Page 35 of Kidnapped By the Bratva

“Then why does it feel like I have no choice?” I snap, pacing the room. “What if I say no?”

Kristen takes a deep breath. “The American Mafia is crumbling, Sophia. Your father’s businesses, his legacy… it’s all falling apart. We don’t have the resources or the men to fight off the Italians. We need immediate financing, and the Russians are the only ones who can provide it.”

I stop, my chest heaving as the reality sinks in. He’s right. Without the Russians, there’s no way we can survive this war. My father’s entire empire is hanging by a thread, and I’m the one holding the scissors. If I say no, everything he built will be gone. Everything he sacrificed will mean nothing.

Tears well up again, but I blink them away, refusing to let them fall. I’ve already cried enough.

Kristen’s voice softens. “I know you hate this idea, Sophia. I know you hate Maxim. This is about survival. It’s about saving what your father built, about avenging his death. I wouldn’t be suggesting this if I didn’t think it was the only way.”

I turn toward him, feeling the weight of the decision pressing down on me. I don’t want to marry Maxim. I don’t want to be tied to him for life. But what choice do I have? Thealternative is letting everything my father worked for crumble. Letting his death go unavenged. I can’t let that happen.

With a shaky breath, I nod. “Fine. I’ll do it.”

Kristen looks relieved, though there’s still sadness in his eyes. “I’m sorry it has to be this way.”

I shake my head. “It doesn’t matter. I need to protect my father’s legacy. If this is the only way, then… so be it.”

I feel numb as the words leave my mouth, the weight of the decision settling over me like a heavy blanket. My life, as I knew it, is over.

Chapter Seventeen - Maxim

I stand at the altar, my eyes scanning the rare sight before me—guests from both the Bratva and the American Mafia. It’s not often you see this mix. Two factions that were once enemies, now sitting side by side, all because of the woman who’s about to become my wife.

My gaze shifts toward the aisle as Sophia appears, her arm looped through Kristen’s. She walks slowly, her face pale, her frame smaller than it was just a week ago. Kace’s death hit her hard—I can see it in her hollowed cheeks, the weight of grief still pressing down on her. Yet, even with that sadness lingering in her eyes, she’s beautiful. Almost too beautiful.

Her dress clings to her in all the right places, her long blonde hair cascading down her back. As she gets closer, I notice the nervousness in her steps, the stiffness in her posture. She stops in front of me, her eyes avoiding mine as Kristen hands her over. It feels more like a transaction than a wedding. Because that’s what it is—business.

The ceremony begins, the exchange of vows a formality neither of us can escape. As Sophia speaks, her voice is soft, almost fragile, but there’s a strength beneath it. I catch myself staring, more entranced by her than I expected to be. The words pass by in a blur, but I’m aware of her presence in a way that feels unsettling. My mind drifts to what will happen later tonight, and I can’t help the desire that builds in me as I think about her, how I’ll claim her completely.

Finally, it’s time. I lift her veil, revealing her face fully for the first time today. Her eyes meet mine, wide and uncertain, but she doesn’t flinch. I lean in, my hand cupping her cheek as I press my lips against hers. The kiss is soft at first, her lips warmand pliable beneath mine, but I want more. The taste of her is intoxicating, and for a brief second, I forget everything else. I forget the crowd, the vows, even the business arrangement behind all of this.

All I want is her.

When I pull back, I notice the way her breath hitches, her cheeks flushed pink. I suppress the smirk threatening to form. She’s mine now. Completely. That thought, that certainty, only fuels the hunger inside me.

The day progresses into night, the reception a blur of toasts and polite conversation. My mind is elsewhere, already thinking about what’s waiting for me later. When I finally step into my room, she’s already there. She stands by the window, her back to me, her long dress flowing down her legs. She seems out of place, awkward and unsure.

She turns when she hears me, her hands nervously clasped in front of her. “Do we have to live in the same room?” she asks, her voice hesitant, unsure.

I step closer, my eyes never leaving her. “This may have been a marriage of convenience,” I say, my voice low, “but you’re my wife now, Sophia. You’ll fulfill all the duties that come with that.”

Her eyes widen slightly, and I can sense the nervousness radiating from her. She shifts her weight, her fingers fidgeting with the fabric of her dress. I move closer until I’m standing right in front of her, so close I can feel the tension rolling off her in waves.

Her breath quickens as I reach for the zipper of her dress, slowly pulling it down. She doesn’t stop me, doesn’t push me away. Instead, she stands there, her body stiff, waiting.

I lean in, my lips brushing the shell of her ear as I whisper, “Why so nervous, Sophia? Don’t tell me… are you a virgin?”

Her silence is answer enough, but when she nods, a spark of something dark flares in me. The thought that no one’s ever touched her before, that I’ll be the first, stirs a primal satisfaction within me.

“I see,” I murmur, stepping back just enough to look at her. “Have you ever even kissed a man before today?”

She shakes her head, her face flushed with embarrassment. It’s almost too good to believe. She’s untouched, innocent in ways I hadn’t expected.

I lean in again, my breath hot against her neck. “Then I’ll be the one to ruin you.”

Her body tenses, but she doesn’t move away. She’s afraid, I can tell, but there’s something else there too. Anticipation. Curiosity. I can see it in the way her eyes dart to my lips, the way her breath comes faster now, shallow and shaky.

I reach down, letting the dress slip off her shoulders, revealing her soft, pale skin. Her chest rises and falls rapidly as the fabric pools at her feet, leaving her standing there in nothing but her undergarments.

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