Page 56 of Owned By the Russian

He nodded once. “You have my blessing.”

Valentina sucked in a shaky breath, her fingers unconsciously drifting to her belly. It was like the skies had opened, and rain had finally descended after years of drought. She suddenly felt lighter.

Ilya, on the other hand, took the news with his usual unwavering composure. He simply inclined his head in acknowledgment, but there was a quiet certainty in the way he did it. Like he’d known all along that this was inevitable. That he was always going to have her, no matter what.

Valentina was sure now?he hadn’t come seeking her father’s blessing because heneededit. He had done it out of respect, for tradition, for her. But if the answer had been different, if Lorenzo had denied him, would anything have changed?

She glanced at him again, studying the sharp set of his jaw, the way his fingers rested easily on the table as he finally took a seat. No. He would have married her regardless.

The conversation shifted then?to logistics, wedding dates, formalities. A blur of details Valentina barely processed. Her mind was still tangled in his words, in the way he had seen her beyond all of this. Beyond the families, the alliances, and the way their world thrived on games.

And when the meeting finally ended, as they stepped outside and the cool evening air wrapped around her, shefeltit?her world shifting, tilting off its axis, settling into a new orbit around Ilya Nikolai. Her bane of existence?now her husband-to-be.

“You want me to take you back to your place?” he asked after a few moments of silence. His voice was quieter now, less formal.

Valentina hesitated. She could say yes. She could ask him to take her back to the life she knew, to the quiet serenity of her condo, to the space that was still hers alone.

But something about tonight had changed everything.

She turned to him, her voice softer than she expected. “No.”

Ilya stopped, one brow lifting in question.

“Take me to where we’ll live once I become your wife.”

For the first time that night, the corner of her mouth lifted into something resembling a real smile. He inched closer, the heat of it lingering between them, his breath teasing her lips.

“Well, someone’s eager,” he murmured, amusement laced in his tone.

A shiver ran down her spine. Then, in classic Ilya Nikolai fashion, he claimed her mouth right there?hot, deep, unapologetic. His hand slid down the arch of her spine, fingers pressing firmly as he cupped the curve of her ass, pulling her flush against him as his tongue swept into her mouth.

Valentina let out something between a gasp and a moan before she managed to pull away, her face flushed, a breathless giggle escaping her throat as she wiggled against him. “My father could see us right now. And there are guards everywhere.”

He tugged her right back, his grip firm. “Does it look like I care?”

“No,” she admitted, brushing her lipstick from the corner of his mouth, ignoring the heat curling low in her stomach. “But I do.”

He exhaled a sigh, letting her go?but not without one last squeeze. Then, unlocking the car door, he looked at her and murmured.

“Alright,Krasivaya. Let’s go home.”

Chapter 22 - Ilya

Ilya’s family estate was as grand as ever?an expansive property on the outskirts of the city, surrounded by towering iron gates and acres of meticulously kept land. From the outside, it looked menacing, like a place you would walk into and never be seen again. But it eased slightly from the insides, sprawling with warmth and familiarity that Ilya was used to.

The main house, a blend of old-world Russian architecture and modern luxury, stood like a fortress, its stone façade instantly commanding respect. Security was tight, with guards stationed at discreet yet strategic positions, but inside, it felt less like a compound and more like a home?warm lighting, intricate woodwork, and the faint scent of cedar and expensive cologne lingering in the air.

Ilya led her through the halls quietly, stopping at the wing they’d call their own. It was more private than she expected, tucked away from the rest of the house with a long balcony overlooking the vast estate grounds.

Their bedroom was large but not cold or impersonal. A king-sized bed dominated the space, the sheets crisp and inviting, while a fireplace flickered softly against the dimly lit walls. Floor-to-ceiling windows framed the view outside, the black curtains shifting slightly from the night breeze.

Ilya watched her carefully, hands tucked into his pockets, catching every subtle turn of her head, every flicker of her eyes, every movement of her lips as she took in the space around them. He told himself he was just observing, just studying her reaction like he always did with people. But as the silence stretched, something unfamiliar curled tight in his chest, a pressure he hadn’t felt since he was a boy.

Nerves.

It was a strange thing to admit, even to himself, but there they were, squeezing at his ribs as he waited for her verdict. He had brought her here without expectation, but now, he was unsure. Would she want to live with his family? Would she see this as a home?or just another obligation?

He cleared his throat. “If you’d rather live somewhere else?”

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