Kidnapped by the Bratva (Sharov Bratva #5)

Chapter Fifteen - Maxim

Kristen sits across from me in my office, his posture tense but composed. Artem and Timur are here too, standing nearby like shadows. Kristen’s eyes narrow as he looks at me, suspicion brewing behind them.

“This wasn’t about the money,” he says, his voice steady, but I can hear the edge of accusation. “Why did you really kidnap Sophia, and why were you after Kace?”

I lean back in my chair, feeling the familiar burn of anger deep in my gut. “This is about my father’s death,” I say coldly, each word heavy with the weight of truth. “Arlo Sharov.”

Kristen doesn’t flinch, but I can see the way his eyes harden. He’s piecing it together. “Kace didn’t kill your father, Maxim,” he says firmly. “I don’t know what you’ve been told, but you’ve been chasing the wrong man.”

My jaw tightens, and I lean forward, resting my elbows on the desk. “The facts say otherwise. The car that was seen leaving the scene of my father’s murder? It was rented by Kace Preston. You think I’m just going to ignore that?”

Kristen sighs, clearly frustrated. “Yes, the car was rented, but not for what you think. We were considering buying a few for operations, so Kace rented it to test it out. We didn’t like it, so we returned it. That’s it. Nothing more.”

I glare at him, my hands curling into fists. “You expect me to believe that?” My voice drops, the anger simmering beneath the surface. “Everything points to your boss.”

He shakes his head slowly, locking eyes with me. “You’re being set up. Kace didn’t do it.”

Before I can respond, Timur steps forward, his face serious. “Kristen’s right. It wasn’t Kace.”

I turn to Timur, narrowing my eyes. “What the hell are you talking about?”

Timur crosses his arms, his expression grim. “I’ve had moles planted among the Italians for months now. They’ve been feeding me information, and what I found… it’s bad. Arlo Sharov’s murder? It was Don Fernando who orchestrated it.”

For a moment, I just stare at him, my brain trying to catch up. “Fernando?” I say, my voice low with disbelief.

Timur nods. “Yes. Fernando set the whole thing up. He framed Kace and made sure you’d come after him. The guy who rented Kace the car, Henry? He was paid off to sell you that story. As soon as he gave you the intel, he disappeared. Left the country the next day.”

The anger inside me flares, and I feel the burn of it in my chest. “Why would Fernando do this?”

Timur’s jaw tightens. “It’s simple. Fernando wants the Russians and the Americans at each other’s throats. If we wipe each other out, it clears the way for the Italians to take over. They don’t want to be second in line anymore. This war between you and Kace? It’s exactly what they wanted.”

I clench my fists so tightly that my knuckles turn white. All this time, I’ve been chasing the wrong enemy. Every move, every decision, fueled by a lie. Fernando had set the pieces in place, watching us fight while he sat back, waiting for us to weaken each other. The rage simmers hotter, and I lean back in my chair, trying to control it.

“This whole time…” I say, my voice barely above a growl. “I’ve been played.”

Kristen watches me closely, his eyes filled with a mix of concern and frustration. “I told you, Maxim. Kace wasn’t your enemy. He didn’t kill your father.”

The realization crashes over me, and it feels like the ground beneath me has shifted. Everything I’ve done—kidnapping Sophia, setting this entire plan into motion—was based on a lie. I have to face the fact that I’ve wasted time, energy, and resources on the wrong target.

“Fernando set this up,” I mutter, anger tightening my chest. “He wanted me to come after Kace. To start a war.”

Timur nods again. “Exactly. Henry’s gone, and Fernando’s sitting pretty, waiting for us to tear each other apart.”

My mind spins, the puzzle pieces falling into place. I feel the weight of my mistakes, but I also feel the cold, calculated resolve that’s gotten me this far. I’m not about to let Fernando get away with this. He thinks he’s won, but he’s wrong.

“This changes everything,” I say through clenched teeth, my mind already working on the next steps. Fernando played me, but he’s about to find out just how much of a mistake that was.

Kristen leans forward, his voice sharp. “Now you know the truth. Kace is dead—he died thinking you were coming for him. So what now, Maxim?”

