Page 14 of Kidnapped By the Bratva

With one final breath, I push open the door and step back into the restaurant, the mask of composure firmly back in place.

The cool air hits my skin as I step back into the softly lit dining area. My heart is still pounding in my chest from the conversation with Jackson, and I feel the weight of it pressing down on me like a heavy stone. I don’t want to go back to the table. I don’t want to sit across from him and pretend like everything is okay when it isn’t.

With a deep breath, I start making my way back to my seat, my eyes focused on the floor in front of me. Just a few more hours, and this nightmare of a dinner will be over.

Suddenly, I bump into something—someone.The impact is jarring, and I stumble back slightly, my heart skipping a beat in surprise. A deep voice reaches my ears, smooth but carrying an edge.

“Are you okay?”

I look up, blinking in surprise, and my eyes meet his. He’s tall, towering over me with ease. His broad shoulders and muscular frame make him seem larger than life, and for a moment, I’m frozen, taking in the man standing before me. His skin is fair, but his dark brown eyes stand out sharply, filled with something I can’t quite place. Mystery, maybe. Or something darker. His short brown hair is neatly styled, but it’s his expression that catches me off guard—a slight grin, not unfriendly, but not exactly warm either.

For a split second, I’m not sure what to say. His presence is intense, like the air around him is charged with something Ican’t put my finger on. My heart flutters uncomfortably, and I wonder why someone like him feels so familiar, so unsettling. He stands there, looking at me with that half smile, like he knows something I don’t.

His voice breaks the silence again. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

The words are polite enough, but the way his eyes linger on mine makes me feel like he’s assessing me, taking in every detail. I try to shake off the strange feeling settling in my stomach and force a smile, nodding quickly.

“I’m fine,” I say softly, my voice not quite as steady as I want it to be. I take a step back, putting a little more space between us, though it does nothing to ease the sudden tension in the air.

He watches me for a second longer, his gaze flicking over me like he’s studying me, and it makes my skin prickle. There’s something about him—something I can’t read. His expression is calm, but his eyes hide something deeper, something darker. For a brief moment, I feel like I’m standing in front of a man I should be afraid of.

“Good,” he says finally, his voice low. “Glad to hear it.”

I nod again, unsure of what else to do. My mind is racing, trying to piece together why this stranger feels so… different. His presence is commanding, and it’s like I can feel the energy radiating off him. It’s not just his height or the way he carries himself, though that’s part of it. It’s the way his eyes seem to pierce right through me, like he’s seeing something no one else does.

Without another word, I turn and walk away, my pulse still racing from the brief interaction. As I make my way backto the table where Jackson is waiting, I can’t help but glance over my shoulder once. The man is still there, watching me, his expression unreadable. The slight grin on his lips hasn’t faltered, and for reasons I can’t explain, the memory of his touch—brief as it was—lingers on my skin.

I try to push the thought away. It doesn’t matter. He doesn’t matter. I have more important things to focus on, like figuring out how to get through the rest of this evening without losing my mind. But as I sit back down across from Jackson, my mind keeps drifting back to the stranger with the dark eyes and mysterious smile. Who was he? Why did I feel like I couldn’t quite breathe when he looked at me?

Jackson is still talking when I sit down, something about his father’s latest investment. I nod along, pretending to listen, but my thoughts are miles away. My eyes keep flicking back to the spot where I bumped into that man, wondering if I’ll see him again. I don’t know why, but something about him stuck with me. He felt dangerous. Not in the obvious way, but in a way that makes me curious, even if I don’t want to be.

Jackson leans in, his voice dropping to a more intimate tone. “So, where were we?”

I smile at him, though it feels strained. “Just talking about business, I think.”

He chuckles, oblivious to my distracted state. “Ah, yes. Business.” He winks, and I feel the same emptiness I did before, the same hollow feeling that makes me want to escape this table, this conversation, this entire arrangement.

I’m trying to stay present, trying to focus on the man in front of me—the man I’m supposed to be getting to know, the one I’m supposed to eventually marry—but my mind keeps drifting back to those dark eyes and that brief, electric touch.Whoever he was, he made me feel something. Something unsettling. Something I’m not sure I like.

Jackson’s voice fades into the background as I struggle to focus on anything but that brief encounter. The stranger’s dark eyes, his intense presence—it lingers in my mind, like a puzzle I’m desperate to solve but afraid of at the same time. I catch myself glancing over my shoulder again, half expecting him to still be standing there, watching me with that unreadable expression.

He’s gone. Of course he’s gone.

I force myself to pay attention to Jackson, nodding at something he says about his father’s new deal. He’s charming in his own way, I suppose, but there’s nothing beneath the surface. His words are rehearsed, calculated. Everything feels like it’s part of a larger performance.

“Are you alright?” Jackson’s voice breaks through my thoughts. He tilts his head, studying me with mild concern. “You seem a little distracted.”

I plaster on a smile, pushing away the image of the man with the dark eyes. “I’m fine. Just a little tired.”

Jackson grins, leaning in slightly. “Well, I hope I’m not boring you too much.”

I shake my head, offering him the response he wants. “No, of course not.”

Even as I say it, I know my mind is still somewhere else.

Chapter Seven - Maxim

I lean back in my chair, my eyes fixed on the ceiling as the memory of my brief encounter with Kace Preston’s daughter plays in my mind. Sophia. She’s prettier in person than in the photos I’d seen. The pictures didn’t do her justice. There was something more to her—a quiet elegance, even with the sadness in her eyes. Her long blonde hair framed her face perfectly, and though her expression seemed composed, I noticed the subtle signs of strain. Her eyes were slightly puffy, like she’d been crying not too long ago. Despite that, there was a kind of beauty in her sorrow. It made her seem… human. Vulnerable.

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