Kidnapped by the Bratva (Sharov Bratva #5)

Chapter Nineteen - Maxim

As I drive toward the Bratva’s main office building, my thoughts keep drifting back to last night. I’ve tried to shake it off, to focus on the business at hand, but the way she felt against me, the way her body responded—fuck. It’s burned into my mind, no matter how hard I try to ignore it. Sophia. She’s not just Kace’s daughter anymore. She’s my wife.

That brings complications I never wanted to deal with.

I clench my jaw, gripping the steering wheel tighter as the memory of her soft moans echoes in my head. I need to stop this. There’s too much going on right now to let her distract me. It was just business. She was just part of the deal.

As I pull up to the office building, the familiar sight of the towering structure brings me back to reality. This is where the real power lies. This is where I need to keep my focus. The future of both the Bratva and the American Mafia rests on the decisions made within these walls.

I step out of the car, adjusting my suit as I head inside. The sleek, polished floors reflect the dim lights overhead as I make my way through the hallways, the weight of what’s about to happen pressing down on me. It’s not just about revenge anymore. It’s about control. Dominance. Keeping the Americans in line while ensuring the Italians pay for what they did.

As I reach the meeting room, the doors open, and I step inside. The room is already filled with top officials from both the Russian and American Mafia, their faces tense but expectant. This is the moment they’ve all been waiting for—the deal that will officially seal our alliance.

I move to the head of the table, my gaze sweeping over the men gathered around. The Americans, rough and sharp, their eyes flickering with unease as they look at me. The Russians, calm and calculated, knowing exactly where their loyalties lie. This is our territory, and they all know it.

I take my seat, the room falling into a heavy silence as everyone waits for me to speak.

“We’re here to finalize what we’ve all agreed upon,” I begin, my voice firm and commanding. “The Russians will finance the American Mafia. In return, I expect nothing less than absolute loyalty. There will be no question of where your allegiance lies.”

One of the American men, a grizzled veteran with deep-set eyes, nods. “You have our loyalty, Sharov. We serve you, just as we served Kace.”

I nod, acknowledging his words. “Good. Then you understand that this isn’t just about money. This is about unity. We stand together, or we fall.”

The men murmur in agreement, and I can see the tension in their faces easing slightly. They’re nervous. They should be. They’ve never been in a position like this before, where their survival depends on the Bratva. They know that without us, they’re finished.

One of the younger American men, his suit too crisp, leans forward, eyes sharp. “We’ve heard about your marriage to Sophia Preston,” he says, his tone cautious. “She’s respected by our people. If she stands by you, then so do we.”

I nod slowly, my gaze shifting to the man who spoke. His words are measured, but there’s an underlying current of something else there—respect, perhaps, but also a reminder that my marriage to Sophia solidifies this alliance. She’s their connection to me. Their tie to power.

“She is my wife,” I say simply, my voice calm but firm. “Which means she’s under my protection. You serve her, you serve me.”

There’s a ripple of agreement around the table, the American men nodding, reassured by the mention of Sophia. I can’t help but find it amusing. They respect her because of her father, but she’s mine now. They’ll learn soon enough that I’m the one who holds the real power.

“We’re ready to move forward,” one of the Russian men, Ivanov, speaks up, his voice carrying the weight of authority. “This alliance is the strongest move we can make against the Italians. With the Americans on our side, Fernando won’t stand a chance.”

I lean back in my chair, my mind briefly wandering to Sophia again. The look in her eyes when she asked me to avenge her father. The way her body trembled underneath mine last night. She’s more involved in this than I ever intended her to be, but that’s how it is now. She’s a part of this world—my world—whether she likes it or not.

“I expect this to be a clean operation,” I say, my voice cutting through the room. “The Italians are smart, but we’re smarter. We’ll cripple them, cut off their resources, and then we’ll take them down. Piece by piece.”

There’s a murmur of approval from the Russian side of the table, and I can feel the energy in the room shift. They’re ready. We all are.

“You have our loyalty, Maxim,” one of the American men says, his tone resolute. “You married into our family. We’ll follow you.”

I nod, satisfied with the response. This alliance is more than just a business transaction—it’s a consolidation of power. With Sophia at my side, I now control both the Russian and American Mafias. And with that kind of influence, there’s no stopping me.

I rise from my seat and make my way over to the group of men still lingering by the door. Artem is speaking quietly with Timur, discussing details about Don Fernando. As I approach, they both turn their attention to me.

“We need to move carefully with Fernando,” Timur says, his voice low. “He’s got resources, but his kids are all back in Italy. He’s more vulnerable than he lets on.”

