Page 4 of Kidnapped By the Bratva

The graveyard feels colder as I turn and walk back toward the car, my mind locked on the task ahead. Anger simmers just below the surface, but I keep it in check, for now. If there’s one thing I’ve learned from this life, it’s patience. Vengeance is always best served cold, and when I find the one responsible, it won’t be quick. It’ll be slow. Painful.

The sun dips lower in the sky, casting long shadows over the graves, but I barely notice. My father’s death was the first blow, but this… this is the beginning of something darker.

I reach my car, my fingers tightening around the handle as I yank the door open. Tonight, I’ll get answers. Soon, very soon, someone will pay with their life.

Chapter Two - Sophia

I stand in front of the mirror, smoothing down the soft fabric of the dress that hugs my frame just right. It’s modest, simple, but it feels elegant enough for tonight’s event. The soft lavender color complements my skin tone, and I’ve spent extra time getting my makeup perfect—subtle, but enough to highlight my brown eyes. My long blonde hair cascades down my back in gentle waves, the way my father likes it.

It’s one of those rare nights when I allow myself to feel a little special.

A faint smile plays on my lips as I turn slightly, giving myself one last look before heading downstairs. My heels click softly against the polished floor, the sound growing louder as I approach the grand staircase. I catch a glimpse of my father, Kace, waiting at the bottom with his usual proud expression. His eyes light up when he sees me, and there’s something in that look that makes me feel… cherished.

“Beautiful, as always,” he says, his voice warm and full of affection.

I smile back, feeling a warmth rise in my chest. “You spoil me too much,” I tease lightly as I reach the last step.

Kisten, my father’s right-hand man and someone I’ve known since childhood, stands beside him, watching with that familiar, protective glint in his eye. He’s like an uncle to me, always there, always loyal.

“He’s right,” Kisten says with a grin. “You look stunning, Sophia. If you keep looking this good, we’ll need to fend off more proposals.”

I roll my eyes dramatically, though a smile tugs at my lips. “Please, spare me the matchmaking tonight.”

Kisten chuckles, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “You say that now, but there’ll be more soon. Believe me, they’re lining up.”

I shake my head, walking over to them both. “Lining up for a business deal more than anything else,” I mutter under my breath. Arranged marriages, proposals from powerful families—none of it ever felt real to me. Who wants to be tied to someone just for the sake of power and politics?

My father stays quiet on the subject, as he always does, his protective nature showing in the silence. He’s never pushed me toward any of the proposals, and for that, I’m thankful. I know I’m lucky in that sense. He wants what’s best for me, but he never forces my hand. Not when it comes to something as personal as marriage.

“Let’s get going,” Kace says, glancing at his watch. “We don’t want to be late.”

We head out, stepping into the sleek black car waiting in the driveway. The night feels heavy with anticipation, the wedding we’re attending looming over me in a way that stirs emotions I try not to think about too often.

By the time we arrive at the grand venue, the celebration is in full swing. The warm glow of chandeliers lights up the room, casting a romantic glow over everything. It’s beautiful, really. A fairy tale in its own right, with the bride and groom standing at the center of it all, their smiles so bright it’s almost infectious. Everyone’s dressed in their finest, clinking glasses, laughing, dancing.

I feel a twinge in my chest, watching the bride as she glides across the dance floor with her new husband. There’s something about weddings that always gets to me. The romance of it, the idea of two people choosing each other, not because of power or influence, but because they want each other.

I’ve been to countless weddings, most of them like this—arranged, strategic marriages between powerful families. I understand the necessity of it, but the thought of being paired with someone I barely know, someone I have no real connection with, makes me shudder. I don’t want that. I want the kind of love that sweeps you off your feet, that makes you feel like you’ve found your other half.

I want a wedding, yes, but not like this. Not with someone who sees me as a prize, as a piece of some political puzzle. I want someone who looks at me like I’m more than just Kace Preston’s daughter.

As I sit at the long table, surrounded by family and acquaintances, I find myself drifting into those thoughts again. The idea of falling in love—real love—feels distant, almost impossible in the world I come from. I still cling to it, even if it feels like a childish dream.

Someday, I’ll find the man who sees me for who I am, not just the daughter of a Mafia boss. Someone who makes me feel safe, loved… chosen.

I watch the bride and groom take another spin across the floor, their hands clasped tight, smiles lighting up their faces. A soft sigh escapes my lips as I turn back to my drink, letting the bittersweet thought settle in my chest.

Someday.

I step out onto the lawn, the cool evening breeze offering a welcome relief from the crowded room. My friend Jennifer stands beside me, adjusting the hem of her dress as we watch more guests arrive in sleek cars, their laughter and chatter floating across the garden.

“They really went all out for this one,” Jennifer says, taking a sip from her champagne glass. “I swear, every wedding we attend is more over the top than the last.”

I nod, my gaze following the line of guests as they make their way inside. “It’s like a competition at this point. Who can throw the grandest wedding with the most powerful guests.”

Jennifer chuckles, but her expression softens as she looks back toward the ballroom. “Still… it’s nice, isn’t it? Seeing them so happy together.”

I follow her gaze and spot the bride and groom inside, wrapped up in each other’s arms, completely oblivious to the world around them. They’re sharing a quiet moment, talking and laughing softly, and for a second, I feel a pang of something—longing, maybe—stirring in my chest.

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