Kidnapped by the Bratva (Sharov Bratva #5)

Chapter Two - Sophia

I stand in front of the mirror, smoothing down the soft fabric of the dress that hugs my frame just right. It’s modest, simple, but it feels elegant enough for tonight’s event. The soft lavender color complements my skin tone, and I’ve spent extra time getting my makeup perfect—subtle, but enough to highlight my brown eyes. My long blonde hair cascades down my back in gentle waves, the way my father likes it.

It’s one of those rare nights when I allow myself to feel a little special.

A faint smile plays on my lips as I turn slightly, giving myself one last look before heading downstairs. My heels click softly against the polished floor, the sound growing louder as I approach the grand staircase. I catch a glimpse of my father, Kace, waiting at the bottom with his usual proud expression. His eyes light up when he sees me, and there’s something in that look that makes me feel… cherished.

“Beautiful, as always,” he says, his voice warm and full of affection.

I smile back, feeling a warmth rise in my chest. “You spoil me too much,” I tease lightly as I reach the last step.

Kisten, my father’s right-hand man and someone I’ve known since childhood, stands beside him, watching with that familiar, protective glint in his eye. He’s like an uncle to me, always there, always loyal.

“He’s right,” Kisten says with a grin. “You look stunning, Sophia. If you keep looking this good, we’ll need to fend off more proposals.”

I roll my eyes dramatically, though a smile tugs at my lips. “Please, spare me the matchmaking tonight.”

Kisten chuckles, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “You say that now, but there’ll be more soon. Believe me, they’re lining up.”

I shake my head, walking over to them both. “Lining up for a business deal more than anything else,” I mutter under my breath. Arranged marriages, proposals from powerful families—none of it ever felt real to me. Who wants to be tied to someone just for the sake of power and politics?

My father stays quiet on the subject, as he always does, his protective nature showing in the silence. He’s never pushed me toward any of the proposals, and for that, I’m thankful. I know I’m lucky in that sense. He wants what’s best for me, but he never forces my hand. Not when it comes to something as personal as marriage.

“Let’s get going,” Kace says, glancing at his watch. “We don’t want to be late.”

We head out, stepping into the sleek black car waiting in the driveway. The night feels heavy with anticipation, the wedding we’re attending looming over me in a way that stirs emotions I try not to think about too often.

By the time we arrive at the grand venue, the celebration is in full swing. The warm glow of chandeliers lights up the room, casting a romantic glow over everything. It’s beautiful, really. A fairy tale in its own right, with the bride and groom standing at the center of it all, their smiles so bright it’s almost infectious. Everyone’s dressed in their finest, clinking glasses, laughing, dancing.

I feel a twinge in my chest, watching the bride as she glides across the dance floor with her new husband. There’s something about weddings that always gets to me. The romance of it, the idea of two people choosing each other, not because of power or influence, but because they want each other.

I’ve been to countless weddings, most of them like this—arranged, strategic marriages between powerful families. I understand the necessity of it, but the thought of being paired with someone I barely know, someone I have no real connection with, makes me shudder. I don’t want that. I want the kind of love that sweeps you off your feet, that makes you feel like you’ve found your other half.

I want a wedding, yes, but not like this. Not with someone who sees me as a prize, as a piece of some political puzzle. I want someone who looks at me like I’m more than just Kace Preston’s daughter.

As I sit at the long table, surrounded by family and acquaintances, I find myself drifting into those thoughts again. The idea of falling in love—real love—feels distant, almost impossible in the world I come from. I still cling to it, even if it feels like a childish dream.

Someday, I’ll find the man who sees me for who I am, not just the daughter of a Mafia boss. Someone who makes me feel safe, loved… chosen.

I watch the bride and groom take another spin across the floor, their hands clasped tight, smiles lighting up their faces. A soft sigh escapes my lips as I turn back to my drink, letting the bittersweet thought settle in my chest.

Someday.

I step out onto the lawn, the cool evening breeze offering a welcome relief from the crowded room. My friend Jennifer stands beside me, adjusting the hem of her dress as we watch more guests arrive in sleek cars, their laughter and chatter floating across the garden.

“They really went all out for this one,” Jennifer says, taking a sip from her champagne glass. “I swear, every wedding we attend is more over the top than the last.”

I nod, my gaze following the line of guests as they make their way inside. “It’s like a competition at this point. Who can throw the grandest wedding with the most powerful guests.”

Jennifer chuckles, but her expression softens as she looks back toward the ballroom. “Still… it’s nice, isn’t it? Seeing them so happy together.”

I follow her gaze and spot the bride and groom inside, wrapped up in each other’s arms, completely oblivious to the world around them. They’re sharing a quiet moment, talking and laughing softly, and for a second, I feel a pang of something—longing, maybe—stirring in my chest.

“They’re so in love,” I murmur, smiling despite myself. “I was going to congratulate them, but I don’t want to disturb them. They deserve to enjoy tonight without interruption.”

Jennifer gives me a knowing look. “You think their honeymoon phase will ever wear off?”

I laugh. The bride is practically glowing, and the groom… well, he looks at her like she’s the only person in the world. They’re completely obsessed with each other.

“They’ve been in the honeymoon phase since forever,” I say, shaking my head with a grin. “It’ll never wear off.”

Jennifer raises an eyebrow. “It’s cute, though.”

“Yeah,” I reply. “There’s something about the way they look at each other… it’s different. It’s not just love; it’s like they’ve chosen each other in a way that’s unbreakable.”

