The girls held their breath.
"The door is not to be locked," Alexander said, looking deeply at Ayla. "Ivan and I will be in the adjacent office all night. The guards will be in the hallway. Any foolish attempt to leave, and this agreement ends forever."
Sofia broke into a wide smile that lit up Ivan's face, and Ayla looked at Alexander with genuine gratitude, making the "Czar's" heart beat with unusual force.
"Thank you," Ayla whispered.
Alexander raised her hand and kissed the palm with a long, deep, and sacred kiss. "Do anything to be happy, Ayla... because your happiness is the fuel that keeps me sane."
The Soul's Embrace in the Velvet Room
An hour later, the "Beasts" withdrew with heavy hearts. The sight of Ivan saying goodbye to Sofia at the bedroom door was worth immortalizing; he kissed her forehead three times, adjusted her shawl around her shoulders, and told her to drink water and call him via the internal phone if she needed anything—even just to adjust her pillow. As for Alexander, he settled for a long look at Ayla—a look loaded with promises of love and waiting—before slowly closing the door behind him, leaving them alone for the first time since this madness began.
As soon as the door closed, the two girls jumped onto the vast, plush bed. There was no screaming or hysterical crying; instead, there was laughter... soft, relieved laughter, mixed with tears of release.
They changed their luxurious clothes for comfortable cotton pajamas provided by Alexander (who had certainly chosen them carefully to be both comfortable and beautiful). They sat facing each other on the bed, an atmosphere of the old intimacy they were raised with in the orphanage prevailing.
"Do you believe what is happening to us?" Sofia asked, brushing Ayla's long hair with her fingers, as she used to do in childhood.
Ayla sighed and rested her head on her friend's knee. "It's madness, Sofia. I... I don't know how to feel. I'm supposed to hate him. He bought me, Sofia! He paid money and possessed me... but he..." She paused for a moment, trying to find the right words. "But he doesn't treat me like a commodity. He looks at me as if I'm... a miracle."
Sofia smiled with a bittersweet expression. "I know exactly what you mean. Ivan... I was scared to death of him. Those cold blue eyes... I thought he would kill me in that alley. But since he took me to my apartment, he has done nothing but pamper me. He cooks for me, Ayla! Can you imagine? Ivan, the cold-blooded killer, wearing an apron and making me soup because I sneezed once!"
Ayla laughed out loud, a sound the palace walls had never heard before. "Alexander... he put a tattoo over my heart. I thought it was an insult, but he kisses it every night with reverence as if he's praying. He tells me I am the lung he breathes with. The problem, Sofia... is that I've started to get used to it. I've started to feel safer with him than I have felt my whole life on the streets."
"Is that wrong?" Sofia asked in a low voice, her eyes tracing the ornate ceiling. "Are we traitors because we don't hate our captors?"
Ayla raised her head and looked into her friend's eyes seriously. "Maybe we aren't traitors... maybe we are just lonely, and we found someone to fill this void in an extreme way. They aren't normal men, Sofia. Their love isn't normal... it's a flood that drowns everything. And the question is... do we want to survive the drowning?"
Sofia was silent for a moment, then slowly shook her head. "Honestly? I don't think I can live without him now. The way he looks at me makes me feel like the most important woman in history. The outside is so cold, Ayla... and here, despite the restrictions, it's warm... so very warm."
They lay down beside each other, holding hands, just as they used to do on cold orphanage nights. But this time, the cold wasn't gnawing at their bones, and hunger wasn't pinching their stomachs. They were surrounded by silk and feathers, under the protection of two men ready to burn the world to ensure this peace continued.
"Goodnight, my sister," Ayla whispered, closing her eyes. For the first time in weeks, she slept without the help of medication, sleeping with a heart reassured by the presence of her other half.
In the Adjacent Office: The Truce of Beasts
On the other side of the wall, the atmosphere was different. Alexander and Ivan sat in the dark office, lit only by the glow of the surveillance screen showing the two girls sleeping peacefully (without sound, out of respect for their privacy, but the image was enough to calm their spirits).
A bottle of premium whiskey stood between them, and both had taken a fair share.
Alexander, who had removed his suit jacket and unbuttoned his shirt, stared at the screen with a look of tenderness and pain. "Look at them, Ivan. They look like angels escaped from heaven. How can beings of such delicacy endure beasts like us?"
Ivan took a large sip from his glass, his eyes fixed on the image of Sofia sleeping. "We don't deserve them, Alexander. That's for sure. But we will never leave them. That is even more certain."
"I feel jealous," Alexander admitted suddenly, his voice coming out heavy. "I'm jealous of Sofia because she's sleeping next to Ayla, and I'm here. I want to be in her place. I want to be her pillow and her blanket."
Ivan gave a rare, cynical but understanding smile. "And I'm jealous of Ayla because she has Sofia's smile tonight. But look on the bright side, my friend... they are happy. And their happiness means they won't try to escape. This gives us a chance... a chance to prove to them that this cage isn't a prison, but the only fortress worthy of them."
Alexander turned his chair to face the large window overlooking the sleeping city. "She has changed me, Ivan. I no longer care about deals or revenge or even destroying the Fulton family. All I think about is how to make her smile for me in the morning. Is this the weakness our father warned us about?"
"No," Ivan replied firmly, pouring another glass. "This isn't weakness. Weakness is letting them go. Strength is keeping them, protecting them, and making them adore their chains just as we adore our slavery to them. We aren't the jailers here, Alexander... look at yourself, look at me... we are the true prisoners."
The two men fell silent, surrendering to the inescapable truth. That night, in the Volkov palace, the scales had tipped. There was no victim and executioner; there were four lost souls who had found sanctuary in one another. The girls found safety in the obsession, and the men found life in surrendering to their feelings.
Hours passed, and with the dawn, Alexander and Ivan slipped quietly into the room. They didn't wake the girls.
Ivan covered Sofia well and kissed a strand of her hair scattered on the pillow, whispering a silent promise to protect her forever.
Alexander approached Ayla, knelt by the bed, and placed his hand over the tattoo with extreme gentleness, feeling the beat of her heart, which was now pulsing in peace.
"Sleep, my soul," Alexander whispered in the stillness of dawn. "Take all the time you need with your friend... but tomorrow... tomorrow you will return to my arms, and I will not allow you to leave again, even if the world stops turning."
The two men withdrew to sit in the leather chairs in the corner of the room, refusing to leave, refusing to sleep, sufficing themselves with watching their "treasures" breathe in peace—loyal guardians in the dark temple of love, waiting for the butterflies to open their eyes and light up their dark world once again.