Moonlight washed the garden in silver when Viktor's eyes caught the slightest movement between the trees.
"There!" he said under his breath.
Alia knew instantly—she had been seen.
She broke from behind the trunk and ran in the opposite direction. Her body was soaked in blood, her breaths ragged, but her speed did not falter. Her footsteps were muffled by the wet grass.
Viktor turned sharply. The diamond Rolex was still in his hand. The anger in his eyes was gone, replaced by the sharp focus of a hunter.
"Alia!" he roared.
Her name tore through the night air.
Her chest trembled. He knew now.
She leapt over a hedge, crossed the stone path of the garden. Her vision blurred. She could not stop. Behind her, Viktor's footsteps were getting closer. The helicopter light circled again in the distance.
Moonlight, blood trails, and the silent chase of two people—the night itself seemed to hold its breath.
Suddenly, her foot slipped on the wet stone.
"Aah—!"
She steadied herself, but that single delay was enough.
Viktor's hand nearly caught her shoulder.
His fingers brushed the fabric of her jacket.
One second.
Their eyes met.
In the pale moonlight, her blood-streaked face became clear.
Viktor froze.
The hunter's hardness shattered into shock.
"You…!"
He couldn't finish.
Alia took the chance. She twisted and drove her elbow into his chest. He stepped back, but he did not fall. He had been ready.
She ran again—but now her body refused to obey. Blood loss, exhaustion, dizziness. Her sight dimmed.
Viktor did not call the guards.
He followed alone.
Something inside him had changed. This was no longer "capture the enemy."
This was "stop her before she collapses."
Alia staggered a few more steps.
Her knees gave way.
The world tilted.
She tried to stand. Failed.
Viktor reached her.
For a moment, he only stared.
The night was silent. The helicopter light had moved away.
He slowly knelt in front of her.
"So much blood… you fought alone?" he said quietly.
Alia forced her head up. Fire still burned in her eyes.
"You… came too late, Viktor…"
Her body fell forward.
Viktor caught her before she hit the ground.
The diamond watch in his hand was now red with her blood.
And for the first time—
Fear appeared on his face.
He held her tightly against his chest. His fingers searched for a pulse in her neck.
One second.
Two seconds.
His face drained of color.
"No… no… no…"
Her chest did not rise.
Snowflakes began to fall through the cold air. The ruined buildings in the distance glowed faintly from scattered fires.
He pressed his ear near her mouth.
No breath.
"Alia… open your eyes… please…"
His voice broke.
This man, who never showed emotion, was falling apart.
He wrapped his coat around her. His gloved hand touched her cold cheek.
"You can't leave me…"
The world was unbearably quiet.
Then—
A faint pulse touched his fingers.
So faint it could have been imagined.
He checked again.
It was there.
Weak.
But there.
"Alia… you're here. Stay with me. Stay with me…"
His voice shook, but command returned to it.
He spoke into his earpiece, "Medic team! Now! Garden sector—immediate extraction!"
The helicopter sound rose again.
He lifted her into his arms as if she were glass. He wrapped his coat tighter around her, trying to block the cold with his own body.
"Don't sleep… stay with me…"
The helicopter descended. Medics ran toward them with a stretcher.
Viktor would not let go.
"Careful… she's injured… very careful…"
Inside the helicopter, the lights flickered. The medics worked quickly, but Viktor still held her hand.
He pulled her gently into his lap.
Her head rested in the bend of his arm. Her breathing was almost invisible.
He leaned down and placed his lips softly on her forehead.
A long, silent kiss.
Not rushed. Not desperate.
Full of fear, regret, and tenderness.
"Come back to me… Alia," he whispered.
His forehead rested against hers. His eyes closed.
Around them, noise, motion, urgency.
But inside that moment
Everything stood still.
His hand stroked her hair.
And once more, very gently, he kissed her forehead.
This time like a prayer.Inside the helicopter, the noise of the blades roared above them, but Viktor heard nothing except the faint, fragile rhythm of Alia's breathing.
The medics were working fast—checking her pulse, blood pressure, shining lights into her eyes.
Viktor leaned forward, his blue eyes burning with fear and urgency.
He spoke sharply in Russian:
"Что с ней, доктор?! Она будет жить?!"
(What's wrong with her, doctor?! Will she live?!)
One of the medics pressed gauze against Alia's wound and replied quickly,
"Она потеряла много крови. Пульс очень слабый."
(She has lost a lot of blood. Her pulse is very weak.)
Viktor's jaw tightened.
