Kidnapped by the Bratva (Sharov Bratva #5)

Chapter Eight - Sophia

The afternoon sun blazes overhead as I drive along the highway, the windows of my car rolled down to let in the breeze. It’s a clear day, perfect for a gym session to blow off some steam. I need it. Everything lately has been too much—my father’s constant pressure, Jackson’s unbearable presence, and that lingering feeling of being trapped. I grip the steering wheel a little tighter, trying to shake off the frustration gnawing at me.

Suddenly, the car jerks forward, sputtering as the engine makes a strange grinding noise. My heart sinks as the car slows down, the dashboard lighting up like a Christmas tree. I press on the gas, but nothing happens. No response.

“Seriously?” I mutter under my breath, pulling the car over to the shoulder. I shift into park and kill the engine, glaring at the dashboard like it’s personally offended me. With a sigh, I pop the hood and step out of the car, the heat from the pavement hitting me immediately.

I stare at the engine, hands on my hips. I have absolutely no idea what I’m looking at. The inner workings of a car might as well be a foreign language to me. I lean over slightly, as if that’ll somehow help me figure it out, but the tangled mess of metal and wires just leaves me feeling more lost.

“Okay, what now?” I mutter to myself. I could call a tow truck, but I don’t fancy waiting for hours.

I pull out my phone, quickly typing in car shuts down on highway into the search bar, hoping YouTube has a miracle video for moments like this. As I scroll through the results, a car slows to a stop behind mine.

I glance over my shoulder, suddenly aware that I’m alone on the side of a busy highway. A man steps out of the car— a tall, broad-shouldered figure with an air of casual confidence. He’s wearing a simple T-shirt and jeans, nothing that screams danger, and his face is open, friendly even. His dark hair is neatly cropped, and he moves with an ease that suggests he’s done this kind of thing before.

“Need some help?” His voice is deep but warm, not the least bit intimidating. He approaches with his hands raised slightly, as if to reassure me that he’s not here to cause trouble.

I hesitate for a second, glancing from him to my car. Something about him puts me at ease, though. Maybe it’s the way he smiles or the way he keeps his distance, waiting for me to respond.

“Yeah, actually,” I say, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear. “The car just shut down. I have no idea what’s wrong with it.”

He nods, glancing at the car’s open hood. “Mind if I take a look?”

“Please,” I reply, stepping aside to give him room. “I was just about to try a YouTube tutorial, but… yeah, not really my area of expertise.”

He chuckles softly, the sound low and comforting. “YouTube’s good for a lot of things, but cars? Maybe not so much.” He steps closer to the engine, peering inside like he’s done this a hundred times before. “I’m Artem, by the way.”

“Sophia,” I say, offering him a small smile. There’s something about his presence that feels solid, dependable. Not like Jackson, whose charm always feels rehearsed. Artem seems real.

He starts fiddling with a few parts under the hood, his hands moving with practiced precision. “Sounds like it could be an issue with the alternator. Either that, or maybe a battery problem. Did you notice anything weird before the car shut down? Flickering lights, strange sounds?”

I shake my head, leaning against the side of the car. “No, nothing like that. It just… stopped. One second it was fine, and the next, it was dead.”

“Happens sometimes,” Artem says, nodding to himself. “Don’t worry, it’s probably not too serious. I can help you get it sorted out.”

I watch as he works, feeling oddly reassured by his calm demeanor. There’s something about him that feels different from most men I’ve met. Maybe it’s his quiet confidence, or the fact that he’s not trying to make small talk or impress me. He’s just helping, without any expectations.

“You seem to know a lot about cars,” I say, trying to keep the conversation light.

“I’ve been around them a lot,” he replies, glancing up at me with a small grin. “You pick up a few things over time.”

I nod, watching him as he continues to work. There’s something about the way he moves—so sure of himself, so comfortable in his own skin. It’s… refreshing.

“Thanks for stopping,” I add after a moment. “I wasn’t sure what I was going to do.”

“No problem,” Artem says, his voice calm. “You’re lucky I came by when I did. Could’ve been stuck out here for a while.”

