A cold, night city. Light snow is falling near a racing track. The scene is like a website, in a long frame.
Viktor, a white-haired, blue-eyed Russian police officer, stands wearing a black, fur-collared overcoat over his Russian police uniform. The coat is billowing in the wind. Faint silhouettes of two bodyguards are beside him. Viktor is looking slightly off to the side, deep in thought.
Alia Isroovna leans against a white, expensive fur coat. She is dressed in expensive red attire, with a necklace around her neck, and long honey-golden hair. Her honey-colored eyes are looking directly at Viktor, with a mischievous smile.
Close-up of Viktor's blue eyes. Close-up of Alia's honey-colored eyes, with a hint of a smile.
Alia is walking towards Viktor. A soft expression is now on Viktor's face.
close up Alia's hand reaches out to hold Viktor's hand. Focus is on their hands.
LEANING ON SHOULDER They are walking side by side. Alia is leaning on Viktor's shoulder with deep affection.
SLEEPING EMBRAC Viktor is holding Alia in a deep embrace. Alia is fast asleep, her head resting on his shoulder.
Viktor's hand gestures for the bodyguards to leave.
The bodyguards walk away into the distance.
Viktor picks Alia up in his arms. Now, no one is around.
Viktor is walking towards a huge, shiny limousine, carrying the still-sleeping Alia in his arms.
Viktor enters the car with Alia.
The car door gently closes.
Large, in the soft light of the car Alia is deeply asleep, resting on Viktor's chest. Viktor is gently kissing Alia's cheek. His eyes are filled with immense affection.
Viktor's hand gently brushes the fur of Alia's coat aside.
Viktor carefully adjusts Alia's coat over her shoulder.
Close-up of Alia's peaceful, sleeping face
Alia slowly opens her eyes. She looks at Viktor.
ALIA: (Whispering, smiling) "Good morning... Mr. Officer."
Alia gives Viktor a playful smile. Viktor gets out of the car and stands in front of a massive hallway, with Alia still in his arms. The intense cold and snow outside instantly vanished as they stepped inside. Dazzling marble floors, and a huge crystal chandelier descending from the ceiling—everything glistens in the warm, luxurious light. Alia, who was in a sleepy daze until now, looked at the environment with mesmerized eyes.
Resting her hand on Viktor's shoulder, she whispered, "Wow... you built this for me, didn't you?"
Viktor's smile widened. "A Mafia Lord can certainly build a small palace of ice for his Mafia God-mother."
A smile was exchanged between them. Viktor gently lowered Alia to the floor. As Alia's feet touched the soft floor, she slightly adjusted her long fur coat. They stood barely an inch apart from each other. Their professional identities—a police officer and a member of a mafia family—were completely meaningless at this moment. Only two people stood before each other.
Alia now said, a little seriously, "Officer... why did you bring me here? I only came to say goodbye to you by the racing track."
Viktor was silent for a moment. Then he reached his hand toward Alia's face, gently brushing her hair behind her ear. His blue eyes were now filled with deep emotion.
"Did you think I would just let you go, only as a police officer?" Viktor's voice sounded deep and sincere. "When you come before me, I cannot just do my duty. I love you, no matter what the Mafia is."
Tears of emotion welled up in Alia's eyes. The playful smile on her lips melted away, giving birth to a deep love. She only uttered in an enchanted voice, "Viktor..."
No more words were needed. Viktor pulled Alia towards him, and their lips met in a deep, intense kiss. The luxurious palace around them, bathed in the light of the chandelier, seemed to be the silent witness to that emotional moment. Their coats, their identities—everything became insignificant against the background of that love. They stood locked in each other's embrace.
Their silent embrace seemed to declare: "Love beneath the ice... obeys no rules."The night was deep, marked by an intense cold and a blanket of white snow over a remote part of Moscow. Although the freezing wind and ice raged outside, the interior of the vast, ancient palace's hallway was warm, glowing with luxurious light. The slight dampness from the fresh snow on the marble floor had already evaporated, but the warmth in Alia and Viktor's hearts seemed to defy the outside chill.
After a deep, intense kiss, they smiled, looking at each other. The mischievous spark in Alia's honey-golden eyes was now brighter, while Viktor's blue eyes were filled with profound affection. Adjusting the collar of her long fur coat, Alia took Viktor's hand. They walked together toward the elegantly adorned staircase at the end of the hall. In their movements, there was no trace of their professional identities—just two individuals surrendered to each other in this moment.
Reaching the foot of the stairs, Alia gently tugged at Viktor's hand. The smile was still on her face, but a slight worry clouded her eyes.
"If this is our 'Love Beneath the Ice,' what then of your 'Officer' title, Viktor?" Alia whispered, careful not to let her words break the immense silence of the palace. "Tomorrow morning, you must put on that stern uniform again and attend your
Viktor paused for a moment, bent down, and gently kissed Alia's hand. The warmth of his lips banished the cold from her skin. "Officer? Forget it. Within these four walls, I am only your man, Alia. The man who cannot live without you. This uniform is my mask, my shield—no matter what happens outside."
They began to climb the stairs together, Viktor's arm securely around Alia's waist. The light from the crystal chandelier overhead illuminated everything around them like gold. Alia rested her head on Viktor's shoulder, murmuring, "But the outside world? Moscow? My family? You are still the Mafia Lord who handles all his business in broad daylight, wearing that 'Police' disguise."
At this, Viktor stopped halfway up the stairs and turned to Alia. His blue eyes, though full of love, clearly reflected the internal struggle and ruthlessness of a Mafia boss. He moved his hand from Alia's cheek to his collar, as if feeling the mercilessness of his Mafia identity pressing beneath the fabric of his uniform.
