Page 14 of Stolen By the Don

He opens his mouth, but I cut in, raising my hand sharply. “Before you say the house is ‘big enough,’ I want you to think about something.” My voice softens, almost trembling—Oscar-worthy. “You took me from my wedding, Roman. You pulled me from everything familiar and brought me to an undisclosed location.”

I hold his gaze. “Unless you plan to keep me locked up like some ghost bride no one’s allowed to see or hear, I think I deserve some kind of normalcy.”

I don’t give him a chance to cut in.

“Also,” I add quickly, “if you’re serious about this whole ‘marriage’ thing, you really don’t want people whispering that your wife only exists behind closed doors.” I tilt my head slightly,my voice dipping into something like teasing. “Unless that’s the look you’re going for?”

Roman’s response after I’m done is silence that stretches on forever. His eyes scan me slowly, calculatingly, like he’s peeling back every layer of my performance.

Avoiding his gaze, as unnerving as it is, will give me away, so I square my shoulders and widen my eyes. His gaze lingers on my face, then drops briefly to my arms.

He shifts his weight slightly, arms still folded across his chest, and when he rubs his chin, I think he might actually give in. Then his mouth tugs downward, the slightest frown curling at the edge. His voice is flat. Final.

“No.”

No?!

“What do you mean, no?”

“No,” he repeats.

I nod. “Yeah, I heard you. The single word was loud and clear. But I need to know why. I have a right to leave, don’t I? This isn’t Beauty and the freaking Beast.”

His expression doesn’t waver, not even when I take a step closer. “Unless you’re some type of sick, twisted man who thinks women don’t have rights, then let me go out. Like I said, you can send as many men along as you want. I don’t care.” I shrug, implying my nonchalance.

A ghost smile touches his lips as he shakes his head. “I’ve had men locked in places without light for less offenses, IsabellaRicci. And now I’m convinced that your father did a terrible job of teaching you how to get what you want.”

“Either that…” He clicks his tongue. “Or the people you think it worked on were just plain stupid.”

That’s it. I’m done. I toss my hands in the air. “I tried reasoning with you, and it didn’t work. Don’t blame me if I find another way out.”

“Escape?” he asks as I’m about to make a dramatic exit.

Escape?I did think about running away, but the thought didn’t last longer than the first day he brought me here. Now I plan to destroy everything he owns from the inside out. But for now—I face him, staring into his eyes as I wait for something to give.

Maybe a half-second lack of confidence in his ability to restrain me in this house? “Are you scared?” I ask, shaking my head with as much cockiness as I can muster. “That I’ll find a way?”

“No,” he replies flatly. “My men have orders to shoot you if you try to escape.”

Shoot?!

“You’re—” I exhale shakily as shock pours through my system. “You’re a monster.”

Sergei walks in and pauses when he sees us. He clears his throat awkwardly. “I’m sorry. I’ll wait outside.”

“No,” Roman stops him. “I’m ready. Let’s go.”

Like that, I become some forgotten relic, standing in the living room with steam pouring out of my ears as he walks away.

Shoot me?

I’ve come across men with no regard for human life before. I’ve watched them take the lives of other men without a shred of emotion.

But Roman? Roman Volkov is the devil, and I’m trapped in his lair.

5

ROMAN

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