Page 16 of Owned By the Russian

“What the hell was that?” she demanded, her voice sharp. “Who were those men?”

Ilya sat back, the tension in his posture unrelenting. “Hired guns,” he replied flatly, his gaze fixed outside the window like he was expecting more to appear.

Her brows furrowed. “For who? You?”

He finally turned to her, his face blank but his eyes dark. “No, Valentina. Not me, but you.”

Valentina stared at him, her blood running cold as his words reverberated in her ears. “What?”

“You heard me,” he said, his tone almost dismissive. “When I arrived, I met them waiting to ambush you. You’ve been marked. They weren’t there for me—they were there because someone wants you dead.”

For a moment, she was speechless, her mind trying and failing to process his words. Literally and figuratively, it made no sense that someone would want her dead. As far as she knew, her father had no open enemies. The Romanos remained at peace with everyone, so why the hell wouldshebe targeted?

“That’s not possible,” she said, her voice dropping to a whisper as she shook her head. “Why would anyone—”

She trailed off, trying to connect the dots, but it still didn’t make sense. Nothing did.

“Take me home,” she demanded, her chest tight. “My family needs to know about this.”

His response was instant. “No.”

Val turned to him, glaring incredulously. “Excuse me? What the hell do you mean, no?”

“I mean exactly that,” he replied, his tone unbothered. “You’re not going back to your family estate.”

If it were in any other instance, Val may have laughed and entertained his antics. But she just had a close run-in with death and was too shaken by it to entertain Ilya’s bullshit.

She slammed her hand against the door, her frustration boiling and spilling over. “Turn this car around right fucking now, Ilya. Get me out now.”

But she was talking to the wind because he ignored her completely.

Fuming, Val reached for the door handle, not caring that they were on the highway, but the locks clicked automatically. “What the—are you serious?” she growled, tugging at the handle uselessly.

“Dead serious,” he said without so much as a glance her way.

Val’s hands balled into fists so hard her knuckles turned ashen white. She felt like ripping her hair out from frustration. Gritting her teeth, she yanked his gun and pointed it at his head.

“Turn this car around right now, Ilya Nikolai, or I swear to God I will blow your fucking brains out.”

A smirk lifted the corner of his lips—the most emotion he’d shown since they fled to the car. “Pull the trigger, Princess. See how far that gets you.”

Val scoffed, her eyes wide. “You’re insane,” she hissed, flicking the safety off with a sharp click. But he didn’t even flinch. Instead, he leaned back, unnervingly calm, one hand steady on the wheel as though her threat was nothing but background noise.

After a moment, she lowered the weapon and tossed it to the backseat. By the time he pulled into a dimly lit parking lot, she was seething.

He killed the engine as she looked out the window, his eyes on her the entire time.

“Where are we?” she asked, her voice low, tainted with anger.

“My place.”

Valentina chuckled darkly, screwing her eyes shut tightly like she was trying not to lose her mind. She snapped them open, shooting daggers at him.

“You really do have some goddammed nerve, Ilya.”

“Tell me something I don’t know,” he said, stepping out and slamming the door shut. He leaned down to look at her through the open window, his expression hard as he met her still form on the seat. “This is the only safe place for now. Get out of the car, Valentina.”

She stayed put, arms crossed like a petulant child, glaring at him. “Make me.”

---