Page 54 of Owned By the Russian

She hesitated, caught off guard by the quiet intensity in his voice.

He stepped closer, towering over her, his presence all-consuming. “What do you want to do?” he asked seriously. “At the end of the day, it’s your body, and it’s your choice. I’ll do what you want, Valentina. So, do you want to keep it?”

His words hung in the air, heavy with an unspoken promise. He watched her carefully, his heart pounding in his chest as he saw the vulnerability she tried to hide, the uncertainty creeping into her eyes before she buried it again beneath a mask of resolve.

“Yes,” Valentina said, her voice wavering as her gaze fell to her stomach, as if grounding herself with the reality of it all. “I want to keep it.”

A deep breath escaped him, as though a weight he hadn’t even realized he’d been carrying was finally lifted. Relief flooded his system, but it was paired with a new kind of determination. He reached for her, a hand on her arm, steadying her as if she might sway under the gravity of the situation. His thumb gently traced the inside of her wrist, a silent promise in touch.

“Good,” he murmured, his voice low but resolute. “Then that’s what we’ll do.”

She didn’t respond immediately, just gazing at him, her eyes soft but filled with emotions he couldn’t decipher. She was giving him an answer, yes, but there was something unspoken between them?something more than the decision to keep the child. The same thing that made him rush down here like a mad man.

“I’m going to speak to your father,” he added, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Her brows pulled together, but there was suspicion in her eyes that told him she knew why. “About what?”

His lips curled into something that wasn’t quite a smirk but close enough. “About marrying you.”

Her breath hitched. “What?”

“You heard me, Princess.” He reached out, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face. “You’re going to be my wife.”

She stared at him in stunned silence.

Ilya had never been a man to hesitate. He saw what he wanted and took it. And now, he wanted her?wanted to make her officially his.

A frown touched her brows. “If this is just because of the baby?”

“It’s not just about the baby,” he countered before she could finish. “It’s about us.”

That was only a half-truth. What he didn’t say, what he wasn’t ready to admit, was that it was because he was madly in love with her?a scary truth he had just realized himself when he heard she was hurt and was scared out of his wits.

It was always her.

It had always been her. Even when he was too blind to see it.

“I’m doing this because I’m not letting you walk through this alone,” he added. “And I’m not letting you walk away from me either.”

There was no mocking in his words, no arrogance, just the raw truth hanging between them.

“I’m not walking away,” she said, her voice trembling just a little as she finally allowed herself to believe what he was offering.

Ilya’s hand remained on her wrist, his grip firm but reassuring. “Good. Because whether you like it or not, you’re stuck with me now, Valentina Romano.”

Chapter 21 - Valentina

The air in Lorenzo Romano’s study was thick with cigar smoke, aged whiskey, and the suffocating weight of old traditions. The room was dimly lit, the glow from the ornate chandelier casting long shadows over the heavy oak desk where Lorenzo sat, his fingers steepled, face unreadable.

On one side, Valentina sat stiff-backed, arms crossed over her chest in what felt like a futile attempt at self-preservation. From what, exactly, she wasn’t sure?maybe the relentless whirlwind of thoughts crashing through her mind.

She hadn’t been surprised when her father immediately agreed to a meeting with Ilya. Lorenzo had always wanted an alliance with the Nikolai family that was beyond silly invites to family events, and now, with his youngest daughter carrying a Nikolai heir, the opportunity had practically fallen into his lap.

But that was just it. Was that all this was? A convenient arrangement?

Ilya hadn’t been the cold bastard she’d expected when he found out about the pregnancy. He had assured her?without hesitation?that he would be there for her, that she wouldn’t go through it alone. He had said it with so much conviction that, for a moment, she had believed him.

“What kind of man do you think I am, Valentina? You’d think I’d walk away from my own blood?”

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