Page 92 of Bratva Menace

“Yes, you did,” he said cautiously, his thumb drawing small circles into my skin, making me shiver. “But I need to hear it for myself.”

“Why? Don’t you trust me?”

He blew out a huff of annoyance. “Don’t go getting all offended.”

“Oh, but I am.” It hurt, but I snatched my hand out of his grasp. “I gave you my word that everything is okay. That your family is fine.”

“I believe you.” For some reason, I didn’t think he did. At least, not entirely. “But if you want to build any kind of relationship, I need to know my family is safe and okay before I can do that. That there’s been no repercussions for what happened. You need to give me that.”

I grumbled under my breath, sitting back and crossing my arms over my chest. Yes. I was pouting. So fucking what? Despite how much I didn’t want to, I could see his fucking point.

And it was irritating as hell.

“Fine.” I sighed, getting to my feet.

We were in the main lounge area. It was a wide-open space, filled with beautiful mahogany furniture I’d selected myself. There was dim lightning, the illumination from the fire casting a soft yellow-orange glow throughout the dark room.

Beside the L-shaped couch was a side table. I opened the drawer, and dozens of burner phones greeted me. I pulled one out. Lukyan’s eyes lit up when I made my way back to him, device in hand.

“You get five minutes,” I said, putting in the four-digit code to unlock it before handing it over. “And I want it on speaker.”

I wasn’t concerned about any information he could possibly divulge. Even if he wanted to, he couldn’t say anything compromising because he didn’t know anything. I’d been careful not to reveal anything that could give away our location.

But I’d be an idiot to let them talk alone.

Lukyan looked the phone over. “Illayana won’t answer this one. She doesn’t accept calls from unknown numbers.” Huh. Neither did I. “I need my phone.”

I winced. “Yeah, that’s not gonna happen. Sorry, baby, but I tossed that sucker the first chance I got. Everyone’s heard of the Bratva’s affinity for trackers. Couldn’t risk them using that to find you.”

His breath caught on a sigh. “Can’t really blame you on that one. I’d do the same in your position.”

“Soulmates think alike.” I winked.

He shook his head, rolling his eyes.

“Try calling her.”

He did, and like he’d predicted, she didn’t answer.

“I told you,” he said, taking the phone away from his ear.

“Try again.”

“There’s no point.”

“Yes there is. I don’t answer unknown numbers either. Nine times out of ten, they’re fucking telemarkers or scammers. But if the same number calls me repeatedly, one after the other after the other, I’m more inclined to answer it because it might be someone I know calling me from a different phone. You’re missing. I bet it will take her about the third or fourth call for her to answer. The hope that it might be you will be too great for her not to.”

His lips pursed in thought. “Okay, I can’t deny that makes a little sense.” He tried her number again and again.

“Do you know all your siblings’ numbers off by heart?” I asked as he tried for the third time.

“Yeah. That way, if my phone is ever stolen by, oh, I don’t know, a crazy woman who kidnapped me, I can call them for help without needing to look up their number,” he said, a teasing quirk at the corner of his mouth.

“Hardy, har, har.”

He threw me a wink before blowing me a kiss. I caught it and shoved it into my mouth like I was trying to eat it.

Ring-ring, ring-ring, ring-ring⁠—