In the dim blue light, Alia's chest heaved rapidly, and the blue phoenix tattoo seemed to quiver in the rising heat. The effects of Victor's special tab were now surging through her veins.
Heated Body and Pulse: Tiny beads of sweat began to form on Alia's pale skin. The blue phoenix tattoo on her chest looked as if it were truly fluttering its wings in the heat. Due to her shallow, quick breaths, the ink seemed to dance—a sight that made Victor's predatory eyes glow even brighter.
Loss of Control: The filthy slurs Alia had been shouting just moments ago were now replaced by incoherent moans. Her blue eyes were glazing over with intoxication. She was no longer rattling her handcuffs to escape; instead, she was unconsciously gripping them tighter.
Victor's Dominance: Seeing her state, Victor let out a sinister grin of satisfaction. He leaned in, his hot breath hitting her ear again as he whispered, "What is it, my God-Mother? Are a thousand phoenixes fluttering inside you right now? That chocolate is speaking in your blood now."
Alia's Surrender: Alia could no longer restrain herself. She murmured in a strained voice— "ahhhhh... Victor... you are so bad... ummmm... it hurts... don't hurt me anymore..." Her voice held no more pride, only a primal plea.Victor's inner darkness was now fully satisfied. Alia's helplessness, instead of stopping him, fueled him further. He knew the tab had caused her to lose control over her body, and this was the perfect moment for him.
Cruel Use of Handcuffs: Victor pulled Alia's handcuffed hands even higher against the bed's headboard. Though she shivered in pain, the fire of desire burning inside her was far more intense. Victor leaned down and bit into her neck and shoulder. A long cry escaped her— "ahhhhhhh... Victor, I can't take it anymore!"
The Burning Union: Victor placed his hot palm right in the center of the blue phoenix tattoo. He could feel how fast her heart was racing. Showing no mercy, he forced her back into those wild positions. Her body arched like a bow, her blue eyes rolling back in a daze of pure intoxication.
Spreading the Fire: The dim blue light in the room seemed to turn into a fiery red. Victor marked his ownership over every curve of her sweat-drenched body. Alia was no longer insulting him; instead, she was incoherently chanting his name "Victor... please... more... ummmm... ahhhh!"
Drowning in Darkness: Victor gave her no chance to speak. He dragged her into an abyss of desire from which there was no return. Her pride, her nobility, her persona as the God-Mother everything was crushed under Victor's feet tonight.The night is almost over. The first grey light of dawn peeks through the curtains. The intense blue light of the room has faded. Victor is panting, his body drenched in sweat. He moves away from Alia and collapses onto one side of the bed.
Victor's Cold Silence: Victor didn't fall asleep. He reached for a cigarette and lit it. Exhaling smoke, he stared fixedly at the ceiling. The wild excitement in his eyes had been replaced by the ice-cold arrogance of a winner. He didn't even look at Alia, as if everything that happened was just a game.
Alia's Devastated State: Alia is still trapped in the handcuffs. Her hair is a mess, and there's dried blood at the corner of her lip. The effect of the tab is slowly wearing off, replaced by intense humiliation and physical pain. She lies motionless, tears streaming down her face. She no longer has the strength to insult him.
The Final Blow: Victor crushed his cigarette in the ashtray. Then, leaning into Alia's ear, he whispered in a dangerously low voice
"It's dawn, Alia. The high from the tab will fade, but the scars of this night will stay forever, just like that phoenix tattoo. From now on, whenever you look in the mirror, remember exactly who held you captive.Victor stood up, his shadow stretching across the floor. Alia had lost the strength to move, but her blue eyes remained wide open, fixed on him. There was no pride left in her gaze—only a hollow void and unspoken resentment.
Victor's Hesitation: Victor pulled the key from his pocket. He glanced at Alia, pausing for a moment as her steady gaze met his. Was he afraid? No, fear didn't exist in Victor's dictionary. He was simply observing how broken his prey had become.
The Metallic Sound: He stepped closer. Alia's breathing was still heavy. Without a word, he inserted the key. 'Click'—the sound echoed in the silent room. As the handcuffs released, Alia's arms fell limp onto the bed, her wrists bruised and swollen.
Alia's Stillness: Even after being freed, Alia didn't try to cover herself or attack him. She just kept staring into his eyes. That tearless, fixed gaze pierced Victor more than a thousand insults ever could.
A Cold Departure: Victor tossed the key onto the bed and checked his reflection in the vanity mirror. Putting on his shirt, he said, "I've freed your hands, Alia. But remember, the key to leaving this room is still with me. You stay here today."Two months later. The scene has shifted from the dark roomssnow-covered plains of Alaska.
Alia's Royal Presence: Alia is skating on a private rink. She's wearing a luxury white fox-fur coat and a silver-stoned bodysuit. As she glides, every move screams power. Her blue eyes glow against the ice.
