Page 50 of Stolen By the Don

“I have something for you,” he says in a hushed whisper.

“I have no idea what possessed you to reach out, Billie, but it’d better be good.”

“Oh—” His whisper carries urgency. “It is. I found out, from a reliable source, where Marco is. I verified it, of course, before calling. I’m not sure how long he’ll be there?—”

I cut off his rambling. “Spill.”

My fingers clamp down on the steering wheel as I slice through traffic, weaving recklessly between cars. My knuckles bleach white, my mouth set in a grim line carved by pure rage.

Marco Ricci. Of all places to show his face again—an orphanage. Typical. A coward hiding behind the helpless, hoping the setting would keep the fight from reaching him.

It won’t.

I’m going to walk through those doors and drag him out, bleeding or half dead, to the place where he’ll finally meet the end he deserves. Not even a convent of nuns would be enough to shield him from me.

I weave past a car, almost clipping it as my concentration slips for a moment when my phone rings. I let it go to voicemail as I step on the gas, driving faster and breaking the speed limit. It rings out again, and I groan, digging into my pocket for it.

Leo’s name flashes on the screen, but another car slams on their horn, and the phone falls from my hand, dropping to my feet.

I can’t reach for it. Not now. Leo’s going to have to handle shit on his end. I could’ve told him about my plan, but I didn’t want to play into Marco’s hand…bringing undue violence to the orphanage.

He expects me to bring a group and stir up chaos. But he’s missed one vital thing—Icraverevenge. It’s my driving force, and until he’s no longer breathing, I don’t plan on backing down.

As the orphanage compound comes into view, I slow down, stopping a short distance from a small structure.

As I exit the car, my phone rings again, and it’s still Leo.

I swipe up. “Yes?”

“Where are you?”

A nun walks out of the building. “Somewhere. Why?”

“This isn’t the time for vague answers, Roman. I stopped by the store, and you’d left. Where are you?”

I take a step toward the building. “I’ll fill you in later,” I say.

“There’s no later. Isabella just called me.”

“Isabella?” My eyes narrow as I see a man walk out, his eyes immediately trained on me.

I see, before he shows it, the gun tucked into his jacket. Then he points to the nun and makes a motion, putting two fingers to his head and pulling the trigger.

“Wherever you are, leave.” I hear Leo’s voice from far away. “You’re in danger, Roman.”

15

ISABELLA

I wake up with a throbbing headache and the sun shining brightly through the open drapes. Polina. There’s no doubt it was her—she must’ve walked in while I was knocked out.

I wonder why she didn’t try waking me up, though. Probably because she saw how much of a shitstorm went down during dinner last night and decided that her plans to bring Roman and me together were futile.

“Shit,” I groan as I drag myself out of bed, almost falling back from the pain that stabs deep into my skull.

Why does it feel like I drank too much?I didn’t. All I did was spend an ungodly amount of time crying and then throwing up, then crying some more and more bile. I thought about showering, but I’m not sure I went through with it. Because all I remember after flushing the toilet was dragging myself to bed and pulling the covers over my head, pretending that I was somewhere far away where nothing could get to me.

Somewhere in the middle of playing pretend, I fell asleep.

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