Hearing Ivan's voice from the other end, that familiar crooked smile reappeared on Viktor's lips. There was a hint of hesitation and unease in Ivan's voice, knowing exactly whose private moment he had just interrupted.
Ivan: "Viktor... it's me, Ivan."
Upon hearing Ivan's name, Viktor seemed to become even more aggressive. He tightened his grip on Alia's waist and began to exert his dominance with even more force. He didn't care if Alia's muffled moans reached the phone's microphone. He chuckled and said
Viktor: "Oh, Ivan! You? My old friend... what brings you here?"
In reality, the relationship between this ruthless Mafia Don and the powerful Russian military officer wasn't just that of brothers-in-law. They were classmates once. They studied together, grew up together—yet today, fate had placed them at two opposite poles. One a protector of the law, the other the king of darkness.
Viktor lowered his face to Alia's neck and addressed Ivan
Viktor: "Look Ivan, your sister is quite peaceful here in my palace. Remember our old days? Whatever I want, I take it by force. Alia is now a part of that obsession and right."
Ivan stood speechless on the other side. He knew exactly how stubborn and dangerous Viktor had been since their student days. Today, that same former classmate was the master of his beloved sister's fate. Between Viktor's cruel laughter and Alia's suppressed cries, Ivan realized that in this mafia empire, there is no room for friendship here, only power and obsession rule. Hearing "ahhh" from Ivan, Viktor paused for a second and then burst into loud laughter. For a moment, the two old classmates seemed to have returned to their old school or college benches, where they used to share all sorts of wicked jokes and banter.
Viktor: (Laughing) "What's up, Ivan? Why are you the one going 'ahhh' over there? Has the shockwave of the earthquake reached you too?"
Ivan replied from the other side with a devilish laugh. As their naughty and playful conversation continued, Alia couldn't hold back her laughter anymore. The atmosphere, which had been so melancholic and heavy just moments ago, suddenly shifted into a strange, lighthearted mood.
Alia burst into a giggle. She touched Viktor's muscular chest, trying to stop him, but Viktor was busy exchanging banter with Ivan just like the old days. Between the warmth of Viktor's body and this bizarre chat with her brother, the heavy stone of grief seemed to lift from Alia's heart for a moment.
Viktor looked at Alia's smiling face and gave her a gentle kiss on the forehead, but he didn't stop teasing Ivan over the phone—
Viktor: "Listen Ivan, I'm handling your sister in my pure Mafia style. You better just keep your heart rate in check over there!"
Ivan laughed and said, "I know how crazy you are! Just take care of Alia, or I'll roll into your palace with a military tank!"
In that stormy Russian night, the wicked banter between the Mafia Don and the Military Officer, along with Alia's heartfelt laughter, created a strange contrast. Resting her hand on Viktor's chest, Alia felt that as dangerous as this man was, he perhaps had an equal capacity to truly belong to her.The room was filled with laughter and banter, but in the midst of that joy, a sharp cry of pain suddenly escaped Viktor's lips— "ahhhhh!"
Alia, who had been laughing with her hand on Viktor's chest, was startled by this sudden outburst. She realized that no matter how powerful a Mafia Don Viktor was, at the end of the day, he was a human being made of flesh and blood. Perhaps a movement or a nudge from Alia had hit an old wound or a recent injury, causing him genuine pain.
On the other end of the line, Ivan also fell silent upon hearing Viktor's pained voice. He stopped joking and asked in a concerned tone
Ivan: "Viktor? What happened? Are you okay?"
Viktor gritted his teeth, trying to manage the pain. Sweat beaded on his forehead. He gave Alia a faint smile, trying to show he was alright. He spoke into the phone with a slightly strained voice
Viktor: "It's nothing... your sister has just become too powerful. Even her touch feels like a lightning strike now."
By then, Alia had placed her hand over the spot on his chest where the pain originated. Her smiling face turned worried again. Looking into Viktor's eyes, she whispered, "Did it hurt? I didn't mean to..."
Viktor ended the call with Ivan and set the phone aside. He pulled Alia closer into a deep embrace and said, "Sometimes these pains are necessary, Alia, to remind me that I'm still alive. And that you are here by my side."
In the silence of that Russian night, Viktor's cry of pain and Alia's concerned gaze gave birth to a new emotion one where it wasn't just about dominance, but also about vulnerability and a dawning care for one another.Buckling under the sudden wave of pain, Viktor couldn't maintain his balance. In a swift motion, he reached out and clutched the iron grill of the bed-frame. The veins in his hands bulged, and his grip on the metal was so forceful it seemed as though the iron rods might actually bend under his strength.
Seeing Viktor in this state, Alia's heart skipped a beat. She scrambled up and tried to pull his hand away from the grill.
As Alia placed her hand over his, she could feel his entire body trembling with the intensity of the pain. Viktor gritted his teeth, holding onto that grill as if trying to anchor himself against the agony. For a split second, his image of the ruthless, invincible Don shattered.
Alia: (In a panicked voice) "Viktor! Let go! You'll cut your hand. I'm calling a doctor..."
Viktor glanced at her, his eyes reflecting a stubborn resolve amidst the pain. He signaled her to stop and slowly relaxed his grip on the iron. His fingerprints were left visible on the cold metal.
