Viktor's rage was now beyond control. Alia's defiance and the hints of her closeness with Anashia had awakened the primal ferocity within him. Without a word, he suddenly swept Alia off her feet.
Alia tried to struggle, but she was helpless against the brute strength of Viktor's muscular frame. He carried her into the bedroom and forcefully threw her onto the bed. The soft mattress dipped under her weight, but it was the cruel glint in Viktor's eyes that froze her.
Alia: (In a panicked voice) "Viktor, let me go! You can't do this! This isn't love; this is just your ego!"
Viktor didn't listen. His Mafia Lord persona only knew how to conquer. He leaned over her, the POMA dress she wore nearly tearing under the tension. Alia felt crushed under his heavy breathing and the weight of his body.
Viktor: (Gritting his teeth) "I told you before, Alia you are my property. You wanted to show your body to the outside world, but you forgot that the first and last right to this body belongs only to me. Tonight, I will remind you whose cage you are trapped in."
That night, the argument from the drawing room turned into a terrifying and toxic physical encounter. There was no love, only the stubborn obsession with dominance. Viktor poured all his rage and jealousy into her. Alia kept her eyes shut in pain and humiliation, feeling as though her long silver-white hair was caught in the web of Viktor's vengeance.
Outside, it was still dark, and inside that closed room, the Lord of the Petrov Empire asserted his authority over his queen through a cruel game The atmosphere inside the room was thick with extreme tension. Viktor, driven by rage and obsession, lunged at Alia. He gripped both of her hands tightly, pinning them against the bed so she couldn't move. Alia's glamorous attire was disheveled, and her eyes were filled with tears. Viktor acted like a maddened Lord, seeking absolute control over his defiant queen.
But at that exact moment, a tragic scene unfolded behind the door. Hearing the sounds of the struggle, 14-year-old Elena had come back downstairs. Through the crack in the door, she witnessed the devastating and painful encounter between her parents. In Elena's teenage eyes, there was only terror and resentment; she realized how helpless her mother truly was behind the walls of nobility.
The loyal maid rushed up from behind. She shuddered seeing Elena in that state. She knew this sight would leave a lifelong scar on a child's mind.
Maid: (In a trembling voice, covering Elena's eyes with her hands) "No, no, little Princess! You must not look at this. Do not look that way!"
The maid covered Elena's eyes and ears, practically forcing her away from the spot. She began whispering into Elena's ear:
Maid: "Elena, come with me. This fight between your parents is not for you to see. Just remember, your mother loves you very much. Let's go... your mother wouldn't want you to see her like this."
Elena went back to her room, crying with the maid. But her father's cruel face and her mother's silent screams remained etched in her mind. Meanwhile, inside the closed room, Viktor continued to assert his dominance while holding Alia's hands pinned down, oblivious to the world outside. That night in the Petrov Empire bore witness to a dark history. The storm inside the room had finally subsided. An unbearable silence hung over everything, carrying the echoes of the cruel struggle that had taken place. Viktor was fast asleep beside her, exhausted, but Alia couldn't close her eyes.
She slowly opened them. Her entire body ached with a dull, throbbing pain. She tried to sit up and saw her expensive POMA dress lying disheveled on the floor. The dress that had once symbolized her elegance and freedom now looked like nothing more than a discarded piece of cloth.
Alia climbed out of bed and stepped toward the floor on trembling legs. She leaned down to pick up the dress and clutched it tightly against her body. Her long, silver-white hair cascaded over her face and shoulders. Looking into the mirror, she barely recognized herself—the woman in the reflection looked like a defeated queen rising from ruins.
She cast a glance toward the bed where Viktor still lay in peaceful slumber. To her, this man was the greatest darkness of her life. She remembered the moment outside the door; she sensed someone had been there. The thought of whether Elena had seen anything crushed her from within.
She walked to the window. The first light of dawn was breaking across the sky, but the sky of Alia's life seemed darker than ever. She knew this wasn't just another night; it was the beginning of a new war within the Petrov family. Alia somehow covered herself with the torn dress, then pulled a light shawl from the wardrobe and draped it over her shoulders. Viktor was still in a deep sleep. She stepped out of the room silently, every step causing a jolt of pain through her body, but her mind was only on her child.
She walked slowly to Elena's room. The door was slightly ajar. Inside, she saw the girl fast asleep, but the dried tear tracks were still visible at the corners of her eyes. She had likely fallen asleep from exhaustion after crying.
Alia sat by the bed. The morning light filtered through the window, falling on Elena's innocent face. Alia reached out with a trembling hand and stroked Elena's hair. Her heart was breaking, but she composed herself.
Alia: (In a very low voice, wiping her tears) "My child... my heart. I never wanted you to see this hell. This nobility of 'Blue Blood' has brought you nothing but pain."
