When Alia realized her rebellion hadn't suppressed Victor but had instead fueled his fire, she went silent. She pulled his oversized black overcoat over her shoulders. The contrast of the black coat over the white shirt gave her a mysterious, haunted look, but her eyes remained fixed on Victor.
Victor stood leaning against the doorframe, saying nothing. He pulled an expensive cigar from his pocket, his wicked smirk deepening. He looked her up and down, his gaze scanning her like a predator calculating his next move.
With a flick of his chin, he signaled her to come closer. As she approached, Victor wrapped a lock of her hair around his finger and whispered:
"Do you know why I'm laughing, Alia? Because you think you've provoked me... but in reality, you've only tangled yourself deeper into my web. Where I'm taking you today, forget your Korean prince—even God won't be able to hear your screams."
Victor unfurled the black blindfold in his hand. He leaned in, his breath cold against her lips as he gave her a chillingly soft touch.
"Are you ready? Because once this journey begins, there is no road back."
He gestured to his bodyguards. They stepped in immediately, gripping Alia's arms. Victor himself tied the blindfold over her eyes, ensuring she would remain in total darkness, unable to track which corner of the city she was being taken to.
As they left the room, Victor's demonic laughter echoed through the corridors. Passing the rooms of his older brother and father, he shouted at the top of his lungs:
"I'm leaving! I'm taking my property to a place where no one will dare to touch her or even lay eyes on her!"Just as Victor was about to drag Alia away, his two white-haired sisters appeared again. This time, they weren't just angry—they were mocking him.
Elena clapped her hands and smirked, "Oh, big brother! Why all this drama? You're taking sister-in-law away, but have you thought about the 5 kids at home? When they start crying for their mother, who's going to handle them? You?"
Katrina chimed in, laughing, "Handling 5 crying kids isn't the same as being a mafia boss. When they scream and tear the house down, Father and Big Brother will come for you. Will you blindfold the kids and take them to your 'hell' too?"
For a split second, Victor froze. The mention of his children—his only weakness—hit a nerve. Alia felt a spark of hope. But Victor quickly regained his cold composure. He looked at his sisters and hissed:
"You are here to stop their crying, and so are my guards. Tell them their parents are on a long honeymoon. And don't you dare follow me, or I'll rip those pretty white hairs right off your heads!"
He dragged Alia toward the car without looking back.As Victor dragged Alia toward the car, his sisters resorted to the only weapon they had left—a curse.
Elena and Katrina locked hands, their white hair swirling in the cold draft. Elena shouted with a voice that shook the walls:
"Go then, Victor! But remember this: every tear those 5 children shed for their mother will turn into a volcano for you. You will find no peace! Your empire will crumble, and you will be defeated by your own blood!"
Katrina raised her hand toward the ceiling, screaming:
"Your cruelty will be your undoing! Alia, the woman you are dragging into darkness, will be the cause of your downfall. From this day on, whenever you close your eyes, you will only hear your children's cries. You will never sleep in peace, Victor! You will burn in the pain you have created!"
For a split second, the corridor lights flickered. Victor stiffened. He knew the weight of a Petrov family curse. But he forced a demonic laugh. "The king of hell doesn't fear curses. Your screams are only heavy air to me."
But Alia felt it. She felt Victor's hand tremble ever so slightly.Victor's patience, already thinned by the morning's scandals, finally snapped under the weight of his sisters' curses and their mention of his downfall.Losing all grip on his sanity, Victor didn't just shout back. In a flash of brutal movement, he backhanded both of his sisters with a violent force. The sound of the slaps echoed like gunshots through the hallway, sending Elena and Katrina crashing to the marble floor.
"You dare curse me?" Victor roared, his teeth bared like a predator. "Your tongues are getting too long for your own good! I should rip those silver locks right out of your heads!"
But before he could step toward them again, a sharp, commanding voice sliced through his rage his mother.
She had been watching from the shadows of the upper balcony, but seeing her daughters hit was her breaking point. She descended the stairs with the grace of a queen and the fury of a storm, roaring at Victor to stand down.
