Alia looked into Victor's eyes and gave a magical yet melancholy smile. Her other hand had been hidden in the folds of her nightie. Suddenly, in the blink of an eye, she pulled out a small syringe. Before Victor could even process what was happening, she plunged the needle into her own neck.
"No!" Victor screamed, but it was already too late.
Alia injected the entire contents into her bloodstream and tossed the syringe onto the floor. Her body immediately began to shudder. Victor dropped his gun and gathered her into his arms. She slumped against him, her red silk dress blending with the metaphorical color of the blood she was spilling.
In a broken voice, she whispered one last time:
"Victor... I told you... I wanted freedom from this game. Now, live the rest of your life in doubt... did I kill your child... or was I never even yours to begin with? Goodbye, my dear monster..."
Her eyes slowly fluttered shut. Her breathing stopped. The woman who had made an entire empire dance to her tunes had seemingly ended her own story.
The Twist: The Mask Falls
But then, the atmosphere in the room shifted instantly. As Victor looked at her limp body, his panic vanished. He didn't call for help; he didn't try to revive her. Instead, a mysterious, cold smirk crept across his face.
Victor leaned down until his lips were brushing against her ear. In a low, mocking whisper, he said:
"Alia... don't you think the drama is a bit much? Did you really think I didn't know that syringe contained nothing but a mild sedative and vitamins?"
Alia, who had been perfectly still, felt her eyelids twitch. Victor gripped her chin firmly and continued:
"I swapped that injection before you could even try to manipulate Mikhail. I knew you were planning to fake a suicide tonight to escape. But my darling, leaving my cage is not that easy."
Alia snapped her eyes open. The exhaustion was gone, replaced by raw, venomous hatred. With a sudden shove, Victor threw her back onto the bed and stood tall.
He turned toward the darkened corner of the room and raised his voice:
"Big brother, are you still standing behind that door enjoying the show? Alia thought she could pit us against each other and run away. She doesn't realize that even though we hate each other, your dragon and my gun always roar in sync when it comes to traitors."Seeing Victor's cunning move, Alia's patience finally snapped. She realized her suicide act had not only failed but that she was now completely trapped in Victor's web. Her enchanting facade transformed into raw fury in an instant.
Chapter: The Caged Tigress
Alia sprang up from the bed, her eyes blazing with fire. Looking at Victor, she gritted her teeth and screamed with pure hatred:
"Ahhhh... Suka!"
Using the Russian slur to vent her extreme rage, she began hurling insults and foul language at Victor's face. She called him a coward, a beast, and attacked him with every derogatory word she could find. Her voice no longer held that sweet melody; it was filled with pure venom.
She shoved Victor aside and retreated to the corner of the bed. She made it clear that while Victor might have captured her body, he had failed to conquer her spirit. She picked up the old book again and started reading, treating Victor as if he weren't a human being, but a mere piece of trash standing before her.
Victor didn't get angry at her insults; instead, he wore a triumphant smile. He knew that the louder Alia screamed, the more obvious her defeat became.Alia's sharp insult and utter defiance finally awakened the beast within Victor. The word "Suka" echoed through the room like a gunshot, shattering his calm facade. His icy blue eyes darkened with a predatory intent, and a muscle jumped in his jaw.
Victor moved with a terrifying slow-motion grace. Without saying a word, he lunged forward and snatched the book from Alia's hands, hurling it across the room where it hit the wall with a dull thud. He then turned back and bolted the heavy oak door, the click of the lock signaling that no one was getting in and she wasn't getting out.
He stepped back toward her, his fingers moving to the buckle of his leather belt. The metallic clink-clink of the belt being unlooped sounded like a death knell in the silent room.
"Suka? Yes... I'll show you exactly who the bitch is," Victor hissed, his voice vibrating with suppressed rage.
He grabbed her wrists with a strength that brooked no resistance. In one swift, fluid motion, he wound the heavy leather belt around her hands, binding them tightly together. He expected her to scream, to struggle, or to beg.
Instead, Alia leaned back against the headboard, her red silk nightie disheveled, and let out a soft, breathy laugh. She looked up at him through her eyelashes, her lips curling into a provocative, melting smile.
"This is exactly what I wanted, Viktor Alexeyevich... ( ꈍᴗꈍ)"
Victor froze. The use of his full, formal name the name his enemies called him before they died coming from her lips in such a seductive tone sent a jolt of electricity through him. He realized that by binding her, he hadn't just taken control; he had walked straight into her trap. She wasn't his prisoner; he was becoming a slave to her psychological games.Victor was pushed beyond the brink by Alia's chilling composure. He moved in even closer, his presence overwhelming, until every inch of his body was pressed against hers. The air in the room felt thick, heavy with the scent of leather, expensive scotch, and the floral notes of Alia's perfumeVictor buried his face in the crook of her neck, right where the skin was still tender from the "poisonous" needle. He didn't pull away; instead, he took a slow, deep, and jagged inhale, as if he were trying to draw her very soul into his lungs.
He let out a low, primal groan against her skin:
"Ahhhh... so this is how you play, isn't it?"
His voice was a dark vibration that traveled through her entire body. He tightened the grip on her bound wrists, pulling them slightly above her head against the headboard. His eyes were no longer those of a calculating Mafia boss; they were the eyes of a man drowning in an addiction.
He whispered hoarsely against her ear:
"You think you're the one in control because you 'wanted' this? You called me 'Viktor Alexeyevich' as if you own me. But tonight, Alia, there are no agents, no missions, and no brothers. There is only the hunter and the trophy. Tell me... as I feel your heart racing against mine... is this still part of your CIA training, or is your body finally telling the truth?"
Victor let his lips graze her collarbone, his teeth catching slightly on her skin a mark of ownership, a warning of the storm to come. Alia tilted her head back, a sharp intake of breath escaping her lips. She had lured the beast into her cage, but now she had to survive being locked inside with him..Victor became even more unhinged by Alia's touch. Even though her hands were bound by the belt, Alia pressed them against Victor's broad chest, feeling his heavy, erratic heartbeat through her fingertips.Victor's large hand slid down to Alia's waist, gripping her so tightly that she gasped. He pulled her flush against him, leaving no space between them. Looking into her defiant eyes, he reached down and unzipped his trousers the metallic sound of the zipper slicing through the silence like a blade.
He growled against her lips:
"You feel my chest, Alia? The fire burning here will turn you to ash tonight. I will give you something far more terrifying than what you asked for."
Alia leaned in, using her bound hands to tug at his shirt collar. She whispered with a dangerous sweetness:
"Viktor Alexeyevich... you are too late. Before unzipping that, you should have wondered are you taking control of my body, or am I taking control of your mind?"Alia's defiant gaze suddenly softened. A single tear welled up in the corner of her eye. She didn't make a sound, but that one tear drop ignited a strange madness inside Victor.
Victor saw the tear tracking down Alia's cheek. He paused for a second, but the predatory glint in his eyes didn't fade. He caught the drop with his fingertip and slowly tasted it. The saltiness seemed to fuel his inner demon even more.
He leaned entirely over her, his lips almost brushing against hers as he gave a silent command:
"Shhhhh..."
Placing a finger against her lips, he whispered:
"Why are you crying, Alia? This is exactly what you wanted. No words tonight. No CIA. No missions. Only this darkness and your silence. The quieter you are, the deeper I will get."
Alia couldn't wipe her own tears because her hands were bound tightly by Victor's belt. She could only take sharp, shallow breaths, her chest rising and falling against his. Victor's "shhh" was both a threat and a terrifying invitation into his obsession.