Kidnapped by the Bratva (Sharov Bratva #5)

Chapter Six - Sophia

I sit across from Jackson, the flickering candlelight casting a soft glow across the table. He’s talking—again—about his family’s business ventures, the latest deals his father secured, and how merging our families will make us unstoppable. His voice is smooth, rehearsed, like he’s given this speech a hundred times before. Maybe he has. It’s not that he’s unpleasant, but there’s something so hollow about his words, something so… disconnected.

I smile politely, nodding at the right moments, but my mind is far away. I can’t bring myself to care about the details of his business or how much money this arrangement will make for our families. The only thing I can think about is how wrong this feels—sitting here with him, pretending this is normal, pretending I’m okay with it.

The clink of his glass against the table draws me back, and I realize he’s asked me a question. Something about our future. I force another smile, one that I know doesn’t quite reach my eyes.

“Sorry,” I murmur, “I got a little lost in thought.”

Jackson grins, leaning back in his chair. “No worries. I get it. All this business talk can be a little overwhelming.” He winks, his tone light, but there’s something calculating behind his eyes. He’s not stupid—he knows I’m not fully engaged, but he’s playing the game just as much as I am.

I take a deep breath, deciding I can’t do this anymore. There’s no point in stringing him along, pretending like this is something I want. It’s not. It never has been.

“Jackson,” I begin, my voice soft but steady. His eyes shift to me, curiosity sparking behind them. “I need to be honest with you.”

He raises an eyebrow, a slow smile spreading across his face. “Go on.”

I hesitate for a second, searching for the right words. “I’m… not happy with this arrangement. This marriage proposal. I just don’t feel like it’s right for me.”

His smile falters slightly, but he doesn’t look surprised. He’s probably heard this before—some other woman telling him she’s not interested. Still, I push forward, determined to be honest.

“I don’t know you,” I continue. “Marriage is supposed to be based on love, not… business. I don’t feel that way about you. We hardly know each other.”

Jackson doesn’t react the way I expect him to. There’s no anger, no frustration. Instead, he leans forward slightly, a grin tugging at the corner of his lips. “If that’s the case,” he says smoothly, “then we’ll get to know each other. Fall in love.”

My heart sinks. He’s not listening. Or maybe he is, but he doesn’t care. To him, this is just another deal to be closed. Love isn’t even a factor, no matter how much he pretends it is. He’s determined to make this work, whether I want it or not.

I nod, even though I don’t believe him. “I’m just going to excuse myself for a minute,” I say, pushing my chair back and standing up.

“Take your time,” Jackson replies, his grin never faltering.

I walk away from the table, feeling his eyes on me as I make my way to the restroom. My heart is pounding in my chest, a tight knot forming in my stomach. As soon as I step into the small, dimly lit bathroom, I let out a shaky breath, leaning against the sink for support.

I look up, catching my reflection in the mirror. My long blonde hair falls perfectly over my shoulders, my makeup still flawless, but there’s something in my eyes that’s been there for weeks now. An exhaustion that I can’t shake. A sadness that’s settled deep inside me, like a weight I can’t lift.

I stare at myself, trying to figure out how I got here. How I ended up trapped in this situation, being forced into a marriage I don’t want, with a man I don’t even know. I thought I was stronger than this. I thought I’d be able to fight back, to tell my father that this wasn’t what I wanted. Here I am, standing in this bathroom, feeling like I’m suffocating under the weight of expectations I never asked for.

Jackson isn’t giving up. I can see that now. Whether it’s because he genuinely likes me or because this marriage benefits him and his family, it doesn’t matter. He’s not going to let this go. He’ll play the game, say the right things, make me feel like I have a choice when I don’t.

I hate it.

I hate this situation. I hate the way my life has been mapped out for me, like I’m just another pawn in my father’s endless quest for power and influence. More than anything, I hate myself for not being strong enough to fight it.

My hands grip the edge of the sink as I feel the sting of tears behind my eyes. I blink them away quickly. Crying won’t change anything. It won’t make this go away. I have to deal with it, whether I like it or not.

Taking a deep breath, I force myself to stand up straight, wiping away the emotion from my face. I can’t break now. Not here, not in front of Jackson. Not when I know he’ll just use it as another excuse to push forward.

I stare at my reflection one last time, wishing I could find some way out of this. There isn’t one. At least, not yet… not unless I really am serious about running away to Greece.

With one final breath, I push open the door and step back into the restaurant, the mask of composure firmly back in place.

The cool air hits my skin as I step back into the softly lit dining area. My heart is still pounding in my chest from the conversation with Jackson, and I feel the weight of it pressing down on me like a heavy stone. I don’t want to go back to the table. I don’t want to sit across from him and pretend like everything is okay when it isn’t.