She gently kissed Elena's forehead. Alia felt that in this dark mansion, this child was her only strength to survive. She promised herself that she would never let her daughter be scarred again by this power struggle between Viktor and Anashia.
Elena stirred slightly in her sleep, as if sensing her mother's touch. Alia sat there like a statue for a while, her sighs creating a mournful melody in the quiet morning air. The morning silence was shattered as Viktor's deep, gruff voice echoed through the drawing room and corridors.
Viktor: (Screaming in agony) "Alia! Alia, where are you?"
Viktor suddenly jolted awake in his bed. Beads of sweat covered his forehead, and he gripped his head with both hands. It felt as if someone was striking the inside of his brain with a thousand hammers. After the intense rage, exhaustion, and physical strain of the previous night, this headache was becoming unbearable.
He couldn't even open his eyes; the slivers of morning light pierced his pupils like needles. His usually dominant face was now contorted in pain. He reached out to find Alia beside him, but there was only emptiness and crumpled sheets.
Viktor: (Shouting again) "Alia! Where did you go? Come here!"
Sitting in Elena's room, Alia shuddered upon hearing Viktor's call. She knew this headache wasn't just a common ache—it was a specific physiological reaction of the 'Blue Blood' lineage that manifested after extreme mental and physical stress.
Giving Elena's forehead one last stroke, Alia slowly stepped out of the room. Her own body bore the marks of exhaustion and pain. When she reached the doorway of Viktor's room, she saw the Great Lord sitting on the edge of the bed, head bowed, groaning in pain. In this single moment of agony, his immense pride seemed to have surrendered.
Alia stood still. She showed no pity, only staring with cold eyes at the man who, just hours ago, had claimed her as his property and torn her world apart. Alia hid her physical pain and inner resentment as she slowly walked toward Viktor. She had managed to fix her appearance and was wearing the dress properly under the shawl. Seeing Viktor's condition, she realized that the Lord was truly losing control.
She stood by the bed and tried to place her hand on Viktor's forehead. Viktor was writhing in pain, his eyes bloodshot.
Alia: (In a detached but calm voice) "What happened to you? Why are you screaming like this? Let me see, turn your head toward me."
Viktor struggled to open his eyes and look at Alia. His vision was blurred, but he seemed to find some relief in her presence. He tried to grab her hand firmly, but Alia pulled back and picked up a glass of lukewarm water from the side table.
Alia: "Here, have some water. Your body is trembling, Viktor. Your excessive stubbornness and rage are taking a toll on you."
Viktor took a few sips of the water. The cool touch calmed his internal burn slightly, but the hammering inside his head didn't stop. He set the glass aside and cried out to her.
Viktor: (In a slurred voice) "Alia... my head is exploding! It feels like someone is tearing my brain apart. Hold me... don't go away."
Alia paused for a moment. This was the same man who had acted like a beast last night, and now he was asking for help like a child. Setting the glass down, Alia moved very close to him again.
Alia: "I am here. I'm not going anywhere. Just lie down."
She began to wipe his forehead with a bit of the water. Viktor rested his head on Alia's lap and closed his eyes. He tried to find peace in her touch, but Alia knew this calmness was only temporary. Viktor's vulnerability was not enough to make her forgive him. A fierce conflict raged within Alia's heart. On one side was the humiliation and cruelty of last night, and on the other, Viktor's current vulnerability. As Viktor rested his head on her lap, agonizing in pain, Alia's long-standing affection and love once again overshadowed her resolve.
She couldn't hold herself back anymore. Tears rolled down her cheeks and fell onto Viktor's forehead. Alia leaned down and, with profound tenderness, kissed Viktor's lips. This kiss was an expression of a toxic love one where hatred exists, but the power to leave is absent.
Alia: (In a tearful voice) "I wanted to hate you, Viktor. I wanted to leave you and go far away after last night's humiliation. But I can't..."
She held him tightly, trembling as if afraid of losing him.
Alia: "I can't live without you, Viktor! Why do you hurt me so much? Why is our love so painful? I know you're a monster, but I've fallen in love with this monster."
Viktor felt a strange peace from the sound of Alia's crying and the touch of her lips. The pain in his head seemed to fade slightly. He reached out with his weak hand, placing it on Alia's back, and pulled her even closer to his chest.
Viktor: (In a very faint voice) "Alia... don't go. Don't ever leave me."
The room was filled with only the sound of Alia's sobbing and the echo of Viktor's heavy breathing. Outside, the sunlight was growing bright, but inside the mansion, they remained bound to each other by a chain that neither could ever break. The cruelty of the previous night seemed covered by this moment of shared tears, yet the scars remained in both their hearts.