Page 93 of Stolen By the Don

“No!” I yell as my bags drop to the ground, kicking my legs out and clawing with my fingers, trying to break free. “Let me go!” I scream, biting hard on the rubber glove. “Let me go!”

I’m shoved into the van, a sack shoved over my head, and it speeds off.

But I don’t stop fighting. I yank the sack off my head, whirling around to face the men behind me. Two of them—one larger than the other.

“Let me go,” I snarl. “Or I swear you’ll regret it. Do you know who I am?” I hiss when they don’t answer. “I’m Isabella Volkov. I’m married to Roman Volkov, you pieces of shit!”

“Quick to abandon your father’s name, are you?” the smaller one with a rugged race sneers. “How typical. I wonder if he’ll be disappointed.”

My father? I frown. Why would they care about my father? How do they know who I am?

“Your father sent us,” the larger one explains as he leans closer. The smell of rank sweat and bleach makes me gag. “You can stop fighting.”

I scoff. “My father would never do that. He abandoned me the moment he sold me off to be married. I don’t know who you’re working for, but I suggest you let me go right now. If you want to keep your tongues in your mouths.”

The smaller one bares his teeth, and I see a row of cheap metal. “Try it, printsessa.He said to bring you. He never specified what condition.”

Printsessa.My ears burn with rage. How dare he? Only Roman gets to call me that. “Try it.” My lips spread in a thin smile. “And see what happens. Even if my father sent you, you’re no more useful to him than a subdued dog. He’ll put you down the second he sees you’ve outlived your usefulness.”

That takes the smugness from him real quick.

But it also confirms what he said—that my father sent them. I turn back, puzzled. Why would he want me, now of all times? He wasn’t present when I almost got married. It didn’t matter to him when I got kidnapped, and he didn’t care when I got married to Roman.

It feels like an ugly setup.

Whatever he wants, he’ll find that I’ve become a much different person since we last met.

He looks the same.Much leaner, a lot scruffier, and less respectable, but my father looks pretty much the same as he walks into the room where the men left me.

“What is this?” I ask, mocking him. “You couldn’t pick a better place—it had to be a laundromat?”

“Good to see you, Bella,” he says with a throaty rasp. “You’ve changed.”

Yeah, no shit. “I went through some life-changing events,” I retort. “And you ran underground, cutting off your only child when she needed you the most.”

He pulls up a chair and sets it before me, lowering himself onto it. “I had no other choice. It was the only way to protect you. To protect our family.”

God. I grit my teeth at his speech. Months ago, I might’ve believed his crap. Now, I roll my eyes. “Spare me the excuses, Dad. We both know it was all for you. You’ve insulted my intelligence long enough, but don’t do it anymore. I’m not thesame person you abandoned in a cathedral because you found me to be the perfect pawn.”

My father sighs as he shakes his head slowly. “You don’t understand how these things work, Bella,” he says gently, but it sounds like he’s explaining it to a toddler. “Why would you think I’d abandon you? Can’t you see? It was all part of my plan.”

His plan.

I might put my fist through his mouth if I sit here any longer.

“Roman Volkov is a threat against our family. I needed him gone, and I knew you could do the job.”

I pinch my fingers to the bridge of my nose as I exhale. When I lift my head again, every trace of civility is gone. The pretense, the tolerance…all gone. “Is he a threat against our family, or did you kill his father, and he’s only retaliating?”

“What did he tell you?”

“What did you do?”

“He’s a liar,” he argues as his face turns ugly. “Just like his father. These people only care about themselves while they use us as pawns.”

“Don’t!” I yell as I stand, my shoulders trembling in rage. “Don’t you dare gaslight me. You ran from Italy, begging his father for help. And yet you turned around and killed him.”

Disgust pours through my words, and I jab my finger at him so he feels every single one. “You’re everything you taught me not to be. You tricked me into agreeing to marry someone I barely knew. You told me you were training me to take over from you, but you never planned on doing that.”

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