Kidnapped by the Bratva (Sharov Bratva #5)

Chapter Thirteen - Maxim

I can’t stop thinking about Sophia. No matter how much I try to focus, her image keeps slipping into my mind, like an itch I can’t scratch. She’s Kace’s daughter, the one person I should be keeping at arm’s length—nothing more than a pawn in my game.

Every time I picture her, the attraction gnaws at me. There’s something about her that pulls me in, something I can’t quite put my finger on. I remember the delicious moan that dripped from her lips, when she didn’t know I was listening. Even now, it makes me shiver.

It’s not just the sounds she makes, or the fear in her eyes, the way her lips trembled when she asked if I was going to kill her. It’s more than that. The way her body tensed under my touch, the spark of chemistry that flared between us. The memory of it plays in my mind over and over, like a melody I can’t forget. I want to make her moan again, only this time, I want to be the one causing it. I shouldn’t feel this way, not about her.

The more I try to ignore it, the more it lingers.

“Maxim, you’re zoning out,” Artem says, snapping me back to reality. We’re headed to a social event, one of the many where power and money exchange hands under the guise of civility. I adjust my jacket and step out of the car, clearing my thoughts. Tonight is business, nothing more. The last thing I need is to let distractions get in the way.

The venue is grand, with high ceilings and glittering chandeliers, filled with the usual faces—men who run the underworld, all dressed in their finest, pretending to enjoy themselves while they calculate their next moves. Artem and I make our way through the crowd, exchanging polite nods with familiar faces.

It doesn’t take long before we spot him—Don Fernando. He’s standing near the bar, exuding calm confidence, his sharp suit tailored perfectly to his frame. He’s not just any Mafia boss; he’s smart, calculated, and ambitious. Fernando is one of the few men who could be a real problem if left unchecked. Now, with the Italians growing in power, he’s someone I need to keep an eye on.

“Maxim Sharov,” Fernando greets, his voice smooth, carrying the weight of someone who knows his influence. He extends his hand, and I shake it firmly.

“Don Fernando,” I reply, keeping my tone respectful, but guarded.

“It’s good to finally meet you,” he says, a smile playing on his lips. “I’ve heard much about you.”

“And I, you,” I respond, careful to maintain the balance between pleasantries and caution.

Fernando’s eyes gleam with a quiet intelligence as he glances around the room. “It’s interesting, don’t you think? How our paths are always parallel, yet we never quite cross… until now.”

I raise an eyebrow, intrigued by his subtle approach. “We’ve always had… different priorities.”

“Perhaps,” Fernando agrees, his smile widening. “That doesn’t mean our priorities can’t align. The Russians and Italians have a long history of competition. Maybe it’s time we explored something more… mutually beneficial.”

I nod, considering his words. He’s not wrong. The Italians have been strengthening their foothold, and with the Americans growing more desperate, there’s potential for a shift in power. “It’s possible,” I say carefully. “As long as our interests are protected.”

Fernando chuckles softly, sipping his drink. “Of course, Maxim. It’s always about protecting what’s ours. But I think we both know that working together could bring more opportunities than working apart.”

Before I can respond, my attention is drawn to a familiar face in the corner of the room. Kace Preston. He’s standing near the wall, pale-faced and clearly tense, his eyes darting around like a man on the verge of collapse. The sight of him almost makes me laugh. He’s barely holding it together.

Fernando follows my gaze, and a faint smirk touches his lips. “Ah, Kace. I’ve heard he’s been… under some stress lately.”

I don’t say anything, but my grin widens. Under stress doesn’t even begin to cover it.

“I also heard something unfortunate happened to his daughter,” Fernando continues, his tone casual, as if we’re discussing the weather. “Too bad. She seemed like an innocent girl.”

I don’t respond immediately, my mind flashing to Sophia again. Her innocence won’t save her, not in this game. Still, the way Fernando mentions it, like she’s a side note in Kace’s story, rubs me the wrong way. She’s more than just collateral damage. At least, that’s what I keep telling myself.

“Such is life in our world,” I say finally, my voice flat, masking the thoughts swirling inside me.

Fernando nods, his smile never faltering. “Indeed. Well, I must attend to other matters. It was a pleasure, Maxim. Let’s stay in touch.”

He excuses himself, leaving me standing there with Artem. I glance back at Kace, who’s staring at nothing, his face pale and his hands clenched tightly around his glass. He’s crumbling, and it’s only a matter of time before he completely falls apart.

Artem watches Kace for a moment, then turns to me with a raised eyebrow. “He looks like he’s seen a ghost.”

“More like he knows he’s being haunted,” I reply, still grinning. “He’s losing control, and he knows it.”

“His daughter?” Artem asks, his voice low.

I glance at him, my grin fading slightly. “He knows nothing of our involvement.”

As much as I want to focus on the downfall of Kace Preston, I can’t help but think of Sophia. The way she looked at me, the way she trembled under my touch, the way I keep wanting more of her.

