Viktor seemed determined to keep every pulse of Alia's body under his control. As soon as Alia tried to pull away to create some distance, Viktor swiftly gripped her waist even tighter. He didn't give her a chance to move an inch, pinning her even more firmly against his chest.
Viktor's eyes blazed with a primal stubbornness, and he growled in a low voice in English, "Where do you think you're going, Alia? I haven't finished with you yet. In this room, you don't move until I say so."
Looking into his eyes, Alia challenged him in Bengali, "You can hold me back, Viktor, but can you hold back my willpower? You want to bind me in the cage of your body, but is my mind under your control?"
For a moment, Viktor twisted the strands of Alia's hair around his fist and whispered into her ear, "I don't need to see if your mind is under my control or not. As long as you are in my bed, your body and your every breath will follow my command."
Far from letting her go, Viktor gripped the bed grill even harder, as if he wanted to exert his absolute power over her existence. The room became suffocated with the heat of their bodies and the sound of their breathing.Viktor's entire energy seemed to have vanished in this moment. His long, heavy breaths were breaking the silence of the room. He loosened his grip on Alia, though the imprints of his fingers were still visible on her waist. He was panting heavily, his broad chest rising and falling, a remnant of his previous wild fury.
Alia looked at him, somewhat surprised; she had never seen such a devastated Viktor before. Panting, Viktor leaned back against the bed, his eyes slightly clouded. He murmured in a low voice, "Oh my... are you going to be the end of me, Alia?" Alia pulled the bedsheet up to cover herself, a crooked, mocking smile appearing on her lips as she watched Viktor's extreme vulnerability and heavy breathing. Looking at him, she said in a cold voice, "Oh my? So much for your mafia world's dominance! The man who was saying just a few minutes ago that he sets the rules for everything has now lost control over his own body?"
She moved a bit further away and added in a mocking tone, looking into Viktor's eyes, "Viktor, there is a world of difference between showing off arrogance and maintaining it. Today, you haven't just been defeated by me; you've been caught by your own self."
Alia's sarcasm worked like salt on Viktor's wounded ego. Closing his eyes and taking deep breaths, Viktor just whispered, "You can say whatever you want, Alia. But I chose even this defeat on my own terms."Alia stood up from the bed. There was a certain composed dominance in her movement that changed the room in an instant. She picked up Viktor's lighter and cigarette pack from the table. As she placed a cigarette between her lips, the flame of the lighter flickered in the dim light of Viktor's room.
Taking a long drag, she blew the smoke gently toward Viktor's face. Her lips trembled with a sarcastic smile. Looking at Viktor while exhaling the smoke, she said, "You know, Viktor, for someone who thinks he is so strong, you looked quite weak for a moment. Isn't this smoke just the remnants of your arrogance?"
Viktor was still half-lying on the bed, panting. He stared at Alia with an intensity that held more fascination than anger. The flame burning at the tip of Alia's fingers seemed to signal the next phase of their game.Viktor let out a sinister and heavy laugh while still half-reclined on the bed. He gestured with his finger toward the cigarette burning in Alia's hand. His eyes were still tired, but a deep, dark intoxication was evident in his gaze.
In a low and raspy voice, he said, "You are testing my arrogance with smoke, Alia? Fine... but don't take the taste of this fire alone. Pass it to me."
Alia froze for a moment, looking at Viktor. Then, she slowly moved toward him. Keeping her eyes locked on his, she held the cigarette to his lips. Viktor took it slowly, exhaled a cloud of smoke through his lips, and cast a cold glance at her. He whispered, "As long as we are in this game, remember the rule the fire might be in your hand, but I am the one who will decide who gets burned by it." Alia quickly picked up the glass of water from the table and held it to Viktor's lips. Viktor was still panting, his body drenched in sweat. After drinking the water, he seemed to recover slightly. Then, Viktor set the glass aside and pulled Alia into his arms, holding her tightly against his chest.
