Kidnapped by the Bratva (Sharov Bratva #5)

Chapter Eleven - Maxim

The click of chess pieces echoes through the quiet room as I move my knight across the board, eyeing Timur’s side with calculated focus. He’s a decent player, not as skilled as me, but enough to make the game interesting. Artem leans against the wall, arms crossed, observing our game with mild interest. It’s a rare moment of calm, the three of us in my house, sharing a quiet evening. For now, at least, everything is going according to plan.

“You’re going to lose, Timur,” I say, a grin tugging at the corner of my mouth as I make my move.

Timur snorts, leaning forward to study the board. “We’ll see about that, Boss.” He shifts one of his pawns forward, his eyes narrowing in concentration.

Artem, who’s been watching in silence, finally speaks up. “By the way, there’s some news about Kace.”

I glance up from the chessboard, intrigued. “What is it?”

“He’s going nuts looking for Sophia,” Artem replies, a faint smirk on his face. “He has no idea where she is, and it’s driving him insane. He’s putting pressure on all his men, but they don’t have a clue.”

I chuckle, leaning back in my chair. The satisfaction of knowing Kace is spiraling is a sweet, lingering pleasure. “Good,” I say, my voice laced with amusement. “Let him squirm. It’s only the beginning.”

“He’s desperate,” Artem continues. “There’s talk he might start making reckless moves soon if he doesn’t find her. Word on the street is, he’s losing control.”

Timur shakes his head, glancing at me. “Reckless or not, Kace is still dangerous.”

“He’s not dangerous,” I counter, my tone dismissive. “He’s weak. Desperate men make mistakes, and Kace is no exception. His downfall is already in motion.”

Timur moves a bishop, leaning back in his chair with a satisfied smirk. “Check.”

I glance at the board, seeing his move but not letting it distract me. I’ve been waiting for this, the moment when Kace Preston would finally start losing everything. Taking his daughter was just the first step. Breaking him comes next.

Artem chuckles softly. “You know, I almost feel bad for him. He’s running around like a headless chicken. Almost. ”

“I don’t,” I reply coolly. “He deserves every second of it. Let him burn.”

We fall into a comfortable silence, the pieces clicking against the board as Timur contemplates his next move. Then, out of nowhere, Timur’s voice shifts, his tone more serious.

“There’s something else we need to talk about, though,” he says, glancing at me. “Don Fernando.”

The mention of the Italian Mafia boss makes me pause, my attention sharpening. I glance up at Timur, seeing the seriousness in his expression. “What about him?”

Timur leans back, his hands folded together as he speaks. “We’ve been so focused on the Americans and the smaller gangs, we didn’t pay attention to the Italians. Fernando’s growing in strength and size. Fast. He’s got a skilled labor force now, and his numbers are multiplying. They could challenge us if we’re not careful.”

Artem snorts, shaking his head. “The Italians know their place.”

Timur isn’t amused, though. His expression remains serious. “I’m not joking. Fernando’s not like the others. He’s clever. He’s been building his empire quietly, keeping out of our way, but he’s getting stronger. My sources are telling me we need to start paying attention to him before it’s too late.”

I nod, considering his words carefully. Timur has a point. Fernando has always stayed on the periphery, not causing much trouble, but that’s changing. My own sources have been whispering about his growing influence for months now. The Italians may not have been a threat before, but that’s no longer the case.

“I’ve heard the same,” I say finally, moving my queen across the board with a calculated swipe. Timur grimaces, realizing he’s about to lose. “Don Fernando’s been making moves, but he’s smart. He’s staying just out of sight, waiting for the right moment to make his play.”

Timur rubs his jaw thoughtfully. “If we don’t do something soon, he might become a bigger problem than we anticipated. He’s already poaching some of the smaller families we used to do business with.”

“That’s why we need to keep an eye on him,” I reply, my tone measured. “Let him think he’s gaining ground. When the time is right, we’ll deal with him.”

Artem shrugs. “If he steps out of line, we crush him. Simple as that.”

“Simple, but dangerous,” Timur counters, shaking his head. “We can’t afford to be reckless. Fernando’s not like Kace. He’s patient. He won’t make stupid moves.”

I nod, appreciating Timur’s insight. The last thing I want is another distraction, but ignoring Fernando could be a mistake. If he’s growing as fast as we think, we’ll need to act sooner rather than later. Still, I’m not concerned. Fernando may be smart, but the Italians don’t have the same reach or resources we do. They’ll be a challenge, but not one we can’t handle.