As he leans in closer to the engine, checking something under the hood, I find myself relaxing a little more. It’s strange how easy it is to talk to him, how normal this feels, even though we’re complete strangers. Maybe it’s because he doesn’t seem to have any agenda—he’s just here to help, and that’s it.

After everything going on in my life lately, the simple kindness of a stranger is a relief.

Artem straightens up from under the hood and wipes his hands again on the rag from his back pocket. His gaze turns thoughtful, as if he’s processing something unexpected. “It’s strange,” he mutters, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Someone did this on purpose.”

I blink, caught off guard by the shift in his tone. “What do you mean?”

He glances at me, then back at the engine, pointing to some exposed wires. “The car didn’t just break down. The wires were deliberately tampered with. Whoever did this wanted you stranded.”

I take a step back, feeling a chill creep up my spine despite the heat of the afternoon. “Why would anyone do that?”

Artem shuts the hood of the car with a decisive thud, wiping his hands one more time as he turns to face me fully. His expression shifts again, growing more serious. “It’s like they wanted your car to break down in the middle of nowhere… where you’d be alone.”

My heart starts to race, the sense of relief I’d felt only moments ago completely evaporating. The idea of someone deliberately sabotaging my car doesn’t make any sense—why would anyone target me? I’m not some important person with enemies. I swallow hard, trying to calm myself as I look at him.

“That doesn’t make sense. I don’t have anyone who would—” I stop myself, glancing around nervously, the emptiness of the highway suddenly feeling much more isolating.

Artem takes a step toward me, his expression softening as if he’s trying to reassure me. “I’m sure you’re confused,” he says, his voice low and calm. “Trust me. Whoever did this… they wanted access to you. Alone.”

It takes a moment for his words to sink in, and when they do, my heart drops into my stomach. There’s something in his voice that’s different now. Something cold and calculating. I stare at him, the realization dawning far too late. This wasn’t just a coincidence. This was planned. My breath catches, and I take a step back, but his eyes follow my every move. That once comforting smile is gone, replaced with a grin that chills me to my core.

He steps closer, his voice dropping to a quiet murmur. “They wanted you vulnerable, Sophia.”

My blood runs cold as I process the situation. He’s not some helpful stranger. He’s the one who did this. He’s the reason my car broke down. Now I’m alone with him.

Without thinking, I turn on my heel, ready to run, my heart pounding in my chest. I don’t get far. His hand shoots out, gripping my arm tightly before I can take another step. I try to pull away, but he’s too strong, his fingers like iron bands around my wrist.

“Let go!” I shout, panic surging through me. I yank at my arm, my pulse skyrocketing as I twist and turn, desperate to break free. His grin widens, and that’s when I see it—the needle in his other hand, glinting in the sunlight.

“No!” I scream again, but before I can do anything, I feel a sharp prick at the side of my neck. The sting is brief, but the effects are immediate. Warmth spreads through my veins, slow and insidious, and my limbs start to feel heavy.

I struggle, trying to push him away, trying to move, but it’s like my body isn’t responding. My legs buckle, and I reach out to steady myself, but there’s nothing to hold on to. My vision starts to blur, the world tilting dangerously. I’m losing control.

“What… what are you doing?” My voice is barely a whisper, the words slurring together as I try to fight the darkness creeping in.

Artem’s face hovers above me, his grin still in place, though now it looks more like a predator’s smile. Cold. Calculating. “It’ll be over soon, Sophia,” he says, his voice distant, like it’s coming from the other end of a tunnel. “Just relax. You’re not going to remember any of this.”

I try to scream again, to thrash, to fight, but my body is failing me. The warmth spreads faster, dragging me down into a thick fog. My knees give out, and I collapse into his arms. The world spins, the sounds around me growing fainter, distant. I can hear my heartbeat, pounding erratically in my ears, but even that begins to fade, drowned out by the thick blanket of unconsciousness.

I reach out, my fingers barely brushing the gravel beneath me as I slip further into the darkness. Artem’s grip tightens as he lowers me to the ground, his voice now nothing more than a murmur as he says something I can’t fully hear.

The last thing I see before everything goes black is his face, calm and unmoved, as if this was just another day. Just another task. Then, there’s nothing. No sound, no light. Just silence.