It was 2:00 AM. A heavy, suffocating silence hung over the entire palace, broken only by the sound of ragged breathing and the electric heat inside the room. Under the weight of Victor's relentless embrace and his untamed obsession, Alia felt her strength finally beginning to wither. Every wall she had built around her heart and mind was on the verge of collapsing.
As Victor buried his face in the curve of her neck with a maddening intensity, Alia let out a soft, broken cry almost a whimper:
"Victor... I can't take any more. Please... be gentle."
The sound of her vulnerable plea hit Victor like a physical blow, causing him to freeze for a split second. His heated body remained pressed against hers like a heavy stone. He lifted his head, locking eyes with her. Alia's eyes were glistening with unshed tears, and her lips were trembling.
Victor reached out with his hand still stained with the dry blood from the fight and touched her cheek with surprising tenderness. Although the same murderous intoxication lingered in his gaze, seeing her this helpless made something deep inside him flicker. He whispered in a low, husky tone:
"You were the one who pushed me into this fire, Alia. Now that I've lost all control, you're asking me to stop?"
Alia couldn't find the words to answer; she simply dug her nails into Victor's broad shoulders, clinging to him. Victor slowed his pace, but the intensity did not fade. He placed a long, lingering kiss on her forehead and murmured:
"I want you to feel me, Alia. I want this night to leave a mark on you forever a scar that you can never erase, no matter how hard you try."
His movements became slower, more deliberate, but deeper and more agonizingly intimate. He pulled her into the hollow of his chest, holding her as if the world were trying to tear her away from him.Victor's voice sounded like a sea drowning in deep darkness. He pulled Alia's trembling body even closer. His own heartbeat was thumping against Alia's ribs. He gripped her chin firmly, tilting her face up so she was forced to look directly into his eyes.
Releasing his hot breath against Alia's lips, Victor spoke in a commanding tone:
"Take deep breaths, Alia. Don't hold it in. Look at me—keep your eyes on mine. Let me see what's happening inside you."
Whenever Alia tried to close her eyes out of pain or overwhelming sensation, Victor insisted with even more stubbornness:
"Don't look away. This is what happens when you get intimate—everything turns upside down. I want you to feel every single touch of mine. I want you to see that this monster is now driven mad just by the addiction of you."
Victor's gaze seemed to reach into the very depths of Alia's soul. Between Alia's rapid breathing and the pressure of Victor's muscular frame, an unbearable yet intoxicating atmosphere was created. Alia realized that Victor wasn't just trying to conquer her with his body, but with his gaze as well.Morning arrived. In the primitive and cold wilderness of Alaska, the dawn light began to break. Outside the window, the sound of unknown snowbirds chirping and the fluttering of their wings could be heard among the rows of pine trees. After the catastrophic storm of last night, the singing of these birds created a strange contrast.
Inside the room, the atmosphere was still heavy. Victor lay fast asleep very close to Alia, a strange sense of peace now resting on his otherwise monstrous features. As Alia looked past the window, she saw the vast, snow-covered mountains of Alaska turning silver under the morning sun. The melodic chirping of the birds seemed to remind Alia that she was still alive, and the battle was far from over.
"...не уходи... Алия... останься..." (...যেো না... আলিয়া... থেকো...)
ভিক্টরের মতো একজন নিষ্ঠুর মানুষের মুখে এই অসহায় বিড়বিড়ানি শুনে আলিয়ার বুকটা ধক করে উঠল। সে বুঝতে পারল, এই লোকটা বাইরে যতই দানব হোক না কেন, ভেতরে সে আলিয়ার নেশায় কতটা নিঃস্ব।
English Translation:
As the morning light filtered through the curtains, a melancholy yet ethereal glow appeared on Alia's face. Victor was still in a deep sleep, a stray lock of hair falling over his forehead. Alia gently brushed Victor's hair back with her fingers. There was no hatred in her touch; instead, there was a strange sense of possessiveness.
Even in his sleep, Victor's subconscious was unwilling to let her go. He held Alia's waist in a tight grip, as if she might vanish like mist the moment he loosened his hold.
Victor began muttering something in a very low, raspy whisper. Alia leaned in closer to listen. In his broken voice, there was no command, only a deep, raw plea:
"...не уходи... Алия... останься..." > (...don't go... Alia... stay...)
Hearing such a vulnerable mumble from a man as ruthless as Victor made Alia's heart skip a beat. She realized that no matter how much of a monster he was on the outside, inside, he was utterly consumed and hollowed out by his addiction to her.In the midst of Victor's intimate embrace, Alia's phone vibrated. Carefully loosening Victor's grip just enough, she reached for the phone on the nightstand. Seeing a call from her eldest daughter, a soft, maternal glow instantly washed over Alia's face.
