Page 43 of Stolen By the Don

Roman’s accusation. His promise to end my father.

If Dad knew that Roman was coming, it could explain why he had to run. But I’ve never known him to run away from a fight. He was the one who told me that I shouldn’t let a rival see weakness, because they’ll know they have the upper hand.

Why would he run away instead of facing Roman, unless he knew he’d done something abominable?

“No.” I shake my head, refusing the thought. My father didn’t kill Roman’s father. He wouldn’t. Unless he had a good reason. “Nico?”

“Miss Ricci?”

I hesitate, unable to get the words past my lips. The truth is, I’m scared. I want to believe that Roman made it up because he couldn’t accept that his father died for any other reason. I want him to be wrong.

On the other hand, I thought I knew my father, but he gave me to a stranger and then disappeared. After my mother’s death and his failed relationship with Nico, I have so many unanswered questions.

“Did my dad kill Roman Volkov’s father?”

The silence that meets my question on the other end feels too heavy for my fingers. They shake as I struggle to hold the phone, and I can hear my heart pounding in my ears.

“Nico?” I can barely hear my voice. “Nico?”

“We’re going to get you out of there.”

That’s not what I asked. That’s not what I wanted. “How?” I ask, letting him get away with the subject change.

He clears his throat. “You don’t have to know the details. But we will need to take Roman out of the playing field before we come for you. There’s no telling what plans he has or the traps he’s laid out.”

Take him out? My eyebrows creep up. Surely they don’t mean…

“Are you going to kill him?”

“You don’t have to worry about that. Just stay put, okay? I promise we’ll get you out of there. Your father wanted me to tell you he’s thinking about you,” Nico says.

Lies. Lies. Lies! I want to scream, but I do what I did before—bite the inside of my cheek as I inhale slowly. “Okay.”

“Good. I’ll talk to you some other time.”

The line goes dead before I can say anything, and I let the phone fall from my hand, watching it bounce as it hits the bed. I follow suit as my knees suddenly go immobile, losing their strength.

I should be happy. I’m finally getting out of here, and my father, even though I suspect Nico added that last message on his own, didn’t completely neglect me. Roman will be getting his due for everything he’s done. I might not have orchestrated it myself as I wanted to, but it’s happening either way.

So I should be relieved.

And yet, I’m not.

I can only think about Roman dying at the hands of the man whomighthavekilled his father.

13

ISABELLA

I find Roman in the kitchen the next morning, drinking coffee. He pauses when he sees me, the mug hanging halfway between his lips and the counter, his eyes briefly assessing my appearance.

“Good morning,” he says.

Oh.It wasn’t exactly a typical wedding night, but I expected him to either ignore me or come up with a remark to piss me off.

“Good morning,” I mutter, turning away from him to the fridge. I grab a bottle of water and tuck it under my arm, heading back toward the door. Since I can’t leave the house and I’m not in the mood for breakfast, my only solution is to get more sleep.

“I’ve asked Sergei to drive you.”

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