It's 1:00 AM. While the city sleeps, the "THE PENTAGON LORDS" WhatsApp group is ablaze with a different kind of fire. The tension from earlier has shifted into a dark, twisted celebration of power and lust. The five Lords, having retreated to their private chambers, are now sharing proof of their "victories" over their wives and mistresses.
The chat is a mess of sweat, arrogance, and cold laughter.
[WhatsApp Group: THE PENTAGON LORDS ]
Time: 01:15 AM
Lord Marcos: (Uploads a photo: His bare chest is glistening with sweat, muscles strained, with the silhouette of a woman visible in the background.)
"The sting of that slap is gone. I made sure to burn off that anger tonight. It's been a long, productive night! "
Lord Dragunov: (Uploads a photo: Lounging on silk sheets, visible bite marks on his shoulder, a smirk on his face.)
"You're just getting started, Marcos. I've lost count of how many times she begged for mercy. The night is young."
Lord Lucian: (Uploads a blurry, dark photo: Only his tattooed arm is visible against tangled black sheets.)
"Shut up, both of you. I just caught my breath. She's out cold. "
Lord Nikolai: (Uploads a photo: Holding a glass of vintage scotch, completely shirtless, looking dangerously relaxed.)
"Where is our King? Is Victor still mourning his runaway Queen, or did he find someone else to vent his rage on?"
Lord Victor: (The group goes silent as Victor finally posts. The photo is high-contrast black and white: His silver hair is messy, falling over his eyes, and the dragon tattoo on his neck looks like it's breathing in the shadows.)
"Don't worry about me, Nikolai. Alia is mine, no matter where she hides. This sweat, this exhaustion... it's just the warm-up before the war. Laugh now, but tomorrow morning, the real game begins."
While the five Lords are busy bragging about their dominance in the bedroom, Alia is standing on a high balcony miles away. Beside her, the Shadow Guardians check their watches.
One of the guards hands her a tablet. It shows a live feed of Marcos's shipyard. Alia taps the screen once.
"Let them have their fun," Alia whispers, her eyes cold as diamonds. "The higher they fly tonight, the harder they will crash when they see the smoke at dawn."The atmosphere in the group chat shifts from arrogant bragging to a moment of shocking revelation. Here is how the conversation plays out at 1:30 AM:
[WhatsApp Group: THE PENTAGON LORDS ]
Lord Marcos: (Replying to Victor's photo) "Wait a minute... Victor, don't lie to us! Who is that lying next to you? That silhouette... it looks familiar."
Lord Victor: (Sends a smirk emoji
followed by a photo)
"Caught me, didn't you? Fine. I'll admit it. Alia tried to play hard to get, but she couldn't stay away from her King. I had to exert quite a bit of force to bring her back to her senses. Look at me I'm completely drenched in sweat. It was... intense."
Lord Dragunov: "Wait, you caught her already? The Shadows let you take her?!"
Lord Victor: (Sends a final close-up photo)
In the photo, Alia is seen with her eyes closed in a deep, heavy sleep. One of her arms is wrapped tightly around Victor's neck, her face buried against his chest as if she had no energy left to fight.
Lord Victor: "She's exhausted. She fought like a tigress, but now she's sleeping like a baby in my arms. The 'God-Mother' is back where she belongs under me."
The Hidden Reality
While the other Lords are laughing and congratulating Victor, the camera zooms out from Victor's bed.The atmosphere was thick with dark charisma and the smell of expensive cologne as the PENTAGON LORDS connected on a group video call at 1:45 AM. The screen was split into five frames, each revealing the decadent lives of the world's most dangerous men.
The 1:45 AM Video Call
Lord Marcos: (Rubbing his jaw, looking frustrated) "I'm telling you, Victor, I can still feel the heat on my face! That girl didn't just slap me; she hit me with the force of a demon. My jaw is still aching!"
In the background of Marcos's frame, his wife let out a soft, playful "Ahhh..." trying to get his attention or perhaps teasing him about his bruised ego.
Lord Marcos: (Turning his head sharply, snapping at her) "Shut up! Can't you see I'm talking to my brothers? Get out of here!"
Lord Dragunov: (Bursting into a dark laugh from his silk-covered bed) "Hahaha! Maybe your wife thinks the slap improved your look, Marcos! But seriously, Victor you claim you've tamed the 'God-Mother' already? Show us the prize."
Lord Victor: (Smirking, he slowly tilts his phone camera toward the pillows. His chest is bare, glistening with sweat.)
"Keep your voices down. I had to use quite a bit of force to bring this tigress to heel. She fought until she couldn't move anymore."
