The high-voltage tension between Victor and Isrovon was interrupted by a soft but certain voice. The elder son, Isrovon, looked at his mother with his sharp, predatory eyes and spoke with a calm gravity.
Isrovon: "Mother, my elder sister wants to see you. She is waiting outside."
Alia paused, her expression shifting from the fierce Godmother to a tender mother. A soft glow of affection appeared in her eyes as she looked at Victor and smiled.
Alia: "My daughter, Zarin... Oh, I see. Bring her in."
Isrovon nodded and stepped out, returning a few moments later with Zarin. When she entered the room, Victor felt a fresh wave of surprise. If Isrovon was a reflection of Victor, then Zarin was the absolute, flawless mirror image of Alia. She moved with an innate elegance and a quiet authority that signaled she was the true Princess of this Mafia Empire.
Zarin walked into the room, her eyes first finding her mother and then settling on Victor. She didn't flinch at his towering presence or his bare chest; instead, her sharp gaze caught the fresh red scratches on Victor's back. She was her mother's daughter—highly intelligent, observant, and fearless.
Zarin: (In a voice as steady as steel) "Mother, the atmosphere of the mansion felt different today. The silence was broken by music and laughter that reached all the way to the library. I thought I should see for myself who managed to make our 'Godmother' laugh so freely."
Alia stepped forward and took Zarin's hand. Victor watched them, offering a respectful nod. He realized in that moment that this family wasn't just a criminal syndicate; it was an impregnable fortress. With a powerhouse like Isrovon as a successor and a sharp-witted strategist like Zarin, Alia's true strength was rooted in her children.
Victor smirked to himself. He hadn't just won over a Queen; he was becoming part of a formidable legacy.
Victor: "Zarin... bringing back your mother's smile wasn't an easy task. But it seems this palace was in desperate need of a new rhythm."
Zarin looked Victor in the eye and gave a small, cryptic smile. It was a smile that offered courtesy, but also a hidden warning. She was vetting him, just as her brother had.The vibrant energy of the music seemed to freeze in mid-air. The room, which only moments ago was filled with laughter and dancing, was now thick with a sudden, suffocating tension. Victor and Isrovon both stood still, their predatory instincts instantly sharpening.
Zarin took a step closer to her mother. Her voice was low, but it carried an unshakable resolve that echoed the iron will of the Godmother herself.
Zarin: "Mother, I have something to tell you. You might have already heard whispers from Isrovon... but I need to say it myself. I am in love with someone."
The porcelain cup in Alia's hand rattled slightly. Her eyebrows shot up, and her gaze turned into cold flint. For a woman who ruled an empire based on calculated moves and strategic alliances, the word "love" was often the most dangerous variable.
Alia: (In a sharp, disbelieving tone) "What? What did you just say?"
Alia's eyes darted toward Isrovon. The 6.5-foot giant lowered his head slightly, his silence confirming that he had known the secret but hadn't found the words—or the courage—to break it to his mother until now.
Victor leaned against the bedpost, crossing his arms over his bare, scratched chest. He watched Zarin with a newfound respect. To look a Mafia Queen in the eye and confess a forbidden romance required a special kind of madness—the kind of madness he recognized in himself.
Zarin: "Yes, Mother. I know that in our world, love is a luxury we aren't supposed to afford. But I have given him my word. His name is—"
Alia held up a sharp hand, cutting her daughter off before the name could leave her lips. Her eyes were burning with a mix of maternal protection and "Godmother" fury. In her world, a daughter's heart was a political asset, and a loose thread could unravel an entire kingdom.
Victor stepped forward, placing a steadying hand on Alia's shoulder. His touch was grounding, but his eyes remained fixed on Zarin.
Victor: "Easy, Alia. Courage is in her blood; you can't blame her for that. But let's see... who is this man that has captured a Princess's heart? Is he a king worthy of this empire, or is he merely a death sentence in disguise?"
A pin-drop silence followed. Zarin didn't flinch. She stood tall, her chin tilted upward, ready to face the storm she had just unleashed.Zarin's silence made the air in the room feel heavy and leaden. She knew that uttering this name was equivalent to sounding the drums of war. But she was Alia's blood, and retreat was not an option she had ever been taught.
