Page 5 of Kidnapped By the Bratva

“They’re so in love,” I murmur, smiling despite myself. “I was going to congratulate them, but I don’t want to disturb them. They deserve to enjoy tonight without interruption.”

Jennifer gives me a knowing look. “You think their honeymoon phase will ever wear off?”

I laugh. The bride is practically glowing, and the groom… well, he looks at her like she’s the only person in the world. They’re completely obsessed with each other.

“They’ve been in the honeymoon phase since forever,” I say, shaking my head with a grin. “It’ll never wear off.”

Jennifer raises an eyebrow. “It’s cute, though.”

“Yeah,” I reply. “There’s something about the way they look at each other… it’s different. It’s not just love; it’s like they’ve chosen each other in a way that’s unbreakable.”

We both fall into a comfortable silence, watching as the last of the guests trickle inside. I glance over at the bride and groom again, still lost in their own world, and feel a sense of peace wash over me. As much as I dream about finding something like that, I know it will happen in its own time. No rush.

“Come on,” Jennifer says, nudging me gently. “Let’s head back in before they think we’re avoiding the party.”

I take one last look at the happy couple before nodding, turning toward the ballroom with a soft smile on my lips.

As Jennifer and I make our way back toward the ballroom, I catch sight of my father standing near the grand entrance, engaged in conversation with a man I vaguely recognize. Mr. Miller—one of my father’s business associates. They’ve worked together for years, though I can’t recall meeting him in person before. His son stands beside him, tall and polished, exuding the same aura of wealth and power that seems to float around his father.

I feel my father’s eyes on me, and with a slight motion of his head, he beckons me over. I sigh softly, giving Jennifer a small nod before making my way toward them. There’s no escaping these introductions. It’s all part of the package that comes with being Kace Preston’s daughter.

As I approach, Mr. Miller’s attention shifts to me, his smile widening. He looks every bit the successful businessman, with a tailored suit and sharp eyes that glitter with interest. “Ah,Sophia,” he says warmly. “It’s been years since I last saw you. You’ve grown into quite the young lady.”

So, Ihavemet him before.

I offer him a polite smile, though my guard is already up. My father has a way of introducing me to people with a purpose—whether it’s business, alliances, or something more personal—and I can’t help but wonder what this is about.

Mr. Miller gestures toward the young man standing beside him. “This is my son, Jackson. I don’t believe you’ve met before.”

Jackson steps forward, offering me a charming smile, though there’s something about it that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. He’s handsome, in a conventional sort of way—tall, athletic, with dark hair neatly styled and a jawline that looks like it’s been sculpted. His suit is perfectly tailored, and everything about him screams wealth and privilege.

“Nice to meet you, Sophia,” Jackson says smoothly, taking my hand for a brief, formal shake. His grip is firm, but his eyes linger too long on me, and not in a way that feels respectful. I catch him glancing at my chest for just a second too long before meeting my eyes again.

A flicker of discomfort runs through me, but I mask it with a polite smile, slipping my hand away from his. “Nice to meet you too, Jackson.”

As we exchange pleasantries, I can’t help but feel his eyes on me, wandering in ways that make my skin crawl. It’s subtle, but not subtle enough for me to miss. His gaze keeps dropping lower, tracing the neckline of my dress, even as he speaks about something completely mundane. I know this type—charming on the surface but arrogant underneath, the kind of man who’s used to getting whatever he wants.

My father and Mr. Miller continue their conversation, laughing about some business deal they’ve been discussing, completely oblivious to the discomfort building inside me. Jackson, meanwhile, leans in slightly, lowering his voice as he speaks.

“So, Sophia,” he says, his eyes still flicking between my face and my body, “how does it feel being the daughter of such a powerful man? I bet you’re used to everyone doing whatever you say.”

I raise an eyebrow, not sure whether to laugh or recoil. “I wouldn’t say that,” I reply, keeping my tone light but distant. “Power isn’t everything.”

Jackson smirks, clearly not picking up on my discomfort—or choosing to ignore it. “Maybe not, but it sure makes life easier, doesn’t it?”

His words rub me the wrong way, but it’s the way he’s looking at me that bothers me most. There’s a sense of entitlement in his gaze, like he thinks I’m just another prize to be won. My patience wears thin as the conversation continues, and I find myself glancing at my father, wondering how long I’ll have to endure this introduction.

Kace, noticing my subtle shift, finally steps in. “Sophia, Jackson is considering taking over more of his father’s business. I thought it would be good for you two to meet. We’ll be seeing more of the Millers in the future.”

I nod politely, though inside, I’m bristling at the implication. The unspoken hint that this introduction might be about more than business, that perhaps there’s a future my father envisions here. My stomach tightens at the thought, and I resist the urge to roll my eyes.

Jackson’s smile widens, clearly enjoying my father’s approval. “Yes, we’ll be spending more time together, I’m sure. Maybe we can get together sometime. Just the two of us?”

I force a smile, though it feels more like a grimace. “I’m pretty busy these days.”

He chuckles, as if I’m playing hard to get. “Come on, don’t make it sound like a chore. I promise, I’m fun.”

I nod slightly, keeping my tone polite but firm. “I’m sure you are, but like I said, I have a lot on my plate.”

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