The sound of the storm outside was drowned out by a strange silence inside the room. Alia slowly shifted her gaze from the ceiling toward the man lying beside her. She let out a long breath a sigh filled with exhaustion, melancholy, and the story of an unspoken agony.
As she looked at him, she noticed that Viktor was already watching her. In those sharp eyes, there was no violence now, but a sense of intense possessiveness mixed with an unusual tenderness. It was as if Viktor could sense the storm raging inside Alia's soul.
Viktor took Alia's hand in his and gently kissed it. The warmth of his lips sent a shiver through her. Looking deep into her eyes, he spoke in a low, calm voice:
Viktor: "I am here, Alia... I am always here."
This single sentence from Viktor created a wave of conflict in Alia's heart. This man was as ruthless as he was mysterious, like a deep, dark forest. Was his "presence" for her protection, or was it to keep her captive in his world forever?
Alia didn't respond. She simply tried to find her lost self in the depths of Viktor's gaze. Between the dark Russian night outside and the heated embrace within, Alia realized that she had to reach her next destination holding this man's hand be it heaven or hell. Viktor pulled Alia into a tight embrace, locking her within his powerful arms. The heated intensity from earlier settled into a deep calm, and Viktor drifted into a heavy, profound sleep. His breathing was slow and steady, yet even in his slumber, he didn't let go of her for a second. It felt as if he were guarding her as his possession even in his dreams.
Meanwhile, regarding Alia's brother, Ivan:
Ivan stood alone on the dark balcony of the palace. A lit cigar was in his hand, its smoke blending with the night mist. Though his tears had dried, the storm inside his heart hadn't ceased. Despite being a high-ranking military officer, he felt a strange sense of defeat today.
Looking at the sky, Ivan wondered how his elder sister had become so entangled in this mafia web. Alia's last words were still echoing in his ears. He knew Viktor was obsessed with her, but would this obsession protect her or slowly destroy her?
Ivan's wife came up behind him and placed a hand on his shoulder. Without looking back, Ivan let out a heavy sigh—
Ivan: "I don't know if Alia is sleeping in peace tonight. Despite me being here, my sister is living at the mercy of another man. This Russian rain is falling today just like her tears."
Ivan crushed out his cigar. A new resolve flickered in his eyes. He decided that he would use his military power and position to keep a watch over Alia. If Viktor ever threatened her dignity or her life, Ivan would choose blood over his uniform.
In the depths of that night, between Viktor's dominance and Ivan's silent vow, Alia remained the centerpiece of this dangerous mafia game. Even in his deep sleep, Alia's presence seemed intertwined with Viktor's subconscious. Suddenly, a sinister and mysterious smile flickered at the corner of Viktor's lips—the kind of smile that only fits a victorious predator. Still half-asleep, he let his hand trail over her skin, feeling every curve of her body (Touching her body).
As Alia watched him in surprise, Viktor, without even opening his eyes, leaned in and gave her a deep, lingering kiss on the lips. After pulling away, he whispered in a drug-like, husky tone right against her ear—
Viktor: "Hummmm... my mommy..."
Hearing this name from Viktor sent a strange shiver of both thrill and fear down Alia's spine. When this ruthless Don of the mafia world surrenders like this or uses such peculiar endearments, Alia realizes how complex and dark Viktor's psyche truly is. It's as if Viktor finds in Alia a lost sanctuary or an intense sense of possessiveness.
Viktor buried his face in her neck again, like a rebellious child who refuses to let go of his favorite refuge. Alia's body remained trapped in his firm embrace. The Russian rain outside still hadn't stopped, and inside the room, Viktor's strange smile and address made the night feel even more enigmatic for Alia. The heat inside the room seemed to defy the chill of the rain outside. Breaking out of his slumber, Viktor once again established control over Alia's body. He pulled her under him and engaged in intimacy—a union fueled by primal obsession and intense dominance. Viktor's heavy, hot breaths crashed against Alia's shoulder and neck, shattering the silence of the room.
However, throughout this act, Alia exhibited a strange indifference. While Viktor was exercising his right over her body, Alia was calmly looking at her mobile. The bluish light from the phone screen reflected off her stone-cold, calm face.
Perhaps she was looking for a message from Ivan or a memory from her past life. Even Viktor's intense physical proximity couldn't seem to reach the walls of her mind. While Viktor was buried in the heat of the moment against her neck, Alia continued to scroll through her phone with complete detachment.