She took a deep breath and looked directly into the eyes of both her mother and Victor. Her voice did not waver.
Zarin: "His name is—Aryan Romanov."
The moment the name left her lips, it felt as if the floor had vanished beneath Alia's feet. Victor's eyes narrowed into slits, his jaw tightening into a hard line of granite. Aryan Romanov was no ordinary boy; he was the youngest son of the Romanov Crime Family—their fiercest rivals and the greatest threat to their alliance.
Alia: (Her voice rising in a mix of fury and shock) "Zarin! Have you lost your mind? For three decades, we have shared nothing with the Romanovs but blood—and that blood was spilled in hatred! They want to dismantle everything we've built, and you want to hand them your heart?"
Isrovon, who had been silent until now, stepped forward and stood beside his sister. He knew the depth of this danger better than anyone, yet his protective stance suggested he wouldn't let their mother strike her down.
Zarin: "Mother, he is not like his father or his brothers. He wants out of this dark world just as much as we want peace. This could be the end of the bloodshed."
Victor let out a cold, sharp laugh that echoed through the Lord's Room. He walked toward Zarin, his massive 6.5-foot frame casting a long, intimidating shadow over her.
Victor: "Peace? Zarin, in the mafia, 'peace' is just the time spent reloading for the next war. If the Romanovs find out their son is in love with a girl from this house, they won't see it as a bridge of love. They will see it as a tunnel—a way to slide a knife into our backs from the inside."
Alia, trembling with rage, reached for the bell to summon her guards to lock Zarin away, but Victor's hand shot out, gently but firmly catching her wrist.
Victor: (Looking deeply into Alia's eyes) "Wait, Alia. Decisions made in rage are just gifts to our enemies. Since Zarin has had the courage to speak, let us see if this Aryan has the spine to match. I want him brought here. I want to see the boy who thinks he's brave enough to touch the daughter of the Godmother."
The "Godmother" within Alia finally erupted. Hearing the name of a Romanov from her daughter's lips caused her to lose all restraint. The room went deathly silent as Alia's hand swung through the air, landing a resounding slap across Zarin's face.
"SLAP!"—The sound echoed like a gunshot against the walls of the Lord's Room.
Alia, trembling with uncontrollable fury, screamed, "Enough, Zarin! Shut your mouth! I am appalled by your audacity. Are you so blinded by this pathetic infatuation at such a young age? Have you forgotten whose blood flows through your veins? The Romanovs are not friends; they are hyenas! And you, like a foolish child, have walked straight into their trap. At your age, you should be learning to command an empire, yet you are busy learning the language of betrayal!"
Zarin's head snapped to the side, the crimson imprint of Alia's fingers blooming on her fair cheek. But to everyone's surprise, she didn't shed a single tear. She slowly turned her head back, meeting her mother's blazing eyes with defiant silence.
Isrovon instinctively took a step toward his sister, but a single, sharp glance from Victor pinned him to the spot. Victor remained a silent observer, watching how a Mafia Queen disciplined her heir.
Alia barked again, "This 'childish mistake' of yours could put a target on all our backs. From this second, you are a prisoner in this mansion. As for Aryan Romanov... his fate is now in my hands, and I promise you, I will be merciless."After the slap, Alia's hand was still trembling. She turned away from Zarin and looked at Victor, her eyes a turbulent mix of unshed tears and burning rage.
Alia: (Screaming at Victor) "Victor! Do you even realize the gravity of this? I'm not even thirty yet—I'm still in my twenties! You are practically the same age as me. We haven't even seen the full spectrum of life ourselves, and yet here we are, carrying the weight of this massive empire on our shoulders. How am I supposed to manage five children on top of all this? One is falling in love with the enemy, and the others are already dreaming of becoming like you. Should I be the Godmother of this city or just a mother trying to save her kids?"
The raw vulnerability in her voice made the air feel thick. She realized that as her children grew older, the dangers were multiplying, and her own young age was making the burden of leadership feel almost unbearable.