Page 66 of Owned By the Russian

Irina turned to her immediately, shaking her head, her eyes wide like she knew what was going through Valentina’s head. “No, don’t. They could be outside.”

“They’re not.” Valentina shifted, twisting her hands behind her back. “They tied us too fast. Sloppy. The knot isn’t secure.”

Irina hesitated. “Are you sure?”

“Trust me.”

A few more sharp, strategic twists, and she felt the rope slacken. Another second, and her wrists were free. She silently thanked Enrico for all the times he would teach her how to maneuver out of a knot, even when she didn’t want to learn. Her fingers burned as the blood rushed back, but she ignored it, leaning forward to free Irina next.

As soon as they were both loose, they pressed against the door, listening.

Silence.

Valentina glanced at Irina, who nodded.

They moved.

The hallway was dimly lit, shadows stretching long against the concrete walls. Their steps were silent, calculated. Years of being raised by powerful men had taught them how to move unseen.

“That should be the exit,” Irina whispered, nodding toward a metal door that was ajar.

They were almost to the door when a figure emerged from around the corner, gun raised.

“Stop.”

Valentina froze, her breath locking in her throat. The gun was pointed at her chest. No?lower.

At her stomach.

At her baby.

For the first time, true terror clawed at her. She couldn’t let anything happen to her child. To the life she and Ilya were meant to have together.

Fucking think, Valentina.

The man was tall, broad?but he had the face of a boy. Young. Unseasoned. His grip on the gun wasn’t as firm as it should have been. His stance left him vulnerable.

And it didn’t look like he was expecting her to fight back.

His finger tugged at the trigger. “Get back.”

Valentina met his gaze, eyes wide, voice trembling. “Please…” She staggered slightly, feigning a stumble. He moved, just an inch, just enough?

She lunged.

Grabbing his wrist, she twisted hard, forcing the gun toward the ground. A shot rang out, deafening in the narrow hall. Irina yelped, but Valentina didn’t stop. She slammed her knee into the man’s groin, wrenched the gun from his gasp, and turned it on him.

He barely had time to register what had happened before she pulled the trigger without mercy. The gunshot rang out like a siren in the night, shattering the silence.

The bullet hit him square in the chest. He dropped.

Valentina’s hands shook, but she forced herself to breathe. Forced herself to focus. Adrenaline sent blood racing to her brain.

Irina stared at her, wide-eyed. “Holy shit.”

There was stillness for a split second. Then there were shouts, footsteps pounding against the concrete floor.

“Fuck,” Valentina cursed, grabbing Irina’s wrist and yanking her forward. “Run.”

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