily, praying this housekeeper angel was right.

And I looked forward to the first chance I might have to prove it to Ivan.