Page 9 of Kidnapped By the Bratva

“Wait,” I say, feeling the beginnings of panic stir in my chest. “Is my father setting me up with Jackson Miller?”

Anna gives me a sympathetic look, clearly uncomfortable. “I don’t know the details, Miss, but… it sounds that way.”

I stand there, frozen for a moment, my mind spinning as the weight of it settles in. A date with Jackson Miller; the guy who couldn’t keep his eyes off my chest the entire time we talked at that wedding? No. There’s no way this is happening.

“I’ll… I’ll be right down,” I mumble to Anna, turning away from the suitcase and bringing the phone back to my ear. “Jennifer?”

“What’s up?” she asks, clearly not expecting the serious tone in my voice.

“I think my dad is setting me up with Jackson Miller.”

There’s a pause on the other end before Jennifer’s voice comes back, sharp and concerned. “Wait, what… the guy from the wedding?”

“Yeah, him,” I reply, pacing the room now, feeling the frustration building inside me. “Apparently, I’m meeting him this weekend instead of going to Greece.”

“Oh, hell no,” Jennifer exclaims. “Sophia, you can’t let this happen. That guy’s a total slimeball! Does your dad even know what he’s like?”

I sigh, running a hand through my hair. “He probably does. You know how these things go. It’s about business, not personalities. I’m just… I don’t know what to do.”

Jennifer is silent for a moment before she speaks again, her voice softer. “Soph, you can’t just let them push you into this. You deserve better than Jackson freaking Miller.”

I nod, even though she can’t see me, the weight of the situation sinking in further. “I know. I just… I don’t know how to stop it without causing a huge fight with my dad.”

“Then fight,” Jennifer says firmly. “You can’t marry someone like that. I mean, are we still in the Dark Ages? He can’t tell you who to date.”

I let out a weak laugh, though it feels forced. “Apparently, he can.”

As much as I want to run away to Greece and forget all about this, I know I can’t. My father is stubborn, and once he sets his mind to something, it’s almost impossible to change it. I also can’t imagine spending my life with someone like Jackson Miller. The thought alone makes my skin crawl.

“I’ll figure something out,” I say, trying to sound more confident than I feel. “I’ll talk to my dad. See if there’s a way out of this.”

“You better,” Jennifer replies, her tone lightening slightly. “If he won’t budge, you’re running away with me to Greece. We’ll figure out the details later.”

I smile at her persistence, but the knot of anxiety in my chest remains. “Deal,” I say, though I know that running away is a last resort.

After hanging up, I stand in the middle of my room, staring at the half-packed suitcase. The excitement for the trip has evaporated, replaced by the dread of what’s to come. My father may have given me freedom in some aspects of my life, but when it comes to business and family alliances, his will is iron.

I glance at the dress I was going to wear in Greece, now folded neatly in the suitcase. It was supposed to be a weekend of freedom, a chance to escape from everything. Now, it feels like I’m walking into a trap.

I close my suitcase with a sharp snap, frustration bubbling up inside me as I think about the weekend that’s slipping through my fingers. My phone is still warm from my conversation with Jennifer, but now, all I feel is a growing dread. As I stand there, trying to figure out my next move, a knock on my bedroom door makes me turn.

It’s Anna, her expression anxious as she steps inside. “Miss Preston, you need to come downstairs. Your father is asking for you urgently.”

My heart drops further, a sinking feeling already telling me this isn’t going to be good. “Now…?” I ask, my voice tight. “Did he say what it’s about?”

Anna shakes her head, worry creasing her brow. “I believe it’s about your meeting with the Millers.”

Without another word, I grab my phone and follow Anna down the hallway, my mind racing with every step. I can hear voices filtering up from the living room, and as we approach, I catch a glimpse of my father, Kace, sitting on one of the leather couches, a smile plastered across his face. His eyes are bright, almost pleased, and my stomach twists at the sight. Something is definitely wrong.

“Dad?” I call out, stepping into the room.

Kace’s smile widens when he sees me, and he motions for me to join him. “Sophia, come sit with me.”

I remain standing, arms crossed, my heart pounding in my chest. “I don’t want to go on a date with Jackson Miller.”

The words spill out before I can stop them, my frustration leaking through. I don’t care if I’m being blunt—he needs to know how I feel about this.

Kace’s smile falters for a brief second, but he recovers quickly, his expression softening as though I’m a child having a tantrum. “Sophia, Jackson is a fine man. A perfect match for you.” He says it so calmly, so matter-of-fact, that I almost want to scream.

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