Page 24 of Owned By the Russian

But of course, she didn’t know that. And even if she did, it wouldn’t make a damn difference.

She was angry and betrayed, and she had every reason to be. But Ilya wasn’t there to coddle her emotions. He was there to make sure she was safe. And if that meant keeping her against her will, then he would do it a thousand times.

He wasn’t about to let her slip through his fingers now. Not when he just got her. Not when he knew that the world outside was a far more dangerous place than she could ever imagine.

Sure, she was free to decide if she wanted this arrangement or not, but he was too consumed by his obsession and possessiveness of her to let go. Not after those dicks were so close to having her.

Keeping her against her will was the only way she’d truly be safe, which is what he wanted to prioritize even above her feelings and opinions. No matter how much they mattered to him, this mattered more. But she wouldn’t understand it. She would never.

“I hate you,” she spat for the fifth time since their journey away from his bachelor pad began. Her voice was shaking with fury. “And I hate that my ownfatherwould do this to me.”

Ilya glanced at her briefly, his lips curling into a faint, bitter smile. She could kick him and slap him for all he cared. It wouldn’t change the fact that he had her where he wanted.

Right next to him.

“You’re free to decide whether you want this arrangement or not, Valentina. But the bittersweet truth is, you don’t have a choice anymore.”

She turned to face him, her eyes blazing. Anger rolled off her in waves, but at least he had her attention. “You’re kidnapping me, Ilya. That’s what this is.Kidnapping.”

He shrugged, nonchalantly steering the car around a curve. “Call it whatever you like. Do whatever you like. Kick me. Hit me. Shoot me. It won’t change anything. But you’ll thank me later.”

His words were dismissive, almost casual, but there was an underlying certainty in his tone. He wasn’t just speaking from arrogance; he was speaking from the hard truth that neither of them wanted to admit.

His grip tightened on the steering wheel, the leather creaking under the pressure, as he allowed the truth to sink in—he couldn’t let her go. He wouldn’t. She was his responsibility now, and he didn’t take that lightly.

No, he wasn’t some slacker who’d leave things to chance. He’d go to the ends of the earth to keep her safe, to keep her here. With him.

She may resent it now, may hate him for it, but she wasn’t going anywhere. Not while he was breathing. Not while he had any say in the matter.

For a moment, a tense silence between them, heavy and dark as a thundercloud, filling the car like a third passenger. Neither spared the other a glance, both neck-deep in their own thoughts. The hum of the engine and the occasional rattle of the car on the uneven road were the only sounds, but even those felt muted under the weight of their shared tension.

Ilya leaned back in his seat slightly, his grip on the steering wheel loosening just enough to release the tension in his fingers. A quiet sigh escaped him, barely audible over the steady hum of the engine.

Frustration etched across his face, his brows knitting together as he stared down the endless, twisting road ahead. He knew she’d be mad, but he had expected the drive to settle her nerves, to give her the time and space to cool off, but he should have known better. Valentina wasn’t the type to let things go so easily.

Glancing out of the corner of his eye, he saw her arms crossed tightly over her chest, her body angled away from him. She sat rigid in her seat, the heat of her anger almost palpable, rising with every twist and turn of the road, with every second he spent behind the steering wheel.

Her silence wasn’t passive?it was active, simmering, like a pot ready to blow over. The occasional huff of frustration and the subtle tapping of her foot against the floor betrayed her internal turmoil. Ilya could almost hear her thoughts as if they were spoken aloud, each one adding another layer to the storm brewing inside her.

The car jolted as he took a sharp turn on the winding mountain road, the tires skidding slightly on loose gravel. Valentina gripped the door handle so tightly that her knuckles turned white, her other hand braced against the dashboard.

“Are you trying to kill us, or does your driving just naturally suck?” she snapped, her voice cutting through the crunch of rocks beneath the tires.

Ilya glanced at her, arching a brow. “Calm down. I’ve done this drive a hundred times. We’re not going off a cliff.”

“Don’t tell me to calm down,” she replied through gritted teeth, her voice lowering to a near murmur. “Nevertell a woman to calm down.” Her face turned pale from the constant twists and turns. “These roads are ridiculous, and you’re acting like we’re in a fucking street race. Could you maybe drive like a normal person for once?”

“Don’t tell me you can’t handle a little drive, Valentina.”

He saw her left eye twitch, a telltale sign that her patience was wearing thinner than the tension between them. Then came the scoff?a sharp, dismissive sound. With an exaggerated flip of her hair, she turned her head, her voice dripping with indignance. “Excuse me for trying not to get killed because of your reckless driving.”

Ilya’s lips twitched, caught somewhere between a smirk and a grimace. His fingers tapped the steering wheel rhythmically before he muttered, “If I wanted you dead, I would’ve let those guys finish you off back there.”

Valentina scoffed again, this time colder, more biting. A rancid chuckle slipped from her lips, her head tilting slightly as if to look at him out of the corner of her eye. “I would’ve handled them just fine, thank you very much.”

Ilya let out a low hum of disbelief, a humorless sound that barely qualified as a laugh. His jaw clenched as he glanced her way, his voice low and edged with sarcasm. “Sure, because being outnumbered a dozen to one is such a great strategy.”

Her eyes narrowed, heat flaring in her gaze as she whipped her head toward him. “What? You don’t think I can handle myself? Is that it?”

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