It’s dangerous. It’s reckless. Damn it, I want her.

“Let’s keep an eye on him,” I say, my voice firm as I tear my gaze away from Kace. “His desperation will lead him to make mistakes. Now, let’s see if we can’t stir the pot a bit.”

I approach Kace slowly, weaving through the crowd with purpose. His back is turned to me, but I can sense the tension radiating off him like a furnace. He’s trying to play it cool, but I know better. Kace Preston is unraveling, and all I need to do is pull one last thread.

“Preston,” I say, my voice low but firm as I step beside him.

He tenses, his grip tightening on his glass. Slowly, he turns to face me, and for a moment, we just stare at each other. His face is pale, his jaw clenched, but it’s his eyes that give him away. Fear. Anger. Desperation. He’s a man hanging by a thread, and he knows it.

“Sharov,” he replies, his voice forced, strained. “What do you want?”

I smile, leaning in slightly so only he can hear me. “I think you already know the answer to that.”

Kace’s expression hardens, but there’s a flicker of something in his eyes—realization. He knows what’s coming, and yet he doesn’t want to believe it. Doesn’t want to face it.

“I heard about Sophia. Such a shame,” I say, letting the name hang in the air between us, watching as his face twists with a mix of shock and fury. His hand twitches, and for a second, I think he might actually lunge at me. The thought amuses me. He’s powerless here, and he knows it.

“You… you have her,” Kace says through gritted teeth, his voice low and dangerous.

I shrug, my grin widening. “Now, why would I do that?”

His fury boils over. “You son of a—”

Before he can finish, I raise a hand, cutting him off sharply. “Ah, ah, ah,” I warn, my voice cold. “If you want her alive, then shut up and listen.”

Kace freezes, his body rigid, but I can see the fear creeping in behind his anger. He knows I’m not bluffing. The tension in his face tightens as he stares at me, clearly fighting to control himself. He’s scared—scared for Sophia, scared for his own weakness.

“Now,” I continue, keeping my voice low and calm, “you’re going to gather a certain amount of money. Enough to buy her freedom. You get that money, and we’ll talk. It’s simple.” I glance around, keeping my smile in place. “In exchange for Sophia, of course.”

Kace’s hands tremble, the glass in his grip shaking slightly. He swallows hard, his face pale as he struggles to keep control. “How much?”

I lean closer, my grin never faltering. “Ten million.”

His eyes widen slightly. “Ten million? That’s—”

“Not up for negotiation,” I interrupt. “You get the money, or you never see her again. Let me be clear, Preston—if you even think about trying something stupid, she’ll pay the price for it.”

I let that sink in, watching as Kace processes the words, his anger and desperation warring with each other. For a moment, he seems like he might explode, but then he swallows it down, his face tightening with barely concealed rage.

“I’ll get the money,” he finally says, his voice shaking slightly. “Just don’t hurt her. Please. I’ll do whatever you want, just… don’t hurt her.”

I chuckle softly, enjoying his desperation. It’s almost too easy. “She’s fine… for now. It all depends on you, Kace. How much you value your little girl.”

His eyes flash with anger, but he’s too scared to act on it. He knows he can’t afford to lose control right now.

“Why are you doing this?” he demands, his voice a mix of anger and confusion. “What do you want from me?”

I tilt my head, pretending to think about it for a moment. “Revenge,” I say finally, letting the word roll off my tongue with satisfaction. “This is about more than just money, Preston. You should know that by now.”

His face tightens, and I can see the question forming on his lips, but I don’t give him the chance to ask it. I’ve said enough for now.

“Ten million,” I repeat, my voice low and firm. “I’ll be in touch.”

Without waiting for a response, I turn and walk away, leaving him standing there, stunned and seething. The weight of what just happened hangs in the air, and I can feel his eyes burning into my back as I make my way through the crowd. The power shift is palpable, and I relish it.

Artem falls into step beside me, his expression unreadable as he glances over at Kace, who remains frozen by the corner, his face pale as a ghost.

“What did you tell him?” Artem asks, his tone casual.

I smirk. “Just set a little trap for him. He’ll take the bait.”

“If he doesn’t?”

“He will, ” I reply confidently, my mind already spinning with the next steps. “He’ll do whatever it takes to get her back. He has no choice.”

Artem nods, but there’s a glint of amusement in his eyes. “You really think he’ll get the money?”

“He’ll try,” I say, my grin widening. “Even if he does… it won’t save him. It’s not about the money, Artem. It never was.”

Artem chuckles softly, shaking his head. “You’re playing with fire, Maxim.”

I glance at him, my smile darkening. “I’m not playing. I’m burning everything down.”

As we leave the event, I can’t help but think about how easily Kace folded. He’s desperate, and that desperation is going to destroy him. He doesn’t even realize that the money is just a distraction. The real game is about breaking him piece by piece, watching him lose everything he cares about until there’s nothing left.