"Enough, Victor!" she screamed, her voice trembling with authority. "Lower your hand! Have you gone completely mad? You would strike your own sisters? Your own flesh and blood?"
She rushed to the floor, pulling Elena and Katrina into her arms. She looked up at Victor, her eyes burning with a cold, maternal fire.
"Your father and your brother might fear your temper, but I am the one who gave you life. Mark my words, Victor: a man who does not know how to respect the women of his own household is a man whose empire is built on sand. Take Alia wherever you want, but my fury and your sisters' tears will follow you into every dark corner of your world!"
For a heartbeat, Victor wavered. The sight of his mother the only person he truly respected standing against him made his grip on Alia's arm loosen for a second. But his obsession was a sickness that ran deeper than his loyalty.
He tightened his hold on the blindfolded, trembling Alia and growled back:
"Stay out of this, Mother. Keep your daughters in line, and I will keep my property in mine. No one stops me today."
With that final act of defiance against his mother, he dragged Alia toward the grand exit. Behind them, the house was filled with the sounds of his sisters' sobbing and his mother's whispered prayers for his soul.When Victor's mother saw her son strike his sisters and drag Alia away like a beast, she exploded in a mix of pure hatred and heartbreak. She stood directly in his path, her voice trembling with disgust:
"Your father made the greatest mistake of his life! Why did he ever crown you as the Russian Mafia Lord? You don't have the dignity to hold this title! You should have learned to be a human before becoming a Lord. You are nothing but an animal, Victor!"
Hearing this raw truth from his mother's lips made Victor's jaw tighten until it nearly cracked. Instead of showing remorse, he did the unthinkable. He spat out a vicious, filthy slur directly at her face. He roared:
"Shut up, old woman! Stop your preaching. F#ck your morals and f#ck Father's Mafia title! Everything I do, I do by my own strength. You all only care about my wealth—don't pretend to care about my soul. Go back to your room and stay out of my way!"
His mother stood paralyzed. Hearing such foul language from her own flesh and blood felt like a physical blow to her heart. She clutched her chest, her legs giving way as she sank into a corner of the dining hall. Tears began to stream uncontrollably down her face. She could never have imagined that the son she raised would one day trample over her dignity so mercilessly.
Elena and Katrina rushed to their mother's side, sobbing as they held her. The mansion was no longer a home; it was a hall of lamentation.
Victor didn't look back for even a second. He dragged the blindfolded Alia out toward the waiting car. Though she couldn't see, Alia could hear the world collapsing behind her. She realized that today, Victor hadn't just kidnapped her he had set fire to his own bloodline.Just as Victor was about to drag Alia through the doors, his father stepped into the light. He wasn't holding his usual cane; instead, he gripped a loaded Golden Desert Eagle. His gaze was so frigid it felt harder and colder than stone.
The Patriarch took a slow, deliberate step forward. His presence silenced the entire hall, turning the air thick with tension. He didn't scream; he spoke in a low, terrifyingly calm whisper:
"Lower your hand, Victor. A single tear in your mother's eye is the grave of your title as Lord. Did you truly think you could insult the women of my house in front of me and walk away unscathed?"
Victor, who had been acting like a rabid beast just seconds ago, froze instantly. His grip on Alia's arm went limp. This was the only man on earth Victor truly feared. In front of his father, he was no longer a Mafia Lord; he was once again a disobedient child whose power had vanished into thin air.
Beads of cold sweat began to form on Victor's forehead. He began to stammer, his voice trembling:
"Father... I... I was just taking her away. Mother and my sisters were making a scene for no reason..."
His father pressed the cold barrel of the gun under Victor's chin. Victor's face went deathly pale.
"How dare you use such foul language toward the woman who gave you birth? Release Alia. Now. Take her back to her room. And as for you you will spend the night on the cold floor of the cellar's torture chamber. You need to remember that I made you a Lord, and I can just as easily destroy you."
Victor stood with his head bowed, his "wicked smirk" completely erased. He whispered in a shaky voice, "Yes, Father. I made a mistake." Even through her blindfold, Alia felt the legendary image of the iron-willed Victor crumble like a house of cards before his father's authority.