I don’t answer him right away. My focus shifts to the bigger picture, to the next moves I’ll need to make. Don Fernando just became my primary target. The game has changed, and now, it’s my turn to move.

“I’m going to make Fernando pay,” I say, my voice dark with the promise of vengeance. “I’m going to take my time with him. He’ll regret ever crossing me.”

The room falls into a heavy silence. Kristen looks at me, his face still tight with anger and frustration. Before he can respond, Timur speaks, his voice calm but carrying an edge of deadly certainty.

“Kace’s death wasn’t natural either,” Timur says, his eyes locking on to Kristen’s. “It was planned. An induced heart attack—another move by Don Fernando to cover his tracks. If you carry out a deeper autopsy, you’ll find traces of it.”

Kristen’s eyes widen slightly, his jaw tightening as the weight of Timur’s words sinks in. “An induced heart attack,” he repeats, disbelief flickering across his face. “Why?”

Timur leans forward, his expression serious. “If Kace and Maxim had confronted each other about Arlo’s death, the truth would’ve come out. Fernando couldn’t afford that. He needed the Russians and Americans at each other’s throats, not finding common ground.”

I watch as the realization dawns on Kristen, his features hardening with anger. The man had been loyal to Kace for years—hearing that his boss, his friend, was murdered in cold blood to further some sick agenda clearly rattles him. It’s a betrayal of the worst kind.

“So Fernando orchestrated everything,” Kristen mutters, his fists clenching on the armrests of his chair. “He killed my boss… like a brother to me, just to fuel the war between you and the Americans.”

I nod, my own rage boiling beneath the surface. “He killed my father to increase the enmity between the Russian and American Mafia. To destroy both of us.”

The room falls silent again, the shared hatred for Fernando palpable in the air. For years, we’ve been manipulated —played like pawns in a game we didn’t even know we were part of. The veil has been lifted. We know the truth, and the Italians will pay for it.

Timur clears his throat, his expression focused as he leans back in his chair. “The Italians have grown in power—more than we anticipated. They’ve been building alliances, expanding their influence. We can’t take them on alone.”

Kristen’s gaze sharpens. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying if you want to go against Don Fernando, if you want to avenge Kace and Arlo, there needs to be an alliance between the Russians and the American Mafia,” Timur explains. “The Americans have the numbers, and we have the money. Together, we can take down the Italians.”

Kristen nods, his eyes filled with a fierce determination. “Let’s do it. For Kace and for Arlo. We’ll join forces.”

Before I can respond, Artem speaks up from the corner of the room, his arms crossed over his chest. “How can we trust the Americans? How do we know their loyalty won’t falter when things get tough?”

I turn to Timur, waiting for his response. I understand Artem’s skepticism. The Americans have been our rivals for so long—trusting them now, after everything, feels like a gamble.

Timur doesn’t flinch. “There’s a way to ensure loyalty. It’s an old tradition—one that’s been used for centuries.”

“What tradition?” I ask, already knowing where this is going but wanting to hear it aloud.

Timur’s eyes flicker toward me, his voice steady as he answers. “A marriage alliance. Between you and Sophia.”

I feel the words hit me like a punch to the gut. Marriage? To Sophia? The thought stirs something in me, a mix of anger and… something else. Something I can’t quite place. I narrow my eyes at Timur, trying to keep my voice even. “You’re serious?”

Timur nods. “It’s the only way to seal the alliance. The Americans get protection, and we ensure their loyalty through family ties. It’s the right way.”

Kristen looks between us, his expression unreadable. “It’s not uncommon,” he says after a moment. “Marriages have been used to unite families in this world for generations. It’s how our fathers kept alliances strong.”

Artem, however, remains unconvinced. “You’re really going to suggest marrying Kace’s daughter? After everything?”

I meet his gaze. Sophia. The girl who’s been at the center of this mess. The girl I kidnapped, manipulated, and used as a pawn.

“It’s the best option,” Timur continues, his tone resolute. “The Italians won’t stop unless we put them down, and we can’t do it without the Americans. This marriage is the key to securing their loyalty.”

I don’t say anything for a moment, my mind racing. I picture Sophia in the car outside, still reeling from the news of her father’s death. She’s already been through enough—now I’m supposed to marry her? It seems absurd. But Timur’s right. An alliance is the only way to ensure we take down Don Fernando, and a marriage is the best way to cement it.