Victor was still holding Alia's waist tightly in his sleep. Alia answered the call and began speaking in a very low whisper, careful not to wake him.
From the other end, her daughter's sweet voice drifted in—she was likely missing her mother. To soothe her, Alia began telling her a story. It wasn't just any fairy tale; she told the story of a brave princess trapped in a monster's palace in a land of ice, who never lost her self-respect.
Through the story, Alia murmured:
"You know, sweetheart, that princess wasn't afraid. Because she knew that the darker the night, the brighter the dawn. She didn't hate the monster; instead, she felt pity for his loneliness. The princess knew that one day, using her wisdom, she would walk out of that snowy palace..."
As she told the story, Alia absentmindedly ran her fingers through Victor's hair. Hearing the soothing vibration of Alia's voice in his sleep, Victor pulled her even closer, as if her calm voice was the ultimate cure for his restless soulThe atmosphere in the room shifted from tension to a raw, soul-shattering revelation. Victor stood there, his world spinning as Alia's words struck him like a physical blow. His eyes, usually cold and calculating, were now filled with a haunting confusion, as if he were lost in a labyrinth of his own mind.
Alia reached out, touching his cheek, her voice sharp and cutting through his haze:
"You are her real father, Victor! What happened? Did you forget everything? Has your memory deteriorated so much that you can't even recognize your own blood?"
Victor jerked away from her, stumbling out of bed. He clutched his forehead, pacing the room like a caged animal. Faded, dusty memories began to flood his mind—the screeching tires of that old accident, the cold pavement soaked in blood, and the long, dark years of amnesia where his identity was a void. All the pieces were finally starting to align.
Suddenly, he stopped and slammed his fist into the wall with a deafening thud. His knuckles split, blood trickling down, but he didn't even flinch. He spun around, his voice cracking as he shouted at Alia:
"Don't lie to me, Alia! If I am her father, why did you leave me alone in this hell? Why didn't you remind me that I had a family, a life, an identity?"
Alia climbed out of bed and stood directly in front of him, her posture rigid and defiant. Despite the tears blurring her vision, her voice was as hard as stone:
"Because you turned yourself into a monster! I tried to save you, but you chose this dark world. Today, when my daughter called you 'Papa,' did that man inside you finally wake up?"
The great, ruthless Victor finally broke. He collapsed to his knees at Alia's feet, wrapping his arms around her waist, and sobbed uncontrollably. It was a sight no one had ever seen—the dreaded mafia don reduced to a broken man seeking redemption.
He began to mumble in a shattered voice, "I forgot... I truly forgot everything, Alia. Forgive me..."All the hardness in Alia's heart melted like wax. She slowly knelt down on the floor in front of Victor and took his bloodied, trembling hands into hers. With deep affection, Alia kissed the back of Victor's hand.
Looking into Victor's eyes, she spoke in a calm, ethereal voice:
"Don't cry, Victor. I am here. Everything will be okay again. Do you realize how big your responsibility is? You aren't alone; you are the father of 5 children, do you understand? Those five little souls are waiting for you to come back."
Victor was still sobbing, his face buried against Alia. Hearing the words 'father of 5 children,' he felt the weight of his existence in a completely new way. He looked up at Alia; his tears were mixed with the blood from his nose, but the demonic glint in his eyes was gone.
He whispered in a choked voice:
"I know... I know it all, Alia. There is no forgiveness for my crimes, but for the sake of those five children, I have to become human again. I don't want to be the king of this darkness anymore. Take me to my children."
Alia wiped away his tears and pulled him into a warm embrace. In that cold Alaskan morning, a new dawn began inside the room one where hatred and revenge were replaced by lost love and the bond of family.The cold Alaskan afternoon felt unusually beautiful today. Everywhere was covered in a blanket of white snow, and Victor and Alia were walking side by side on the ice. Victor was dressed in a heavy black long coat, while Alia wore a pure white fur jacket.
The most enchanting part of the scene was the Russian cat nestled in Alia's arms. The cat's thick white fur and piercing blue eyes seemed to blend perfectly with the snowy landscape. It sat calmly in her embrace, as if sensing the newfound peace between the couple.
Victor had one arm wrapped protectively around Alia's shoulder. His once-murderous gaze was now soft and reflective. Occasionally, he reached down to stroke the cat's head.
Victor murmured, "You know, Alia... my life could have been as pure and quiet as this cat, if only I hadn't stepped into that darkness."
Alia smiled, a radiance that seemed to brighten even the fading afternoon sun. She replied, "Don't think about the past anymore. Imagine how happy our children will be when they see you've brought them this beautiful cat!"
The only sounds were the crunch of ice beneath their boots and the distant whistle of the wind against the mountains. After years of conflict, Victor and Alia were finally walking in harmony across the frozen wilderness.