The camera reveals Alia. She is curled into Victor's side, her face buried against his warm, sweaty skin. Her arm is wrapped tightly around his waist, appearing to be in a state of total, exhausted surrender.
Lord Victor: "See? At the end of the day, she's right where she belongs in my bed, under my command. The storm is over."
Lord Nikolai: "You're lucky, Victor. But that slap she gave Marcos started a fire in the streets. Don't be too surprised if that fire reaches your doorstep by morning."
Lord Lucian: (Watching the screen with cold, calculating eyes) "I don't know, Victor. She looks too peaceful. Like the calm before a tsunami. Be careful she doesn't slit your throat while you're dreaming of your victory."
The Secret Beneath the Sheets
Victor ended the call with a victorious grin and tossed his phone aside. He pulled Alia closer, feeling her soft breath against his skin, and finally let his eyes close, drifting into a heavy sleep.
But the moment Victor's breathing turned rhythmic and deep, Alia's eyes snapped open.
She wasn't sleeping. She had heard every word of their mocking conversation. Her grip on his waist wasn't out of love she was feeling for the holster he usually wore.
She looked at the ceiling, her eyes cold and murderous. Marcos would be the first to fall.When Alia opened her eyes, the room was bathed in a dim, moonlight glow. The sharp obsidian dagger was still hidden beneath the silk sheets, cold against her palm. Her plan was simple: strike Victor while he was vulnerable and escape to the Shadow Guardians waiting in the darkness.
But as she looked at Victor, she saw something she didn't expect. In his sleep, the terrifying Mafia King looked... human. His grip on her didn't feel like a cage anymore; it felt like a plea.
A Moment of Weakness: As she moved to grab the blade, Victor tightened his hold instinctively, whispering her name in a broken, tired voice.
The Softening: Alia's hand began to tremble. Memories of their past—before the blood and the power—flashed through her mind. She realized that despite the pain, she couldn't bring herself to hurt him.
The Surrender: The "God-Mother" persona crumbled. She let the dagger slip from her fingers, hearing it thud softly on the thick carpet. She didn't flee; instead, she let out a long breath and buried her face back into his chest.
Victor, sensing her closeness even in his sleep, kissed the top of her head and pulled her closer. Alia stopped fighting. She wrapped her arm around him, and for the first time in years, she fell into a deep, peaceful sleep.
The Calm Before the Storm
While the couple slept in each other's arms, the other four Lords were still awake, waiting for a signal that never came.
Marcos was confused why the "Queen" hadn't made a move yet.
The Shadow Guardians stood outside in the rain, confused why their leader was silent.
They didn't know that for one night, the war had stopped because a heart had turned soft.The conversation on the video call shifted from the battlefield of the streets to the "battlefield" of their homes. Each Lord, feeling the heat of the night, began to talk about their own wives, revealing the dark and complicated dynamics of their marriages.
The 2:00 AM Confessions: The Lords' Wives
Lord Marcos: (Lighting a cigarette, looking annoyed) "You guys think Alia is a handful? My wife is a walking nightmare! All she cares about is diamonds, shopping, and credit cards. If I don't give her what she wants, she makes my life hell. Tonight, I had to be 'extra firm' just to get some peace."
Lord Dragunov: (With a mysterious, dark smirk) "At least yours is predictable, Marcos. My wife... she's as beautiful as a rose but twice as thorny. Sometimes I wonder if she wants my heart or my throne. Keeping her satisfied is like taming a wild predator every single night."
Lord Nikolai: "You guys complain too much. My wife prefers the shadows. She barely speaks, but her eyes follow every move I make. She doesn't care about my power; she's obsessed with my secrets. Even tonight, I felt her watching me, calculating."
Lord Lucian: (Short and cold as always) "In my house, there is only silence. She knows better than to make a sound when I'm around. She stayed exactly where I told her to tonight. Submission is her only option."
Lord Victor: (Gently stroking Alia's hair while she remains "asleep" in his arms) "I hear all of you—your complaints, your pride. But Alia... she's different. She has a fire that your wives lack. She can slap a Lord, she can command the Shadows, and she can make even me feel weak. You see her sleeping here, but I know she has the power to burn down this entire empire. And that... that is why I'll never let her go."
The Hidden Rebellion
As the Lords laughed and bragged, they didn't realize that their wives were more than just trophies. Behind the scenes, these women were the silent pillars of their empires.
While Alia lay there, her mind was racing. She realized she wasn't the only woman trapped in this golden cage. A new thought formed in her head: What if the wives of the Pentagon Lords united? If the five most powerful women in the underworld joined forces, the Lords wouldn't stand a chance.