Kristen speaks up again, his voice softer now. “It would be what Kace would want. He always believed in unity between our families, even when we were at odds.”

I scoff internally. Kace, the man who was willing to sell his daughter off to Jackson Miller for a business deal. Now I’m supposed to take her hand? The thought leaves a bitter taste in my mouth, but I know this isn’t about me. This is about revenge. About power. About taking down the Italians once and for all.

I lean back in my chair, watching the room’s reaction to the suggestion. Timur’s proposal has caught everyone off guard, even me, though I hide it well. Artem looks like he wants to argue, but he knows better. Kristen’s brow is furrowed in deep thought, and Timur, always the strategist, stands there as if he’s already playing out every scenario in his mind.

A marriage alliance. It’s not a bad idea. In fact, it’s more than that—it’s a brilliant one. The Americans would be bound to us by blood, their loyalty guaranteed. I’d gain leverage over them, making their princess my wife. It’s a deal with more than just tactical advantage. It’s a show of dominance, a power move that would secure our position against the Italians and keep the Americans in line.

The image of Sophia flashes in my mind. Her delicate features, those fiery brown eyes, the way she stood defiant even in the face of danger. I think about what it would be like to have her as my wife. Not a bad sight at all. I can picture it—her standing beside me, my ring on her finger, bound to me for life. She’d hate it, of course.

She hates me now.

Hate can be useful. It burns hot, keeps people sharp. And eventually, hate gives way to something else.

Artem breaks the silence, his voice low and laced with skepticism. “So, you’re really considering this?”

I glance at him, a smirk tugging at the corner of my mouth. “It’s not about what I want, Artem. It’s about what’s best for us. The Americans need to be brought into the fold, and this is the most efficient way to do it.”

He shakes his head slightly, clearly uncomfortable with the idea, but Timur nods in agreement. “It’s a solid plan. The alliance would be ironclad. No American Mafia boss would cross a family that has one of their own as the wife of the man running things. It’s tradition.”

Kristen remains quiet, his eyes shifting between me and Timur as he processes the suggestion. He knows it’s a good deal. He’s loyal to his fallen boss, but he’s also pragmatic. If a marriage between Sophia and me is the price to secure peace, he’ll have to consider it.

I watch Kristen closely, waiting for him to respond. The tension in the room thickens as everyone waits for his reaction. Finally, he exhales, his shoulders sagging slightly.

“Let me talk to Sophia,” he says, his voice heavy with resignation.

Timur and Artem both exchange a glance, and I nod. It’s not surprising that he wants to talk to her first, but the decision is inevitable. She’ll have no choice. Neither of us does.

Kristen stands up, his face lined with the weight of everything that’s happened. “I’ll explain the situation to her, but you know this isn’t going to be easy for her to accept.”

“Doesn’t have to be easy,” I reply smoothly, standing up as well. “It just has to happen.”

Kristen doesn’t respond to that, but I can see the tension in his jaw as he walks toward the door. He knows I’m right. He also knows Sophia won’t be happy about this, but her feelings are secondary to the bigger picture. This is about power. About strategy. She’ll come around eventually, or she won’t. Either way, I’ll make sure this alliance goes through.

As Kristen leaves the room, the silence that follows is thick with unspoken thoughts. Artem crosses his arms, still clearly skeptical, but he knows better than to argue further. Timur, on the other hand, looks satisfied, already thinking ahead, already seeing the possibilities.

I turn to him, my mind made up. “We move forward with the plan. Once Kristen talks to her, we’ll see where she stands.”

Timur nods, a gleam of satisfaction in his eyes. “It’s the right move. You’ll have the Americans wrapped around your finger. The Italians won’t stand a chance.”

“Let’s just hope she agrees,” Artem mutters under his breath.

I glance at him, smirking again. “She’ll agree. She doesn’t have a choice.”

The room falls into a tense quiet as the reality of the situation sinks in. Sophia, whether she wants it or not, is about to be part of something much bigger than herself. So am I. There’s no turning back from this.

Marriage. Power. Revenge. It’s all connected now, and it’s all falling into place.