"I know, Alia," Viktor's voice dropped, sounding heavy with the burden of secrecy. "For this moment, I have put my Mafia persona to sleep. As soon as I step out of this house, the game will begin again. I will hunt my enemies, and you will live your innocent life outside my world of crime. But this night… this night is only ours. Our secret, a haven beneath the ice."
Alia leaned in and lightly kissed Viktor's forehead, as if trying to erase the lines of fate drawn there. She accepted this dangerous truth.
"So, our secret affair?" Alia whispered. "How long will it last, Mr. Mafia Lord?"
Viktor embraced Alia tighter. "Until this city either bows completely under my rule. In the midst of this double life, our love will remain a secret. This is our vow."
They reached the top step of the stairs. There stood a massive, intricately carved wooden door. Alia reached out her hand toward it, but Viktor gently touched hers.
Viktor said, "We are going inside, Alia. Where neither the color of my uniform nor the rules of my Mafia world can reach us."
Alia looked up at him, giving him an enchanted, calm smile. "Our rules… beneath the ice."
They pushed the door open and stepped inside. The door slowly closed behind them, seemingly severing them from the outside world. The snowstorm outside intensified, and muffled by the heavy wind, the faint sound of a police siren drifted—an ominous signal of the danger surrounding Viktor's double life and their secret love.
Where the mask is the truth, love is a secret weapon.Continuing the scene, standing before the door after climbing the stairs
Viktor pulled Alia closer right in front of the massive door and turned to face her. His blue eyes locked onto Alia's with intense focus. Alia still wore a playful smile, thinking Viktor's double life was the grandest secret in their relationship. But Viktor's next words instantly stunned her.
Viktor subtly loosened the collar of his uniform and offered a chilling smile. "You are not merely a regular, innocent woman, Alia. Did you think I was just a Mafia Lord? It is you who is my true Mafia God-mother."
Alia's smile vanished. Her honey-colored eyes narrowed with curiosity and immediate caution.
Viktor lowered his voice further, a cold certainty in his tone. "I know, Alia Isroovna. You are not just a billionaire's daughter or anyone else… you are a CIA Agent. And you don't have one job, or two… you have a total of three jobs. One for the CIA, one for the life of a twenty-four-year-old billionaire, and the third… to be the queen at the heart of my Mafia empire."
Alia nearly stopped breathing. In an instant, she realized she wasn't alone in this high-stakes game; Viktor knew all her secrets too. However, Alia quickly regained her composure. Bringing back that mischievous smile, she struck back.
Alia: Whispering, with fierce confidence"Well! I am not surprised, Mr. Lord. Are you any less? You are not just a Mafia Lord; by daylight, you are the Police Officer who is making a fool of all Moscow! You are also a billionaire. Our secret night, it seems, is a trigonometric union of two billionaires, one CIA Agent, and one Mafia Lord."
An electric spark passed between their eyes. Their secrets were now exposed. In this moment, their identities were no longer a barrier but a new foundation built on equal power and deep affection. They were two masterminds, both wearing masks, now facing each other completely.
Viktor lowered his head and chuckled—a sound of acknowledgment and acceptance. "Let's go inside, Alia. From now on, this palace will be the center of our power."
They pushed the door open and entered. The door slowly closed behind them.
The story will continue from this point, where they are now aware of each other's secret identities.The night was deep. Even the luxurious warmth of the enormous palace seemed unable to truly touch the biting coldness of the outside snow. Viktor was lost in a deep sleep on a soft bed.
A faint light scattered through the dark room, originating from a white piano across the chamber. Alia was sitting in front of the piano. She was dressed in a white, thin gown, so vast that from a distance it looked like a wedding dress. She was engrossed in playing one of her favorite songs. The melody was melancholic yet serene, like a cold wind sweeping over the ice.
Suddenly, Viktor woke up. He opened his eyes and saw Alia. Her back was turned towards him, but her white attire and the enchanting melody captured his complete attention.
Viktor whispered her name, "Alia?"
Alia continued to play the piano. Viktor then looked past Alia's shoulder toward the massive window. Beyond the glass was the night sky. And that sky seemed to be on fire—the horizon was covered in the green and purple glow of the Aurora Ice. In that intense, shimmering light, Alia's profile became visible.
Viktor saw that as Alia played the piano, light tears were streaming down her face. The tears shimmered in the Aurora's light. Viktor's heart clenched. Why this sorrow? Why these tears after such a profound declaration of love?
Viktor rose from the bed and started moving towards Alia, driven by the urge to unravel the mystery veiled by the silent Aurora. The green-purple light flooded the dark room. Alia was still playing her favorite song with intense emotion. The melody sounded like the secret lament of a world covered in ice, yet it was also a silent pledge of love.
As Viktor watched her, Alia continued her playing, but then, she suddenly opened her eyes completely. Her honey-colored eyes seemed to blaze, piercing through the intense light of the Aurora. It looked as if the mysterious fire of the Aurora was reflecting directly through her pupils. Her gaze was filled with an astonishing, ethereal beauty.
Her long, wavy honey-brown and golden hair was spread out over the piano chair, and it shimmered in the Aurora's light in such a way that to Viktor, Alia seemed like a celestial angel seated before the piano. Her white gown, her tears, and the glow of her hair in the Aurora's light—everything combined made her look like a mysterious goddess, beyond this world.
The faint tears still clung to Alia's eyes, appearing even brighter in the reflection of the Aurora. The sight stirred a tempest in Viktor's heart—such beauty, such sorrow, such power! Viktor could no longer restrain himself. He stood up, and every step he took led him closer to the piano. In this moment, all his questions, all his professional identities were trivial. Only Alia, her piano, her tears, and the mysterious light of the Aurora were his sole world.