Page 58 of Stolen By the Don

I let Roman touch me, knowing I wasn’t just giving access to my body but my heart.

I knew he was cruel, but I craved it anyway.

That’s what I regret.

“It’s happened,” I murmur, rising and heading to the bathroom. “It’s in the past,” I tell my reflection as I stare at it, looking into eyes that resemble mine. “I know better.”

It might’ve taken getting tossed away and being reminded that I don’t deserve his emotions to get my head on right, but I’m smarter now.

Shrugging my clothes off, I sink into the bathtub until the water covers my body. It’s hot, almost to the point of scalding, but I lean back, closing my eyes and taking it in. It sinks into my body, stripping away Roman’s touch—as much of it as possible.

I know much of it will remain in my mind, but for tonight, I’ll pretend like everything’s fine.

When the water turns cold, I step out and grab a towel, wrapping it around my body. I’m tired…too tired to do anything, so I climb onto the bed, tucking myself in with my towel still on.

Somehow, Roman doesn’t plague my thoughts, and I fall asleep quickly.

I wakeup to the sun on my face, my head throbbing, and my stomach grumbling. Tossing on a shirt and sweats, I head down to get breakfast from the kitchen, only to find Leo conversing with Polina.

When I walk in, he notices my presence, and the conversation stops.

“Isabella,” he says as his brows dip slightly while he studies my appearance. “Good morning.”

At least he didn’t call me Mrs. Volkov. Funny how I went from claiming Roman’s last name to ditching it in less than twenty-four hours.

“Good morning,” I mutter, dragging my feet to the fridge for water. I grab a bottle and turn to Polina. “Is there anything to eat?”

She nods. “Yes, ma’am. I was going to bring it to your room, but I thought I’d let you sleep in a bit longer.”

My mouth drops in surprise.

Polina? Let me sleep in? If anything, I expected her to have the curtains drawn before I woke up or to see her standing at the foot of my bed with a quiet, displeased look as she adds to the list of my offenses.

“Well…” I shrug. “Thank you.” I deserve some extra kindness after the night I had.

“Where would you like to eat?”

Another odd question. “Here.” I walk to the island, positioning myself. She heads to the stove while I take a swig from the bottle, placing it uncovered on the counter.

“Are you feeling alright?” Leo asks me.

I nod without glancing up. “Yeah. Why?”

“Nothing.”

His tone isn’t convincing, and something about how he says it pulls at my nerves. I glance at him then—just a flick of my eyes—but it’s enough. He’s watching me with a vague, almost guarded concern, like he’s trying to read something between the lines of my silence.

“If I look like I didn’t get much sleep, that’s because I didn’t,” I say, my voice sharper than intended. The quiet tension makes me feel exposed, as if he already knows something I’m missing.

He probably heard the conversation from last night. Before Roman kissed me, he told Leo he needed to speak with me alone—so Leo walked into the house, not out of it.

And if he heard the argument after, then he must’ve known we were having sex.

Come to think of it… My fork hangs in midair. Polina would’ve heard too.

What do they think of me, letting myself go for a man who made it clear, several times, that I am his trophy bride? After my dramatic protest of wearing black to my wedding and the accusations I hurled at Polina, after running away and failing, I let Roman touch me.

“Worst.” I stab the eggs. “Mistake.” I stab again. “Of. My. Life.”

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