"Сделайте что-нибудь! Немедленно!"
(Do something! Immediately!)
The medic injected something into Alia's arm and said,
"Мы стараемся стабилизировать её. Нужно срочно в больницу."
(We are trying to stabilize her. She needs a hospital immediately.)
Viktor looked back at Alia's pale face. A streak of blood still marked her cheek. Snowflakes had melted into her hair.
He lowered his voice, almost breaking:
"Держись, Алia… пожалуйста…"
(Hold on, Alia… please…)
His hand never left hers as the helicopter sped through the dark sky toward the hospital.Inside the helicopter, Victor's gaze froze for a moment. He quickly removed his gloves and gently splashed some water on Alia's cheek—wiping away the blood and sweat from her face.
Alia slowly opened her eyes. At first, she seemed disoriented, then a faint smile appeared on her lips. She reached out her hand toward Victor's cheek, touching it delicately and softly.
"Your cheek… it's beautiful," she said gently, her eyes shimmering with a subtle glow.
Victor gave a faint smile and nodded his head. Though he was still weighed down by the lingering fear and tension, Alia's small touch and words brought him a measure of relief.
The silence of the helicopter, the hum of its engines, and this strange intimacy between Alia and Victor—together created a soft, mysterious moment.
Alia's hand slowly lowered from Victor's cheek, yet her gaze remained fixed on him. The depth and strength of Victor's blue eyes still captivated her.
Victor nodded slowly, the tension and unrest inside him easing a little. He sat beside Alia, checking her bloodied body, making sure there were no serious injuries.
Alia steadied herself. Though blood and fatigue were still visible, her inner determination shone brighter than ever. She looked at Victor and smiled—a soft, shy, yet trusting smile.
"I'm okay," Alia said, "don't worry about me."
Victor remained quiet for a moment, then gradually allowed a small, gentle smile to appear.
"All right… but you'll have to let me stay by your side—always."
Alia's eyes sparkled—a mixture of gratitude, relief, and a playful glint—as she replied,
"Then we'll be together. Always."
The helicopter's lights moved farther away. Below, the ruins, the garden, and the cold night air made the moment even deeper and more unique.
Alia's hand slowly met Victor's, and the silent connection between them transformed into a mysterious, strong, and tender bond.
In that instant, the night, the cold, the storm—all of it was forgotten. It was just the two of them, and the invisible connection that tied them together.Alia was lying in bed at home, Victor sitting close by, holding her hand gently. The room was quiet, soft sunlight filtering through the curtains, but their bond filled the space with warmth.
Alia turned slightly to look at him, a playful glint in her eyes. She squeezed his hand lightly and said with a teasing smile,
"As your age keeps increasing… if you reach 6.5, I won't be able to hold you anymore."
She chuckled softly at her own words, the sound light and melodic. Victor's eyes widened for a brief moment, surprised by her teasing, then a slow, amused smile curved his lips.
Even in the calm of their home, surrounded by the remnants of past battles, this moment was intimate, tender, and full of quiet laughter. Alia's playful tone brought a rare softness to Victor, and for a brief instant, all the tension melted away, leaving only warmth and shared connection.Alia lay in the house, Victor sitting beside her holding her hand. The light was soft, the room calm, but there was a faint tension in the air.
Alia slowly turned to Victor and said,
"My sister, my twin Sophia Loren… you'll do everything with her just the way you did with me."
Her voice carried a strange mix of playfulness and mischief, yet Victor's gaze instantly locked on hers. He couldn't speak, only absorbed the depth in Alia's eyes and her natural confidence.
The room was silent, filled with the subtle playfulness from Alia and Victor's reaction—a strangely intimate moment formed.
Victor closed his eyes, stayed quiet for a moment, then spoke in a low, firm voice,
"But she's a traitor… I'm her brother-in-law."
Alia let out a soft laugh,
"I know."
There was a flicker of surprise and discomfort in Victor's eyes, but Alia's words brought an odd sense of calm. Silence returned to the room, yet the subdued tension between them remained as if words had been spoken, but everything was slowly returning to control.Alia suddenly exhaled, lost in a deep, immersive sleep. Her chest rose and fell slowly, the tension in her body melting away as if the world outside no longer existed. Her breathing was calm, rhythmic, almost dreamlike, showing how completely she was surrendered to rest. The room's soft light brushed her face, and Victor, still holding her hand, watched quietly, careful not to disturb her peaceful slumber.
Her moment of deep sleep created a fragile calm a pause between all the chaos and intensity that had filled their day.