“He doesn’t know we’re coming for him,” Artem adds with a smirk. “He thinks the Russians and Americans are still at each other’s throats. That’s where we’ve got the upper hand.”

I nod, considering the information. Fernando may be a cunning bastard, but he’s grown comfortable in the belief that the Russians and Americans are too preoccupied with each other to pose a real threat. That comfort is going to be his downfall.

“We wait for the right moment,” I say, my voice firm. “There’s an event coming up—one of those charity galas Fernando loves to attend. He’ll be exposed there, out in the open. That’s when we strike.”

“Smart,” Artem agrees. “He won’t expect it. He’ll have security, but nothing too heavy. It’ll give us the perfect chance.”

Timur glances around, making sure no one else is listening. “We’ll set everything in place for the event. Make sure we have eyes on him at all times leading up to it. When we take him, it’ll be clean and fast.”

I like the way Timur thinks. Fernando has been operating unchecked for too long, stirring up trouble between us and the Americans to grow his own power. But he made one fatal mistake—he underestimated me.

“Keep me updated,” I say as the men nod in agreement. They start discussing further details, but my focus is already shifting. We’re on the right path now, and soon, Fernando will fall.

As the meeting wraps up and the room empties, I reach for my phone. A notification flashes across the screen, and the name on it stops me cold.

Hailey.

I sigh, my finger hovering over the screen before I quickly hit the button to silence the call.

Artem notices, raising an eyebrow as he walks past me. “Who’s that?”

“Nothing I can’t handle,” I mutter, sliding my phone back into my pocket. Hailey has been a complication for a while now, one I don’t have time to deal with. She’s always calling, always needing something.

“What does she want this time?” Timur asks as we step into the hallway, his voice casual, but I can tell he’s curious.

“She always wants something,” I reply, my tone clipped. “It doesn’t matter. I’ve got more important things to deal with right now.”

Artem smirks, clearly amused by the situation. “She must’ve been quite the distraction at some point if she’s still calling.”

“She was,” I admit, a tinge of annoyance creeping into my voice. Hailey was fun for a while, but she started to get clingy, demanding more than I was willing to give. Now, she’s just a distraction—one I can’t afford.

“Cut her loose,” Timur says simply, as if it’s the easiest thing in the world. “You’ve got enough on your plate already. Fernando’s going to take every ounce of focus we have.”

“I know,” I mutter, my jaw tightening. He’s right, of course. The last thing I need is Hailey complicating things when I’m trying to take down one of the most dangerous men in the Mafia.

I glance back at my phone, wondering if she’ll call again. She always does.

“Leave it for now,” I say, dismissing the thought. “We’ve got more important business.”

Artem and Timur exchange a look but don’t press further. They know better than to question me when I’ve made up my mind.

We make our way out of the building, the cool evening air hitting me as we step outside. The sky is dark, the city lights flickering like stars in the distance. I pull out a cigarette and light it, the familiar burn of smoke filling my lungs as I take a deep drag.

Fernando’s days are numbered. It’s only a matter of time before he realizes just how badly he’s fucked up. When he does, it’ll be too late.

“You really think Fernando’s going to show his face at this gala?” Artem asks, breaking the silence.

I nod, exhaling a cloud of smoke. “He loves to flaunt his power. He’ll be there. He won’t be able to resist.”

“Good,” Timur says, his tone cold. “I want to see the look on his face when he realizes what’s coming.”

I smirk, the image of Fernando’s smug expression turning to panic flashing in my mind. “You will.”

The next few days will be crucial. Every detail has to be perfect. Every move has to be calculated. Fernando won’t see us coming until it’s too late.

“I’ll have everything ready,” Artem says, his voice filled with confidence. “Fernando’s downfall is going to be something to remember.”

“It better be,” I reply, crushing the cigarette beneath my boot as I flick it to the ground. “Because once we take him down, there’s no turning back.”

Timur grins, his eyes gleaming with anticipation. “We’ll make sure it’s a clean hit. One that sends a message to anyone else who thinks they can cross us.”

I nod, my mind already racing through the plan. Fernando’s death will shake the underworld to its core, and when the dust settles, the Russians and Americans will be stronger than ever.

I’ll be the one holding all the cards.

As we walk to the car, my phone vibrates again in my pocket. Another call from Hailey. I ignore it, my focus now entirely on what’s to come. Fernando won’t know what hit him, and once he’s gone, I’ll deal with every other loose end—including Hailey.

For now, all I need to do is stay the course.

Because power isn’t just about control.

It’s about making sure everyone knows exactly who holds it.