Victor's Silent Watch: Victor sits nearby in a leather chair, puffing on a cigar. He watches her intently, amazed at how the woman he once broke is now flying across the ice.
The Fall: Suddenly, Alia loses her balance and crashes onto the hard ice. The physical pain triggers the emotional trauma she had been hiding. She breaks down, crying softly on the ice.
The Approach: Victor drops his cigar and walks over. He kneels before her, lifting her chin. He whispers, "What happened, God-Mother? Tears over a small fall? You are the phoenix. Get up; this ice isn't worth your tears."Alia was crying on the ice, but the moment Victor approached her with that familiar 'God-Mother' address, her sorrow turned into sharp, biting sarcasm. She wiped her tears and brushed his hand away with a jerk.
Alia's Counter-Attack: Still sitting on the ice, Alia looked into Victor's eyes and gave a strange, mocking laugh. She mimicked his tone and snapped— "What happened, 'God-Mother'? Are you crazy? Do you really think your dramatic pity is going to work on me?"
Belittling Victor: Brushing off her expensive fur coat, she laughed and added, "The man who handcuffed me and drugged me with chocolate two months ago is now here to wipe my tears! How strange! Have you lost your mind, Victor? Or are you getting senile in your old age?"
The Cold Stare: There were no more tears in her eyes, only the fire of revenge. She pointed at him and said, "Stop this 'God-Mother' act. I know you just don't want to see your toy break. But remember, Victor as cold as this Alaskan ice is, the hatred inside me is even colder."Victor wasn't one to back down after being called 'old' or 'crazy.' He exhaled a long trail of smoke, a cruel yet captivating smirk on his lips. He leaned in closer to tower over Alia.
Victor's Provocation: Setting his cigar aside, Victor pretended to fix Alia's messy hair. He said mockingly, "Ahhh... Is the God-Ma angry? But darling, you know—if you get angry, you lose. Your rage is my biggest victory. When you tremble with anger, that's when you lose control the most."
Alia's Retaliation: Alia couldn't take it anymore. She shoved his hand away and screamed— "Shut up! Just shut up! Keep your lectures to yourself!"
The Struggle on Ice: Fuming with rage, Alia tried to stand up. When Victor tried to help, she pushed him with all her might. A wild scuffle broke out on the ice. They grabbed each other, neither willing to let go on the slippery surface.
The Clash: Alia yanked Victor's coat collar hard, while Victor wrapped his arms around her waist, trying to pin her down. In the desolate wilderness of Alaska, only the sound of their heavy breathing and the scuffle on the ice could be heard. It was an ancient battle, less about hurting and more about dominating each other.Their struggle on the ice had turned into a moment of pure, raw intensity. Alia's expensive white fur coat was now messy with snow, its glamour ruined, but the defiance in her eyes remained unbroken. They both lay on the ice, panting, their warm breath turning into mist in the freezing Alaskan air.
Alia's Unyielding Spirit: Alia pressed her hands against Victor's chest, her nails digging into the fabric of his expensive overcoat. Panting, she said, "Did you think it would be so easy to pin me down? I'm not that weak girl from two months ago, Victor!"
Victor's Cruel Attraction: Victor was laughing—a dangerous yet mesmerized laugh. He grabbed both of Alia's wrists in one hand, pinning her against the ice. The weight of his body combined with the chill of the ice created a strange sensation. He leaned inches away from her face and whispered, "This is exactly what you wanted too, isn't it Alia? As much as I enjoy seeing your expensive coat ruined in the snow, I enjoy your breathlessness even more."
Intense Proximity: Despite the biting cold of Alaska, the heat between them seemed to warm the surrounding air. Alia struggled desperately to break free, but Victor's muscular frame kept her rooted. Her messy hair was splayed across her face and the frozen ground.The struggle on the ice suddenly took an unexpected turn. Victor realized that dominating Alia was far more satisfying than just holding her down. With a sudden burst of his monstrous strength, he yanked her up from the ice.
Victor's Towering Height: Standing at 6'5", Victor looked like a giant against the grey Alaskan sky. His muscular frame and broad shoulders completely overwhelmed her.
Alia's Transformation: Alia had grown too. Standing at 6'2" now, her long legs in that silver skating dress made her look like a statuesque Greek goddess. Yet, against Victor's 6'5" stature, she still seemed like a defiant girl.
Carrying Her Like a Child: As Alia raised her hand to push him away, Victor effortlessly swept her off her feet, carrying her like a child. Her legs dangled in the air. He lifted her so easily, as if she weighed nothing at all.
Alia's Reaction: Startled by the sudden height, Alia instinctively gripped Victor's shoulders. Holding her tight against his chest, Victor leaned in and whispered, "Do you think being 6'2" makes you big enough? To me, you're still that same stubborn girl I can pick up whenever I want."