Alia's soul-shaking sobs repeatedly shattered the heavy silence of the room. Her body trembled with a mixture of terror and humiliation. She kept her face buried in her palms, weeping uncontrollably. But seeing her utter helplessness didn't spark a single drop of mercy in Victor's stone-cold heart; instead, his gaze grew even more lethal.
In one swift motion, Victor yanked her hands away from her face. His iron-like grip left red marks on her delicate wrists. He growled in a low, thunderous voice that vibrated through the room:
"Shut up! Not another sound, Alia! Your crying is like poison in my ears. Not one more drop of a tear shall fall!"
Alia gasped, trying to choke back her hiccups, but her body wouldn't stop shaking. Victor leaned in so close their noses were almost touching. He wiped a tear from her cheek with his thumb, speaking in a voice laced with a strange, dark gravity:
"Did you think I was some romantic hero like Dimitri? No, Alia. I am not a 'good man,' but I am not a mindless devil either. I am a— 'Morally Grey Alpha', okay?"
He paused, staring into the depths of her eyes with a predatory elegance, and continued:
"When an Alpha claims someone as his own, he acknowledges no rules. Just as I can burn the entire world to protect you, I can also commit the most heinous acts to keep you under my thumb. I am not 'good,' Alia... I am simply the only 'inevitable' truth in your life."
Victor leaned in even closer, his lips brushing against her ear as he whispered:
"Now decide—will you rule by this Alpha's side as his Queen, or will you spend your life weeping beneath his boots? Because the option to escape... I deleted that a long time ago."
Highlights of this Chapter:
The Alpha Command: Victor's roar silenced Alia's rebellious spirit, replacing it with cold realization.
The Morally Grey Identity: Victor defines himself as an Alpha who exists between light and shadow his love is indistinguishable from obsession.
The Final Choice: Alia realizes she is trapped in a cage where her captor is also her only protector.Victor's cruelty reached its peak. He pulled out his phone and played that dark video. Looking at the screen, Alia saw her own horrific helplessness how she was sobbing, how Victor was dominating her. The sound of her cries in the video combined with the silence of the room turned the place into a living hell.
Holding the phone close to Alia's ear, Victor said coldly:
"Look at yourself, Alia. This is your truth. Every time you think of escaping, I will show you this. This is the deed to your slavery."
With that, he tossed the phone aside. Showing no mercy, he dragged Alia from the sofa and onto the massive, royal bed in the corner of the room. Alia tried to resist, but her efforts were futile against Victor's muscular frame.
As she lay recoiling in fear on the bed, the thought of her 5 children flashed through her mind. She thought about how scared they must be in her absence. Their innocent faces appeared before her eyes. What would be the future of her children in this filthy mafia war? What if Victor controlled them like this too?
Alia screamed out:
"Victor, for God's sake! Think about my children. They are scared... they are looking for me! Even if you aren't their father, you are still a human!"
Victor loomed over her, pinning her hands to the bed. There was no humanity in his eyes. He mocked:
"The children? They are sleeping now, Alia. And they will stay safe only as long as their mother remains submissive to me. The lives of those 5 children now depend on your surrender in this bed. The more you rebel, the more they are in danger."
Alia realized Victor hadn't just captured her; he had imprisoned her motherhood as well. She went limp on the bed, her tears soaking the pillow. Victor threw his shirt aside and descended upon her, like a hungry dragon ready to consume its prey.It was nearly 3:00 AM. The lights had been dimmed even further, leaving only a dark blue haze. From the bedside drawer, Victor pulled out two items: a bright red silk ribbon and a pair of pink handcuffs.
As Alia sobbed, thinking of her five children, Victor silently pressed the red ribbon over her eyes.
"There is too much rebellion in your eyes, Alia. Too many words. Tonight, I won't tolerate that gaze. You will feel everything, but see nothing."
Victor firmly tied the red blindfold over her eyes. Instantly, her world went pitch black. Her helplessness intensified; she could no longer anticipate his next move.
