Alia's heart hammered against her chest; she was certain it was Victor. But as the blinding glare of the headlights dimmed, the man who stepped out of the SUV stole the very breath from her lungs.
Reunion: A Hidden Truth in the Snow
It was Marcos Valentino. His silver-streaked hair looked even more ethereal against the falling snow, and his grey, cat-like eyes were filled with an uncharacteristic tenderness. He walked toward Alia with slow, deliberate steps.
The small child in Alia's arms, who had been quiet until now, immediately reached out his tiny hands the moment he saw Marcos. The boy's features, the way he looked he was the perfect reflection of Lord Marcos. In his broken, innocent voice, the child cried out:
Child: "Paaaaa..."
Marcos froze. Even for a ruthless Mafia Lord like him, tears shimmered in his eyes. He stood before Alia and his son, overcome with emotion.
Marcos: (In a low whisper) "He recognized me, Alia. My own blood has recognized me."
Marcos reached out and took the child into his arms with supreme gentleness. The boy gripped his father's shirt collar tightly. Alia stood beside them, trembling not from the freezing cold, but from the paralyzing fear of what would happen if anyone saw this.Alia's eyes filled with tears as she faced the hardest decision of her life. Her voice trembled with the weight of her secret.
"Marcos, I can't keep this baby anymore," she sobbed. "I have five other children in Victor's house. They are his blood, but this child is yours. Living every day with Victor while hiding your son is a living hell. He is becoming suspicious."
She gripped Marcos's arm, her tears falling onto the cold snow. "If Victor sees even a glimpse of your cat-like eyes in this child, he will kill not only him but my other five children as well. I cannot let that happen as a mother. Take him, Marcos... take him to Italy, make him a King, but keep him far away from Victor's shadow."As Marcos tried to protest, Alia silenced him instantly. She leaned in and pressed her lips against his in a deep, lingering kiss. It was a kiss filled with years of hidden passion, agony, and the weight of a final goodbye.
Pulling away just inches from his face, she whispered, "Shh... not another word. Love you, Marcos. Our love might be the world's greatest crime, but it's the only truth of my life. Now go. You have to live for our son."
Marcos stood frozen. The touch of her lips and those three words shattered the armor of the ruthless Mafia Lord. He realized that Alia was sacrificing her freedom, choosing to stay in Victor's cage just to keep him and their child safe.The scene took a deeply emotional and painful turn. Just as Alia was about to leave, the infant began crying loudly, hungry for breast milk. His small hands clutched at Alia's coat, and his cries echoed through the frozen, desolate plains.
Alia couldn't stop herself. Her maternal instinct overpowered her fear. She pulled the baby back from Marcos's arms. "Wait, Marcos! He's hungry. He knows his mother is leaving him. I can't let him go while he's crying like this."
She scrambled into the backseat of the SUV, shielding the child from the biting cold. As the baby began to nurse, he finally grew quiet, comforted by her warmth. Alia's tears fell silently onto the infant's forehead. Marcos stood outside, guarding them, but his heart was heavy. He knew they were running out of time. "Alia, we have to move. Victor's men are scanning GPS signals. We must part ways now."Alia handed the satisfied baby back to Marcos, her entire body trembling. She stepped out of the car and stood alone on the frozen ground.
Alia: "Go, Marcos! Don't look back. Give him a little extra love for me."
Marcos started the engine. Alia stood frozen, watching her heart and the man she loved disappear into the depths of the darkness. At that exact moment, her phone rang again—it was Victor. This time, his voice came through like a terrifying roar.
Victor: (Over the phone) "Alia! I am standing right in front of your room door. If you don't open it by the time I count to three, I'm breaking it down!"
The Race Against Time
Alia didn't waste a second. She turned and sprinted toward the hidden entrance of the stone-walled tunnel, her lungs burning from the icy air. Her heart was pounding so loud she could barely hear her own footsteps.
Victor's voice echoed through the phone: "One..."
She slid into the narrow, dark passage, her coat scraping against the rough stones.
Victor: "Two..."
She reached the trapdoor under her rug, threw off her snow-covered coat, and scrambled onto her bed, pulling the duvet over her as if she had been sleeping all along.
