Dimitri's blue eyes were fixed on Maya's (Sophia's) lips. He slowly drew back his face, as if attempting to conquer an impregnable fortress. The heat of his breath brushed against Sophia's nose. Just as he was about to kiss her, Sophia's head snapped sideways like lightning.
Dimitri's lips missed hers and brushed past her cheek, vanishing into empty air. The atmosphere of the room froze instantly.
Sophia stood up from her chair. Her white sheer dress, paired with her heels, gave her a regal posture. She took a step back from Dimitri and let out a disdainful smile.
Fixing him with her golden gaze, she said, "Dimitri, you can drug me into unconsciousness, you can extract my identity—but conquering my mind or body won't be that easy. I can distinguish between Riki's touch and a killer's touch."
Dimitri straightened up. Instead of anger, her rejection seemed to stir a stronger curiosity in him. Adjusting his suit sleeve, he said, "A killer? I already told you, I didn't kill Riki. But this stubbornness… this refusal… it drives me even more crazy for you, Sophia."
Sophia pulled a lighter from her small purse and pointed it at him. "Madness is not good, Dimitri. I didn't come here to be your queen. I came to uncover the truth. If Riki was your partner, then the responsibility of finding his killer lies with you as well."
Dimitri took a step closer and, in a mysterious voice, said, "Alright. If you want to find Riki's killer, tonight I'll take you to a place. There, you will get your answers. But remember, Sophia, truth isn't always beautiful. Sometimes it's more painful than lies."
Sophia understood that Dimitri was either setting her into a terrifying trap or preparing to confront her with a larger truth.
Her voice hardened as she stared at him, full of defiance. "I'm not going anywhere, Dimitri. I'm not foolish enough to step into your maze. Speak here and now—what really happened with Riki?"
Dimitri moved to the window. Outside, Moscow's sky released snow. He lit a cigarette, letting out smoke, and began recounting the events of that dark night.
Dimitri's Confession: That Fateful Night
"That night, Riki came to this very hotel. We had a deal—some advanced tech chips from Russia were to be transferred to Bangladesh. But Sophia, Riki wasn't just an agent—he was exceptionally smart. He realized that a certain special group in Bangladesh intended to use these chips to stage a coup within the country."
Turning to Sophia, his eyes now carried a cold truth, he continued, "That night, Riki came to me seeking help. He said, 'Dimitri, there's a traitor in my own agency. They won't let me return alive.' I wanted to save him, but it was too late. Right beneath this hotel, as he was about to get into the car, shots rang out from the shadows. I saw from the window—the shooter wasn't Russian."
Sophia froze, trembling. "Not Russian?" she whispered.
Dimitri stepped closer, lowering his voice. "The shooter used a special silenced gun, the type only your Special Unit employs. Riki was killed by his own country's weapon. After his death, I was informed by your headquarters that Riki was a traitor and had to be eliminated."
Dimitri placed a hand on her shoulder. This time, his touch carried no lust—only a strange mercy.
"Sophia, do you know why you were sent here? You weren't sent to kill Dimitri Ivanov. You were sent so that, in trying to confront him, you might die. Your headquarters wanted to erase you as they did with Riki because you were closest to him, closest to the truth."
The ground seemed to shift beneath Sophia. Her white sheer dress, damp with sweat and fear, clung to her. She cried out, "No! This can't be! You're lying!"
Dimitri calmly handed her a small black box. "This is Riki's final memory. That night, he gave it to me. He said, if you ever came, give it to her."
Trembling, Sophia opened the box. Inside was a tiny memory chip.
Her mind was a storm of drums. Were Dimitri's words true? Or was this another of Moscow's illusions? Hands shaking, she placed the chip into a high-tech laptop in the corner of Dimitri's room.
Outside, the snow intensified, and the room was eerily silent.
Riki's Final Message
The screen flickered, and Riki's face appeared—not the cheerful Riki Sophia remembered. Blood ran down his forehead, his shirt torn, sitting in a dark place, gasping.
He began to speak:
"Sophia… if you're seeing this, it means I'm no longer alive. Don't fully trust Dimitri, but don't fully distrust him either. Inside our agency, some value money over the country. 'Operation Blue Star' was never a smuggling mission—it was a blueprint for our elimination."
He smiled mysteriously at the camera, blood running down his face.
"I know you're angry now, maybe even crying. Don't cry, Sophia. There's a secret code in the hidden pocket of your bag. That will lead you to the real killer. Take care, my golden girl…"
The video ended, leaving the screen black.