Then, Victor pulled her hands above her head. With a cold, metallic click, he locked the pink handcuffs onto her wrists. The pink color felt like a cruel mockery of her femininity. He snapped the cuffs to the headboard of the bed.
Alia cried out:
"Victor! Please, unlock my hands! I can't see anything... I'm scared! At least for the sake of my children, let me go!"
Victor leaned into the crook of her neck, his hot breath burning against her skin. He whispered darkly:
"Do not mention the children again. In this moment, you are not a mother; you are only mine. These pink handcuffs are here to remind you that you are my caged bird. And the red ribbon? That is the wall separating you from the rest of the world."
Victor wiped a stray tear from the corner of her mouth with his thumb. In a voice thick with the scent of red wine, he added:
"Lie still, Alia. When the Dragon decorates his prey, it does not suit the prey to struggle."
Lying in the darkness, Alia could only hear the frantic thumping of her own heart. With a red veil over her eyes and pink iron on her wrists, she realized her life was now entirely at the mercy of this 'Morally Grey Alpha.'The clock struck 3:15 AM. The room was bathed in a suffocating blue haze, thick with the scent of red wine and expensive cologne. Alia lay there, blinded by the red silk ribbon, her wrists trapped in the pink handcuffs. She couldn't see anything, making every touch from Victor feel like an electric shock of terror.
Victor finally began his "Real Game." He climbed onto the bed, his heavy frame looming over her like a predator. He reached down and seized both of her legs, his iron grip bruising her skin as he pulled her toward the center of the bed.
Alia screamed into the darkness:
"Victor! What are you doing? Let me go! Ahhh... you're hurting me!"
Victor didn't offer a word of comfort. Instead, he reached for the wine glass he had left on the nightstand. With a cruel deliberation, he began to pour the remaining dark red liquid over her stomach. The ice-cold wine made Alia's body arch and shudder violently against the mattress.
Victor leaned down, his lips grazing her ear as he whispered in a gravelly tone:
"There is no mercy tonight, Alia. I told you I am the Morally Grey Alpha. I don't just want you; I want to break the very idea of anyone else ever touching you. Your struggles, your cries... they are the music I've waited years to hear."
He forced her legs apart, asserting his absolute dominance. He glanced at his phone, ensuring the camera was still capturing every second of her undoing. He looked directly into the lens and smirked:
"Look at her, Dimitri. Your 'Queen' is nothing but a trembling doll in my hands now. She belongs to the Dragon."
Alia felt her spirit fracturing. The combination of the blindfold, the cold wine, and Victor's overwhelming physical power made her feel like she was drowning in a dark sea. Victor pressed his full weight against her, crushing her into the pillows as he moved to claim his final, absolute victory.Alia tried to resist one last time with all her remaining strength. In the pitch blackness of the blindfold, she shook her head and screamed, "No, Victor! Please... no more! I can't take this anymore. Have mercy!" Her voice cracked with sobs, and the pink handcuffs rattled against the iron headboard with a sharp, metallic ring.
But Victor wasn't there for mercy tonight. Alia's "no" only fueled the fire of his obsession. He descended upon her, his hot breath crashing against her tear-stained cheeks.
In a low, gravelly voice, Victor said:
"That 'no' carries no meaning to me tonight, Alia. I told you before—I am not your hero. The more you refuse, the more I will remind you exactly who you belong to."
Victor gripped her chin firmly so she couldn't turn away. He then leaned in and whispered darkly into her ear, nipping at the lobe:
"A 'Morally Grey Alpha' never asks for permission; he only takes what is his. After tonight, your 'no' will vanish forever. You will only scream my name."
Ignoring her protests, Victor began to exert his final, absolute dominance. The red ribbon over Alia's eyes was now heavy and soaked with tears, but Victor's hands remained as steady as stone. He forced her into an experience where pain and a terrifying intoxication blurred into one.
Alia realized she had lost this war. Victor hadn't just taken her body; he had conquered her every inhibition.