It was as if this Mafia Queen had surrendered her body to Viktor but kept her soul hidden behind that digital screen. Neither Viktor's love nor his lust could break Alia's icy silence. Between the Russian rain outside and this unequal union within, a melancholic and complex chapter was being written. When Ivan's message popped up on Alia's phone, the atmosphere in the room was intensely uncomfortable. Holding her mobile in one hand while bearing the weight of Viktor's body, Alia read the text.
Ivan: "What are you doing?"
For a moment, Alia felt Viktor's hot breath and his dominance over her body. She realized how turbulent her situation was. She calmly typed back—
Alia: "There's an earthquake happening."
As soon as Ivan saw the message, worry lined his forehead. In the calm of the Russian night, an earthquake was unheard of. He quickly messaged back—
Ivan: "What do you mean an earthquake? What are you saying? Are you okay?"
Alia looked at the screen and smiled faintly. Ivan was perhaps thinking of a literal earthquake, but Alia was referring to the turbulence of her life, where a powerful man like Viktor was exerting his right over her. This Mafia Queen didn't tell her brother everything directly, but in a metaphorical way, she shared the agony of her current state.
While Viktor remained buried against her neck, the words Alia typed in the blue light of the phone settled in Ivan's inbox like a secret cry for help. Ivan stood there waiting, knowing his sister never spoke like that without a reason.Ivan's message flashed on the screen. Having caught a glimpse into the intensity of the situation, he replied with a mix of curiosity and brotherly intuition:
Ivan: "Oh, I see... Tell me, what does it feel like?"
At that exact moment, Viktor exerted his overwhelming strength and dominance, crushing Alia against his body with even more force. The sudden, wild intensity of his movement forced a sharp, involuntary moan from Alia's lips—"ahhh!"
Amidst the intense tremors of her body, Alia's hands shook as she fumbled with her phone screen. With Viktor's hot breath crashing against her ear and her world spinning, she managed to send one final text to Ivan:
Alia: "The whole city is collapsing, Ivan... I am being destroyed."
Hidden behind this metaphorical message was the reality of Viktor's ruthless and uncontrolled obsession. On the other end, Ivan froze as he read the words. He realized that at this very moment, his sister was a victim of a situation where she was forced only to endure.
In that rain-soaked Russian night, between Viktor's primal ecstasy and the silent scream sitting in Ivan's inbox, a dark and melancholic tragedy unfolded. Right in that intense moment on the bed, Ivan's message arrived—
Ivan: "Oh, I see! Send me a pic of Viktor, let me see what's going on."
Alia hesitated for a second. On one side was Viktor's wild dominance, and on the other was her brother's curiosity. Very carefully, she tilted her phone and took a photo in that exact state. The frame captured Viktor's sweat-slicked back, his powerful shoulders, and his fierce yet intoxicated form buried against Alia's neck. In the dim light, the mafia tattoos on Viktor's skin seemed to come alive with the camera's flash.
With trembling fingers, Alia hit send. On the other end, as soon as Ivan opened the message, his eyes widened in shock. He stared at the screen, speechless.
Ivan: "Oh OMG!"
Ivan realized just how much control Viktor exerted over his sister. In that photo, Viktor didn't look like an ordinary man; he looked like a primal predator who refused to let go of his prey even for a second. It felt to Ivan that this man was less of a protector and more of a dangerous, addictive prison for Alia.
In that stormy Russian night, Ivan sighed while staring at his phone screen, while Alia was once again swept away by the turbulent waves of Viktor's obsession.In the midst of that suffocating atmosphere and right after the exchange of messages, Alia's phone suddenly rang. Ivan's name flashed on the screen. Even in the peak of their intense intimacy, Viktor maintained an eerie, calm composure. Without loosening his grip on Alia for even a second, he reached out and took the phone from her hand.
Viktor, with his wireless earphone already in place, pressed the button to answer. His voice was a blend of deep, cold authority and post-coital rasp. He didn't even flinch as he spoke into the mic, his eyes locked onto Alia's trembling form.
Viktor: "Hello... who is this?"
On the other end, Ivan froze. Hearing that voice—so steady and dominant while knowing exactly what was happening on that bed—sent a chill down his spine. It was a reminder that Viktor wasn't just Alia's husband or a Mafia Don; he was a sentinel over her every breath.
Lying there naked and exhausted, Alia listened to Viktor's heavy voice through the speaker. As Viktor spoke to Ivan, his gaze never left her face, as if he were silently signaling that her entire world now belonged solely to him. In the darkness of that Russian night, Ivan's call and Viktor's blunt question signaled the beginning of a new, dangerous tension.