Page 1 of Owned By the Russian

Chapter 1 - Valentina

Her six-inch heels echoed loudly against the pavement, their pointed tips sharp enough to gouge out a man’s eye. Maybe that was another reason she chose this pair tonight—a deadly edge to complement the silver-plated Glock 43 strapped securely to her thigh.

Still, Valentina felt assured she wouldn’t need either weapon tonight. She was attending a Nikolai family gathering, after all. Nothing ever went wrong at events hosted by the powerful Bratva family—not with the sheer number of armed guards stationed around the compound, their eagle vision scanning every corner.

Yet, her father’s words never failed to echo in her mind, a constant reminder: “Semprepreparata,tesoro.Maidiremai.”Always be ready, Sweetheart. Never say never.

The obsidian sky loomed over the sprawling estate, its stone façade glowing under the soft luminescence of the moon. Valentina ascended the never-ending steps that led to the grand front door of the Nikolai mansion—each step more purposeful than the last—in an attempt to get out of the icy wind that bit at her exposed skin and the low hum of idling engines behind.

A line of sharply dressed guards flanked the grand entrance, their stone gazes unwavering and colder than the wind. Guests were required to step forward one at a time, surrendering weapons at a polished ebony table manned by Paolo, the stern-faced security chief.

As soon as Valentina approached, the most intimidating guard stepped forward.

“Name,” he demanded, his voice sharp as steel, drawing out the metal detector with a deliberate flick, like unsheathing a blade.

Valentina lifted her chin, leveling him with an equally stern gaze. “Valentina Romano.”

The guard’s eyes narrowed, scrutinizing her as though weighing the weight of her name. Valentina clenched her jaw—an attempt to fight a grin at the sight of him subtly checking her out.

He took a step closer, the faint hum of the detector filling the charged silence.

“Show me your hands,” he ordered, his tone low but firm.

Without wasting a second, Valentina extended her hands, palms up, steady as a rock. Then, with deliberate defiance, she curled her fingers back into her palms, leaving her middle fingers raised high.

Her blood-red acrylic nails gleamed under the sharp overhead lights, their sharp edges glinting like freshly honed blades.

The corner of her mouth lifted into a teasing smirk. “Satisfied?”

Kostya Nikolai broke character at her predictable stunt, his stoic façade cracking as his signature flirtatious smile slid into place. “You never disappoint, do you?” he teased, his dark eyes glinting with amusement as he lowered the metal detector. “Do you practice that, or is it just natural talent?”

Valentina shrugged with a grin. “What can I say? I guess I’m full of surprises. But I’ll let you in on the secretafterI put something in my stomach. If you haven’t noticed, I’m starving.”

“You didn’t eat before coming?” Kostya tsked, his Russian accent slipping through his words. “And here I was, thinking you’re different from everyone else who’s just here for the food—and, well, other things they can leech on.”

Valentina pointed at her stomach. “I couldn’t afford eating. Not if I wanted to fit in this dress.” She paused, her gaze sharpening. “But hey, at least I’m not the one forced to be on guard duty while the rest of my family wines and dines inside.”

Kostya chuckled, a flicker of approval in his eyes. “I’ll only let that slide because you look good in that dress. You’ve just given my brother another subject for his wet dreams, and you know which brother I’m talking about.”

The indirect reference to Ilya Nikolai made Valentina grimace. “Please. Don’t make me barf.”

One of the doors pushed open, interrupting their conversation, and then Irina Nikolai’s slim body smuggled through the tiny gap she created.

“There you are!” she exclaimed, eyes alight as soon as they landed on Valentina. “Rhi’s been waiting all night for you to show up. And God, do you look sexy in that dress. I’d definitely do you if I didn’t get wet for the other gender.”

Kostya sighed, stepping aside for his sister to pass through. “Can you at least pretend to have a little decorum outside?”

Irina cinched her arm around Valentina’s and led her forward. “Don’t act like you haven’t got a dirtier mouth than mine.” She turned to her friend with a wolfish grin. “He’s been pretending to be sad about being on duty tonight, but he’d lowkey happy to be here so he can stare at every woman’s tits before they go in.”

“I can stare atanytits I want whether I’m inside or not.”

Valentina shook her head and chuckled. “Just when I think men can’t get any more disgusting, you go ahead and do that.”

A sarcastic smile touched Irina’s lips. “And people ask why I turned out like this when I have three more of his type as brothers. Speaking of brothers, Fedya and Viktor have been waiting for you.” One of the guards pulled the doors open for them to go in. “Viktor mentioned some kind of bet you have going on with them?”

The first thing that reached Val’s ears as soon as they stepped into the grand ballroom was the soft waltz of a string quartet. They were at the corner of the room, their bows dancing gracefully across their instruments.

The air buzzed with low murmurs and clinks of crystal glasses as guests and other members of the family gathered together. The room was alive with conversations mingling, polished but guarded. Servants moved like ghosts, refilling champagne glasses and clearing plates without uttering a word.

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