Sophia sat on the sofa, completely alone in the vast luxury hotel room. She walked to the bathroom, turning on the tap. Steam from the warm water fogged the mirror. She gripped the sink, head bowed, sobbing—the sound echoing off the tiles.
She looked at her white sheer dress. The outfit she had come in to conquer Dimitri now seemed like a cursed shroud. She took a sip of water from a glass, but her chest heaved with grief. Riki had warned her, yet left her in the midst of a colossal battle.
Wiping the steam from the mirror, she muttered, "Riki, they didn't just kill you—they sold Bangladesh's soul. I won't let this end here."
Suddenly, a soft knock came at the bathroom door. Dimitri's voice floated through:
"Sophia? Are you alright? I hear water, but your silence scares me."
Sophia wiped her tears. The girl she once was had died; now a deadly warrior had risen. Her voice icy and controlled, she shouted,
"Leave, Dimitri! Leave me alone!"
Outside, Dimitri's footsteps stopped. Sophia yelled again, "I said go! I have no strength left to hear your story!"
After a brief silence, Dimitri's grave voice came:
"I'll be in the dining room. Take your time. But remember, Sophia, you're in a maze now where walking alone means death."
The footsteps faded. Sophia confirmed he had left the room.
She grabbed her bag and searched for the hidden pocket, trembling. Her fingers felt the small object inside—a silver metallic sheet, engraved with digits and a name: 'Project Blue Star – Code 420'. Beneath it, written in Bengali, was a name that froze her blood—the current Chief of Operations of her own agency.
Sophia realized she wasn't sent to Moscow to die at Dimitri's hands, but rather to be eliminated along with Riki—by both Dimitri and her own agency. She now stood at the center of a two-front war: a powerful Russian mafia on one side, and traitorous officials from her own country on the other.
She looked out the window as the snowfall thickened. Pulling a large black overcoat over her white sheer dress, she held Riki's code and the memory of his unfinished revenge. Sophia resolved that her battle wouldn't be fought in the snow of Russia—it would start at the very source in Bangladesh.
Moscow-Bangladesh Secret Station
Under the cover of night, Sophia entered the station, hiding her white dress beneath the black coat. No one dared stop her; her golden eyes and DGFI special clearance granted her passage.
She went straight to her senior officer's cabin. Major General Moeen, nearly 58, with graying hair and a solemn face marked by years of experience, was sitting there. He had been Riki and Sophia's mentor.
Seeing Sophia, he set down his glasses, furrowing his brow.
"Sophia? Here? You were supposed to be at Dimitri's palace. How far did you get with Operation Blue Star?"
Sophia didn't prevaricate. She slammed Riki's silver sheet and memory chip on the table. Moeen's eyes narrowed.
Her voice sharp, she said, "Operation Blue Star was a lie, sir! I didn't kill Riki, nor did Dimitri. He was killed by our own weapon. Do you know whose names are on this list?"
Moeen sighed, looking down, his stooped shoulders seeming even heavier. "Sophia, you shouldn't have come here. I was trying to protect you. I sent you to Moscow to lay low."
Sophia roared, "Protect me? Or plan to end me like Riki? Sir, with all your experience, you can't see the filth inside our agency?"
He stood by the window, saying quietly, "Age doesn't take courage, Sophia, but it teaches reality. What Riki discovered, he couldn't digest. And you… you're blinded by emotion."
Suddenly, Moeen turned, holding a pistol, aiming at Sophia. "Sorry, Sophia. Give me that chip. I can't bear another death on my conscience. At my age, I can't ruin my career either."
Sophia froze. The man she respected like a father was now pointing a gun at her for his own survival. She smiled faintly, the trace of tears in her smile.
Moeen's hand trembled; seeing her unwavering gaze, the stone inside him seemed to shatter. The pistol dropped to the floor. He stepped forward, embracing Sophia like a father protecting his child.
Choking back tears, he murmured, "Forgive me, my child… forgive me. I always saw you and Riki as my own. But I became helpless. Pressure from above and fear for my family turned me into a coward."
Sophia stood silently, drenched in Moeen's tears. She realized that those who had tried to manipulate her and Riki were not invincible.
He gently stroked her head and said, "Don't cry. It's late for me, but you still have time. That chip contains everything—if exposed, it would reveal not just Bangladesh, but the international traitors as well. I'll get you out of here. Only Dimitri can protect you now."
Moeen quickly handed her a sealed envelope. "Inside is a map of my private safe house and some emergency contacts. Go now. Rely on no one but Dimitri. I'll bear the guilt here."
Just then, heavy boots echoed in the station hallway. Other agents may have sensed unusual activity in Moeen's room.