Taking a long, ragged breath, Viktor sank back into the bed, but he kept one hand tightly wrapped around Alia's wrist as if, in this moment of weakness, she was his only sanctuary. In the cold Russian night, the sound of the clashing iron and Viktor's silent struggle left a deep, unsettling impression on Alia's soul.As the intensity of the pain subsided, Viktor composed himself. Taking a deep breath, he looked at Alia and spoke in a strangely cold tone—
Viktor: "Actually... I've become accustomed to this through repeated intimacy. This body isn't like a normal person's anymore, Alia. Pain has become my constant companion."
The way he said he was 'accustomed' struck a chord in Alia. A mix of curiosity and a trace of jealousy flared within her. She looked directly into his eyes and asked
Alia: "Have you done this with anyone else? I mean... before our marriage, was there anyone else in your life like this?"
At Alia's blunt question, Viktor suddenly fell silent. His sharp gaze flickered away for a split second. He pulled his hand back from the bed-frame and adjusted the sheets, quickly changing the subject.
Viktor: "It's late, Alia. Let's drop these irrelevant topics. You need to rest."
Viktor's avoidance only fueled Alia's suspicions. She knew that Viktor wasn't just anyone; he was the supreme Mafia Lord. It was only natural for a man like him to have had many women in his past. An unsettling thought kept crossing her mind—perhaps there was someone Viktor once loved obsessively, or perhaps, hidden in some dark corner, there was a child, a daughter of his own—someone he had kept secret from the world.
Alia didn't push further, but Viktor's silence made her realize that there were many locked rooms in this man's heart to which she did not yet have the keys.Alia's simmering suspicion finally erupted like a volcano. Viktor's silence and his attempt to change the subject made her feel utterly humiliated. Trembling with rage, she pulled away from him and stood up. The bitterness buried deep inside her began to pour out in the form of poisonous words.
Alia pointed a finger at Viktor and started a bitter confrontation:
Alia: "Why are you silent? Why are you changing the subject? That means my suspicion is right! You are disgusting, Viktor! You might have power in the outside world, but to me, you're nothing more than a lecher. How many women have you brought to this bed before me? Whose lives have you destroyed? Maybe some consequence of your sins (a child) is growing up somewhere, and you're here acting like a saint!"
She didn't stop there; her voice rose even higher. She continued to hurl harsh and hurtful insults at him:
Alia: "You didn't marry me, Viktor. You bought a toy. Mafia lords like you don't know love; you only know lust. Today you've draped me in expensive jewelry; tomorrow you'll bring someone else. I hate you, I hate this palace, and I hate your fake sense of possession!"
Viktor remained sitting on the bed, silent, but his jaw was tightening. Every harsh word Alia uttered pierced him like an arrow. Fuming with rage, Alia retreated to a corner of the room, tears of anger streaming down her face. In that stormy Russian night, the romantic atmosphere instantly transformed into a battlefield. Alia's barrage of insults finally snapped Viktor's self-control. He stood up from the bed like a gathering storm. His calm, cold demeanor instantly transformed into something terrifying. Just as Alia was about to hurl another insult, Viktor roared with a thunderous shout.
Viktor: (In a piercing roar) "SHUT UP! Not another word, Alia!"
The sheer volume of his deep, gravelly voice made the entire room tremble. Even the windowpanes seemed to vibrate from the force of his command. Alia's voice died in her throat instantly. Viktor stormed toward her, pinning her against the wall. His eyes were bloodshot with rage, his breathing heavy and ragged.
He leaned in close, staring deep into her eyes, and spoke in a low, menacing hiss
Viktor: "You've said enough. Don't you dare say another word! You have no idea who you are talking to. Who gave you the right to judge my past? Do not mistake the status I gave you as my Queen for a license to dictate to me. You have no conception of the darkness I come from."
His grip tightened on Alia's arms. He was trembling with fury, yet struggling to restrain himself from causing her real harm.
For the first time tonight, Alia felt true terror. She realized that when the Mafia Don awakens, no logic or sense of right holds any ground. In that stormy Russian night, the atmosphere inside the room became more frightening than the lightning outside. The echo of Viktor's shout continued to bounce off the walls, striking fear into Alia's heart.Instead of being cowed by Viktor's shout, Alia became even more defiant. She looked him straight in the eye and threw down a challenge
Alia: "You tell me to be quiet? Do you even know who I am? You have no idea about me!"
Hearing Alia's arrogant retort, Viktor let out a diabolical laugh. He leaned in even closer, his breath fanning across her face. His voice dripped with a toxic disdain.
Viktor: "I know... I know everything. Just like me, those five Mafia Lords are obsessed with your beauty and your intoxication. You think I don't keep track? Do you think I don't know the dirty history of your physical relationships with those five men?"
Viktor gripped Alia's chin tightly and continued
Viktor: "Before you question my past, have you looked at yourself in the mirror? You aren't as pure as you think; in fact, you are more tainted. The war those five Lords are fighting to have you isn't because of your virtuesit's because of the addiction to your body. You and I are just two sides of the same coin."
Viktor's words hit Alia like a physical blow. She stood paralyzed. She had never imagined Viktor would know about her past and her secret involvements in such detail. In that stormy Russian night, the atmosphere in the room turned from a mere argument into a brutal game of exposing each other's darkest secrets.