Chapter 3- New prison

"Tell me, Bella, how was it? Was the guy hot?" Sofia asked immediately as soon as Isabella entered the room.

"Yeah…" Isabella smiled shyly while tucking her hair at the back of her ear as Nikolai's face flashed across her mind.

"Wait, don't tell me you guys did it already?" Sofia gasped in shock, her palms over her mouth.

Isabella's face turned crimson red from embarrassment, slowly nodding.

When Isabella kissed Nikolai, things escalated so fast between them. He had lifted her on his torso and within a few minutes, they were already in a VIP room, their clothes flying across the room. Nikolai stood topless, with only his undies on, and he was towering above her, kissing her until she was out of her breath.

Isabella, too, was returning the kiss, kissing him not rough but moving with his pace.

Just then, he had lifted her on his torso again, his arm muscles bulging and threw her on the bed. He expertly unhooked her bra and used one of his hands on her breast to pinch her nipples, he sucked each one of them as he swirled his tongue on it, alternating between them, providing equal attention to both, and her body subconsciously arched as she let out a soft moan.

"Bella," Sofia called out a little louder, waving her hands before her face. She had been calling her for some time already.

Isabella hid her face in the blanket in embarrassment.

"Wow, I can't believe you have finally lost your virginity girl!" Sofia exclaimed proudly beside Isabella. "I guess he was great," she teased.

Isabella nodded dreamily, though deep down she felt sad, how she wished that was not the end of their encounter.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

The morning sun rose far too quickly for Isabella’s liking. She sat in the back seat of her father’s Tesla Cybertruck, watching the city blur past her as they headed to her father's private airstrip.

The previous night replayed in her mind like a dream. Nikolai’s broad, muscular chest, his eight-parked abs, and the minty taste of his lips all felt like a good dream, one she didn't want to wake up from. But now, that brief taste of heaven felt like a distant memory.

"Do you have to look so miserable?" her father asked from the seat beside her, his tone clipped snapping her from her thoughts. "You know I’m doing this to keep you alive."

"I didn’t say anything, did I?" Isabella snapped, glaring out of the window.

Alessandro sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I know. I only want you to understand that Papa loves you so much and will do everything to keep you safe," he said clasping her hands in his protectively.

"Bella, my daughter, I know this ain't easy for you, and neither is it for us. Your father and I will make sure everything is settled as soon as possible, but in the meantime, take care of yourself for us sweetheart," her mother uttered as she wiped the tears from the corners of her eyes.

Isabella crossed her arms, refusing to utter a single word to them. She knew they were trying to protect her, but that didn’t make it any easier to accept.

On arrival at the airstrip, a sleek private jet waited for her on the tarmac. A man in a black suit and sunglasses stood near the steps, his expression unreadable.

"This is Roman," her father said, gesturing to the man. "He’ll take you to the island and ensure you get settled."

"And what about you and mom?" she finally asked, turning to face them. "What will happen to you while I’m gone?"

"We will be fine," he replied firmly. "Focus on keeping yourself safe. That’s all we are asking of you."

With a resigned sigh, she hugged them both goodbye before she stepped into the jet, Roman following close behind with her luggage. As the plane took off, Isabella closed her eyes, as bitter tears fell down her eyes, a deep ache from the loss of her unfulfilled dream, the Bella Versailles.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

The island was nothing like Isabella had imagined. Surrounded by crystal-clear waters and lush greenery, it was the epitome of paradise. But to her, it felt more like a cage.

Roman escorted her from the dock to a sprawling villa on a hill overlooking the ocean. The interior was sleek and modern, with high ceilings, floor-to-ceiling windows, and luxurious furnishings which Isabella barely noticed.

"This will be your home for the next few months until everything is settled," Roman spoke to her for the first time, his tone as cold as ice. "You’ll have everything you need here. Food, clothes, security."

"Security?" she asked, arching an eyebrow. "Am I supposed to feel safe in the middle of nowhere with a stranger who can't even start up a proper conversation?"

Roman didn’t bother answering. Instead, he opened the double doors leading to the villa’s grand living room, where a man stood with his back to them, gazing out at the ocean.

The air in the room shifted, the temperature rising by a few degrees. Isabella felt her heart skip as the man turned, his piercing blue eyes locking onto hers.

It was him. The stranger from last night in the nightclub. Nikolai.

"You..." she breathed, her voice barely audible.

Nikolai’s lips curved into a faint, humourless smirk. "Welcome to my island, Isabella. It's nice to meet you."

Isabella's mind reeled. What the hell was that for crying out loud sake? He was the owner of the island? And now, he controlled her world. A part of her felt happy that she had met him again, but that's not how she had hoped to meet him, like a charity case!

"What the hell is this?" she demanded, turning to Roman. "Is this some kind of joke?"

Roman remained silent, but Nikolai stepped forward, his presence commanding. "It’s no joke, young lady. Your father arranged for you to stay here, and I agreed to keep you safe. But let me make one thing clear, you will follow my rules while you’re here."

She bristled at his tone. He acted like he didn't remember her at all, like he wasn't the man that she had shared the most passionate time of her life and lost her virginity to twelve hours ago. "I don’t take orders from anyone."

"You do now," he said, his voice cold. "This isn’t a vacation, princess. It’s survival."

Isabella’s hands curled into fists as a surge of defiance rose within her. All her life she had been pampered and spoiled by her parents, but with the tone he was using on her, she felt like a prisoner.

"You think you can intimidate me?" she shot back, meeting his icy gaze. "I’ve dealt with men like you before."

Nikolai’s smirk died, replaced by something darker. He stepped closer, his voice low and dangerous. "You have no idea who I am. Or what I’m capable of, princess. But you’ll learn soon enough."

Isabella flinched at his outburst. The man before her wasn't the sweet, smooth talking Nikolai that she met last night at the nightclub, the man who had taken her to heaven and back severally. He was Nikolai Volkol, the Don, kingpin of the Russian underworld.