Victor: "Three!"
CRASH! The heavy oak door flew off its hinges as Victor stormed into the room. He stood there, his chest heaving with rage, his eyes scanning every corner of the dimly lit suite. He walked slowly toward the bed where Alia lay, pretending to wake up from a deep sleep.
The Deadly Suspicion
Victor leaned over her, his shadow towering and ominous. He didn't speak. Instead, he leaned in close, his nose near her neck. He paused, his expression turning into a mask of lethal confusion.
Victor: (Deep, growling voice) "Why does my Queen smell like fresh milk and the frozen winds of the Alps at 2 AM?" Faced with Victor's lethal suspicion, Alia's heart nearly stopped. She knew that any sign of weakness would mean the end for her and her children. She sat up, masking her terror with a look of feigned hurt and irritation.
Alia: "You've changed ever since you arrived in Italy, Victor. Do you think I'm blind? You're so obsessed with your deals with those international Lords, while I'm left here alone. Why did you bring me here from the Pentagon? Just to keep me a prisoner?"
She grabbed the collar of his coat, acting exhausted. "You smell milk? Our youngest son was crying; I just finished nursing him to sleep. And the smell of snow? The window was cracked open because I felt like I was suffocating in this room. You're out there celebrating power and wine with your Lords, and you come in here to play detective with me? Shame on you, Victor!"Victor remained motionless, staring deep into Alia's eyes. A fierce battle between suspicion and cold fury played out in his gaze. Alia knew how cunning he was. Would he believe her tears and her feigned indignation? Or would he step toward the window to check for melting snow and frozen footprints?
Victor slowly gripped her chin, pulling her face inches from his own, his breath cold and threatening.
Victor: "If I ever find out that you stepped even a single foot out of this room in my absence... remember this, Alia: I will turn the snow of Italy crimson with your blood."
The Psychological War
Alia didn't flinch. She maintained her gaze, though her heart was screaming. She knew that behind her, hidden just beneath the edge of the bed, her boots were still dripping with slush.
Victor: (Lowering his voice to a lethal whisper) "You are my Queen, Alia. But never forget—a Queen only keeps her crown as long as she keeps her loyalty. The Lords outside are talking about a mole. If that mole is inside my own bedroom, I won't just kill you. I will make you watch as I erase everything you've ever loved."
He let go of her chin abruptly and turned toward the window. Alia held her breath. If he looked down at the floorboards now, he would see the trail of moisture she had left behind in her frantic rush.It is 2 AM. In a lavish mansion, Alia is lying on Victor's chest. Victor has one arm wrapped around her while the other holds his phone. The lethal tension from earlier has been replaced by a triumphant, sinister laughter.
Victor is in a group chat with the other 4 Lords, laughing as he sends messages and pictures. He mocks them, telling Alia how these "butchers" think they are clever, but he is always ten steps ahead. He even snaps a blurry picture of Alia's disheveled hair and sends it to the group a clear taunt to the other Lords, especially Marcos, to show that Alia is under his absolute possession.
Alia lies there silently, but her mind is in turmoil. She knows Marcos is in that group. Seeing her on Victor's chest will drive him mad. She fears that if Marcos loses his cool and says the wrong thing in the chat, Victor will realize the truth instantly.The tension reached a breaking point. Just as Victor was gloating, Marcos made a move that threatened to shatter Victor's composure. On the group chat, Marcos posted a picture.
It showed Marcos with his wife, holding the infant in his arms. He skillfully obscured the baby's face just enough so Victor wouldn't recognize him, but Alia knew instantly it was their son.
Marcos captioned the photo: "Family is the true power, Victor. Glad to see your Queen, but look at my heir he will one day claim this entire empire."
Victor zoomed in on the photo, his brow furrowed in suspicion. "Why is this Italian fox showing off his brat at 2 AM? Alia, look—does the child resemble Marcos? Is he trying to say his bloodline is stronger than mine?"
Alia felt like she was suffocating. She realized Marcos was issuing a silent challenge, letting her know the baby was safe while taunting Victor right under his nose. She managed to whisper, "He's mad, Victor. He's just using his child to intimidate you. Don't give him the satisfaction of your attention."