Viktor buried his face in the crook of Alia's neck and took a deep breath, pressing a soft, deep kiss against her throat. His voice had become heavy with fatigue. He whispered, "I feel so sleepy now, Alia."
Alia remained still in Viktor's embrace. In a hazy, soft voice, Viktor murmured, "Good night."
The lights in the room dimmed, and the darkness of the Moscow night enveloped them. Viktor's heartbeat began to slow down and calm, merging with the rhythm of Alia's body. The next morning, the light filtering through the curtains woke Alia. Viktor was already showered and dressed. He wore an expensive black suit that sat perfectly on his muscular frame. His hair was damp and combed, with no trace of the previous night's intoxication in his eyes, replaced instead by a professional coldness.
Alia sat up in bed, looking at him in surprise. His sudden busyness caught her off guard. In a hesitant voice, she asked, "Where are you going, dressed so early, Viktor?"
Viktor, while adjusting his tie in the mirror, replied in a cold tone, "There is no need for you to know everything, Alia. I have a lot of work today. I will be late, so spend the day as you please."
His words carried a clear sense of distance, signaling that, according to the rules of the mafia world, business took precedence over personal relationships. Alia remained silent; Viktor's mystery once again left her standing before a new, familiar uncertainty.Alia tried to say something, but stopped. The words on the tip of her tongue seemed frozen by the coldness of Viktor's personality. Viktor walked toward her slowly. Standing before her, he gently took her hands, then leaned down and pressed a long, quiet kiss to her forehead. That touch held no warmth, but rather a kind of instruction—where asking questions was forbidden.
After the kiss, he stood straight and adjusted the expensive watch on his wrist, the rhythmic ticking of which only made the silence of the room feel heavier. Viktor walked out of the room without once looking back. As the sound of his shoes faded in the corridor, Alia sat on the bed, the sensation of his kiss on her forehead still sparking a mysterious feeling in her mind.Viktor had reached the door to leave, but suddenly, as if struck by a thought, he stopped. Without saying a word, he turned back with lightning speed. Before Alia could even realize what was happening, Viktor gently gathered her hair in his fist and pulled her face toward his.
Without any warning, he pressed a deep and intense kiss to Alia's lips. This kiss held the same sense of ownership from the previous night, yet this time it was mixed with a strange, new emotion. Alia was stunned by this sudden change in Viktor; the cool, metallic touch of his expensive watch pressed against her skin.
After the kiss, Viktor pulled back slightly and stared intensely into Alia's eyes. A flicker of irrepressible fire burned in his gaze. Without a word, he let her go and walked out of the room with rapid strides, never looking back. The scent he left behind and the lingering sensation of that kiss only heightened the pounding of Alia's heart in the heavy silence of the room. Alia let out a soft laugh before the lingering effect of Viktor's strange behavior could even fade. Looking toward the direction he had left, she muttered to herself, "Are you crazy!" The echo of her laughter still hung in the air, but it vanished in an instant under the impact of a sharp, intense sound from below.
The roar of Viktor's car engine drifted in from outside the window, sounding like a massive, ferocious beast, shattering the morning silence. The intensity of the sound was so great that the windowpanes trembled slightly. Viktor drove the car out of the driveway at an incredibly high speed; the friction of the tires against the road and the sheer power of the engine echoed in Alia's ears for a long time. The glimpse of Viktor's reckless speed on the streets of Moscow was clearly audible through that roaring engine. As Alia stood by the window, still feeling the lingering impact of the sound of Viktor's car, there was a soft knock at the door. A maid entered, keeping her head bowed. Looking toward Alia, she called out in a timid voice, "Ma'am?"
For a moment, Alia detached herself from the departure of Viktor and the intensity of those emotions. Her gaze regained its cold, aristocratic composure. She turned to the maid and commanded in a slow but firm voice, "Fix all the rooms."
The maid's movements seemed to hasten in sync with Alia's mood. Alia stood still in the middle of the room, and after ordering the cleanup of the environment that bore witness to last night's game, she once again sank into her own thoughts.