“Keep your eyes on him,” I order, turning my attention back to the game. “We’ll watch Fernando’s next moves, and if he becomes a problem, we’ll deal with him. No need to act just yet.”

Timur nods, though his expression remains tense. “Just be careful, Maxim. Fernando’s not to be underestimated.”

I offer him a sharp grin. “I never underestimate my enemies, Timur. I know when to strike.”

Timur sighs, moving his last piece across the board, and I checkmate him with ease. He curses under his breath, shaking his head. “Should’ve seen that coming.”

I chuckle, standing up from the table. “You’re getting better. Not good enough, though.”

Just as I’m about to sit back down, my phone buzzes in my pocket. I pull it out and glance at the screen, and immediately, a grin spreads across my face. There it is—a little red dot moving on the map, right where I expected it to be.

“Well, well,” I murmur, slipping the phone back into my pocket. “It seems our little prisoner’s on the move.”

Timur raises an eyebrow, still annoyed from his loss at chess. “Sophia?”

I nod, grinning wider. “She’s restless. Probably trying to find a way out. It’s cute, really. Like a pet trying to escape from its cage.” I shake my head and stand up, stretching my arms. “I’ve got to deal with her before she gets any bright ideas.”

Artem chuckles from his spot by the wall, his arms still crossed. “What’s she gonna do, walk right out the front door?”

I smirk. “She might try. She won’t get far. That anklet makes sure of that.”

Timur leans back in his chair, crossing his arms. “You talk about her like she’s some rebellious teenager sneaking out past curfew.”

I glance over my shoulder at him, my grin widening. “That’s because she is—at least in her head. She thinks she’s clever, that she can outsmart me.” I pause, my tone shifting to something almost mocking. “She’s not. She’s just a little girl playing in a world she doesn’t understand.”

Artem snorts. “So, what’s the plan; you want to drag her back, put her in a timeout?”

I chuckle, shaking my head. “Something like that. I think it’s time for another reminder of where she stands.” I grab my jacket from the back of the chair and throw it on. “She’s been quiet for too long, and now she’s starting to test the limits. Maybe it’s time to show her just how small those limits really are.”

Timur watches me for a moment before shaking his head, a small smirk on his lips. “You really enjoy this, don’t you?”

I pause at the door, glancing back at both of them. “What can I say? She’s a fun project.” My grin fades slightly as I turn back toward the hallway. “Make no mistake, I won’t let her become a problem. She’s useful now. When she’s not… we’ll deal with her like any other loose end.”

Artem nods. “Fair enough. Just don’t take too long, Boss. We’ve got bigger fish to fry.”

As I walk toward the door, Timur calls after me, his voice laced with amusement. “You sure you’re not getting attached to her? She’s not like the usual prisoners we deal with.”

I stop and glance back, raising an eyebrow. “Attached to her.” I let out a short laugh. “Don’t mistake my patience for something it’s not, Timur. She’s a means to an end. I’m just making sure she understands her role in this.”

“Yeah, but there’s something different about how you handle her.” Artem chimes in from his spot, his eyes watching me carefully. “You’re… enjoying it, a bit too much, maybe?”

I turn fully, my eyes narrowing slightly. “Sophia Preston is nothing more than leverage. That’s it. As long as she plays her part, she stays alive. If she steps out of line, I’ll deal with her.” My voice drops a bit, cold and sharp. “It’s strategy. She’s Kace’s Achilles’ heel.”

“Just be careful,” Timur says, leaning back in his chair with a smirk. “She might end up more trouble than you think. Women like her don’t just stay in line forever.”

I meet his gaze, my lips curling into a slow grin. “That’s the fun part, isn’t it?” I turn back toward the door, my voice dropping just loud enough for them to hear. “She thinks she has options. I’m going to remind her she doesn’t.”

The room falls silent for a moment, the weight of my words hanging in the air. Artem and Timur exchange a glance, but neither of them says anything. They know better. I’m not interested in debate. Sophia is mine to control, and I’ll handle her however I see fit.

I start down the hallway, my footsteps echoing against the hardwood floor as I make my way toward her room. The house is quiet, save for the faint ticking of the grandfather clock in the corner. Each step brings me closer to her, and the anticipation builds inside me. She’s been too quiet lately, but now she’s testing her boundaries. I expected it, of course—no one stays compliant forever. Especially not someone like her, who’s been sheltered her whole life, coddled by her father.

The thought of her trying to escape, to outsmart me, almost makes me laugh. She still doesn’t get it. She doesn’t understand that every move she makes, I’m already five steps ahead. The tracking device, the cameras, the security—there’s nowhere she can go without me knowing.