With a deep breath, I start making my way back to my seat, my eyes focused on the floor in front of me. Just a few more hours, and this nightmare of a dinner will be over.

Suddenly, I bump into something— someone. The impact is jarring, and I stumble back slightly, my heart skipping a beat in surprise. A deep voice reaches my ears, smooth but carrying an edge.

“Are you okay?”

I look up, blinking in surprise, and my eyes meet his. He’s tall, towering over me with ease. His broad shoulders and muscular frame make him seem larger than life, and for a moment, I’m frozen, taking in the man standing before me. His skin is fair, but his dark brown eyes stand out sharply, filled with something I can’t quite place. Mystery, maybe. Or something darker. His short brown hair is neatly styled, but it’s his expression that catches me off guard—a slight grin, not unfriendly, but not exactly warm either.

For a split second, I’m not sure what to say. His presence is intense, like the air around him is charged with something I can’t put my finger on. My heart flutters uncomfortably, and I wonder why someone like him feels so familiar, so unsettling. He stands there, looking at me with that half smile, like he knows something I don’t.

His voice breaks the silence again. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

The words are polite enough, but the way his eyes linger on mine makes me feel like he’s assessing me, taking in every detail. I try to shake off the strange feeling settling in my stomach and force a smile, nodding quickly.

“I’m fine,” I say softly, my voice not quite as steady as I want it to be. I take a step back, putting a little more space between us, though it does nothing to ease the sudden tension in the air.

He watches me for a second longer, his gaze flicking over me like he’s studying me, and it makes my skin prickle. There’s something about him—something I can’t read. His expression is calm, but his eyes hide something deeper, something darker. For a brief moment, I feel like I’m standing in front of a man I should be afraid of.

“Good,” he says finally, his voice low. “Glad to hear it.”

I nod again, unsure of what else to do. My mind is racing, trying to piece together why this stranger feels so… different. His presence is commanding, and it’s like I can feel the energy radiating off him. It’s not just his height or the way he carries himself, though that’s part of it. It’s the way his eyes seem to pierce right through me, like he’s seeing something no one else does.

Without another word, I turn and walk away, my pulse still racing from the brief interaction. As I make my way back to the table where Jackson is waiting, I can’t help but glance over my shoulder once. The man is still there, watching me, his expression unreadable. The slight grin on his lips hasn’t faltered, and for reasons I can’t explain, the memory of his touch—brief as it was—lingers on my skin.

I try to push the thought away. It doesn’t matter. He doesn’t matter. I have more important things to focus on, like figuring out how to get through the rest of this evening without losing my mind. But as I sit back down across from Jackson, my mind keeps drifting back to the stranger with the dark eyes and mysterious smile. Who was he? Why did I feel like I couldn’t quite breathe when he looked at me?

Jackson is still talking when I sit down, something about his father’s latest investment. I nod along, pretending to listen, but my thoughts are miles away. My eyes keep flicking back to the spot where I bumped into that man, wondering if I’ll see him again. I don’t know why, but something about him stuck with me. He felt dangerous. Not in the obvious way, but in a way that makes me curious, even if I don’t want to be.

Jackson leans in, his voice dropping to a more intimate tone. “So, where were we?”

I smile at him, though it feels strained. “Just talking about business, I think.”

He chuckles, oblivious to my distracted state. “Ah, yes. Business.” He winks, and I feel the same emptiness I did before, the same hollow feeling that makes me want to escape this table, this conversation, this entire arrangement.

I’m trying to stay present, trying to focus on the man in front of me—the man I’m supposed to be getting to know, the one I’m supposed to eventually marry—but my mind keeps drifting back to those dark eyes and that brief, electric touch. Whoever he was, he made me feel something. Something unsettling. Something I’m not sure I like.

Jackson’s voice fades into the background as I struggle to focus on anything but that brief encounter. The stranger’s dark eyes, his intense presence—it lingers in my mind, like a puzzle I’m desperate to solve but afraid of at the same time. I catch myself glancing over my shoulder again, half expecting him to still be standing there, watching me with that unreadable expression.

He’s gone. Of course he’s gone.

I force myself to pay attention to Jackson, nodding at something he says about his father’s new deal. He’s charming in his own way, I suppose, but there’s nothing beneath the surface. His words are rehearsed, calculated. Everything feels like it’s part of a larger performance.

“Are you alright?” Jackson’s voice breaks through my thoughts. He tilts his head, studying me with mild concern. “You seem a little distracted.”

I plaster on a smile, pushing away the image of the man with the dark eyes. “I’m fine. Just a little tired.”

Jackson grins, leaning in slightly. “Well, I hope I’m not boring you too much.”

I shake my head, offering him the response he wants. “No, of course not.”

Even as I say it, I know my mind is still somewhere else.