Page 66 of Stolen By the Don

The conversation continues as I edge closer, stopping after a few feet and pressing my back to the wall, staying just out of sight.

Leo’s voice cuts through. “And once you find him? What then?”

There’s a moment of silence where the only sound is my heart pounding so loudly I fear they’ll hear it. Then Roman answers, his voice colder than anything I’ve heard. “I kill him.”

My breath catches, and my hand flies to my mouth to muffle the gasp. His response shouldn’t surprise me. He’s said it more times than I can count…that his end goal is killing my father.A life for a life.

Yet, hearing it aloud, not as a response to my taunts, tears something inside me. I bite my lip as tears fill my ears, forcing them to stay hidden.

Leo speaks again, quieter this time. “And Isabella? You think she’ll forgive you for killing her father?”

My pulse jumps.Me?I’ve never really thought about it. What would I do if Roman killed my father? Could I forgive him, even if he proves that it was just?

As the questions fill my head, I wait. I wait, holding my breath for Roman’s answer. “Why should that matter?” he asks gruffly.

Again, I expected it. He never once asked for my opinion or cared to know what I’d do if he took away the last family I had. But expecting it doesn’t make it hurt less. Tears bloom afresh,stinging my eyes until my vision blurs, but I refuse to let them fall.

I bite my lip harder until the metallic taste of blood fills my mouth.

“Get a grip,” I whisper to myself. “You’re not some weak thing. You don’t cry over men like Roman Volkov. Not anymore.” Roman. My father. I’m done caring about what they do and tailoring my emotions to their actions.

I inhale deeply, swallowing thickly. “I’m okay,” I mutter. “I’m okay.”

It still stings, and I bury my hands under my sweater, gripping the bottom as I turn. I’ve barely taken two steps when I hear Leo ask?—

“Will you let her go, then? You said you were going to make her your wife. You’ve done that. It was to spite Marco. Then you said you’d make her the mother of your children. Who will that be for, Roman?You?”

“I’ll let you give my message to Marco Ricci. Tell him that I intend to marry his daughter and that she will be pregnant with my heir by this time next month.”

Those were the exact words he said in the cathedral. He wasn’t going to just marry me—I had to carry his heir.

My palm covers my stomach possessively as the thought of being pregnant with Roman’s child slips into my head.

A girl. Smart. Stubborn. Fearless.

A boy. Strong. Brave. Courageous.

No. I shake my head vigorously, pushing the thought away with venom. What am I thinking? His baby? His kids? A harsh laugh peels past my lips, and I don’t bother muffling it. I’d die before I let Roman continue his lineage through me. I’d rather return to that field and die of dehydration before I let a child grow in his world.

At least Boris Glazastov’s son was a tool to unite both families. He was never going to be at the helm of anything.

But Roman? Roman Volkov, who everyone fears. Even my father, or he wouldn’t have gone into hiding.

“So?” Leo echoes his question. “Is she still useful after you’ve carried out your revenge?”

The silence that follows doesn’t startle me. Not anymore. It doesn’t even tug at my curiosity. I’ve already heard enough—more than enough.

My hands drop limply to my sides, and I start walking again, slowly, one step at a time.

“I need her.”

The words crash into me. My body freezes mid-step, and my head jerks toward the living room, breath caught in my throat. That couldn’t have been real.

I must’ve imagined it, or conjured the words in some pathetic, desperate hope that I still mean something to him beyond being a pawn in his bloody mission.

I wait. Just a second longer. But there’s nothing. Swallowing the lump rising in my throat, I sigh and turn toward the kitchen, convincing myself I heard only what I wanted to hear.

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