Page 52 of Stolen By the Don

Nico’s silence stretches longer than usual, making the tension in my chest grow.

“I deserve to know something, at least!” I snap, frustration bursting out of me. “If you were going to keep me in the dark, you shouldn’t have called.”

“He’s a friend of your father’s. He once asked for your hand in marriage, but your father felt marriage to the Glazastov was a better option for everyone.”

Oh. I see.I shake my head as a mirthless, hollow laugh escapes. “Marriage? Everyone? I was a bargaining tool, and I wasn’t even asked?” Nico doesn’t answer, but I know the truth already, so I don’t push. “Why is he agreeing to help now? I doubt he’s pleased that my father sidelined him.”

“Because you’re going to be married to him once Roman is dead.”

The air feels thin, like I’m suffocating, as Nico’s words hang in the air, vibrating in my chest.

“Marry him?” The question escapes me in a whisper, disbelief flooding every inch of my being. “After everything…you’re telling me that once Roman is gone, I’m supposed to marry someone else?”

Nico doesn’t need to confirm it—my stomach has already sunk. The truth slams into me like a freight train, and I stagger back, gripping the edge of the bed for support.

He doesn’t care.I already know this, but god, it stings.My freedom, getting me out of here…nothing matters to Marco Ricci except his agenda. While I was suffering here, he was thinking about his next move. His next power play.

Killing Roman is just a way to put it into effect.

I try to steady myself, my hands trembling, but it’s useless. “You…you think I’m going to just accept this?” My voice rises, trembling with a mix of fury and disbelief. “You think I’ll marry Igor Smirnov? After I agreed to marry some other person I barely knew? Just like that? Like I’m some pawn to be moved around on a chessboard?”

“It’s for your own good,” Nico replies. “He’s a stable man with enough connections to keep your father afloat.”

Fucking Marco Ricci! I see now why Roman talked about putting a bullet through his eyes.

“Once he’s out of the way, I’ll send some men to get you. I’ll be in touch, Miss Ricci.”

“It’s Volkov,” I hiss, but the call has ended.

I toss the phone on the bed as my head burns hot, anger and rage running white through me. I should’ve seen the signs a long time ago.No. I shake my head. I saw them. I just didn’t want to believe it.

Now, my father is going to kill Roman.

I fly across the room and down the stairs with Polina’s name on my tongue. “Polina? Polina?”

She appears.

“Roman.” My heart pounds. “I need you to call Roman.”

“Mr. Volkov?” She frowns. “Is anything the matter?”

Yes. He’s going to die.“No. But I need you to call him now.”

Still confused, she reaches into her pocket and takes out her phone. Then it hits me—I can’t call Roman. He might not believe me, or he might think I’m luring him into a trap.

I’m the last person he’d trust to keep him from getting hurt by my father.

“Leo.” I snap my fingers. “I need you to call Leo instead. Quickly.”

She does so without hesitation, and I snatch the phone from her hand and hear it ring. It rings, on and on, like a countdown toward an execution. “Pick up,” I mutter frantically as I tap my foot. “Pick up, please. Please answer the phone.”

It clicks.

“Hello?”

“Leo?” I don’t waste time with preamble. “Are you with Roman?”

“Isabella? No. Why?”

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