We both fall into a comfortable silence, watching as the last of the guests trickle inside. I glance over at the bride and groom again, still lost in their own world, and feel a sense of peace wash over me. As much as I dream about finding something like that, I know it will happen in its own time. No rush.

“Come on,” Jennifer says, nudging me gently. “Let’s head back in before they think we’re avoiding the party.”

I take one last look at the happy couple before nodding, turning toward the ballroom with a soft smile on my lips.

As Jennifer and I make our way back toward the ballroom, I catch sight of my father standing near the grand entrance, engaged in conversation with a man I vaguely recognize. Mr. Miller—one of my father’s business associates. They’ve worked together for years, though I can’t recall meeting him in person before. His son stands beside him, tall and polished, exuding the same aura of wealth and power that seems to float around his father.

I feel my father’s eyes on me, and with a slight motion of his head, he beckons me over. I sigh softly, giving Jennifer a small nod before making my way toward them. There’s no escaping these introductions. It’s all part of the package that comes with being Kace Preston’s daughter.

As I approach, Mr. Miller’s attention shifts to me, his smile widening. He looks every bit the successful businessman, with a tailored suit and sharp eyes that glitter with interest. “Ah, Sophia,” he says warmly. “It’s been years since I last saw you. You’ve grown into quite the young lady.”

So, I have met him before.

I offer him a polite smile, though my guard is already up. My father has a way of introducing me to people with a purpose—whether it’s business, alliances, or something more personal—and I can’t help but wonder what this is about.

Mr. Miller gestures toward the young man standing beside him. “This is my son, Jackson. I don’t believe you’ve met before.”

Jackson steps forward, offering me a charming smile, though there’s something about it that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. He’s handsome, in a conventional sort of way—tall, athletic, with dark hair neatly styled and a jawline that looks like it’s been sculpted. His suit is perfectly tailored, and everything about him screams wealth and privilege.

“Nice to meet you, Sophia,” Jackson says smoothly, taking my hand for a brief, formal shake. His grip is firm, but his eyes linger too long on me, and not in a way that feels respectful. I catch him glancing at my chest for just a second too long before meeting my eyes again.

A flicker of discomfort runs through me, but I mask it with a polite smile, slipping my hand away from his. “Nice to meet you too, Jackson.”

As we exchange pleasantries, I can’t help but feel his eyes on me, wandering in ways that make my skin crawl. It’s subtle, but not subtle enough for me to miss. His gaze keeps dropping lower, tracing the neckline of my dress, even as he speaks about something completely mundane. I know this type—charming on the surface but arrogant underneath, the kind of man who’s used to getting whatever he wants.

My father and Mr. Miller continue their conversation, laughing about some business deal they’ve been discussing, completely oblivious to the discomfort building inside me. Jackson, meanwhile, leans in slightly, lowering his voice as he speaks.

“So, Sophia,” he says, his eyes still flicking between my face and my body, “how does it feel being the daughter of such a powerful man? I bet you’re used to everyone doing whatever you say.”

I raise an eyebrow, not sure whether to laugh or recoil. “I wouldn’t say that,” I reply, keeping my tone light but distant. “Power isn’t everything.”

Jackson smirks, clearly not picking up on my discomfort—or choosing to ignore it. “Maybe not, but it sure makes life easier, doesn’t it?”

His words rub me the wrong way, but it’s the way he’s looking at me that bothers me most. There’s a sense of entitlement in his gaze, like he thinks I’m just another prize to be won. My patience wears thin as the conversation continues, and I find myself glancing at my father, wondering how long I’ll have to endure this introduction.

Kace, noticing my subtle shift, finally steps in. “Sophia, Jackson is considering taking over more of his father’s business. I thought it would be good for you two to meet. We’ll be seeing more of the Millers in the future.”

I nod politely, though inside, I’m bristling at the implication. The unspoken hint that this introduction might be about more than business, that perhaps there’s a future my father envisions here. My stomach tightens at the thought, and I resist the urge to roll my eyes.

Jackson’s smile widens, clearly enjoying my father’s approval. “Yes, we’ll be spending more time together, I’m sure. Maybe we can get together sometime. Just the two of us?”

I force a smile, though it feels more like a grimace. “I’m pretty busy these days.”

He chuckles, as if I’m playing hard to get. “Come on, don’t make it sound like a chore. I promise, I’m fun.”

I nod slightly, keeping my tone polite but firm. “I’m sure you are, but like I said, I have a lot on my plate.”

Before he can press further, I turn to my father. “If you’ll excuse me, I think I’m going to find Jennifer. I promised her I’d help with something.” It’s a flimsy excuse, but I don’t care. I need to get away from Jackson and his wandering eyes.

My father nods, his eyes softening a little as he looks at me. “Of course, Sophia. Go ahead.”

Mr. Miller gives me a polite nod, and Jackson, still smirking, watches me with an unsettling intensity as I turn and walk away. I can feel his eyes on me the entire time, and I don’t breathe a sigh of relief until I’m back on the lawn, far from the suffocating presence of both Jackson and whatever expectations my father might have for me.

As I step outside, the cool air hits my skin, calming the storm of emotions brewing inside me. I glance back at the grand venue, at the glittering guests and perfect couples, and feel that familiar tension settle in my chest.

The life my father has built for me is beautiful on the surface, but there’s always something lurking beneath—deals, expectations, and people like Jackson, who only see me as part of the power my family wields. I refuse to let myself be reduced to a chess piece in someone else’s game.